There was very little privacy for those that dared choose this line of work. After all, the Post War Management Bureau never left room for chance. There were agreements of complete and unquestioned disclosure about those who wanted to join and since most didn't have anything to lose when they joined up, they agreed. However, what they never considered was the consequence of leaving. He had heard stories of those fed up with all the secrecy and lack of privacy threatening to go to the International Police or even the heads of State. And they always ended up gone. No trace. No trail. Nothing.
Bruce couldn't help but frown as to how efficiently the Executors Committee kept its employees in line and kept the organization's existence secret. Machiavelli would have been proud.
Typing in a few more keys on his keyboard, he was ready to move to another program when he paused, still as a statue. There were footsteps outside his office walking casually near. It was probably either one of his co-workers or one of the management. He quickly deleted all the keys he'd been typing up to then and returned to the present job at hand. The footsteps continued past his door and down the hall.
He would have openly sighed, but there were more important things to take care of.
With a flurry to keystrokes, he then activated a program he had been provided with by his 'previous employer'. With a push of the 'enter' key, the 'Opacus' program was initiated and all intrusion by electronic means would see him continue doing his work. Now, he had to work fast, since it worked as though it were a wind-up toy. The program would eventually fade back into dormancy, returning their surveillance of him in the open.
Thankfully, his resume had long since been lost and with no records to show where he come from, all the extensive searches the Management did, provided the results they wanted. An expendable drone that none would miss should something unfortunate happen.
Changing the perspective of the monitor, he then brought up the most recent report concerning a noticeable thorn in the side of the organization: Ky Kiske. Thankfully, there was nothing new and had yet to be a transmit from the listening device planted in his house. In fact, it was past due when the transmitter would make its report. Just barely. That could only mean one thing. Either the transmitter was nonfunctional or he had found it.
With a small sigh of relief, he found no one had accessed the file that held the last known transmission. Turning the volume down low on his unit, he played the sound file with his ear pressed to the small speaker on the desk. His eyes soon widened at the realization of whom he was listening to. There was no mistake. Sol Badguy and the assumed dead Commander Gear. With another quick set of keystrokes, the sound file was deleted and replaced with a composite of various silence from Ky's house. The Management would never be the wiser and Dizzy would be safe from the eyes of the Committee for now. Sensing Opacus was ready to close, he convincingly falsified another report to make Kiske less suspicious than usual. Still, there would be a heavy price to pay if the Committee ever found out. But he knew this was worth it... in fact, he felt at times like he was born for this role. Being the first chink in the nearly impenetrable armor of the PWAB.
It was beyond imperative that Dizzy be kept safe. It wasn't just for him or his 'previous employers'. But perhaps mankind's chance for freedom from the Bureau.
She was the hope of the world, after all.
---
Dressed in a simple white cotton button down shirt, black slacks, and a pair of shoes that seemed a size too large for her, Dizzy, going by her alias, Luveria Moroumetz, entered the police station.
She and Ky had talked for the past few days about what she could do when she came in to ask for a position. He had informed her that this branch of the International Police needed more recorders.
It was a given considering much of the International Police's respect had waned severely with the dissolution of the Holy Order and the reinstitution of the United Nations Security Council.
Because of which, extra personnel was always welcomed into any branch. Dizzy would be no expection to this, provided she kept her Gear side hidden. After all, help was help.
It was slightly uncomfortable to keep her wings and tail retracted for that long, but knowing the alternative, she figured slight discomfort wasn't so bad.
The application process wasn't as harrowing as she feared. As per Ky's predictions, her background check went off without a hitch and every thing seemed to be going well. But, as with all jobs, there was the interview to handle, and she had been prepared for the most of it. She was sat in a normal room in the station, like any other, the door slightly ajar to see out of, but she dared not look out, anything considered odd was a death sentence to her. It was going well... until the examiner brought up a question which she didn't really prepare for.
"Ms. Moroumetz, if you don't mind me asking, the Crusades have been over for nearly a decade. Kind of odd looking for a job now when most people were doing that after the war."
Dizzy caught herself before a gasp could escape her mouth. Too many frightening possibilities were coming to mind if she said the wrong thing. Her cover could be lost before it could even be established. She was almost ready to panic when Undine's words the night before came to mind, and Undine repeating them silently in her head to ease her from showing physical distress, and would mean failure for the job, and to Dizzy's conclusion, being caught, found, and killed. Gathering her courage, she answered calmly.
"Well, I wanted to stay and help my parents and friends because they did a lot for me. In plus, I was a little young ten years ago."
To her relief, the examiner smiled softly. "I'm not surprised. Justice really did a number on us and we all needed more time than what we got to rebuild. But hey, we're not without trying."
There was no further incident during the interview as the examiner put her through a few mundane procedures dealing with processing of records, citations, cases, and so on. With her advanced mind, she was able to pass easily, however, Ky had warned her not to perform perfectly, otherwise it would rouse suspicion.
So, passing off perfectly as a human, Dizzy felt a small sense of accomplishment settling into a new life. However, the enthusiasm slowly vanished when she analyzed it more thoroughly and knew it was a life in hiding.
When she was with the pirates, it was an open life with no one looking over your shoulder. This was one to be lived in fear and eternal, unwavering vigilance.
After the interview, she was taken to the archives, to officialize her job. From the archives room, she took a glance to the offices across the hallway and saw Ky speaking with two other officers. Though she was supposed to be protected by this man, her spirits sunk even lower. A part of her hoped things would improve...
...then she remembered Porvoo-3 and shook her head. No. Things would only remain quiet and then she'd have to run in the night once more before it all came to a head.
---
With a conversation with two other officers complete, Ky dismissed the men and allowed himself a little time to return to the domestic dispute case he started an hour ago. Looking up, he noticed Dizzy being shown the procedures of the job by Anna. She was a fast learner, and it would work to her advantage easily. Yet, it could just as easily work against her.
During their time of preparation, he had surreptitiously used a few word games which would have easily confused those who were not paying attention. She was able to see through his ruse perfectly, though she probably said nothing to indicate her unhappiness at being tried when she had doing nothing to receive such treatment.
Ky wanted to believe that things could work out for her now, but it was just too far fetched for even himself to believe. Despite doing everything he could to make sure everything would run smoothly, he still had doubts about this whole compromise.
Why, Sol? He mused to himself, taking an occasional glance towards Dizzy across the hall. Why me? You know as well as I do that I would sooner turn her in than protect her from my own superiors. A frown creased his face as he struggled to understand the hated bounty hunter's motives. As soon as he got some time off to himself, he would hunt down Sol once more and demand an explanation. Outclassed or not, Ky would not be denied.
"Mr. Kiske! Call for you on line three," cried the secretary from the front.
"Just a moment," he replied, reaching for his phone unit. If he was right, then it was one of his contacts in Zepp giving him some much needed news on the Robo-Ky's that had been hunting him.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Kiske."
He blinked at the sound of a woman's voice on the other end. It was no one he recognized. "Who is this?"
"An old friend, if you must know."
Looking around, he made sure no one was watching him as he lowered his voice into the phone. "I apologize, but I don't recall the voice in the least."
The voice on the other end seemed slightly perturbed, but not offended. "Come on, Ky. It hasn't been that long. Besides, I got a message from Sol you'd probably like to hear."
Ky's suspicions grew. Sol was never one to beat around the bush. In fact, whenever Sol wanted to get in touch with someone, he always did it face to face. He never had anyone give messages for him.
"Somehow, I doubt that Sol Badguy would give a message to anyone."
"You don't know him that well," the woman said before adding mischievously, "unless there's something you're not telling us about you and him."
Ky's frown grew. A few of the office workers at the station had gotten a good laugh out of his obsession with defeating Sol, and construed it to make it appear they were lovers. Of course, whenever Ky was present about it or heard from someone who was, his mere presence and authority put those words to silence. Ky simply loathed Sol at best, and outright hated him at the worst.
However, she did have a point. Try as he may, he had never truly figured out the thought patterns of the man he hated most. So he had no choice but to concede the point.
Hildegard continued casually. "Don't worry about it too much. Not even we can figure the guy out and we know him better than you do, but enough of that."
Ky wanted to argue that, but realized that any thing he could have said would only make things worse. Silently, he listened.
"This is what he told me to tell you, and I quote, 'Hey, kid. I got something for ya. There's a boat with a secret treasure in it. Just a few old stories. It's not much good for me, but I figured you'd go dizzy over it.'. Got any idea what it means?"
Ky's eyes widened when he realized that either this Hildegard knew he was harboring Dizzy or it really was from Sol. And the boat... the Jellyfish Pirates craft? Perhaps the 'old stories' were the information as to why Johnny Sfondi and his crew were dead.
Faking a sigh of frustration, he answered, "I haven't the slightest idea what it means."
"I see... oh well, whatever the case may be, Ky, take care. And don't worry, you aren't alone."
He was about to ask what Hildegard meant when she hung up before he could form the words. It seemed that everyone knew what was going on except him... and that jarred him greatly. Why the idea of not tracing the line or pursuing the contact didn't spring to instant mind wasn't out of stupidity, but rather that if he did, there was reason to know, and his reason couldn't be overlooked, so he let the call slide, for now.
---
Hanging up the phone, 'Hildegard' allowed herself a small smile. It was quite amusing playing with the hero of the Crusades. She allowed herself an enthusiastic smile and leaned back into her chair of her office.
She was a woman of twenty-five years and of moderate size and therefore, didn't stand out too much. Which suited her just fine. Though her rich and thick red hair, perpetually hanging from a pony tail at the back of her head, was sort of an eye sore, people just shrugged it off.
Words could not convey just how much she loved her job. Even risking the ire of the P.W.A.B. was overshadowed by the potential reward. Perhaps it would create a world where her children would not have to worry about someone watching over their shoulder.
"Did he get the message?" a man's voice with a distinct Romanian accent asked from a chair across from her chair. Slayer was quite a man in her eyes. Helplessly devoted to his wife and though seemingly bored with the petty struggles of mere mortals like herself, she knew were his conscience lay. It was for that, she would be grateful.
"Yes, he did. I know he understood it too. Let's just hope he doesn't ruin it before Sol gets the 'old stories' to him. You know how fussy he can get."
The vampire smiled calmly and blew a small ring of smoke from the pipe in his mouth. "That I do. But he should never be underestimated. Justice did that and she paid for it dearly."
"That I believe," 'Hildegard' said. "But it was Sol that killed her."
Slayer remained resolute. "Be that as it may, I believe the Guardian of the Day would have been more than capable of ending Justice's life."
'Hildegard's' eye cocked in surprise. "You think that highly of him?"
Slayer stood up and gave her a cryptic grin before heading out. "I do more than think. I know."
She got the idea and let the matter go. "If I may ask, sir. Why are you even bothering helping us in the first place?"
Melding into the shadows, the ancient vampire answered calmly, "Because, I feel the Shadow Hearts is worthy to fulfill the same role the Assassin's Guild did when I first created it."
She bowed her head in respect. "I am honored to hear that."
"Though, I bite my tongue in saying it, because you'd be no better off than the Guild now if you let it go to your heads."
"And the Guild is…?"
"A living corpse."
---
Ky, writing idly in the report in front of him, noticed Dizzy scurrying this way and that with files in her arms. It appeared she was getting used to this, which was good. If luck was on their side, then she would be able to keep her identity secret.
He sighed and went back to his report. It was more than jarring to know that he was practically living two lives now. One was supposed to be the Ky Kiske everyone knew. The hero of the Crusades. The Slayer of Justice in some circles.
The last name irritated him about as much as any of Sol's taunts. He was only a part of Justice's sealing. There had been many brave men and women that gave their lives to complete the incantation and put away the nightmarish Gear into the prison dimension.
And even then, it would only be made pointless by Testament's meddling a few years later. The world had enough of war. Perhaps... was that was Sol was referring to when he had questioned him about 'That Man'? That it should be left to die and left alone? That strategy didn't work for Justice, why should Ky approach it to 'That Man'?
If that was so, then Ky knew that it had to be found. The truth needed to be known, regardless of how unpleasant it could be. Otherwise, there would be future generations repeating the mistakes of the past and with more dire consequences. To think that Justice was waging a war that dragged on for a century and was always a hair's width away from victory (and defeat) by the time he took command.
He looked to the setting sun and realized that time had passed sooner than he noticed.
"Miguel," he asked to one of the office workers across from him, "what time is it?"
The aforementioned was closing up his workspace and gathering his jacket. "I'm taking a guess, Officer Kiske, but I think it's time to go home, for me anyway. The night shift should be coming in any minute now."
He looked over to the recorder's offices and figured Dizzy must have already left. Though he was supposed to be her guardian, he felt a bit guilty for not noticing her departure. By definition, he was supposed to be watching over her. Not to mention that Dizzy leaving was suspicious to him, if not anyone else. She might leave because it was right in the co-worker's eyes, but to him, he saw trouble.
"If that's the case, I think I'll head out too."
Miguel cocked an eyebrow and a humored grin at him, "Well, that's a first. You've always been here after hours. Is Mr. All-Work-And-No-Play finally letting himself loose? Is there a girl involved? And I'm not talking about that China girl you broke up with."
Ky, on the other hand, was not amused by Miguel's intrusive behavior. "I –am- your higher up in this chain of command, but I'll pretend you said none of that. Now, if you'll excuse me." The Thunderseal sheathed in his scabbard, he walked out of the office faster than he would have liked. And he walked uncomfortably fast until he was sure he was out of range of Miguel's constant questions.
Opening the door to his house, Ky stepped in, closed the door, and locked it with a grateful breath. It had been a long day and he was glad that it was over for once.
Placing his jacket on the rack, he walked into the living room to see Dizzy, sitting on the floor, against the wall with her face in her hands. At first, he didn't care, she was a Gear, deal with it, and now that he was home, he didn't have to put up with it. But a mournful look up as she saw him enter, and a few minutes later, after going to the kitchen and doing a few normal after-work activities, his conscious winning out and going to her side, being the saint he was.
"Dizzy, are you alright?"
Looking up, he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. It wasn't physical, but whatever it was, it had taken much from her. He could tell she wanted to shake her head, but held it back.
"Mr. Kiske..." she began in a whisper, "I... I'm not sure I can get used to this."
Ky wanted to tell her otherwise, tell her she had to. He knew she could adapt and would most likely overcome, but his own doubts swallowed up the optimism he had earlier that day. However, it would be cruel of him to be apathetic to her situation, even if she was a Gear.
Taking a seat on a chair, he looked into her eyes and replied as tactfully as he could, "You will and so will I."
Not expecting the latter half of the answer she asked, "You?"
He nodded. "If you're discovered, you may be captured by the Bureau and I will most likely be imprisoned for harboring a Commander Gear." He secretly knew he didn't need that second to last word, as harboring a Gear at all, the fear of humanity, would draw enough bad looks, calls of backstabbing, consorting with the enemy, and the question of how it could still be alive. It was a mess if she was found, and he had to deal with it, and the consequences.
That wasn't the whole truth. The UN Security Council had passed a law some years back that anyone harboring a Gear for any reason were executed with no trial. There had been smaller militias attempting to 'train' Gears to do their bidding with the loss of Justice and they were all dealt with swiftly and harshly. Ky himself had encountered a few such groups in the past and felt the law unjust, but said nothing. He also could sympathize, considering his own background in fighting Gears, that the world was fearful of any Gear what so ever. The thought of maybe it could turn its back and become like Justice was too great to use their benefits.
The sad look on Dizzy's face deepened and she curled up against the corner, letting her forearms rest on her knees. Her tail, now free from the clothes, curled around her feet as though she were trying to keep herself warm. It instinctively slithered tighter, no thought given by Dizzy to its actions, like one didn't need to think to breathe.
She whispered to herself, though it was audible to his ears. "It's like Porvoo-3 all over again."
"Porvoo-3?"
She looked up and nodded. "It was the town in Finland where I grew up. My dad told me it was a big city at one time, but when I lived there, it was a small hamlet."
The pieces slowly fit together in Ky's mind. Though he felt he was intruding, he had to ask.
"What happened?"
Dizzy sighed, not wishing to relive the memory, but knew he deserved to hear the story.
-
Dizzy was only one year old, but already she had the appearance of a child of six. Her dark blue hair was already growing like a weed and no matter how often her mother cut it, it would only grow back just as fast. She often giggled innocently at her mothers light frustration and feeling no other recourse, taught her how to tie the two ribbons in her hair.
One morning, she was sitting atop the shoulders of her father as they walked through the slowly vanishing mist of the woods by the small house they lived in. It was a sight she never got bored of. It was as almost if Heaven had moved to the forest and they were free to visit anytime they wished.
Her father was a large man. Easily six and a half feet tall with a physique that belied his age. Being in the Holy Order had left him strong and even in retirement, he was still one of the stronger men in any armed force. He refused to be sedate and kept going and with a baby girl to take care of, he found himself moving more than he would have liked.
The heavy beard around his face tickled Dizzy's skin whenever she hugged him or kissed him on the cheek. Despite it growing in a light silvery tint, there was a still a bit of light brown around the top.
Dizzy instinctively adjusted her balance with every large step her father took to avoid the larger roots and giggled whenever he purposefully jumped to avoid a non-threatening rock. However, the usually joyful walk was slightly marred by something that had been gnawing at her for a while.
"Daddy..." Dizzy asked solemnly.
"Yes, dear?" Iliya asked, noting the tone in his daughter's voice.
"When I go into town... the others look at me strange. Did I do something?"
Without stopping, he answered casually. "No. They've never seen you much and they think they're seeing someone different."
Despite her father's good intentions, she couldn't help but feel there was something more. "Am I different?"
Again, the confidence in her father's gentle tone didn't waver. "Yes, but then again, everyone's different. And I think it's better that way. It'd be awfully boring if we were all the same."
Satisfied with the answer, Dizzy wrapped her small hands around her father's head and kissed the top. Her daddy was her best friend and she hoped he would never leave.
-
"By that time, nothing had happened, but I had a feeling it wouldn't last. Another year later..."
-
Dizzy looked in wonder at the several boys and girls playing a simple game where one was 'it' and everyone did everything in their power to avoid contact. Should anyone be touched, they would be 'it' and would have to place the label on someone else by the same method. What caught her attention most was how much they were moving, the laughter, and all the joy they were having.
They were all roughly her own age, she was only two and they ten to twelve. She looked enough like them to pass as one of their own and felt the need to join them in their game.
"Hey, can I play too?"
One of the smaller boys, Olaf, replied, "Sure! But you get it be 'it'!"
With a gleeful sprint, she flew into the game and found the other children to be faster than she anticipated. For a minute, she laughed and chased one of the other girls, touched her on the shoulder, squealed, "You're it!" and dashed the other way.
The girl shouted in shock and then started advancing on Dizzy as fast as her eleven year old legs could carry her. However, Dizzy was still faster and soon the girl had to find someone else to tag.
The same mindlessly fun game continued for roughly ten more minutes, none of them having a care in the world. Dizzy was about to tag the boy that had invited her in when the voice of an adult stopped them all in their tracks.
"OLAF!" screamed his mother from the distance.
The boy froze in terror, not knowing what he had done wrong. His confusion escalated when his mother grabbed his arm, "What are you doing?!"
On the brink of tears, Olaf replied quickly, "I... I was just playing tag... and..."
"And you were letting that... that... THING touch you?!" the mother said with an angry glare in Dizzy's direction.
Olaf's further protests and then his forceful departure seemed like a distant echo as the mother's accusation reverberated in her memory in an infinite loop. It seemed as thought someone had struck Dizzy on the cheek and confirmed the suspicions she had recalled a year ago.
Despite the other childrens' confusion on the matter and their insistence they she stay, Dizzy declined and ran home. She ran, hoping they wouldn't see the tears gushing out of her eyes.
-
"I tried not to let it bother me, but it was then that I realized I wasn't human. And not long after that, my wings and tail appeared. I was scared to go out. Eventually, during the spring after my third birthday..."
-
Dizzy was reading one of the books in her father's small library. She had already read through them all once, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to read them again. Despite it not having a happy ending, she enjoyed reading 'The Once and Future King'.
Dizzy liked the hero, Arthur, and would at times wished he was alive. There seemed so much wrong in the world and he would have found a way to make it right.
"Danger approaches!" Necro whispered from the back of her mind.
Putting the book down, she stepped out of the study to main room where the window showed her a frightening sight.
There was a mob of people outside. A few torches lit the darkness and a few carried pitchforks and what not. But that's not what scared her. She could see the faces of some of them in the crowd. There was anger, rage, and hatred that seemed to have a specific target in mind.
"Luveria, keep down," her father whispered quickly, taking the Earth Seal from his study and stepping to the front door, his weapon hoisted on his shoulder. She had asked about the large hammer/halberd her father once wielded in the service of the Holy Order. Though he himself did not know much about its origin, he did know that it was a weapon of great power, meant for those that would defend humanity from the dreaded Justice.
Out of curiosity, she had tried to lift the weapon, but to her shock, she had received a powerful jolt and was unconscious for nearly a day for merely touching it. There was something powerful about the weapon and she never desired to be near it again.
When interest of the Earth Seal waned, she wanted to hear the stories of his days in battle, but he had always refrained, not wishing to relieve the past. She had learned that was a time he would have rather forgotten.
Feeling her heart race, she crawled to her mother, who also stood out of direct sight of the window. "Mom, what's going on? Why are they here?" she asked, nearly overcome with fear.
Her mother, a brave woman that had seen many things worse than this, frowned, "They're scared."
"Scared? Of what?"
Her mother, Velija, looked to her sadly, "They're scared of you, dear. They don't know why, but this is the only way they can deal with it and it makes them fools for it."
"What's the meaning of this?!" Iliya screamed to the mob.
"We know she's there, Moroumetz! Send her out!" one man in the mob replied, accompanied by several shouts of agreement.
She saw her father frown. "What for? She's done nothing to warrant this treatment."
A woman spoke up, this one Dizzy recognized as Olaf's mother, "That doesn't matter. Don't you realize that she, no, it's a Gear?!"
Iliya tilted his head, unconvinced, "Odd. Last time I saw her, she was as human as the rest of us."
The first man screamed in incredulance, "What kind of human has wings and tail?!"
Another roared, "That thing's a menace!"
Several more people also spoke up, "We gotta get rid of it or it'll kill us!"
Iliya folded his arms, "I will not allow that. She's my daughter!"
The first man, along with a few others, scoffed, "Who's gonna stop us, Moroumetz? You?"
The answer was quick and violent. Swinging the hammer head of the Earth Seal into the ground, a very noticeable tremor shook the ground and the mob.
When the group had finally got it's footing again, they were about to charge Iliya when they realized something different about him.
Dizzy gasped in shock when she saw how drastically her father had changed. His heavy breathing was noticeable in the still chilly air, puffing out in noticeable steam clouds. And he was hunched over, growling like an animal. Now she understood why he never wanted to speak of his time in the Holy Order.
"If any of you..." Iliya snarled, "...bring harm to my daughter, I will make you wish your mothers negated your births! And I'm sure this works just as well on humans as it does on Gears!"
The mob, finally understanding with whom they were dealing with, quickly dispersed. Standing by himself, Dizzy saw her father return to being the man she knew. However, there was a visible sadness in his countenance as he returned to the house.
Passing through the door, her mother walked up to her husband and embraced him as best as she could. Dizzy didn't know what to think until her father looked at her with shame in his eyes. Forgetting her own dilemma, she hurried to her father's side and held him as tears induced by past trauma returned.
-
"It was then I knew that I had to leave. My parents were going to be hurt one way or another. So, the next night..."
-
Stepping as quietly as her feet would allow her, she moved to the back door. All she had was the black dress with white collar on her back, and a small backpack of supplies. Perhaps she could find a place where she would be safe and her parents would be left in peace with her gone. She didn't want to do this, but the choice was no longer available to her.
"Do you really think this is necessary?" her father asked from the shadows. Though he hard a hard time facing her after the previous night's events, he would not shirk his responsibilities as a parent.
She nodded. "Yes. I have to otherwise they may do something to you and mom just to get at me. This is the only way."
Her father frowned, "I was never fond of abuse in any form. We can find a way to get around this."
She sighed quietly, "I know... but if I'm not here, then that means they'll leave you alone. I don't want you or mom getting hurt because of me. I have to go."
Iliya remained still as he continued, "What makes you so certain things will improve when you go?"
She looked to her father sadly, "I don't know... but what I do know is that things won't get any better the longer I stay."
Her father knew the truth in her words, but didn't want to admit it. "Where will you go? What will you do?"
She looked to the outside and replied, "There's a grove, to the far north where I know nobody goes to. It's a long distance from here and they won't be able to find it."
"Luveria..."
She sniffed and looked to her father. "I don't want to go... but I have to!"
In resignation, her father opened his arms like he did when she looked like a six year old. With tears in her eyes, she embraced her father desperately and said between sobs, "I'll come back, dad! I promise! I'll find a place where you don't have to worry about these things!"
Her father kissed the top of her head. "Your mother and I will be waiting, Luveria."
Wiping the tears away, she moved through the door, and into the night, wanting to look back to the good man and woman that loved her despite the fact she was a Gear, but couldn't. Her face was soaked with tears before she even left the yard.
-
Like in the past, Dizzy wiped away the tears that had gathered in her eyes. Feeling slightly embarrassed, she looked to see Ky was completely fixed upon her story. Yet, he still wore no expression that Dizzy could place a name to, simply listening without any sort of twinge of emotion or compassion, just blankly listening.
"It's not the best way I could tell it, but it's what I remember," she admitted sadly.
He stood up and walked into his study. As he walked through the door, Ky stopped and said without turning to her, "For what it's worth, Dizzy... I believe you."
She was surprised, as were her guardians that slowly crept into her mind.
"Perhaps he does not fear us as much as he used to," Undine offered, "he may trust us yet."
"I can still feel the suspicion in his voice, but he spoke the truth when he said he believed us," Necro added, "so, you may be right, Undine. However, I only have one issue with him…"
"And that is?" Undine asked presumptuously, the voices bouncing off of the walls of Dizzy's head.
"He didn't ask how Dizzy could have been born by humans, a member of the Holy Order no less."
"We don't have those answers anyway, so it's best he not ask it."
Whether her guardians were right or wrong remained to be seen. However, the little encouragement he gave her was most likely enough for her to believe that she could do this.
She would do her best.
End of Chapter 3
Notes: Major thanks to Zero Nova for beta reading this chapter. I only expected a small 'what did you think' response and lo and behold, he went the extra mile. Zero, you rock.
A theme I hope this story will portray is that the PWAB, though powerful and what not, isn't without its enemies and vulnerable in some way. And I'm not referring to the plucky cast of odd balls from the game either.
I was hoping to place the Dizzy backstory at a later date, but found it able to work around here. I'm well aware that she was hidden in the Grove by her adopted parents, according to the official story, but we fanfic authors can take a liberty here and there, no?
Bear in mind, folks, I started out this story with a beginning, an end, and a few select scenes in between. It gives me a little room to work in ideas with and the suggestions of those that I find useful (like Zero Nova's).
Oh yes, fanfic points for those that can guess Hildegard's identity. There's a hint in the conversation with Slayer. You can spend your points freely at the gift shop for useless toiletries. :p
Well, with that said, all things Guilty Gear belong to Sammy, Daisuke Ishiwatari, and his avatar, Sol Badguy.
