The Philosophers got to work attempting to teach their new associates the basics of combat, but knew that they didn't have enough time to get them properly trained. They honestly did not expect them to last that long on the battlefield, but they would boost their numbers long enough to make some headway, at least. They won the favour of their new troops simply by allowing them to wear whatever costume they wanted into battle and were shocked at how gung-ho they were being. It somewhat startled the Philosophers, but since it suited their needs, they were quickly moving on to other phases of their plans.
After the supernatural city of Gehenna had fallen, the Philosophers were merry at their first real victory, but there was a certain degree of caution when dealing with the townspeople. They were strangely friendly with them, obviously trying to keep them in line with honey instead of vinegar, but they were firm with those who voiced their anger at the take over. Understandably, people were upset at losing loved ones and the safety that their city had provided previously. They were also angry at having to share food and shelter with them. Some soldiers had commandeered homes with families living in them and forced the residents to take care of them. Some citizens were beaten on the spot for complaining. How hard and with what was at the discretion of the soldier. If they were particularly unlucky, they were simply killed.
But brute force was not the only method of control. They had quickly commandeered the publishers and the newspaper, forcing them to write articles about the triumph of Abhartach's forces and how well their king was going to treat them as subjects. The writers at the newspaper were forced to pretend that they were enthusiastic in their articles, insisting against their will that things were going to be better than before.
The worst was the food situation, however. Since HELLSING was no longer able to get in, blood deliveries had stopped. That meant that vampires needed to ration their reserves or squabble amongst themselves for food that was in limited supply. Everyone knew that things would get bad once it all ran out and prayed to be saved before they had to endure the inevitable. Knowing this, however, Abhartach gave an order to Feargus. They would reward vampires who cooperated with blood from the reserves they had already captured. If that meant that they ratted out those who resisted, it was all the better.
The image of the sunflower was scarce, but members of Girasol blended in with the crowd. If they were recognised, they had to rely on the goodness of their neighbours' hearts not to be ratted out. Even if they were, they needed to avoid possessing proof that they were opposed to his majesty. All the while, however, these coven members were feeding information back to their leader.
"We have enough down here to ration for a while, but it only stays good for forty-eight days." Kyung-Soon said into the radio. "We need out before then, or things are going to be bad. Real bad. There's non-vampires down here and even if there weren't, it would get bad."
"Dammit..." Jim groaned on the other end of the line. "I'll try and think of something, but no matter what the idea is, it's not gonna be safe."
"Try us." the head of the coven said. "We need to get a jump on it before it becomes a problem."
"I agree. We're on it." Jotting it down on a piece of paper, Alois clicked his pen before handing it off to a HELLSING agent to be taken care of. There were seasoned soldiers throughout the base, so there was bound to be someone who knew how to handle this situation. "As for the enemy, what's going on with them? Who's in charge? What's their security like? Is there any internal conflict we can exploit? How are they staying in contact with their base?"
"I don't know about must of that stuff yet, but It's some guy named 'Feargus.' He's a werewolf who can change whenever he wants, even though he doesn't look old enough to be able to do that… He's always got a couple guards, but nothing heavy, unless you count for the fact that they're werewolves. Getting a jump on them might be hard..."
"Sniper fire might be an option." Alois pondered aloud before adding: "Don't try anything without us going over it together, first, though. You're probably the biggest chance of saving the place we've got."
"And what about you? Where are you at?"
"I don't want to barge in and freak them out right now. It might cause them to hurt civilians, and that's the absolute last thing I want. Look, I have a source, so we're going to ask them for more information about Feargus, before we do anything." Looking up at his spouse, he pointed at the bluenette before signaling for him to go do that.
Pausing, Kyung-Soon had to think. She wanted to go in and get this over with, but Alois had a point. This was a hard call. It had only been a short while since she took over as leader, and the decisions were already impossible. As much as she hated to, she couldn't help but try to think of what Baldassare would do if it were him in her place.
"I want to trust you..." she began, "But people are terrified. They're already getting kicked out of their homes so that the soldiers can sleep there! If it wasn't for Sister Dorothy, they would be in the streets, but they're watching her like a hawk."
"I'm sorry… There isn't much we can do right this second. We're at a stalemate… There is one thing you can do, though: Find out how they're communicating with the outside. If we can take that out, we can strand them. From there, if we take out their leader, they won't be able to organise. That is the plan thus far. I will let you know of any updates."
The other Phantomhive, on the other hand, was already making his way down the halls of the base. He walked briskly with his head held high as he made his way down to where the prisoners were being kept. Both of the Faelad's were tired, as they both were called back for even more vigorous interrogation immediately after the invasion was phoned in. Tiredly, Farroel sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, unable to sleep as he couldn't stop worrying about what was to happen to him, as it appeared that Philip's plan failed. He peered through his fingers as he heard the door to his cell open and the sound of Ciel's footsteps as he stepped inside with him. Without saying anything at first, the Watchdog grabbed the only chair in the room and sat down in it, crossing one leg over the other while facing the wolfman.
"What do you want?" Farroel asked. "I don't know why the date was wrong, okay? I honestly don't know..."
"My partner believes you, so I'm cautiously inclined to do so as well, rest assured. That isn't what I'm here for, however." Ciel explained. "I'm here about your father, Feargus… He's leading the invasion of Gehenna, you see."
"Oh, I get it." the other man nodded along. "I can't think of any dirt on him off the top of my head, if that's what you want. I don't know if he has any weaknesses, either… He always looked so strong..."
"Perhaps you're thinking about it the wrong way?" suggested the Phantomhive with his hands folded neatly together as he rested them in his lap. "People have all sorts of weaknesses, but chances are, not all of them are physical. What is something that he has a soft spot for?"
"Uh… I don't know…" the other man said sadly. "I don't think he really has a soft spot for anything… He's only weak around his majes- I mean, around Abhartach. He has to protect his status with him."
"Interesting." While Ciel did not sound very genuine in his remark, in reality, he knew that could be something of significance. Like many nobles, or people who wished to be nobles, status was important. It was all they had. If they could find away to attack that, Feargus might be weakened, if not taken down completely.
"What about the faoladh?" the bluenette continued. If reputation was the nature of the game, Feargus also needed to stay in the good graces of his people, if he was smart. "What are some issues that your people are concerned by? If we can appeal to them, perhaps negotiation may be an option."
"I doubt it. Abhartach wants victory or death." replied the wolfman. "The faoladh only really like the idea of him being king because he says that he will be able to help our species flourish once he is in power."
"'Flourish' how?"
"Our numbers… aren't what they used to be. We used to be a proud race that was respected. Kings would hire us to do battle for them due to our strength and we were regarded as protectors of children. Now, we're hunted and killed by Catholics in our homeland and here, we still can't make up the numbers fast enough."
"Can you not just bite unsuspecting humans during the full moon?"
"Not to create more faoladh, no. If we bite, it makes an ordinary werewolf. That's why we have to copulate with humans, not bite them. Faoladh can only be born. It's hard to find humans to pair with, however… The whole 'werewolf' thing is a bit off-putting, you see… And, with half of our population unable to reproduce, the chances are even lower. Over the past few decades, we've grown more afraid of going extinct."
"So in other words, reproduction is the heart of the issue, so you wish for a world where humans and supernaturals can be easily mixed to remedy it?"
"Yes. That is the idea. I'm not sure how feasible it is, though. It would still take time for the humans to accept us, so it would be decades still until everything came into fruition. Even then, it's entirely likely that we'll get wiped out on the way there. On the other hand, father tries to send the women into battle, since they're the ones who can't have children. It's awful to say, but hopefully, that doesn't hurt us too badly.
Ciel thought for a moment, needing to recover from that last sentence, but also to ponder a way out of this situation. "The reason female werewolves can't reproduce is… stop me if I'm wrong… It's because the monthly transformations harm the baby and causes them to miscarry, yes?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make sense." Ciel bluntly stated. "That is a massive evolutionary design flaw for a species that cannot reproduce via bite. It works for regular werewolves, but there is no way that the faoladh could maintain the numbers that you claim they had if this were the case. There has to be a way, so here are some follow-up question: Is there a reason why female faoladh don't stay in their transformed state all of the time?"
Furrowing his brow, Farroel looked at the floor for a moment and thought. He knew the reason, but he couldn't make sense of the implications. "Yes." he said. "It's because it's difficult to stay hidden in the modern world. It's easier to blend in than stand out… If we did that, do you think it would work? Do you think it would help us?"
"I have a strong suspicion. Our researchers have found that female werewolves are fully 'operational' in that capacity. It's just the stress of the transformations that gets in their way. Remove that obstacle, and it is probable that there may be nothing more stopping you apart from the idea that you can't. You said that your father is the one who started using women as soldiers, yes? Now, is there anything else he did?"
"He… He told us to stay hidden." the wolfman said with wide eyes. He clenched his fists tighter as they sat in his lap. "Why… Why didn't we…?"
"Question him?" Ciel asked. "Because it sounded plausible. You said this has taken place over decades, right? So how many decades has the idea had to become ingrained in your people's psyche?"
"Dammit…" the other man growled. Abruptly he stood, raising his voice as he began pacing around the room. "Dammit! Damn him! Why-?! Why would he do that?! Why would he lie to us?! He was supposed to lead us! My own father! He lied to all of us and put us all in danger for no! Bloody! Reason!"
A hand appeared on the wolfman's shoulder, trying to calm him. "It's not your fault or the fault of your kind. You've been manipulated perhaps your entire life by him, and the others have been for enough time that he could secure his place. You aren't foolish, but you have been betrayed. He created a crisis and provided the answer to it. That answer just happened to involve him getting power and keeping a class of people who are strong enough to depose him, but can't because they cannot sit in his seat. The best thing we can do is get rid of him and free the faoladh from his lies."
It was quiet. Farroel didn't know what to say at first. There was only one thing to say, however, as much as it pained him to admit it. "You're right..." he said. "I just… I need a moment..."
"Understood. I'll leave you alone to think. It's certainly a lot to take in." Removing his hand, Ciel turned to walk back toward the door. "Get some rest."
"Wait." the other man called out, causing Ciel to pause. "You should tell my sister about… all of this..."
"Why?"
"I think it'll help. She… She's loyal to Abhartach, but… If she's more loyal to the cause. If there's no reason to fight anymore, she won't. I mean, she's good at it, but she's never loved it… Father was always really hard on her… She's good at following orders, but when she stops to think about it afterwards, I think it frightens her…"
"You think if we get her on our side, other people will listen?"
"If they begin to doubt father like I do, they will. She's always been on the ground with them. She's friends with all of them! If you can get Claire on our side, I know she'll cooperate..."
"You don't sound sure."
"Is anybody?"
Nodding, Ciel donned a small, half-smile. "Quite right. I'll bring it up when I report. Thank you very much, Mister Faelad."
Closing the door behind him, Ciel locked it back. He doubted that Farroel was lying and he doubted that he would try to escape, so it was more for the merit of HELLSING, really. Their suspicions were not yet resolved. There was something in the way the wolfman spoke of his relatives that convinced the bluenette. Over the years, his nose had been honed to sniff out lies, and that seemed like the truth.
Ciel reported his findings to his spouse and the other agents handling the case. Thus, they began composing a message for Girasol to pass on to the faoladh. It had to be well-written and precise if they were going to get anywhere, so it might take a while. As for the faoladh themselves, they were starting to grow more comfortable as time went on. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary thus far and all ways quiet. Their real problem was going to be getting their troops back out of Gehenna when the time came.
Either they needed to do it on the day of the second invasion under the veil of the surrounding chaos, or preferably, before. Johnathan was already concocting a plan for this in his own lair. The demon sat at his desk with pen and paper, jotting things down as he brainstormed.
"Splitting them up is both risky, but safe at the same time… If they're attacked, they'll be wiped out, but they're easier to hide that way… Hmmnn… Either way, the best way to go is to go under the wall, and not through the gate… It'll have to be when HELLSING has reduced visibility with their drones…"
Rather busily, he worked, trying to do his job well. His new roommate, on the other hand, didn't understand why he was working so hard. "What do you care they get their soldiers out?" Caesar asked, leaning against the table so he could see what the demon was up to. "It doesn't have anything to do with your plans, so why bother?"
"Actually, it does. I need them to have as many people as possible so there's enough to spare." Johanathan replied, while making another note. "If I'm gonna lure out Phantomhive, I need to be able to hit him where it hurts. That's not gonna be easy, either. He always has his guard up."
"So what's the plan? Bash the guards in the head and make a run for it?"
"No, that would be stupid." the demon answered. "I haven't worked out all of the kinks yet, but you'll see. What about your work? How is it coming along?"
"The other tank is up and running, while the subject we've got is still growing." the baron replied before uttering a slight cough. "I'm not sure if it'll be a really healthy specimen by the end of it, though. If we accelerate things too quickly, it might fall apart."
"Just keep it stable. Don't worry about it being healthy. I can fix that." Johnathan informed his accomplice before turning his gaze back to his paper. "It won't be the end of the world."
Looking at the demon for a moment, Caesar weighed the truth of that. Then, he shrugged, as there was nothing he could do about it, really. "Whatever you say, boss..."
"I'll have my way eventually. It'll all work out. I'll break his spirit so heavily that he might not ever recover..."
"What are you going to do afterwards?" the other rather innocently questioned. "There's gotta be more to this..."
To that, the other man chuckled and flashed his associate a smile. It wasn't a nice smile, or a friendly one. He was smiling, but it was more like he was simply baring his teeth. It caused Ceasar's eyes to widen with fear, yet somehow, excitement bubbled up from within his belly at the sight. It was cruel. Delightfully cruel. Sometimes, Johnathan's true nature would slip out from behind his mask and it became obvious that there was something sinister just beyond Caesar's sight. It was fascinating.
"Who knows?" Johnathan finally offered. "I'm testing his hypothesis. He has some experience with revenge, so maybe I'll turn out like him: A monster, whose lust for blood and betrayal can never be quenched. Or, maybe I won't and everything will be fine. There's no telling until it happens."
That sent chills down the other man's spine, but he smiled, regardless. It was genuine and very, very excited. "Sounds interesting!" he replied. "Mind if I stick around to see how it turns out?"
"Be my guest. Just don't annoy me and don't get in my way. I still have a little bit left to do before I can set things in motion, once there, I'll see who's right. Either I wind up like him, or I break him. Personally, I don't think I'll ever be on his level."
"Why is that?"
"He steals the lives of people and calls it 'justice.' Not only that, he actually tries to be friendly with his comrades before slaughtering their families, telling them that it was all for the greater good afterwards. He's a liar. He's also proud, explaining to me how I should feel and how I should go about things. He still thinks he has a say in the things that I do."
"Yeah..." the other man nodded. "That's awful. I don't know much about loss, I'm afraid, but I know a thing or two about control..."
"Did you not feel anything when the baron before you died?"
To that, Caesar uttered a small chuckle, though his face looked strangely solemn. "Not a bit." he answered. "I sort of wished he suffered more. Having me handling his care in his final days was pretty bad, though. Serves him right."
"What did you do?" Johnathan questioned, arching an eyebrow.
"I took away his freedom." Caesar replied. "I didn't give him a single minute of free time, if I could manage it. When he was bedridden, I had to stop, but I was sure to visit him and tell him about aaaaall the things I was doing that I wasn't supposed to. Smoking in front of him was always funny. He always nagged on about my health, since I was supposed to be his ticket to immortality."
On that note, the man paused to pull a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket before placing one in between his teeth. "Too bad his designs were shit."
"What do you mean?" the demon asked further, finally looking up. "Are the clones stable?"
"The new ones, yeah. The old ones? Not so much. He and I both had done some tweaking on it since I was 'born.'" For emphasis, the baron made air quotes around the word with his fingers. "Surely you've figured it out by now? I'm a clone, Mister Beattie. I'm a shitty, defective, 'human' who's just a copy of some other asshole. I was supposed to be exactly like him with the same knowledge, interests, and personality. I was supposed to be him and improve on the setup so we can keep duplicating and he can live forever. Shame 'free will' is a thing."
"Is that why you don't clone yourself? Because you know it won't result in immortality?"
"Part of it. It just doesn't work! Why do something you know is going to fail from the start?" proposed the other man. "It would be insanely cruel. My genes are already unstable because of how new everything was when I was made. Making a duplicate of a shitty copy will make it even worse for them. No, the way I see it, is I'm here for a short period of time, even for most humans. I know I'm falling apart at the seams, so why fuss over it? All I wanna do, is live life to the fullest, and see and do as much as I can while I'm still intact. That's why I joined up with the Philosophers! Not because I actually give a shit about immortality or have some deep motive or something to actually gain from it all- it just looked fun and that's all there is to it. I'm sort of jealous of you, if I'm honest. You have a plan, while I'm just along to enjoy the ride."
"Well, hold on tight, I guess." the demon replied. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride from here on out..."
A/N: I feel like this is sort of a buzzkill after the last chapter, but it's necessary so the opening of the next one will make sense. Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out how to combine the two, so we're splitting them up. I hope that's alright with you...
Unfortunately, I start school Monday, so we might slow down some. Might not. I dunno. I'd rather be writing.
I really want to breeze through this and get to the part that I've been wanting to write for MONTHS, but we've still got like, a pretty good sized chunk to get through before then. This is a REALLY long arc, you guys.
I'd like to build drama, but I'm worried about making it drag on too long. If I make it too short, though, it'll feel rushed... Oh, bother... What to do, what to do, what to do...
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
