Hey guys, sorry for the long respite. Been dealing with a bunch of crap but I have sat down and typed this new chapter. Again, apologies for not updating sooner. Enjoy.

The news the specter had brought him was the worst kind in the world. Unknown to Dib at the time, the event was only a harbinger of things to come. Yet for the present circumstances, the events around the news were a tragedy to themselves.

It was a dreary Saturday morning when the sanctuary of the Holy Trinity Church filled with attendees for the funeral. The service was short and simple. After the father spoke the liturgy and gave a brief sermon on the resurrection, the assembly had bowed their heads and given a prayer, after which the father prayed over the casket, gave it a blessing with holy water, and then the entirety of the group sang a hymnal. Afterwards, the casket was led outside by a selected group of pallbearers to the cemetery on the other side of the church, where it was lowered into its designated spot.

The mourners who had gathered on this solemn occasion wept, as the casket was lowered into the earth. The rain started to fall from the oppressive gray clouds overhead, and mixed with their tears. Among them were friends, acquaintances and colleagues of the deceased, along with several anonymous people and various unknown relatives who had come either out of respect to him or for the food which was served beforehand. Among them were the two siblings who just recently had been banished from their now-late-father's home.

Dib heaved a sigh as he held his sister's fragile hand in his. It had been mercury poisoning, as he had learned from one of his father's friends, which had caused his father's unfortunate downfall. A few too many experiments with the fatal substance had finally taken its toll on him. And while his death did nothing to alleviate the situation, it was also a fairly suitable and comforting explanation for Membrane's sporadic behavior in his last days, which was spawned more out of the element's hostile effects than any hostility of his nature.

His sister flung herself into his arms in an embrace and sobbed into his shoulder. The youth stood there as the rain poured down around them and mourners retreated for cover under the sanctuary roof and stared into the rows of graves and mausoleums. In the blurring twinkle of his eyes, barely perceptible yet intangibly real, stood the man in black behind one of the grave pillars, staring back at him with solemn eyes. There were no words to be spoken. Charles merely nodded his head and left, walking along the concrete path and then vanishing into the thin air.

It was an acknowledgment that had brought Charles to his door that late winter night. As the cold winter air whirled around them and the rain came down harder, he produced his umbrella and with the flick of his thumb, instantly shielded them in a black cover. He coaxed his sister gently, rubbing her hair and keeping a tight hold around her as they both walked to the waiting car.

The next few days at their small apartment were wracked with sorrow. It was as if the entire world as they knew it had come crashing down around their heads in an instant. The delusion of their reunification was shattered forever beneath an inexorable and unknowable event that had deprived them of any resemblance to normality they had ever known.

They both took it with a sad ineptness that seemed to be unacquainted with such events. Sure they had lived on their own for practically all their lives, and their paternal father figure was rarely around, but the occasion of his loss marked a fragile point in their relationship. It was now no matter of being blessed once more with their father's good will, but rather, a bleak disappointment on the face of already-turbulent events.

The house and the estate therein, which they had lived in for the better part of their lives, was forfeited with his death. Before he died, the professor, acting in his semi-disillusionment, had still enough brains about him to go and alter the will. In it, he dictated that he had, as he previously stated, disowned his children and that their fortunes were now bequeathed to the state. The state was more than willing to intervene. Their former house and inheritances fell into the custody of city management, and soon after the furniture and other accessories were auctioned off for a fourth of their worth and the house became a government-licensed tenet house for the homeless.

Needless to say, the impact of these events left a scar on the two Membrane children, who saw all they had ever known vanish before their eyes in one government-sanctioned felling. The terrible, swift sword of "justice" had descended like a lightning bolt upon their necks. It had vanquished any sign of happiness from their modest dwelling and was replaced by the brooding, lingering contempt that both felt at the embittering experience.

With so many high emotions provoked, a confrontation between the two was bound to happen. It was only a matter of when one would get the better of the other. Such an event happened barely a week after the dispute of their home had been settled by the judge in the court of law, on a dark winter evening.

Dib stepped briskly to the door of their bedroom, swinging his jacket over his shoulders. His sister, who was still lying face down in the bed, stirred from her slumber to see him fully dressed and preparing to leave. "Where are you going?" she asked, half-asleep.

"Out." he said simply, and continued to button his jacket.

"What do you mean 'out'?"

"Out." he stated again.

She wrestled herself out bed. "You're going out to drink, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" he said bitingly.

"'So what?' Dib, you've never drunk before. This isn't like you."

"Well, I've changed. A lot of things have changed. I'm going out to get a drink."

"No, I forbid you to."

It was now a clash of wills, just as it had always been. From the very moment she locked eyes with him, it was a competition, a struggle, just like anything before it. Two immovable persons who could not be swayed, only now, battling on different terms.

"I'm going out, and there's nothing you can do to stop me." He pushed her to one side and made his way to the dining room to get to the door.

She chased after him and spoke as he placed his palm on the doorknob. "Dib," she said, her voice cracking and tears forming in her eyes, "You step out that door, and I'm leaving."

Dib held his hand for a brief period, swayed by her words, but only momentarily. He latched his fingers on the handle and called her bluff as he stepped out into the apartment hall and slammed the door behind him, leaving only a solitary Gaz, collapsed and crying on the carpeted floor.