The missions from all across the European landscape were over, and the new trainees proved themselves as valuable assets one by one. Sami Hanna's exploits against the serial-killing Akuma in Paris were reported by a letter forwarded from Lavi to the Finder Network, which eventually linked back to the Black Order Headquarters in England. Shortly after that letter arrived, another came in from the Netherlands about Yoko Kyoukan's triumph, and the securing of an Innocence in a Belgian chocolate factory. For some strange reason, there was a request for the removal of a full-body adhesive that was obtained on the mission, but the substance was never specified. Reever shook this off and continued on with retailing the Letters of Order, sent in by the local Finders in specific countries. Out from an outpost in Konigsberg in the German Empire, a letter came in stating that Allen Walker, Lenalee Lee and Yoshimata Hakitawa were on their way back from the nether-regions of the Russian Empire. There was no letter sent from the mission in Iberia, but that hardly worried Reever; there was probably just some problem getting the three Exorcists some transportation. It always happens, now and again. He, in the back of his mind, heard breathing from behind him, and turned around to meet the curious face of Johnny. Startled at first, Reever soon composed himself and inquired as to why he was looking over his shoulder.

Johnny seemed a bit nervous, telling from the amount of apprehension in his voice. "Well, it's just that I'm curious as to how the missions went. We all are, in the Science Department, since only Komui usually gets to review these reports from the Finders."

Raising his eyebrow in suspicion, Reever pressured him further with insistence, "Is that all?"

Johnny sort of blushed, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "Not really," He trailed on. "We all wanted to know how to the new recruits are doing. The older scientists in the Order used to tell us that newest Exorcist recruits almost always are the first ones to die in their first missions, especially if their missions range far from Europe." His face grew a tad more upset with the emotions swirling inside of his mind, "And we just sent them off so easily! We didn't give them any time to work on their fighting techniques or even to get used to their weapons at all! They just walked in here, stayed for a week, and then we sent them off to a set of pending missions that had been in the queue!" He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead of perspiration with his sleeve, but the lab-coat was not very absorbent, nor was the idea itself very polite.

Reever promptly took a handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to his colleague, whom accepted it with grace to wipe his stress away. Once Johnny composed himself, the Acting-Director laid down what he considered to be the honest truth. "I hate the idea that we have to send kids out there to do the jobs of adults, but we can't help it that way." He gave a befuddled shrug. "They were given these powers by either God or nature, but either way that doesn't change the urgency of this matter. Most of the Innocence in the world has been founded in the last three decades or so, mostly by the two generations of Exorcists we have now. We will need the Exorcists whom are either born with, or are compatible with, these Innocence's to be able to hold our own against the Noah and the Earl. We all know the consequences of failure." He swiveled towards his desk and took out a few files from the pile on his desk, seemingly placed there out of a need to constantly check on something inside of them. "Besides all of that, these new Exorcists are some of the most prospective we've seen in a while, probably even since Allen." He unfolded them like a cards-master in his hand, showing the names scribbled on the manila folders. "Yoko Kyoukan is a former Greek royal guard for the Princess, decorated for honors of service that has included most of her life. Dairu Gottschalk is part of a family line of Ottoman Turkish Janissaries, elite warriors, and was in the process of training as per his family customs. Two with military training, right there." He put the two folders down, three remaining. Picking up another, "Yoshimata Hakitawa has shown his, although apprehensive, use of martial-arts and hand-to-hand combat against Allen, an experienced Exorcist, and managed to match him on his first try! This could be contributed to Allen's holiday time, but the fact that Yoshimata was injured in the leg and was still able to take on an albeit at-rest Allen is quite an accomplishment. Joseph and Sami refused to give out their own histories, but the fact stands as so that the majority of these kids have had some sort of combat training." He brought his eyes to bear with Johnny's and gave his best to make his voice sound the most comforting, "Don't worry so much about what those old men say; they'll be just fine as long as they keep on their toes."

Johnny seemed to try and find another argument against this, but he could muster none. So, he simply gave an accepting nod and gave his bids for a good slumber for the night.

When the door was closed behind Johnny, Reever gave out a sigh of relief from such a tension-filled moment. That fact-listing was from his own concerned search for information on the new-comers not only from their official, off-sight interviews with Kumoi, but also from what records that could be found publicly by different British and Finder informants. Other than what we've been able to turn up right there, we might not know all there is to know about them He leaned backwards and closed his eyes. Chief, do you think that we should learn more about these kids?

A storm brewed within the Mediterranean, with a violent yawn of life it brought its cataclysmic power down upon the Isola del Giglio by the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The island was located off the coast of Tuscany with a negligible local population that kept to the coast-lands, mostly uninterested in the happenings of the interior. From what the locals have heard and been told by government officials, there was a total and thorough survey for any resources or intriguing artifacts and architecture in the sparse pine forests, but all have officially turned up with nothing but common flora and fauna. Officially. Unofficially, within the forest was a manor guarded by several men in gala uniform. At the gates, six out of eight men were standing guard armed with halberds to supplement what seemed to be ceremonial-only rapier straight sabres, while the two other guards that were standing in front of the six with three at both sides of the gate were armed with bolt-action Carcano rifles. They were pious men, all, being uniformed guardsmen within the Corps of the Pontifical Swiss Guard to the Holy See, and they were specially selected for this one assignment: protecting the Directors of the Black Order Branches.

Inside of the manor, deep within its heavily patrolled corridors and simplistically furnished rooms, there was a door locked from brass hinge to brass hinge on its heavy mahogany frame. It guarded a room filled with various men, and even a woman, in white uniforms. Due to budgetary constraints and the lack of qualified or willing personnel, many of these peoples held multiple jobs in the branches they led. For example, Komui Lee was both the leading officer in the Black Order European Branch, also the head-quarters of the Order, and was put in charge of the Science Department due to his aptitude for construction and invention. The table they were gathered around was made of oak long since carved away from its tree and crafted with precisely placed cuts from carpenters, yet the wood they sat around and the craftsman's knives would never compare to the emotionally dead and characteristically sharp eyes of Malcom C. Leverier. He had ensquared the table twice once every Branch Director had taken their seat, and then took his own seat at its head. The storm's mighty reverberations echoed throughout the halls, all the way into the secluded and windowless room to seemingly march in beat with the man's footfalls.

Malcolm cleared his throat with a deft cough and gave himself permission to begin the conclusive meeting. "The Vatican has, for about thirty years, established a formalized Peter's Pence to fund the Black Order's activities. As you all remember, or at least know from word of textbook and mouth, the Papal States were occupied by the Sardinians in their 'war of unification'. So now, we cannot rely on the support of a wide-spread and centralized population to line the Holy See's economic bank-vaults." He leaned forward with his hands serving as a bony, pale-white cushion for his sharp chin. "Over the centuries since the establishment of the Catholic Church, the Vatican has kept funding of the 'Secular Sciences Divisions' to a strict flow. This includes the hiring of current inventors that have made significant break-throughs behind the scenes of the public eye. We have paid these magnificently intelligent individuals to keep their silence on their discoveries that we would rather keep under our control. This, of course, is under the contract that their discoveries would be laid out for either their 'real-time discovery' by themselves in the future, or by their later ancestors." Malcolm gave an exhasperated sigh of seemingly thorough frustration. "This, coupled with the fact that the Banks of the Vatican are basically cut off from further advancement of the Peter Pence because of the spread of Protestantism to many Catholic regions or potential colonies of Roman Catholic-orientated nations leads us to this conclusion: the Black Order and the Vatican face bankruptcy within the coming years, and eventually the defaulting of the Catholic Church."

The silence consumed the room as if the waves that once moved with the man they heeded to by force were now with the silence and filling the room to the core in an effort to stifle any chances of even a pin-drop bounce bringing any notice. Mansah Desmarais of the West African Branch leaned forward to show his dark, damp skin from the rain and humidity glistening, as well as to ask of a question. "What will happen to the Black Order if this 'default' happens, Monsieur Leverier?" He rubbed the cross on the wrist-bracelet that honored his left arm. He spoke with a French-Akan accent, obviously from looks and mannerisms out of place in this elitist caste of Europeans.

Malcolm looked to Mansah with a sort of glance that one would give if they were to suddenly notice something visibly or presently repugnant in the room, but was trying by stature and practice to hide any sort of notable disgust. "Then we will have two options: cut down all Order activities, including any and all technologies or private funding to inventors despite the ramifications of the lack of sponsored scientific discoveries to the incoming century. The future generations of our," His voice became cautious as he was talking directly to Mansah before he looked to the rest of the council and continued, "kind must be equipped with these technologies to both increase transit between countries, but also to allow for rapid deployment of Exorcists to each and every empire, nation, continent and quarry around the world. For every year towards what we would never know to be our Judgment Day at the hands of this heretic, the attacks and slaughters by Noah and Akuma alike will simply grow in morbidity, while our Exorcists would be left with current technologies that would simply force them to be in the position of facing either overwhelming odds, or to be left with the blame of such events." His fingers fell to the table lightly and brushed the top as if trying to reconfigure the universe from the seat of God. Malcolm looked to Komui Lee of the Headquarters branch with a slight flare of curiosity in his stare. "Komui, I have received your filed reports that we have a new group of Exorcists within the Black Order." His hands met, still upon the table, and cupped themselves. "What have they told you about themselves?"

Komui seemed surprised by the question, but recovered and responded, "They have let us know their basic personal information, but I'm afraid we have no response as to background history outside of one of them, a Miss Yoko Kyokan." He gave out a small shrug of disappointment, "They have reserved their right to keep their background histories a mystery, and we chose to respect their wishes." Komui seemed to wait in hesitation, knowing full-well of Malcolm's terms on even the slightest mishap. He wanted information, he got information. He wanted gold, he got gold. What Malcolm wants, it's what Malcolm gets. No exceptions.

However, despite this denial of appraise in information, Malcolm gave an equally small quirk of admission and simply closed his eyes in a down-ward motion to the table. "Very well, then. Let us continue on from this subject to the matter of our missing director." This turned the entire room's attention to the vacated chair between the South American Branch Director and the chair of Mansah Desmarais, Director of the small but humble West African Branch. "Has anyone received any letter from our dearest North American Branch as to why their director is absent? Director Lola Delgado despite his most humbling of circumstances of facing a terrible storm on his way still made the trip; why does Director Alders scorn us so?"

Once again Komui was called to the front-line for facing Malcolm, since he did have a legitimate reason for this transgression. "We were unfortunate enough to lack the foresight that the new motorized ship would break down when it got exactly to the Bay of Chesapeake. Since this ship was practically off on training-runs and not in full-proof form to require other Branches to carry identical parts or specialists trained to handle these types of situations. So, she simply sent a message via a rationed golem to us and asked for assistance in repairing the vehicle. That, within itself, will take about a month to perform."

Malcolm's eyebrow rose in query, retorting, "Why did she not leave on a scheduled time like the other directors? She surely must have had plenty of time to use regular transportation?"

Komui shook his head. "Naomi-" He caught himself, about to address her by her first-name as a friend, not as an associate, and shook his head to show his undeniable regret on the mistake. "I'm sorry; I mean, Director Alders was busying herself with tracking down the group of Exorcists that had traveled, peculiarly together, to the United States by undocumented means. She had rathered that she would look for these potential recruits for the Exorcists than to attend this meeting, since she saw that if she left her post for even a week, then the American Finders would have had an even harder time tracking their targets down. It seemed that they were always on the move to her, so she decided that she would keep a close eye on them until she had finally lost all results of progression, which happened in Louisiana when the group had somehow disappeared into the local forests. It was at this point that it was decided by Director Alders to request the European Headquarters' help, due to the fact that Akuma had been sighted in the last known trajectory of their arrival and she had worried that something may have happened."

Malcolm listened as before, but showed no sign of his usual bureaucratic sternness, nor his natural aristocratic way of disapproving every thing the directors did. He simply gave another nod at the end and let out a sigh. It was as simple as a sigh could get, easily executed and not for a second halted for any reason. "Fine. Just inform her of the possible consequences for the second failure of attendance." The meeting room was simply stunned by his composed demeanor. Usually, Malcolm threw his Vatican Weight around far more than a mentally unstable man would say "hm" and "uh". He was of the Leveriers', known as one of the first politically and economically powerful families to support the Black Order's existence. The very fact he was being courteous was a shocking revelation to the rest of the directors, even prompting Director Bak Chan to almost get out of his seat to call for medical attention for Malcolm.

The meeting went on as this pace, but Malcolm seemed to recede from the main stage of the table in terms of discussion, only giving his approval or disapproval per simplistic responses. When the meeting was over, all of the directors left promptly to go about their business in the rest of the huge house. Malcolm had kept behind, still seated in where he was for the longest time. The door closed with a creaking hinge and lock, and the footsteps faded away like apparitions into the darkness. When the silence was total once more, he gave two solid knocks that echoed through the room, and he beckoned with a call of his voice. "Howard, come out of hiding; they're all gone."

With that sly move of his personality, the wall behind him gave way to a slide into the perpendicular wall to reveal a large, hidden room. Inside, several listening devices of the current century were being employed, and all around them there was a transcript to the noted letter of every word the directors said. "The transcript is completed, sir."

Malcolm sat up and nodded listlessly with a seemingly characteristically malice-filled grin. He moved strictly to the transcript on a table situated in a way that it would fit just perfectly against the two unmoving walls, and its left side upon the compartment-door. His vision slithered like a cobra over the transcript until his eyes came to a stop upon about five minutes in. "Komui told us that he has absolutely no information on the new recruits for the Exorcists. Is this true?"

With a solemn sigh and a shake of his head, Howard sat down in the chair that he had been cooped up in for the last hour. "He was lying, to an extent. I have checked throughout the British Imperial Educational Documentary for any internships by any of them into British-monitored or owned schools throughout the Empire. We have recorded a slew of instances for one "Yoshimata Hakitawa" taking courses in the British Raj, although in different regions in a seemingly west-ward motion." Howard took out a map from his desk drawer, which was of the aforementioned British Empire on the Indian continent. "Here is the first recorded instance of him taking up charitable public education, here in Rajshahi of the Bengal Presidency. Although the city was devestated about a year or so ago by the earthquake of 1897, some missionaries and free-lance public-colonial schools continued on. There, they taught many primary-school subjects and even the benefits of the English language. He must have learned his beginnings there for Western culture, albeit confusingly." His Lord gave him a confused eye-brow raise, so Howard continued on, "He somehow managed to skim through several of the grades with relative ease. There have been reports from other contacts within the Headquarters' Branch that he, in particular, seems one of the most awkward of the group. This leads me to the conclusion that while he may have been educated, he must have continued on from school district to school district under the misconception of being a British-Indian national. So, he learned from one school about one subject, then went on to discover something entirely different in another."

This caused Malcolm to look down and rub his chin in perplexity. "So, he's either a genius or a lucky imbecile. Very interesting." He raised his head slightly, cocking towards Howard. "Continue. Is there any other information on him?"

Howard nodded. "He, as I stated before, continued on a westward motion towards Europe, although he never signed any documents for legal citizenship. The last documents are a farewell from an Indian harbor-master in Jiwani, whom detailed an Eastern-Asian boy launching from the port, going from island to island and along the coast of South-Eastern and South-Western Arabia until he reached British Somaliland." He rubbed his head in confusion and shock. "There is no way this is possible at all. Minor documents paint a trail all the way from Jiwani to Somaliland and all the way to the Suez Canal, sir." He looked up in deeper confusion, this divulsion bothering him further to no end. "This boy must have had an arguious journey, crossing the seas by what was seemed to have been on a rickety raft. A raft!" He shook again and let the last paper fall. "After that, he just goes off the map. No more reports about him. We need to have a deeper investigation into him, sir! He is an enigma and a mystery!"

This seemed to surprise the tall, statue of a bureaucrat. "You're very enthusiastic about this outsider. He's from the East, yet you seem to act like he's your long-lost brother come home." He leaned forward with an ever-so-slight movement of his back bending downwards. "Why, though?"

I'm acting out…? The German-Prussian young-adult tried to comprehend this out of his moment of grandeur enthusiasm. He recomposed himself within his chair and cleared his throat; his face was glowing red from his blushing. With his face warm to the point of weeping, Howard kept his ripe emotions under wraps. "My apologies, my Lord. I was acting merely out of inherited social grace from my stay at the Headquarters." He tried to look his master in the eye. "It will not happen again, please rest assured."

His attempt at meeting his master eye-to-eye failed miserably, for the man's mustachioed face soon zoomed in from bending over closer to him. "You had best make sure of that, 'Herr' Link." His condescending tone was received as merely a chiding tone to Howard, whom immediately bowed his head and mumbled his apologies like a well-trained choir boy within the Sunday school. "Now, inform me of our new Exorcists… undesirable traits. Keep calm, if you will."

Howard nodded in understanding and took a deep breath in apprehension. "It appears that you will not be pleased by these results. Two of the girls are noted as Greek Orthodox, born and raised in the Kingdom of Greece, and another is another Far-Eastern in the French colony of Indo-China with the presumed faith of Roman Catholicism from an indentured servitude with a French family that apparently abandoned her at some point."

Malcolm gave this a deep consideration. He looked above to the ceiling and gave a seething breath of conclusion. "These seem fine enough. The Greek Orthodoxy could be a problem, but it is far better than nothing. The Roman Catholicism is definitely a plus. Place a definite allocation of resources upon this girl, despite any racial concerns." He smile grew to the point of baring his teeth. "I will not have them. A good Catholic in this Order is far better than not at all. I want to see this girl prosper, not wither." He looked to Howard with pride, but he was not met with an equal face of overjoy as he, rather, a face of bloodymindedness. This quirked Malcolm's notice, "What is the matter now?"

He gave way to apprehension and simply let loose what he had been cautious to say, although piling praise upon one of the subjects in question. "We have three non-believers with in the group. One of them is of a German name officially, but he's actually an Ottoman. A Muslim, sir." Malcolm's face was in utter shock to this information, but Howard did not give him time to react and furthered on with the two others and their belief-systems. "The other is the boy I had mentioned before; the one who had made his way from all the way across the British Raj and Egypt. It seems, sir, that he is of the Buddhist faith."

Malcolm scowled, his voice nearly deteriorating to a territorially animalistic growl, "What in the Hell is that?" His eyebrows were furrowed and his tone severe to the point of infuriation of the highest degree.

Howard seemed coax himself away from his master's anger, clearly trying to keep his focus on his preliminary duty rather than face the religiously-charged wrath of the Vatican's administrator of the Black Order. He took out a small sheet of paper that had different factoids written all over it, both in hammed English and in tidier German. "Buddhism is an Eastern-Asian faith, seemingly a break-off branch of Hinduism long before the establishment of the Raj. It has taken hold over many populaces where there is a lack of Christianity in the East, or discontent with the strict caste structure of the Hindu system. The boy in question seems to have been the initial member of the group, while all four others seemed to just follow him along on the journey for the Black Order. We are unable to ascertain the way that he had any knowledge of us in the first place. There is no indication of sabotage or defection in any way, or even a clear motivation for finding the Order in the first place."

The thunder within Malcolm's eyes, all the way to his brain where his brain concocted and formulated over and over again, soon led to lightning of brain-messages and emotionally-enhancing hormones racing from nerve-cell to nerve-cell, all out-racing the information given through the ears and the drum all the way to the center. This darkened demeanor left a very stoic look upon his face, even as he put a royally-fit rag to his forehead. "Just because he seems innocent enough does not mean he is pure as the snow. I want you to keep an eye on him, although try not to stray from your duties with Walker. If any new information or eventual circumstances arise, inform me at once." He put the rag to the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger. "You may go now, Howard. Do not disappoint me."

The German boy straightened his back and stood at brief attention, as if a soldier to a general. "I would never do so on my own accord, Master." He turned about-face from the compartment, leaving the files there in the likelihood that the Lombardian would want to read them. He had barely even opened the door in the meeting-chamber before lo and behold, the compartment was closed. His master, to be noted, did not choose to leave the files unread by his own ferocious eyes. He reached the top of the flight of stairs from the level where the chamber had taken its root to be greeted by a pristine-glass window with a view to the sky above. The clouds were tumbling upon each other with fierce winds that sliced like broad spectres in a duel of their eternal damnation's, and the rain fell in such a way that if even one were to be covered all over from head-to-toe he would still become drenched. There was a clap of thunder and a shriek of lightning, both at the same time, as if they foreboded the ever-coming demise of some omnipotent force. Howard had never been one to fear anything to do with nature, but now he had finally found the equal to Leverier's eyes: the very clap of God itself within the clouds above.