"He never fails to surprise me," said Hannibal, leaning against his desk. "And to think he has connections as such."

Thana, the horseman of Famine, gave a simpering smile. "As a criminal, one must know their way through authorities," she said. "When I heard I'd be altering a file for Will Graham…" Her brows rose, and she lazily gazed over at Hannibal. "Well, it was an honor."

"He kept his promise," he muttered, tipping a glass of red wine to his lips. Thana watched, gaze intense.

"When will you tell him?"

Hannibal rose a brow, playing dumb as he gazed at her. "Tell him what?"

Thana rolled her eyes, sitting down on the long couch and brushing a lock of black hair from her pallid face. "That you're Death," said Fames calmly. "Though I've been enjoying the game you play with him, I must admit, I'm growing impatient."

She crossed her legs, leaning against the side of the couch. "Aren't you, as well?"

Lecter walked across the office, sitting in his usual chair. "I find it rather amusing," he drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "To watch him grow—see the way his mind turns every time there's a new message."

A faint smirk toyed the edges of his lips. "He's caught me twice so far—accused me of being Death. Yet, each time, I'm able to persuade him away from the truth."

Thana hummed, gazing down at her thin, bony hands. "When you show him who you really are," she muttered, "how do you think he'll react?" Her eyes flitted up to him, hidden behind thick lashes. "I assume he'd be angry, no doubt."

Hannibal lightly chuckled at that. "Most definitely," he said. "All this time, the truth has been right before him? He will be angry at me, himself… at his abilities." His eyes ran up the ladder on the other side of the room, gazing at the bookshelves. "Despite the anger, I have a feeling he will find a sense of… completion. A final end to the mystery, the messages, the thrill…"

Thana's black eyes glinted. "Will you have your way with him then?"

A dark look came across Hannibal's face, and he smiled. "I want to make history with him," he said. "Of course—for as long as I'm allowed to."

Thana made a face of distaste at that, shaking her head. "Right," she said, remembering. "Your father's orders."

Hannibal bowed his head, sighing. "I'm going to visit him again soon," he said. "Try to change his mind about Will Graham."

"Will Graham has been a pain in your father's eyes for a long time," said Thana. "Many of your relatives have chastised him for not dealing with him sooner." She gazed pointedly at Hannibal. "Though I too wish for him to stay, you must look through this in a realistic lens."

Hannibal nodded. "Love does many things to the mind," he said, taking a sip of wine. "It fogs the brain, changes it… overrides rules and morals."

Thana rose a thin brow, interest glimmering in her eyes. "You've fallen for the human?"

"To the extent which I can feel in this form, yes," said Lecter. Thana shifted in her place, staring at Hannibal.

"That'd make your task much harder, Azmaveth," she said.

Hannibal shook his head. "I'm not attached to Will Graham," he said. "In the time where I must decide whether to choose the Legacy or a human, I will always choose my Legacy."

Thana smiled in satisfaction with his words. "When we meet Mr. Graham," she said, "will we all kill with him?"

Hannibal's eyes glinted, and he set his wine glass down. "I have many plans for him," he said smoothly, mulling over the possibilities. "But for now, I'm focusing on finishing the message."

Thana stood up, brushing herself off. "Well, you know I'll always be watching," she said, stretching her willowy legs. "I can't wait to see how you continue."

Hannibal stood as well, leading her to the door. "Soon," he said. "Soon it will all come together."

Thana smiled, opening the door. "Then I'll see you in the near future," she said. "Have a nice day, Azmaveth."

"And you, as well, Thana," he said with a charming smile, watching her leave.

Later that night, Hannibal sat in his study before the fireplace, hands joined as if in prayer and black eyes staring steadily into the flames.

A memory flashed vaguely in the back of his head as he reached out to his father—the day before he left the Legacy to go down to the human world. He had stood upon the clouds with his father, his wings fluttering delicately, still in the prime of his youth.

"After I harness Will Graham's trust," said Azmaveth, looking away from the world below and up at his father, "what will I do?"

Mortifico turned to his son, gazing down at him through the corner of his eye. His wings shifted rather harshly.

"You will kill him," he said.

Azmaveth merely tilted his head. "The human who kills for our Legacy?"

Mortifico stared steadily at Azmaveth, gazing away without a word. Azmaveth nodded, turning away.

"Yes, father," he muttered.

Hannibal reached further, gazing at the flames. With a low drone, and a sudden wash of cold, the fire blew out. He raised his head, hands still together, and muttered faintly, "Father."

Another drone echoed throughout the room, menacing and loud, and a gust of wind blew over Hannibal's face. He remained stoic, gaze unwavering.

A heavy, bone-crushing weight pressed down on the room.

"The humans are tainting you," said Mortifico, voice low and booming. "You're too cowardly to come up here yourself."

Hannibal only paused, gaze focused on the ceiling above him. "I want to discuss something with you, father," he said. Another cold lash of air whipped through the room. "Concerning Will Graham."

"Oh, that bothersome vulture," drawled Mortifico. "What have you, Azmaveth?"

Hannibal kept his gaze steady. "Before you sent me down here," he said calmly, "we spoke of Will Graham." A gust of wind rustled through his hair. "You told me to harbor his trust, and I have. However—"

A guttural growl echoed through his study, and Hannibal continued, unaffected.

"I do not wish to kill him," said Lecter.

A flash of lightning struck out the window, highlighting the study in blue. Hannibal's jaw only clenched.

"The human trusts me, father," he said. "And once he knows of our Legacy—"

"He will know nothing!" roared Mortifico. Another clap of thunder. Hannibal huffed through his nose, keeping his composure.

"Father—"

"Have you the faintest idea," boomed Mortifico, "of the sacrifices I've made to allow you on the earth?" Hannibal stayed still. "My reputation, my rank, the line of my family—you!"

Lightning crackled out the window, highlighting Hannibal's graven features.

"Sir Perago has been breathing down my back for this petty human. He's rallied other Deathbringers to his side and casts me as the enemy!"

"But Equinox—"

"Equinox is dead," hissed Mortifico. "And you will be, too, if you don't kill Will Graham."

Hannibal stilled, and his fingers tightened, threatening to ball up into fists. He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled, exhaling and reassuring himself.

"I understand," he breathed, eyes glancing downwards. "I will kill Will Graham."

A gust of wind whipped through the study, knocking over papers, and the lightning subsided, leaving the room in darkness.

"If the human is still alive in one month," said Mortifico, voice regal and riddled with authority, "then I will personally see to it that you are properly executed."

Hannibal bowed his head, swallowing. "Yes, father."

"Now face me like a real Deathbringer next time."

With that, the weight on the room lifted, and Hannibal separated his hands, eyes glimmering with distaste. He lingered in his seat, staring at the cold ash in the fireplace.

I will find a way, thought Hannibal, jaw set tight. Will Graham is not dying.

Thank you so much for reading, and have a great day!

-Kassian