It had been some time since Cadis Et Rama di Raizel had gone into hibernation, resulting from an unexpected and untimely drain on his power. While the efforts on his part to protect the Werewolf Lord, Muzaka, had succeeded initially, there had been ever increasing conflict in the human world. Daily, thousands had been dragged to the stackle, instigated by none other than Ragus, as his experiments produced monsters and yielded little benefits to the world as a whole. Although the world had been thrown into chaos, on the surface, no one in the human society knew the precise cause of the events, and merely blamed fate, or the devil, or god.

The Lord was getting weary of it all and often had despotic moments in which he was either extremely calculating or very doting. Frankenstein had left his master sealed in the mansion, in his ageless slumber, to put his skills to use wherever he could. Although he was still his master's acolyte, and would always be, there was not point in watching over a living corpse.

Until the day of his revival, Frankenstein wanted to prove himself virtuous rather than diabolical...even if he killed a few thousands to do it. He enjoyed battle. Even without the full control of his Dark Spear, which had been sealed by his master before his entombment, he could fight better than most. Back to the land of his birth, in the north-western most reaches of Europe, he had found time flowed quickly.

Humans had left behind the world of sword and shield and turned their attention to the gun. With this advancement, over the course of several centuries, Frankenstein studied the evolution of all kinds, as well as wounds. A bullet was a lump of lead covered in black powder, so it was fairly sterile when it went it, but...it also burned. Even for the Werewolves, this posed a problem, and should the bullet be forged from expensive silver, it could even cause long lasting injuries.

Thinking his master should be awakening soon, Frankenstein intended to return to Lukedonia, but was caught off guard by something of truly disturbing importance for humankind. The automatic assault rifle. As soon as he saw one, he knew it's simplicity would lead to perfection in the next few hundred years. And all that was required to perfect any weapon, was a war.

The French Prussian war was the mere doorstep of hell, and even he was unable to escape the depravity that was the surrender of France, the desolation of Germany, and finally the despair of the world wars. Her Doctor had never been needed more, although he felt genuinely guilty that he had not returned to his master's side sooner. He wondered, every day, every hour, if his master was sitting alone and unattended at that big window, in that big mansion. Staring endlessly at the sky, just letting time slip away, with nothing but his loneliness.

It seemed it would go on forever, but like all wars, it did eventually come to an end. Ragus and his acolytes were keeping a low profile. The union was under their control and even Frankenstein had been surprised that in the end, there had been movement from them to stop the insanity that was the warfront...although the humans that had landed on the beach would never know that there had been supernatural entities helping them and merely called it providence.

Putting on his hat, dressed as a gentleman of the era, rather casual and without the extreme social constraints of the Victorian Era, Frankenstein could let his hair down. He had not gotten any kind of telepathic message from his master, so he held some worry that he was not needed or wanted, but he also knew that that was just ridiculous. Even he, an immortal, could not help but suffer PTSD after suffering endless noise for the better part of a century.

He just got over it faster.

He arrived in Lukedonia with a light step, heading to the mansion straight away. To his surprise, some nobles tried to attack him, but he knocked them out and continued on. What the duce was going on?! He had not heard anything about them deciding to treat him as a hostile entity, but he supposed he had not exactly paid call upon the Lord recently.

Moving into the mansion, Frankenstein found that it was dusty but in otherwise perfect repair. Muzaka was not there nor was Ashleen. Feeling extremely apprehensive, Frankenstein rushed to the shrine, but this was, he was very thankful to find, still sealed and unmolested.

"Ah, so it's you." Came a lilting voice, from nearby him. Frankenstein turned, seeing only the glimmer of red eyes in the dim hallway, before his body became somewhat unstable and he sank onto his knees. "Just sleep. It will cause you no harm." The voice seemed to be speaking from inside his mind, which he could only assume proved it was a noble he was facing, but he really did not want to give into unconsciousness. "Frankenstein, I am not your enemy." Unable to resist after all, although he had never suffered such a defeat before, Frankenstein slumped forward, his mind spinning into a fitful sleep.

Break

Frankenstein looked at the visage which had appeared before him. It had been some time since he had been genuinely shocked, but now, he could honestly say he was at a loss. "You...are most certainly...already dead."

"Yes, I am." The young man, or so he looked, had no expression on his face. His intense red eyes seemed to be without pupil, and he blinked them slowly. "However, that does not mean I cannot take physical form for a short period of time. What do you think death is, I wonder?" He turned, looking at the table of concoctions that Frankenstein had laid out.

"Then, to what do I owe this honour?" Frankenstein asked, cautiously. "You appear before me, when my Master has entered a deep hibernation. I have no intention of betraying my master."

"Betrayal is defined by the betrayed not the betrayer." He replied, sagely. "There are infinitely more paths intersecting than what you see under your feet. But, in order to walk aright, there will always be those that are betrayed as a consequence. Rightness, and goodness, are not always correct." He turned, moved closer, and while he did seem to take steps, he also seemed to glide flawlessly. "You are by no means 'good', Frankenstein."

Feeling the sweat trickle down his back, Frankenstein nodded once. "No, and neither are you."

"Exactly." The noble smiled, ever so slightly, and it made his face look mask-like and fake. It vanished and he turned away. "Now, then. Philosophy aside, I would like to speak to you about a certain matter. This is a very important matter. It is so very important. My elder brother is, to sum it up, a little naïve. He has never experienced hardship, labour, or defeat. Surely, he knows loneliness, but loneliness is not the same as loss. Until my death, he had never known anything ugly or bitter, nor sullied his hands with 'murder'." He moved his eyes over the many tools lying out and then sighed a little. "Moving forward in time, I cannot image just how much suffering he will experience at the hands of humans."

"Humans?" Frankenstein asked, frowning. "You mean the rumblings of war? There are always humans warring with each other."

"Humans will one day war with nobles." He replied, in a whisper. "My brother is the Noblesse, and what is that, precisely? It is not a species. It is a state of being, a mind-set? I doubt that. Then, what is a noble? We are quite unusual. As compared to humans." He turned, lifting his hand. "Would you think me an apparition? Then what are soul weapons?"

Frowning, Frankenstein considered these questions. "My master...does not have a soul weapon."

"That is because, while he is still alive, he is a soul weapon." Was the hideous reply. "And that is all he is. He cannot be anything other than that. His existence we predetermined to the greatest extent, and, when he 'dies' he will 'cease to exist'. A 'new' Noblesse will likely emerge. Think about it more like a phenomenon." He looked away, his face growing sad. "The greatest misfortune among the nobles is that he can feel emotions. Otherwise, he would simply be a weapon owned by the race as a whole to be used to meet out judgements. Like Ragnarök. That thing cannot 'think', and therefore, it cannot 'feel'. But the Lord can. And so can the Noblesse. Eventually, that is what will drive him mad." He shut his eyes, his expression even more unhappy. "Before that happens, it would be better if he were to get a little more bloodstained."

Getting to his feet, Frankenstein hit the table. "You are saying many things, which I sadly understand better than I want to! Is that why you betrayed him? He regrets it!"

"That is necessary. If he could not regret slaying his younger brother, then he would have likely already become 'a threat'." The noble replied, his voice a bit husky. "Come, I will show you. First, my 'death'." He reached out with his hand.

Frankenstein intended to drive it off, to prevent anything being done to his person or his mind, but he could not react fast enough. A ghost did not function at the same speed and it was like trying to catch lint or light particles. In the next instant, Frankenstein found himself looking at a horrible scene. His master was there and many nobles were dissolving into nothing below him. With that haughty look on his face, that utter pride in his own existence, Cadis Etrama di Raizel brought his might down on his younger sibling and the body broke into fragments.

There was no blood.

There was no corpse.

Just the master standing lonely on the broken battle field.

"You are looking but not seeing." The voice startled him and he turned to see the robed figure there, looking at the scene without emotion. "What you are looking at, is a scene of desolation. It is...regrettable. What you are not seeing, however, is important."

"What I am not seeing?" Looking over the field, Frankenstein licked his lips. "Well, Nobles do not leave corpses behind. And of course, that is likely where soul weapons come from. A crystallization of the soul, a type of arte, is how I have always considered it in my mind. I have no instrument to measure it by, though."

"Measure? Yes, it is beyond measure." He agreed to that. "Since not all nobles produce soul weapons. Those people do not exist anymore. They all disappeared and became like a part of this world. It is not 'sleep', Frankenstein." He turned, his tone a little warning. "I am by no means sleeping."

"Ah..." Frankenstein shifted, then nodded. "No, I can see that one. Km. You are saying that, because nobles do not leave corpses behind, there is some mechanism like that. I still do not understand why you are showing me this, though."

"Oh? It is actually something you are very familiar with." Was the candid reply. "An arte, a thing that can affect nobles, a thing of great power. It is relative small, that thing, but it is quite impressive. That is the difference between living and dying," He looked down. "I wanted to use that, but, he did not understand my intentions. It may be impossible for him to comprehend such things as humans being a threat to nobles."

"That seems to be quite common among nobles in general." Frankenstein replied. "You are talking about this 'blood stone'. I've heard a little from The Lord. He was upset that he had put such a weight onto Raizel. I can put the rest together myself. I've never used anything like that before, though."

"You have." The reply was obstinate. "Although you take it to a dark place."

"Are you...talking about Dark Spear?!" Frankenstein asked, nervously.

"Oh, so you did know it." He turned, his eyes eerily remaining constant, while reality melted and shifted to a new scene. "This is an important moment in time. I was watching you, from the edges of reality. You did an odd thing, something I did not account for."

Looking at the image of himself, there, as he slit his wrist and let his blood into the unsuspecting teacup, Frankenstein blushed. "That is...when I formed a contract with Raizel-nim."

"Contract? Well, if you want to put it like that." He reached out, putting a fingertip to his throat. "I suppose I cannot really envision that man biting you on the throat, either. However, there is one thing you did not know. Could not possibly know. The Noblesse is a soul weapon, and as such, it is merely an abundance of power. There was never a 'person' there to begin with. Yet, for some reason, 'that' developed intellect, speech, and emotions. 'That' is not a person but it should be a 'soul'. Then, with 'what' did you form a contract? Just what is 'that thing'?"

"I'm confused. You say it as though my master is not the same as the other nobles. That he's more closely related to a soul weapon. But soul weapons are, well, objects that contain or house the former clan leaders spirits. A physical body and an object are different."

"There is not much difference is composition. Since, our bodies shatter and dissolve upon 'death', yet, we do not 'die' the way that humans do. That is what I am. I am not an object but I am not a living person any longer. That is because I made a new body for myself. I have no real substance and I lack all internal functions. Nobles, as compared to humans, are not mechanisms of that sort. The Noblesse is no exception to this rule. 'That Thing' is merely in the guise of a noble, since it was formed that way from the beginning."

Thoughts now in disarray, Frankenstein thought back through out all he had learned. He had studied nobles before. It was true that they did not seemingly relate to their environment the same way all other lifeforms, even werewolves, did. Werewolves at least left bodies behind, which they normally burned. That was a ritual, and also 'cleaning up the evidence'. Then, why, why did nobles 'dissolve'?

And, in the absence of the formation of a soul weapon, did they really just 'stop being'?

Then, what about the Noblesse?!

Mouth dry, feeling overwhelming, Frankenstein blinked. "Why did you relate that to Dark Spear?" He asked, in a stage whisper.

"What is Dark Spear?" He asked back, almost playfully.

"Dark Spear is...comprised of many, countless, human souls. Which is also why it is trying to eat me alive." Biting his lip, Frankenstein wanted to shout abuse. "It is trying to consume me...just as my master's life force is used up each time he uses his powers. That is not a 'side effect' but a normal 'consequence'. Because he is a soul weapon."

"Yes, a countless number of human souls. How do you maintain your own mind, Frankenstein? You have and you do so over and over. Even when perhaps you should not." He blinked, slowly, allowing the person before him to come to his own conclusions.

"How to I maintain my reason? My own identity inside my mind? There are times when I have lost that." Frankenstein replied, honestly. "However, I have been brought back to myself each time, since Dark Spear latches onto someone. Normally, if it drinks my blood or that of another..." Feeling weak in his stomach, Frankenstein licked his lips. "You are not seriously suggesting that Master should drink blood?!"

"You jumped farther than I thought you would. Good, you are clever and I can speak more plainly." He replied. "You have already given him your blood, have you not? And what came of it? Nothing. Just that you may exchange power between you freely. Up to the limit of your physical body. Since you are human and that power was not meant for human bodies to contain. It causes mutation, as you know. That is why those creatures emerge. These matters are so important and yet the nobles ignore them. It is not very attractive, yet, it is not very hideous, either. It is about feelings, I am certain. We are talking about a 'thing', but, since there are 'feelings' there, it can also be called a 'person'." He looked down, as if very sad. "The humans, one day, will comprehend these matters. It may be a thousand years from now. Nevertheless, it will. Dark Spear is not 'evil', is it? It is only human. It is something born form humans, and, that is why it can be used to any extent. If it could not, humanity would have already perished, and I would not have had to give up my life."

"Dark Spear exists because there is someone capable of wielding it?" Frankenstein asked. He did not believe that.

"It exists because it was called for. Do you not indulge in it? Frankenstein, who and what are you?" He asked it like that. "You are by no means 'good', but, you are also, most assuredly, a human being. That is why Dark Spear hates you. Dark Spear is the self-loathing of human kind toward itself. The ugliness, the weakness, the self-sacrifice, and the insanity. Of course, it is always greedy and abusive. Just like you. There has never been anyone so much more human than you."

Stunned, feeling a little weak kneed, Frankenstein swallowed. He felt a bit like crying, hearing that, but he could not really deny it, either. "Master has already gone into a hibernation, though." He said, softly. "And I seriously doubt he will drink my blood."

"That, I cannot say. Since I did not anticipate 'That man' ever forming a contract with a human. It may be that there was some affect on him when he killed his 'own flesh and blood'. He also did something remarkable for that werewolf. For his 'friend' and for that 'child', he used his powers. That did not cause him any great hardship, either. His fatigue was from fighting the werewolf lord and not from awakening that child. That is important. Crucial. I cannot even comprehend to what extent 'that thing' is evolving emotionally. It may be that he has not yet reached an age of maturity or it could be that he is degenerating. I cannot say. However, what I do understand, is 'blood between nobles', and that is where you must play your part well. It cannot be that werewolf," He sighed, a little irritated. "And he did not choose you, Frankenstein. It was you that gave him your blood to begin with."

"My blood?" Frankenstein asked. As he thought about it more scientifically, what his master was 'lacking' was 'blood', but 'blood' was not just a liquid or a protein, it was also 'information'. "So, from one point of view, nobles are 'living organisms comprised of information'. And the more 'pure' the noble, the more powerful, and also, the more fragile. Your bodies are made up of particles, which are more closely organised, but come apart more easily. Humans, which are made up of matter, leave a 'husk' or 'residue' which is 'left over information', in the form of a corpse. Then," Looking up, he tested this being out. "Where do human souls go after death?"

There was a pause. "From what I can see, nowhere in particular." He replied, softly. "However, I am a noble, and I died a long time ago." He shrugged, flippantly.

Smiling derisively, Frankenstein nodded. "Indeed." He looked down, then over the instruments scattered over his table. "Then, the blood stone was for the sake of 'adding information'."

"It is information that has crystalised over many millennia. For nobles, it is a drug, and for humans...it would likely cause sporadic mutation. Likely, the cells would be seared away in the end." He looked down. "Even I could not hold it on my body for very long. In the end, I saw too much. The Noblesse, however, is not affected by it. This is likely because the processing speed is different. Now," He looked over. "You understand, correct? The choice between living and dying?"

"Yes, I do. My Master did only what he was 'programmed' to do, without thinking about anything else. I did wonder why he said that. That he 'did not think of such things'. Even with family, there are normally many conflicting emotions." Frankenstein blinked, biting his lip. "I really do not know if I can replace something as profound as a blood stone, and I still don't know how to get him to drink my blood, but I do understand what you are trying to tell me. Ah, but there is one thing I do not know."

"Then I will try to explain it." He replied.

"How would you use this blood stone to affect him in anyway? I cannot picture him eating such a thing." Frankenstein frowned, not liking how he had worded that. "It is a 'stone' is it not?"

"It is...in that form. It is information, though. I had hoped to melt it down and provide it to him in that medium. You have surely heard of it. Humans are always trying to get that." He turned. "Did you not drink something similar once?"

"Drink?" Frankenstein frowned, looking into the well of his memories. Slowly, it came to him, what this strange entity was referring to. "Are you, seriously, talking about Elixir?"

"Ah, there. You see? You really knew everything from the beginning." He turned, with a little gesture. "Frankenstein...such a fitting name for you. Well, I must go now. I am a little tired. It's easier to move around without a body, too. And I don't need to eat. But of course I do get tired." He looked up, then turned. "What is it?"

"You really just wanted to save him from that kind of fate? You did not intend to rule over humans or subjugate them?" Frankenstein asked, frowning at him.

"Of course, I did. Is that not what nobles have always been doing? Humans are very dangerous, just look at yourself!" His eyes flashed. "It's just that ruling over humans does not require them to ever know I existed. Why should I have to run a human governmental system? That is a concept only humans would come up with, isn't it? What you are talking about there is called 'slavery'. I just do not want humans to destroy the planet I happen to live on, thank you." He had just said it like that, bluntly, and it seemed that he was a little irritated. "And I would like it if my brother did not have to expend his life force for the sake of a few mutant monkeys, either. He somehow developed feelings and that is surely not something evil." A real, genuine smile broke out on his face, and he lit all up. "To be happy, is all that I have ever wanted for my elder brother!"