Chapter 24: Requiem

Wolf kicked in the door of one of the houses and hurried inside with Roberta, releasing her near a wall. She laid her back against it, still on her feet but barely able to stay that way with what little energy she still had. It would have been a taxing day for most people, never mind her. Wolf shut the door and went to the far window straight away to keep watch for members of the New Order.

"What are you doing here?" Roberta asked, holding the wound in her shoulder. It was still bleeding.

"Revy called me," he explained, never taking his eyes from outside. It came as a surprise that Revy would have called in help for the maid. "She told me you two were out here killing Hawke's people. Rock and Garcia…they alright?"

"We have not found them. I thought the Young Master would be with Hawke, but he was nowhere to be found." She flinched in pain after trying to walk forward, the wound still very fresh. Wolf noticed this. He instructed her to turn around and sit on the ground so he could dress the wound. He produced a needle, suture, a small bottle of alcohol and a bandage roll from the pockets of his jacket. Then, he proceeded to do the best her could to prevent her from losing any more blood.

The pain from the alcohol was like nothing else, but Roberta knew it was necessary to sterilise the wound and prevent infection. Wolf was adept at stitching and bandaging the damage, having likely done so for his own wounds many times in the past. When he was done, Roberta remained on the floor but rested her back against the wall.

"My apologies," she told the assassin. "I…am not feeling quite myself. Allow me a moment to rest."

"Take your time," he told her. "You don't look so great. What happened to you?" That was a complicated question. Roberta did not feel like explaining her tussle with Revy at the moment. Wolf stood there awkwardly for a moment, but there was something about him that suggested he was not sure how to behave. His gaze was averted whenever Roberta looked at him and he was a tad quieter than usual. Sensing the awkwardness rise, he slowly exited through a door into the adjacent room. Roberta heard him pacing in there until he finally settled down directly behind her, his back to the wall also as he sat on the ground. They were like two mirror images of one another as they stayed there, silent.

Roberta could almost fall asleep here, but she did not want that to happen. Garcia was still in danger and she had to find him before it was too late. Hawke was the one who had wanted her dead, and some of his subordinates surely shared that desire, but now that the head was cut off the snake they may not show the same restraint with their hostages. Roberta had also been wrong about Garcia's whereabouts. While she had hoped he would be with Hawke, she was also considering the possibility he wouldn't be right up until she confirmed as much in her discussion with the New Order's leader. In that regard, she came to the conclusion that both Garcia and Rock were being kept together after all. She hoped with all her heart that Revy would succeed in rescuing them, and that she would find it in her black heart to ferry the boy safely back to the Sankanpalace. As she rested there, some memories and thoughts surrounding recent events came back to her and she was happy to sit in silence no longer.

"You seem troubled," she said to the assassin in the other room. He did not reply, but she knew he had heard her.

"You could say that," he agreed finally. The tone of his voice suggested that was very much the case. Roberta was being subtle about it, but she knew what it was that was bothering him. She, too, had some unaddressed feelings about the day he shot her up the Mekong river.

"We both remember what happened that day. There is no shame in addressing it."

"It's not shame I'm worried about," Wolf retorted. Then he held his head in his hands and grunted, uncomfortable with talking about this at all. "I know what I did out there was…unforgivable. I can't explain it. I just lost myself. When you told me about Ashur…something snapped inside me. It was like somebody flicked a switch and I became…"

"…a Bloodhound," Roberta suggested. That was ironically fitting. "You became the old you, the remorseless killer that you used to be a long time ago."

Wolf was awestruck. Clearly, her analysation was bang on.

"How do you know that?"

"It is a feeling I am all too familiar with," she confided in him. He hadn't been in Roanapur when she came after the Grey Fox team, his arrival was after that, but Roberta had an inkling he knew about it. "When the Young Master's father was killed, he asked me why. 'Why would God do this?' He was so heartbroken. And when the investigators told us the identity of the ones responsible, I followed them to this city. I was going to kill them. I did kill some of them. And I was stopped before I could finish it." The assassin listened to her every word. It was like she had gotten inside his head and pulled out his every thought and fear so they were laid bare. "Those men took everything from the Young Master and I could not bear to see him in such pain. Master Diego was a kind man full of love and compassion…he did not deserve the fate he got. What was it that Ashur did to you to warrant such destruction?" Truly, the trail of bodies left in his wake as he pursued his target was unbelievable. He stopped at nothing to find his mark.

"When I was being trained by Sif," the assassin began, "she conditioned me to be completely under her control. It got to a point where I wasn't myself anymore. I was a pawn, a weapon she could use to do whatever she wanted. She was the Alpha, and I the Omega. That was how she put it. But she took me in when I had nowhere else to go. She saved me, in a way, and turned me into what I am now." The assassin left nothing unsaid, as if it was easier to speak like this when they were not face to face. He would confide everything he could in Roberta. "She had this idea that she brainwashed her Pack with. We were taught that the past would always control you unless you destroyed it and cut all ties to it. I guess…Ashur's existence threatened that idea. After I killed her, I tried to forget it all and erase that part of my life."

"He reminded you of her," Roberta deduced. "And to live in peace, you had to kill him." The Wolf did not address that, but the silence spoke volumes about his agreement with that statement.

"After all this time, she's still in my head, pulling the strings. I couldn't get him out of my head. Sif had me believing I was one of a kind, you know, that I was the only Omega. She made me feel…special. We both know that wasn't the case, after all."

During the conflict between the ruling factions and the Dead Men, Hunter Woods hired an assassin calling herself Andromeda. She had been a former member of Wolf Pack, another Omega like Ashur and the Wolf. They had been a trinity of sorts, though none of them knew about the existence of the others. Highly trained and unparalleled in their ability to kill, Sif would have used them to topple empires. Had Wolf not been stopped during his rampage, he may well have gone after Andromeda next in his bloodlust.

"The fact that she made me think I was, I dunno, chosen…and then to have it shoved in my face that she lied, it made me want to kill Ashur. That would have felt like justice at the time." Though their stories were vastly different, Wolf's bore many similarities to Roberta's. They had both been entranced to assume their old personas in pursuit of those who threatened them or caused them pain in some way, and had both been snapped out of their deranged states just in time before getting themselves killed.

"I understand," Roberta told him. "That is why I went after you. I felt somewhat responsible and I did not wish to see you come to harm. And…I know what it is like. I hoped to avoid a repeat of my mistakes."

"I am sorry, you know," Wolf said from the other side of the wall. "If I hadn't been in that state, I never would have done that to you. My mind was not my own."

"You caused the Young Master a lot of pain," Roberta said honestly. She was not going to mince words or sugar-coat her opinion. The assassin needed to hear it blunt and true. "I fear he will not soon forgive you. Had your shot hit its target, I would not be here today."

"I know."

"And if I had not been so badly injured during my encounter with those responsible for his father's death…I fear I may have retaliated against you. I would not have held back." Of that, the Wolf was also certain. He had heard stories of her exploits and deeds during her time working for the FARC, and he had seen her handiwork first hand even with her injuries. Had they come face to face during her prime, the Wolf may not have survived his encounter with her.

"I was weak," Wolf admitted. "In my weakness, I forgot myself. I will not let that happen again. Sif cannot control me anymore."

She may have been dead, but the woman who had been the leader of Wolf Pack had buried her claws deep into his young, impressionable soul and even death had not released her hold on him. He often wondered if Andromeda felt the same way, if she sometimes lost herself because of Sif's influence. Ashur certainly still had his loyalty to his old master, but it was unclear if that was because he had been brainwashed or if he genuinely cared for Wolf Pack's leader.

"They call the people of Roanapur the walking dead," Roberta said. "Because they have accepted their fate in that city, condemned to forever exist there neither alive nor truly dead. I fear you have spent too much time in Roanapur, Wolf. I would hate to see you become one of them." Though that sounded like an insult, the assassin heard genuine concern in her voice. After surviving for so long in Roanapur and somehow escaping the fate that trapped so many others, the assassin seemed to be slipping away and losing his soul to the darkness. He was a killer of men, a violent, wretched individual who was suited to this world better than many, but his humanity had always remained mostly intact despite the horrors that surrounded him. Now, though, it was more uncertain. Perhaps he was becoming consumed by this world, doomed to wander the streets of Roanapur as one of the walking dead and losing the mix of humanity and inhumanity that made him so unique.

Wolf closed his eyes and envisioned himself on a beach, wandering near the waterline and leaving footprints in the sand. Around him was a darkness that threatened to engulf him if he kept walking along this path. He opened his eyes again.

"I guess I don't have to worry about Sif anymore," he said aloud. "Because that city has fucked me up more than she ever could have."

"You are unlike the others," Roberta explained. "Unlike me. You were not raised in the shadows, nor did you grow up in the filth of this world. But you ended up here, regardless. Perhaps it does not suit you so well after all." She may have been right. The stench of gutter mud and dried blood emanated from the sadistic killers that plagued this city, like Revy and even Roberta herself. Their pasts were rife with trauma and horrific acts of violence. Wolf, on the other hand, was not moulded by his environment like them. He had lived a perfectly normal youth only to be dragged down to the darkest pits of this life by Sif and her Wolf Pack. He may have been thriving here until now, but it was not his natural habitat and it was taking its toll on him.

His hand went to the crucifix around his neck, the one he had been given by Usagi after he took care of her. What must she have thought of him now? After he got the call from Revy, he got Cletus and Daisy to watch her, utterly refusing to leave her alone in the apartment. He still cared for her, but he was starting to accept that she had lost all love for him upon learning that he killed her father. Wolf closed his eyes and let out a breath of air. There was silence again for a few minutes as the two killers remained back to back either side of the wall. Times had changed for them both and it was unclear where their destinies would lie. Roberta would not stop in her quest to rescue Garcia, even if it killed her, but her purpose would be fulfilled no matter the outcome and she could rest easy knowing she atoned for her sins. Wolf, on the other hand, was walking a much darker path and his sins seemed to be mounting up instead of fading away. Soon enough, he would be crushed under the weight of them. At that stage, he truly would be one of the walking dead.

"What will you do now?" Wolf asked. Truthfully, Roberta had almost been nodding off until she heard his voice.

"I must…rest for now," she said honestly. "My body aches and I have not the strength to go on. But I must return the Young Master to his home. I cannot stop until he is safe." She went quiet for a few seconds. "Master Garcia…he cares for me. It was difficult for him to see what you did that day. It may take him a while, but I believe that in time he may find it in his heart to forgive you."

"I don't expect him to," Wolf replied.

"I know. It is difficult to offer forgiveness to those who do wrong by the ones we love. This is a lesson I have learned the hard way. Still, it is possible. If an innocent Japanese man's family can forgive his killer, then I believe the Young Master can absolve you of your crimes." Wolf decided not to ask questions about said Japanese man, but he had a good idea what she was talking about. "I have not always lead a good life. I have done things that would shock even you, Wolf. My past is littered with the bodies of countless innocents. I did not differentiate between them, I killed whoever I had to for the 'cause' I believed in. But I have found peace with Garcia Lovelace. He loves me greatly, and I love him with all my heart. After this is over, I would give anything to return to Venezuela by his side." Wolf closed his eyes again and saw himself on that beach once more, only now he was not alone and Roberta, no longer maimed but in prime condition, was walking alongside him. Soon, the image of them changed and he instead pictured a snowy mountain with a lone wolf wandering its summit, covered in beautiful white fur and with vibrant blue eyes. It was accompanied by a second wolf shortly, a great black beast with red eyes. They both howled to the heavens together. Wolf opened his eyes.

"Then you take that peace and run," he told her. "You seize the opportunity, because it won't present itself again." Roberta clutched the crucifix around her own neck.

"I pray you find the same peace one day," she told him. He appreciated that deep down within him, aware of the implications that he was currently on the precipice of darkness. There was still time for him to abandon the path he was on. Alternatively, he could stay the course and commit to this life like the rest. It was up in the air for now.

"Let me help you," he said. "Together, we can get Garcia to safety. You can't do this alone." Roberta knew she was weak. The trials of the last few years had taken their toll on her immensely and she was far from the woman she had been. But she needed to muster all of the strength that she could. Her dear friend and master needed her now more than ever.

"I appreciate the offer," she told the assassin warmly. "As would the Young Master. But this is something that I must do by myself. I promised Master Garcia that I would always be there for him and I intend to keep that promise. But I must rest, for now. The Young Master will be waiting…I cannot fail him."