Author's note: Hello my dears, thank you to everyone still reading, back at it again.
Also, I am sorry for all the Ignes, I still need her to do a couple of things in the coming chapters to shuffle the cards x3

Juraki III – Werewolf Island, 7th November, 12:00

These days, each conversation with his fellow warriors left a bitter taste in Juraki's mouth. While some of the warriors still mourned for their fallen comrades, other had bounced back already, and considered what this meant for them, personally.

"It's obvious. Lunark, Kentas, Uzhir – they were important. And now they need to be replaced," Gayare continued, all fire and flame for the idea of rising above his current position now that the top ranks have been thinned out a little. Everyone knew that Lunark was the Lord's favourite, his protege, his student. His likely successor. Juraki would be a liar if he claimed he was not curious to see who the Lord would choose as his next student. Still, all personal ambitions aside, it felt wrong to just think about themselves when their comrades have been buried only a few days ago.

Mirai must feel the same way – he watched her get up and leave and, following an impulse he did not quite understand, he followed. Ever since her sister died, she had changed. Her smile was hollow and did not reach her eyes – her easy-going, positive attitude was gone. Juraki missed having someone around who would always cheer up the situation – these days, even Gotaru and Dorant were unusually quiet. They have watched most of their unit getting wiped out, from what he'd heard. How could they see their comrades die and still be the same?

When he found the green-haired warrior slumped down against an old oak tree, he stopped. "Mirai?" It would be rude to approach her even further without permission – not when she was clearly upset.
She rubbed over her face with the back of her hand. "I don't feel like talking."
"Would you like for me to leave?"
"... no." Mirai shifted over and Juraki followed up on the quiet invitation and sat next to her, back leaning against the old trunk of the tree. How long since the last time he had sat like that with someone? It felt... peaceful. From far away, the wind carried the voices of their comrades, discussing the current situation. He could not make out actual words.

"... I don't understand how the Lord could just let them go," Mirai said after some minutes passed in silence. Juraki didn't know himself whether he approved of it or not.
"The promise of a warrior is sacred. Even more so when it is the promise of a Lord," he said after some thought. Maybe... maybe the nobles did not even have a choice. If their Lord chose to invade Lukedonia, would they not follow his orders as well, regardless of their personal feelings? Juraki knew he could not voice these thoughts aloud, no one would understand.

Anyone who still doubts our ways is an enemy. Was compassion for the enemy a crime in itself as well? It certainly seemed so. And so, he decided to keep his opinion to himself.

"I miss her," Mirai whispered, and her voice almost broke. Angrily, she wiped at her eyes, but could not stop the tears. She might be a warrior – but she was also a person who just lost someone who'd been with her her whole life. Mirai and Urne have been two parts of one whole. Now...

Awkwardly, Juraki shuffled closer and placed an arm around her shoulder. To his surprise, his gesture was not rejected, and Mirai shifted to bury her face against his chest. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his cloak and shirt and he could do nothing but hold her.

Maybe this was something they all had lacked in the past decades and centuries. Compassion and company. He would help his comrades in any way he could, be it as a warrior... or as a friend.

M-21 III – Werewolf Island, 8th November, 10:15

When they had been sentenced to experimentation, M-21 feared that the torment would continue immediately – but for what felt like two eternities, nothing happened. Once, a warrior came with water and something one might consider 'food'. They needed their test subjects alive, after all. Why was no one coming for them? Lunark was silent and that worked for him, too. He wouldn't know what to talk about, anyway.

When steps approached, once more, he assumed it would just be another guard making his rounds, at this point. A soft sing-sang voice tore him out of his lethargy. "Rise and shine, you two." Ignes had come down herself. Hatefully, M-21 glared at her. Whatever happened, they were back to zero, obviously. The noble rolled up the sleeves of her grey sweater as she turned to Lunark.

"You know, I was really looking forward to learn more about your body. I heard it's absolutely amazing... too bad the Lord wants me to do nothing to you for now... So..." She turned to him, now, and her eyebrow twitched briefly. "I see no one deemed it necessary to keep you tied up. Are you going to behave, or do I have to be mean to you again?"
He still only glared. He would not give in that easily. With a sigh, Ignes pinched the bridge of her nose. "How about you play nice and just answer whatever questions I have? And then I will be nice to you too."

M-21 rolled his eyes with a snort. He might be in a hopeless situation... but he has been in such a situation often enough before. He would not cower before someone just because they told him to. A smirk. "Make me."

He didn't expect Ignes to actually open the cell and greet him with a fist to his face. The impact of her punch made him stagger back against the wall of the small cell they kept him in. Quickly, she caught up with him, and, holding his head down by the hair, she slammed her knee into his rib. M-21 sputtered as the bone broke with an ugly cracking sound.

"In case you could not tell... I am in a bad mood."
And he was, once more, the punching bag of someone who saw him as little more than an object. M-21 took a rattling breath that ached in his battered ribcage.
"Boo-hoo, we all feel so sorry for you," he managed to spit out and Ignes yanked his head back by the hair, her other fist ready for another punch -

"Ignes! Wait!" Lunark's voice actually stopped her, and briefly, Ignes lowered her arm and glanced back over her shoulder. Was... was she going to try and take the heat instead? Did Lunark think he was not used to this sort of treatment at this point?

"Ignes... listen.. you don't have to do this," Lunark continued and, with a confused blink, Ignes' arm dropped back. She still held M-21 by the hair.
"Oh, but I want to." Ignes chuckled to herself and turned around, dragging M-21 along. He hated to be seen like that. "You still want to protect your friend here? You should rather worry about yourself, you know..."
"I mean it. Help us get out of here. Whatever Maduke is giving you, the noble Lord surely can give you a fairer deal -"
M-21 shuddered when he heard Lunark talking. Was she really trying to... negotiate? With Ignes, out of all people? Ignes laughed, though she bristled, clearly.
"The Noble Lord? A prisoner can't give me anything... Oh. Your surprised face tells me you didn't know. Yes. The Lord of the Nobles is a prisoner here. She surrendered in a duel."
No way. There was no way Raskreia surrendered?
"In fact, you might care to hear that Muzaka and Frankenstein are dead too."
"No way!" M-21 buckled against her grip and she almost let go of him. Frankenstein could not possibly have been defeated. What on earth had happened here?1 Muzaka, Frankenstein, the noble Lord – He froze. "And Rai- "
"The Noblesse? Most curious man. He was here for you, it seemed."
No. No. Had Raizel really come here, into this hell, just to get him? He felt nauseous. He felt sick, all blood drained from his face. "Now, now. He is still alive. Probably."
"No. This is not true!", Lunark exclaimed, and her voice was of a higher pitch than usually. M-21 slacked down when Ignes released her grip on his hair.

"This is true." Something had shifted in Ignes' voice, she sounded somber, and all malicious joy was gone from her. "This is the new reality you should get used to it: Maduke won. No one is going to save you." Her voice cracked. "No one is going to save anyone."

Over her voice and his shock, he had not perceived the sound of footsteps coming along the hallway of prison cells. "Well, good thing no one here requires rescue, then," the Lord said, almost cheerfully so. He was carrying something, covered by a linen sack. He stopped and glanced at Ignes before turning to Lunark.

"Even though I always knew that your eventual betrayal would be inevitable..." He stopped. "You served me well. You deserve a parting gift for the centuries of good service you have provided me with." He unlocked the cell, holding the key with one hand, while holding the linen sack with the other hand. He set it down on the small table. Lunark looked away, her breath quickened.

"Lunark. I want you to look." The Lord's voice was cold, and, reluctantly, Lunark turned her head and M-21 could see she was steeling herself for whatever the Lord had to show her. He could not see, Maduke's broad back covered his sight of the mystery object. With a grand, sweeping gesture, the werewolf Lord pulled away the linen sack.

Lunark's face tensed, slowly derailing into a grimace of a horror he had not seen before. Her lip quivered, her eyelid twitched – and for a few seconds, he could not tell whether she was going to cry, scream or break down entirely. A deep, primal growl rumbled through her chest. She threw herself at the Lord, half-transformed with claws at the ready and unadulterated hatred in her eyes.
"You MONSTER!" He took one step back, and the chains that kept Lunark tied down almost broke by the impact of her pulling with full force against them. The Lord chuckled. "You were good friends, weren't you?" Maduke left the cell and M-21 could see it clearly, now, and he almost gagged.

A jar filled with an unknown liquid – and a severed head. He did not need to see the face to know that this was Kentas.

"He will keep you company for a while. Don't worry. In this fluid, he will be well preserved. And when he is no longer recognizable... your punishment will begin."

Lunark broke down in sobs as he closed the cell door. M-21 could not move. This... this was a cruelty he had not imagined before, not even with the Union. Ignes still stood next to him, unmoving, and the Lord turned his attention to her.

"I want you to go see Dr. Reuwen. Then, come and see me. You have an hour."
"One hour?! But I wanted to -"
"No one cares what you want," Maduke cut in sharply and Ignes winced back. He turned away and glanced at Lunark again. "I will see you in an hour, then."

He left the three of them, and Lunark's desperate crying over her best friend was the only thing M-21 was aware of. When Ignes left his cell without any further words, he found himself cracking as well.

So all hope was lost.

Third Elder II – Berlin, 8th November, 22:30

"Do you think we should go and get food?"
An innocent question the First Elder asked on the regular. At this time of the day, when he asked about going out to get food... They usually did not return before dawn and the Third Elder was not sure whether he wanted to deal with that at the moment. Maybe french fries from the Turkish takeaway around the street corner. That would do, and he would be a liar if he claimed he did not fancy something too. Was he stress-eating again? Maybe. How could he not feel stressed, though? Within a couple of months, they had lost nine elders. Two of the remaining Elders were likely to make moves against them soon enough.

The blond man next to him shifted and propped himself up on his elbow. "You're worried about the Union, aren't you?"
Ah. Right. He'd forgot to answer the food question. "... isn't it obvious?"
First sighed and sank back down into the soft pillows. "You know, I really hate that the nobles decided to attack the Second Elder right when we're getting to spend some time together. Couldn't they have waited for a week?"

Of course, this was no personal attack, but... it sure did feel like a cruel twist of fate. In a few days, they'd need to part ways again, each going about their own business. How much time did they have left before Crombel or Maduke would make a move? Both of them were dangerous, though, given Crombel's secrecy... It was hard to gauge just how dangerous he was.

"I have been thinking about this for the past few days, actually," Third started and sat up. They were not going to sleep anytime soon anyway, and might as well go and get food. "... I know that on the long term, we want it to be nothing but humans... but the nobles have always been reasonable people. I think they are going to be in trouble on their own."

First remained in the bed and watched him. Accusation was in his eyes, as though Third just had voiced something highly treacherous. He liked to think he was just being pragmatic. The nobles have been pushed back when trying to invade the territory of the Second Elder – and with their poor diplomatic relationships to Lukedonia and Maduke's secrecy in all matters regarding his people, they had no true way to have an exact idea of what state the two factions were in at this point.
"Don't look at me like that," Third said after some moments of uncomfortable silence. The Nobles... were still the lesser evil. Though they were unhuman creatures that no longer belonged in this world, they never have been the monstrosities the werewolves proved to be. Was it not preferable to support the nobles, their best bet at thinning out the enemy lines?

"No." First shook his head firmly. "We will let them sort it out between themselves. With how many elders we lost, Lukedonia should be perfectly capable of either fighting back the werewolves, or at least cause some serious damage before going down in flames."

Third got up and reached for the grey dressing gown he'd left hanging over the back of a chair. Hopefully his gamble would be right.

First chuckled to himself as he got up as well. "You know, I really wish we could go there and watch the Lords fight each other. That must be quite a sight, the last time there are two Lords. And when I am done with the winner of that duel... I will be the King."

Coming up next week: Rai has some visitors, Raskreia faces a difficult request and Frankenstein examines the situation.