Chapter 97 - Relaxation and Preparation

The bright, hot sun that only shone as bright as it did in Leanbox broke through the protection of the curtains, small rays penetrating and landing on the covers of Nico's bed. The male's eyes slowly tightened, his body instinctively waking up when the rays contacted his skin before they slowly opened. A low, irritated groan escaped his lips while his consciousness was robotically roused from it's slumber, just like any other morning. If this were any other day he would have slept a bit longer, but he had plans to do today, plans that involved a hell of a lot of Training. Training in his powers, both his DPU and… his other set.

There would be lot's of work to do in the near future before that… what was it again? Oh yeah, that Gala in 3 months' time. 3 months that he planned to spend refining his Skills, learning to master Soul Edge's true form, mastering his newly acquired DPU powers, the like. Then there was his hidden side, the side that he had since vowed to re-establish contact with. Ironic, huh? The secret he had been hiding so zealously now would be one of the focusing points on his training. It honestly felt both unnerving and a little exciting to finally get that thing some good exercise. Even now, he could feel the inner beast within whining in excitement at the thought of getting used for such an extended time frame.

Whelp, time to get up, then.

His light blue orbs, dreary at first thanks to just waking up, slowly cleared till his vision was at it's optimal. He raised an arm and rubbed his eyes to get rid of any excess sleep, his fatigue soon giving way to his desire to get out of bed and start the day…

'Huh?'

Though, the teen noticed something was off… rather, multiple somethings:

A foreign weight on his chest.

A large mass of brown in half his vision

A low breathing sound that seemed closer to him than he would have liked.

All of these little observations served to completely confuse the hell out of him for a moment, his mind coursing with questions that could all be attributed to 'what the fuck was going on?' as he looked down to the source of his confusion. The moment he did though, his form tensed as he soon lost all skin colour.

'Holy… shit… what the fuck is going on here?!'

When he first caught sight of an IF in PJ's lying next to him, luckily still sleeping and not nearly as naked as he had feared, Nico nearly flipped his lid in shock and fear. His danger senses went into overdrive, the many brain cells in his head going 'mayday, mayday! Alert! Code Black!' in chaotic panic. It was almost as bad as when he once found himself accidentally stumbling across a Nest filled with Abnormals called Tigrexes… Tigrexes that had been mating.

THAT had been an eye opener, for sure… and a source of aches from running so fast for days on end.

Those Tigrexes sure had a lot of energy when mad.

Still, that wasn't the issue here, those Tigrexes would have nothing on a furious IF who had been empowered with the perks of a BOW. IF wasn't the kind of girl who'd get herself into these situations, nor would she willingly sneak into a guy's bed like this. That seemed more like Neptune and Compa's schtick, considering their behaviour around him. If it were one of those two or even both of them, then he wouldn't have been so stunned, but this was IF, so it was a whole new ball game. If she woke up and saw them like this, she'd probably try to castrate him with her claws, manipulating their genetic so they could be as blunt as possible, so they could inflict the most pain.

While his regeneration would take care of that issue, it still had the principle to consider.

Guys preferred their manhoods where they were, thank you very much!

Then, the memories kicked in, and he returned to full composure. A low exhale escaped his lips That was right, he recalled the night that happened earlier, how IF had came into his room, they talked and it was decided that she would stay the night. Then, his blush increased when he remembered what she did to him after he spoke so passionately to her, telling her the honest to Goddess truth about how he viewed her. Seriously, how could she not think she was beautiful? Nico would never get that, nope not one bit. Maybe it was because of him being a monster, but he tended to see beauty in places where it normally would be ignored.

Or maybe it was just his soft spot for women. Nico knew he tended to treat girls with more fondness than he would guys, especially if he didn't know them. Maybe that had been a side effect of dealing with so many criminals in his lifetime, a large portion of them being guys. Guys tended to have a bigger chance to commit crimes due to their genetics, what he meant by that was that they had this 'warrior gene' in them that made them significantly more violent and territorial. A scientifically proven fact, that had been. It was practically hardwired into their DNA, something Nico believed thanks to his own actions against them. They were violent, bloody and extreme to the civilian eye. Heck, if he was wanting to talk about the side effects of his criminal lifestyle, then maybe his violent remarks would be another one. He remembered how much he would be willing to tear people apart over (though his mind refused to comprehend this next bit) trivial matters.

Nevertheless, he had to get back to the issue at hand, how to get out of this situation he was in with IF without her waking up. Perhaps he could Warp his way out of this, get as far away from here as possible so he had a practical head start on her when she started hunting him down. The male soon shook his head, denouncing that notion, no that was too risky he hadn't done enough training on that ability yet where he could use it and CONTROL where he would end up. Back when he was training with Biko, his Warping usually ended up with him in the middle of some weird looking creatures… ether sleeping or mating.

Mating… within his soul…

What.

The.

FUCK?!

Of course, he had gotten the fuck out of there as fast as he could and demanded explanations from Biko about what he just saw. After all, everything in here was a representation of him in some way, so something as irregular as creatures… doing THAT kind of nastiness within him left Nico with more than a few questions, as well as disturbed him on a deep emotional level. Who the hell would want to see something like THAT within their soul? Not him, that's for sure. It was disturbing and creepy on SO many levels.

Biko held no hesitations when he answered those questions. Turns out, thanks to his exposure to situations with the girls, what with all the advances they made on him (though Nico refused to believe them as advances), his make instincts were reawakening from slumber, slowly trying to integrate back into his system which was something his mind tried to prevent. Because of a matter that had happened during his lost memories, a powerful trauma had been detected, a trauma placed on his mind that forced those instincts into a state of intense slumber.

This trauma held great power over his actions, and he didn't even realise it until Biko informed him. This trauma made him refuse to acknowledge any sense of romantic intent being thrust upon him by others, imprinting this thought process so deep into his brain that Nico wouldn't have known it was there had someone not told him of it. It also seemed to be the source of his psychological repression, attributing that kind of action against him as a big fat no-no.

Thanks to the girls though, they were slowly reawakening, stimulated by their advances on him. Neptune, Lucy and now IF were the primary causes of this thanks to their considerable aggressive nature, though Biko had been diverting demonic power to the task of suppressing them. He had known this would be a problem for them, especially considering his current mindset, hence his actions. Though, it seemed that IF had unintentionally gave those instincts a boost with that moment she gave him. That had sent Nico into near-hysteria, his skin paling worse than a Vampire in the night as horrible scenes appeared in his head, scenes of him losing control of those instincts. Hopefully, he can get them back to slumber before they got problematic.

A brief shudder went down his spine. His head was NOT something one would want to get lost in.

That shudder seemed to have been a catalyst, since IF pulled him back down into the bedsheets and wrapping her arms around him, snuggling deep into his chest with her head under his neck.

Desperately, Nico tried to think of something else while trying not to wake her. Unbeknownst to him, his arms had also wrapped around her like they had a will of their own. Another solution could be to just pry IF off him with one of his many weapons used as a crowbar or something. That would allow him to escape the area, but the problem was that thanks to her BOW strength, it would be a major problem for him to do so without waking her. The strength she had when she was sleeping almost seemed greater than when she was awake, if that was even possible. Then, there was how their legs were entangled together like one big mass of limbs, limiting his ability to find a suitable position to get the leverage needed to perform such a task. Thus, this option didn't have much to offer either.

'Biko, you got any ideas?!' he shouted in his mind, hopefully his Demon Persona had some Ideas as to how the hell he could get out of this. He usually had an idea for various situations that he had gotten himself into, so this should be no different, right?

'Considering your situation, I am afraid your best solution would be to Warp out of there and risk ending up across the city. With the way your companion has gripped you, escape through the normal means would be impossible. Fortunately, you can check if she is awake afterwards by using your negative ability sensing, as with your regaining of your powers you should be able to control that ability better.'

At first, Nico looked down in despair and acceptance of is fate, but when Biko mentioned that ability he'd used to track down where IF had ben taken to, his eyes widened in realisation. 'Oh yeah I almost forgot about that ability. Pretty sure I kept it off when I reached the Hellverse Dungeon, since I would have been overwhelmed with how much malice there would have been.'

'Yes, you likely would have. However, your absorption of Demonic power has done wonders for your body, not just stabilizing your powers, but also developed them, like seeds being given fertilizer to become trees faster. The amount your body took in, if you want a comparison, is like a vacuum sucking up an entire lake's worth of water. There is much training we need to do, and not nearly enough that I had before. I would say though, that you are in a much better position than you were before you activated Berserker Mode.'

He recalled that mode with a wince, remembering what had happened to trigger it and the aftermath. Nico couldn't keep doing that, he had a tendency to worry his comrades whenever he overexerted himself and fell unconscious because of it. Yet, every time he thought this, Nico would be bombarded with memories of when, in intense situations, he would just throw caution to the winds anyways. Why was that? Why was it that had this recklessness anyways?

'Yeah, I guess you're right, but still it won't mean anything if we don't escape this…'

'Yes, about that…'

The way Biko said that, trailing off at the end as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to, did not fill Nico with any confidence whatsoever. In fact, it felt more like a pool of dread piling inside his stomach. Before he could ask him what the hell…

"Looks like you're awake, Nico."

SHIT!

Slowly, IF's eyes opened to reveal her green orbs bearing into his own, stunned ones. A slight smirk tugged at her lips as she stared at him in amusement. "Honestly, I was just waiting for you to try and escape, didn't expect you to snuggle with me like this." She remarked, playfully.

Huh? What did she mean? That was the sole thought that passed through Nico's shocked but confused mind, before he looked down and noticed how his arms were wrapped tightly yet comfortingly around her body. His eyes widened in shock at the sight. 'What the heck?! When did…?!'

'It appears I will have to double my efforts; this little dilemma seems to have been brought about by your masculine instincts.'

The teens' eyes became saucers. Only a little according to what Biko had told him, and already they were being problematic!

SHIT!

FUCKING GODAMNIT!

'Goddamnit, those freaking instincts will be the death of me someday!'

Despite his furious thoughts, externally he was a mess, trying and failing to form a proper response. Eventually, he managed to get some words out in slow, barely audible sentences. "W-Well, I-I… Uh… I like… hugs… blame my… M-Mom…" he admitted sheepishly, much to his inner frustration. True, he did like hugs, but this felt ridiculous to him. He didn't like this, he didn't like this at all damnit! How did this happen?! More importantly, why the hell would it happen now of all times?! His mind raced in it's panic, barely retaining any sense of cognitive function. This was what he was like after Neptune had done that naked make-out thing after the Berserker Mode incident, but back then he had been alone in his freaking out thanks to the other girls, giving him time to calm down faster. Now though, he wasn't alone, thus had to hide his internal struggle.

All to do with those damn instincts!

Biko! Please suppress them as much as you can!

Just when he made to say something, IF placed a hand on his lips, shushing him as she began to speak instead. "Hey, relax. Nothing's gonna happen, alright? I just wanna stay like this for a while." She told him, before taking the hand away from his lips and allowing her Biomass to gather within it, morphing it's structure with barely audible organic sounds into a clock-like structure. "According to my internal clock, we have about 2 more hours before Nep and Compa stir from their slumber. Compa will likely wake first, considering how Lazy Nep is, so for now, I wanna have this moment to myself." She told him, seriously, wrapping her arm around him and pulling the teen back into her embrace.

Last night had been quite an enlightening experience for her. Like she had said so long ago, she hadn't had much experience in socialising with others thanks to er upbringing as a Mercenary by her father. Thus, she hadn't really noticed when her feelings towards this guy before her began to change from friend to…. Well, this. By the time she did notice, her lack of experience in this field as well as her own insecurities about her chances stopped her from making a move on the guy. Seriously, Neptune had the advantage of being able to transform into a womanlier figure, while Compa had the childhood friend card. Then there was the girls in Team RAIL, and the other two CPUs Noire and Vert (She still couldn't believe Vert actually liked Nico that way).

But last night had changed EVERYTHING…

Now, nothing would be holding her back. She had already kissed him, something that the other girls whom had been holding an interest in Nico had done (though she wasn't so sure about Raven, she seemed to still be in the same boat as she had been back at the Hellverse Dungeon), thus putting them on an even playing field. Hell, she could probably use her BOW powers as a form of full-body shapeshifting to make herself look more appealing if Nico hadn't said all that stuff to her last night. Though, she wasn't so sure how to do that just yet, but once she did? Oh, he would likely be putty in her hand, just like last night.

That feeling… that feeling of utter control… of utter dominance she had over him…

It… was… HEAVENLY!

She wanted more of that feeling, but more importantly, she wanted more of Nico.

Thus, she decided to put herself in this little chase of Neptune, Compa and every girl who wanted his affections. IF the Windwalker of Gamindustri, the first true living BOW, had been armed and was ready for combat.

As Nico's resistance to her decreased with the decreasing tensity she could feel in his muscles, as well as hear with her enhanced hearing, a slight grin tugged at her lips, unseen by him of course. A victorious glint shone in her eyes for just a split second before vanishing, just as she and Nico went back into slumber while snuggling together in each other's embrace.

'Sorry girls, but I'm not losing this lead…'


"Sir, it appears that those girls you told me to keep an eye on have returned to MICROSOFT."

The Head Butler for the fat pudgy man known as Count Mott spoke this as he had been allowed into the Noble's study. Said Noble looked to be currently immersing himself within large stacks of papers, quill in hand as he read one of them intently. His eyes danced with various emotions the Butler couldn't, or rather didn't, identify before they widened at the news that the Butler Gave to him after the traditional bow.

Looking up at the Butler, Count Mott's lips grew into a creepy grin. He had been in a good mood before after having done some 'stress relief' earlier on with some of his maids (damn he loved Maid uniforms, especially the ones that he had designed for his staff, so goddamn tempting just how he liked them). But, now that he had this information his good mood had skyrocketed to divinity level proportions. "Really, you say? Can you inform me of their status?" he asked the Head Butler.

"Sir." The Butler replied, performing the traditional bow with the hand over his heart gesture all Butlers do. "According to our sources, they have arrived back at their hotel. They are resting right now, after having apparently finished a rather extended time period of dungeon crawling."

"Can you specify which Dungeon?"

"Judging from the direction they came from, odds are it is the Hellverse Dungeon."

At this, Count Mott's eyes once again, but this time there was not just happiness, but surprise and elation in them. That Dungeon… he knew of that dungeon, how could he not? After all, it was where one of Leanbox' most historical monarchs once reigned from centuries past, before the CPU Green Heart got involved. He knew how there was apparently a powerful cult there worshipping some of their Gods in their own ways. He knew this, but he deliberately concealed that information from the Leanbox authorities. All for his own purposes of course.

That Dungeon was home to a powerful faction of the Religion of Chaos, a religion that was supposedly a sub-religion belonging to the Overlord faction. Apparently, these Chaos Gods were the generals to Overlord Momus, and would bestow upon mortals various boons depending on their domains and the mortals themselves. They do this and already they have paid more attention to humanity tan their own CPUs.

As the youngsters would say: Get rekt, CPUs.

Nevertheless, they were gaining followers quickly and rapidly, through all the nations. Not only that, but strange men in red armours of varying shapes and sizes, as well as a multitude of different yet monstrous mutations and leading their own band of warriors were constantly being sighted throughout Leanbox, causing much trouble for the inhabitants by burning everything. They would burn villages, raiding them and any isolated settlements they could find. They'd either kill all the inhabitants or do some… other stuff to them that he wasn't sure on.

Not that he cared or anything.

"Sir, what of the news of the Captain's return? Shall that not complicate matters for you?"

News had already reached him about Stefan Von Kessel as well. Mott hummed to himself when he remembered that little titbit of information he got from his 'slaves' in the Spec Ops Community. Apparently, those girls had ran into that man when he was being held by those cultists, Cultists whom had occupied some of his land no less. Nobody knew the truth about that though, he'd manipulated the political field so that they didn't catch on. Of course, there were some who muttered rumours about his possible connection to the Cultists, they were trotting on his land after all. However, some 'silencing' had been done by some skilled hands, and those rumours faded out of existence with time… and money.

Money was a great way to keep people quiet, and with how much Silver Steel was worth these days it would have an even greater value to the world. What people didn't realise though, was that none of his profits had dropped since the Cultists occupied Mojang Village. None at all, and there was a good reason for that.

Stefan Von Kessel's survival meant that he had to tread carefully however, the man may have seen things that he was not meant to. He could have seen things that would make him ask questions, questions that could make him too dangerous for him to be allowed to live. It was a possibility that deeply nagged at his mind every second after he received this information, but Mott was not a man who acted rashly, even if he had a rather large libido to satisfy every day.

That man had power, power in the political world and on the battlefield. As the wielder of Ashbringer, a sword inherently important to the Spec Ops Community, he had strong ties in high places. Not only that, but he was the head of the Von Kessel Family after the passing of his father 10 years ago due to… unfortunate circumstances. That entitled him to additional backing from various powerful officials, including some in the Basilicom whom were significantly tied to the CPU herself, considering they were a large portion of the Leanbox Military. The Ostermark Order had many Abnormal kills, more so than most the other Militaries in the other Nations, which made sense considering Leanbox had the greatest Abnormal presence out of the four. Furthermore, Ashbringer chose him to be its wielder, so if he were to 'disappear' it would become inactive until someone with similar values touched the blade which would hamper their military strength, not something which would be advised considering the times. Lastly, the man was used to the more 'discreet' means of silencing due to other Nobles having tried similar tactics, so he would expect shady business especially right after his return.

Ashbringer still had it's uses, so it and it's wielder would have to stay for the time being.

"Do not worry, Butler. He will be of use to us yet. For now, though, let us focus on this Gala. It will present a rather interesting and valuable opportunity for us and our 'associates' to further our own goals." Mott told him. He had plans, counter measures, set up in place something like this would happen. He was a man who lusted, true, but Mott was not a Noble who owned a large portion of land for Nothing. He had worked to earn this position, manipulating, scheming and killing all who had stood in his path to conquest. Wars were fought in every aspect of life, a fact that he had learned long ago as a child. War was the blood of humanity, the sea they swam in and the very air they breathed ever second of their worthless lives.

He was a manipulator, his Servants and slaves were his pawns, but none of that mattered. a all he cared about was attaining power beyond imagining. That was all that drove him, nothing else mattered. When he dominated and forcefully subdued the many women he had, he held power over their minds, bodies and very souls. He held power over their beings, forced them to serve under him and carry out his whims.

His thoughts got interrupted when the Butler asked another question, one that was also as important to his plans. "But what of those associates? Forgive me for asking, but they do not seem like they would be trustworthy." He asked him, his eyes briefly flashing with uncertainty as he glanced about, anywhere but his charge. Count Mott did not like it when one asked too many questions, he knew that from being under him for so many years.

Fortunately, the Head Butler would count as one of the few people whom Mott would count as trustworthy enough to ask such questions and not get decapitated or thrown into the Dungeons to be executed at a later date. "This is called a Gamble, Butler. But you do not have to worry, I have means, of which I will be sending to that brat soon enough to test them, that will assure us our position in the future."

"Of course, sir."

"Good, now leave me. I must plan what I will be doing next. I will call for you when I am ready."


After leaving the study, the Head Butler closed the door silently behind him, turning on his polished shoes and making his way down the large corridor. The Corridor itself had this strong, yet intimidating vibe with all these golden knight-like statures aligning the corridor walls, each one holding a varied assortment of weapons that looked too realistic to be just ornaments. Yet, the Head Butler calmly strode through them

Along the way, The Butler noticed several figures in the distance, his hands behind his back while he had his monocles shadowing his eyes. He quickly recognised them however, so he didn't attack them for being intruders in his master's household as he would have had to if it were otherwise. The Butler saw that, as they, approached, they were actually some of the Maids for the household carrying several items in their arms. The man remained collected and professional passed by several of those maids, women of Leanbox descent whom served the Count with almost fanatical loyalty through 'persuasion' by the master of this manor. Both maids wore the same uniform as each other, the standard one which Mott had personally designed and enforced for his female servants.

This particular maid uniform consisted of a Gothic Lolita style, with a white apron over the front like normal maids. But then, the man's fantasies began to show themselves in the uniform, like the cracks behind a Mask. The plaited skirt reached about thigh level, showing black garters and nylon stockings with very high heels. The skirt's length was made so that when the maid bent over, her underwear would be visible clearly from beneath the skirt, a feature that Mott intended so that he could have access to it ay any time he so desired. Not only that, but there were cosmetic looking black succubus wings and horns that came with the uniform, giving the maids a sultry, seductive look to them.

The two Maids walked past him, politely greeting the elderly Butler whom responded with a polite smile and nod, before continuing on his way. Their heels clicking across the ground filled his ears until they were too far to be audible anymore, and nothing but silence reigned supreme in the corridor. A corridor that the man stopped at when he passed the maids by. The man did nothing for that moment, not move, not speak, not even breathe, it was almost like he was a statue or a machine awaiting orders from his master.

Everyone has a Mask they wear in front of others, each for their own reasons. They could wear one to fit into society, not wanting to look weak in front of their peers. For example, a child could put up a Mask to hide the peer pressure he or she was feeling at school, going along with whatever their peers said so they didn't get outcasted or scorned by them. Social suicide could be a deadly threat to a person's life after all, just look at cyberbullying. They could wear masks to disguise ugly emotions buried deep inside them, emotions that they didn't or couldn't normally express in front of others for a variety of different reasons. One could hide their jealousy that another was attaining happiness while they could not, or perhaps one hid their rage and resentment for the hand they were dealt when they were born like a lot of Leanbox Commoners did.

This had very few exceptions… and this Butler was NOT one of those exceptions.

Yet his Mask had signs of being built for an extended time frame, as there was only one sign, one little crack, that allowed another to see through his Mask if there were anyone around. The fact that he was on his own made the old butler's Mask slip ever so slightly, so slightly that it was barely noticeable. That sign? The faint clenching of his right hand. His expression remained the same, but behind those eyes there lay a fierce fire, a fire that could only be born out of something that had been festering in him for quite some time. That fire faded away the next millisecond though, and his hand unclenched back into it's previous state.

'Calm down Brian, it is not time yet…'

The Butler, now named Brian according to his mental monologue, thought to himself as he walked down the corridor once more to resume his Butler duties. Hopefully, for his sake, the time would come soon…


Yvoire hummed to himself as he sat in his bedroom, looking down at a large stack of his paperwork. He'd brought it from his office to view in privacy, considering the issues that it highlighted. These issues? The recent attacks by unknown men in red armour.

Yvoire's room looked like one of those rooms one would see in those five-star hotels, styled just like the culture that Leanbox thrived under. A king-sized bed with light green cover, a velvety coloured stand, a wall set with green and white highlights, the works. His room had been stylised to support the CPU of Leanbox, as it should be considering his position.

But back to the issue at hand here…

'This… could end up being a major problem…' Yvoire thought, staring worriedly at the documents. These reports trouble him greatly, hundreds of Leanbox citizens were either vanishing or reportedly killed when these men in red appeared from practically nowhere and began razing their settlements to the ground, leaving nothing but charred ruins in their wakes. There were some however, whom even defiled the holy statues of their CPU by impaling them with these flags made out of tattered flesh and this strange symbol, but none of that abated his rage at these heretics for those actions. They dared to defile his CPU like that, so they must be punished without mercy. That was his opinion on the matter.

Unfortunately, things were not so simple, but then again in politics they never were.

Not only did he have to prepare for the Gala, which could not have come at a more complicated time if it tried, but he had to deal with the politics between the various Nobles Thanks to recent events, they were getting more and more rowdy, the ability to control them with mere words diminishing by the day. Though, he could hardly blame them, some their assets were being mindlessly shredded to pieces by these men in red. He'd seen the pictures of them that a few survivors had managed to take when they returned to the Capital, only to die of serious wounds later, and he had to stop himself from screaming in pure terror. They looked like abominations! Mad perversions of life, worse than the undead that one Witch from many centuries ago created.

He supposed the Gala would be a good way to get them to vent their stress to each other and calm down from all that had been happening. In his time organizing the military, Yvoire had learned that it was important to remain calm in an intense situation, otherwise it would wind up overcoming him and becoming a massive mess later on. Something that seemed to be happening more and more often as of late, what with the business he was engaging in with Conversation at the moment.

Speaking of Conversation…

Turning his head to the side of him, Yvoire's eyes laid upon te vial of poison that sat upon his Desk, silent but deadly. He knew this thanks t th mixture constantly bubbling like there was no tomorrow. It had been that way ever since he got it, like there was an unlimited supply of heat racing through it to cause it to constantly be on the boil/ Like the rage of not being used was empowering it. Yvoire had no clue why, but he did NOT like that vial, not one bit. Normally, he didn't like any kind of poison, who did? But, this thing? It made him want to hide in te darkest corner of the world and pray for his soul. Even that felt like an understatement for how much Yvoire HATED that vial.

Even more irritating was that he had failed to get in contact with the woman after all this time, his various sources telling him that they hadn't seen someone fitting her description leaving the Sky Harbour. That told him that she had not yet left Leanbox, at the least, but aside from that he knew very little about her current whereabouts. It was like she had completely vanished off the face of the earth. With how she knew about this vial, making it out of ingredients that he could not find no matter which encyclopaedia he looked up, baffled the man. It was like he was taking shots in the dark, and Yvoire didn't like taking shots in the dark. Especially in these trying times, when there would be cries of 'BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD' or 'SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE' echoing through the battle reports he'd received every day.

But, like always, the head Priest for Green Heart's Basilicom tore apart his emotions, keeping them restrained and controlled before looking back to the documents that he was viewing before. His eyes looked old, weary and tired, yet held a strength in them that betrayed the youth still remaining inside of him. Even at his age, Yvoire's resolve to the CPU had never dimmed. It made him feel like it was his sworn duty as Leanbox's head of Military to sort out this mess, so his CPU didn't have to worry. She DID have other issues to attend to, that he was sure of.

His eyes hardened after the man gave a weary sigh, his form tensing as he began making plans and calculations within his mind. His intentions for Nico could wait until the Gala in 3 months, he may not like the heretical abomination, however if there was one thing he cared for more it was protecting Leanbox against immediate threats. The brat was only secondary to this Chaos Religion and these Warbands. Was this what it felt like back then, 500 years ago when Abnormals first appeared? Was this what those Spec Ops Agents felt before they did their deeds? The thoughts of impending doom looming over their heads like a cloak of death, draping over their shoulders and infusing the possibility of certain demise at the enemy's hands.

No, he would not let that happen.

Not even his own prejudices would keep him from protecting Leanbox from her enemies, if he had to use the Spec Ops program to gain back the ground they had lost against these powerful new enemies, then so be it. Right now, they weren't nearly as important in keeping Leanbox safe, so Yvoire would push those prejudice's aside. As much as he hated to admit it, those Spec Ops Agents did good work, they WERE a great defence for Leanbox after all. Their fame was not underserved. Not just that, but they might have a chance against these men in red.

These men in red seemed to be too powerful for regular soldiers to handle, according to these casualty reports. He would have to risk earning the ire of the other Noble Families across the Land thanks to their own prejudices against the program, however it seemed that they could no longer rely on their own technology anymore, not with these new enemies threatening all that they held dear. They would have to start researching new weapons, better armour for their troops, as well as train them to become better warriors than they really were. Not even the sons of nobles whom had gotten into the military through recommendation would be spared, that was just how great this new threat really was.

A low groan escaped the man's lips, a groan betraying the amount of frustration he felt at these complicated events. Where had the peace they had before gone? Ever since he began consorting with that Conversation woman, things had quickly spiralled into a complex web of events, decision and carefully required planning so that Leanbox remained as strong as it currently did. Yet, with everything going on, Yvoire couldn't help but wonder if this all would have happened regardless if he had consorted with her or not, something he tried not to think about.

Glancing to the wall beside the entrance to his room, the man saw that it was nearly time for a business meeting to start, and after that he would be doing his usual head priest Duties like receiving Guests. The man hummed to himself, before putting the papers down. He could use the distraction for now, then when everything was done he could go back to making plans to fight off this new enemy. Only then would Leanbox rest easy, and perhaps he could get rid of that Abomination along the way? Food for thought, the man mused as he opened his bedroom door and left to go about his day.