Chapter 28 - Ignition
Island X: September 28th

Note that this chapter does contain Armand, a minor in a stressful/dangerous/whump situation if that's something you'd like to avoid.

Tensions on his island were rising and unsteady. Robur could feel it hanging in the air like a thick corroded shroud. Rifts were growing amongst the Mysterious Men and he knew it was only a matter of time before they found the straw that would break the camel's back. He did not dare to relax. Even with a task as simple as sleeping, he felt exposed, unsafe. How much longer was this to go on for?

Robur was about to get changed for bed, lock his door and put himself at risk once more when there was a knock at the door. With a patient sigh, he refastened the one button he had loosened and called for the person outside to come in.

"Fantômas," he said in surprise as the door opened. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to speak with you for a moment, that's if I'm not disturbing you of course," Fantômas explained.
"Not at all, pull up a chair for yourself."
"If it's all the same to you I'd rather stand. I'll be brief about what I have to say," he said as he closed the door behind him.
"Then come, speak," Robur said, becoming more curious. He leaned back against his desk, almost sitting on it, holding onto the edge of the table.

"It may be nothing, but I am concerned about Monsieur Lupin. For one his friendship with Nemo seems to be strengthening... My only concern is that it could be used against us if it grows too much. I can't begin to imagine what ideas might be filling up in his head and the fact he return his knife to him is disconcerting."
Robur nodded to himself. He should have expected something like this, for doubts and concerns to creep up amongst their group. These men were no fools and little could escape their notice. But for Fantômas of all people to bring the matter to his attention- it had to be serious.

Robur said "I understand the concern, but I am confident Lupin will not allow himself to be manipulated. I'll be sure to keep an eye on the matter."
"Forgive me if I speak out of turn but I am not so sure. Lupin is..." Fantômas made a rolling gesture with his hand as he tried to find his words. Then he clenched his fist, letting it drop back down "he is not himself- not as sharp as I would expect to find him in such circumstances."

Robur pulled a face of doubt. "Are you referring to the poisoning and the shooting?"
Fantômas nodded "It is quite straightforward. I've looked everywhere for any other climbing spots, and they are all some distance away. No one could have run all the way across the roof safely in that weather and I doubt they would not have been seen. They had to use that balcony. Robur, I am sure Saint-Clair fired those shots."

Fantômas cleared his throat, stopping himself as he grew frustrated. He struggled against pacing as he continued in an almost pained voice "Lupin ignores the facts of these latest attempts on your life, twisting them to prove Saint-Clair's supposed innocence! Like yourself, I suspect the boy. I fear Lupin cares for him too much- but whether he has been disillusioned or simply does not want to accept the truth I cannot say."

Robur shrugged, unable to answer the questions that burned in Fantômas' mind. "We've had our disagreements but I cannot explain this. I don't know what is going through his head at the moment but I can understand why you are starting to doubt in him..."
"I'm sure it's nothing," Fantômas said quickly. "I feel I can trust in Lupin's ability- for the most part. I only wanted to be certain that you were aware. I would not believe everything he says wholeheartedly."
"I understand. Thank you for bringing it to my attention." Robur could not help but feel disheartened. The last thing he needed was for his second in command, for Arsène Lupin, to be losing his touch at a time like this.

Fantômas looked to clock, noting the time and the effect his words had on his leader. "I'll take my leave, the hour is late," Fantômas made for the door.
"Come and see me tomorrow morning. We can discuss things further then. I'm interested to know what your investigating has uncovered," Robur explained, opening the door for him to leave as the conversation drew to a close.

As Robur opened the door, a weak wall of smoke rushed up to meet him, thickening at a rapid pace. The smell slithered up into his nose, making him clear his throat. It stung his eyes.
"This wasn't here a moment ago," Fantômas said with alarm. "Is this... normal?"
"No." Robur's eyes followed the smoke to its source as if it were a stream. His blood turned to ice in his veins.

"Armand," he breathed as if frozen for a split second. With sudden a burst of energy, he ran down the hall to the boy's room. He called out to him again, louder. He tried to open the door, surprising himself as he seized the warm metal in his hand. "Fantômas wake the men up in these rooms, hurry now!"
Fantômas did as he was asked, pounding on the doors, shouting until everyone was up, ordering for them to deal with the emergency.

Robur shook at the door, pushing hard, trying to see if it had caught on something. It would not move. It was locked. He could not withhold the feeling of dread that slammed into his chest. Armand never locked his door. "Armand! Armand, get up!" Robur bellowed.

Even through the noise Fantômas and the waking men made, Robur could hear Armand hitting the door. He called for him, gasping and coughing as his small body strained to get the air it needed. Relieved though he was to hear movement, the sense of urgency multiplied tenfold. Robur needed to get him out.

"Armand, can you hear me?" he called again.
"Da?! Da, help- it's getting worse! I can't get out the window. I'm stuck!"
"Keep your head, my lad. Where's your key?"
"It's not. It's not here," Armand choked. There was a great crack followed by a shatter. Armand shouted in alarm. The window must have smashed with the heat. Robur tensed his jaw. The smoke was overwhelming both of them.
"Hold on, son, keep as low as you can."

Robur raced down the hall and back to his room. He pulled open one of the drawers of his desk, where the spare key to Armand's room was hidden. Only now it was gone. "No," he hissed. "No, why isn't it here?" He checked the floor with no success. With a snarl of anger, he hurried back to Armand's door. He was running out of options. He was running out of time.

"Armand?!" he shouted, hoping for a reply. There was nothing but crackling wood. Robur took to trying to break down the door, using his sheer strength, but it was not enough. He shouted and grunted as he tried to get the door to open, ramming it with his shoulder. But these doors were strong and with every painful charge, the realisation grew that he could not break it.

Fantômas emerged from one of the rooms, alarmed at Robur's attempts. "Have you not got a key?" he exclaimed as he approached.
"They're gone, both of them!" Robur tried the door again. "Armand, can you hear me? Answer me, son!"
There was no reply. Not even a cough. Robur rammed himself into the door with growing ferocity.
"Step aside," Fantômas ordered "it's impossible to break these doors. I should be able to pick it."

"Then be quick!" Robur barked.
Fantômas ran down the hallway and into his room, returning triumphant. Dropping down to the smoking keyhole, he began to work as fast as his nimble fingers would allow. It took only a few seconds but to Robur, it felt like an age. He couldn't hear Armand. He was running out of time.
"Hurry, Monsieur," Robur insisted.

As soon as it unlocked, Fantômas pushed the door open about a foot. Black smoke, hot and thick, belched out at him, filling the hall, yanking any good and clean air from them. Both men coughed and wheezed and their eyes watered.

Being the smaller of the two, Fantômas tried to squeeze into the room. As soon as he got his chest through the gap, the smoke seized him, blinding him, making him desperate for air. But he had to ignore his own needs. Fantômas held his breath and looked for the boy. The bedroom was in flames, starting on the left-hand side where the smashed window was. Armand's bed was on the right, close to the door.

Armand was lying behind the door and made it hard to open it any wider. He made no movement and his eyes were closed. Fantômas could see he had covered himself in his blanket, keeping his airways covered- a desperate bid to prolong his survival. There were pops and bangs as the fire gouged into the wooden furniture. The flames were vicious and growing nearer to the unconscious boy.

Despite its distance from him, Fantômas felt his skin burning from the heat of the flames. He quickly forced the rest of his body past the door and crouched down beside Armand. He wasn't moving. Fantômas wrapped the blanket around Armand further and lifted him onto his shoulder with a grunt.

Robur held the door open for him as he backed away from the inferno. He slammed it shut as soon as he slipped through, blocking some of the smoke.
Fantômas coughed violently "Take him to Champeau, I'll stay here and ensure this fire is extinguished."
"I'm in your debt. Thank you."
Fantômas looked up at Robur's face, and his expression was grim but as genuine as his wheezing words. He smiled from under his garb. With a nod, he said, "Go, your boy isn't in the clear yet."

Robur took Armand from him and hurried away from the smoky halls. He stopped only once he found the air to be clearer. As he lay Armand on the floor dread seized him by the gut. What condition would he find him in? Throwing the blanket from his body, he found him unmarked at first sight. Robur checked for a pulse. He found nothing.

"Armand?" he managed. His son lay still in front of him, red-skinned, covered in soot and dirt, unmoving. His bright angelic face looked tarnished and worn.

"Please... please, wake up for me." Robur waited, his body tense, moving the position of his hand. "Please," he managed in a voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't lose him. He had to be alive. There was no way he was willing to let his son slip away from him. Robur yanked open Armand's pyjama shirt, letting buttons fly, pondering on chest compressions. He put an ear to his chest, straining to listen for a heartbeat. There was rhythm.

That was when he saw it: movement in his son's throat! As if to prove it, his son chose then to swallow and began coughing until he woke up.

Robur heaved an almighty sigh of relief. "My boy," he breathed. He sat Armand up as he caught his breath. Robur kept him close, keeping a hand on the back of his head. Armand collapsed into Robur's chest, still gasping for clean air.
"It's alright, my lad. You're safe now."
Armand gripped onto Robur's shirt as he tried to clear out his lungs. Robur rubbed his back to help him.

"I've got you. Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," his son croaked.
"You're sure?" he asked, leaning back so he could see him. He placed his hand on the top of Armand's forehead, stroking his dirtied golden-brown hair. He was hot to the touch. The boy's shaking did not reassure him, but he hoped he was only startled.
"I'm fine, da, honestly... I just."

Robur sighed softly and looked at his son. Armand looked back, trembling, eyes red and growing damp. In an instant, Armand wrapped his arms around Robur's neck and hugged him tightly. Robur held him back, reassuring them both he was here.
"Thank you, da. For a moment, I. I..." Armand's voice quavered.
"Hush, Armand, none of that. You're safe now." Robur carefully let go of his son, moving Armand's hair from his face again and smiled. How much it meant for him to see life in his eyes! Had Fantômas not came to see him when he did…

Robur did not want to think of what could have been. "Come, I need to get you to a doctor. We'll get you some water and fresh air."
Exhaling carefully, Armand nodded. Robur helped his son to stand and made sure to support him as much as possible as they walked to find someone who could help. Robur knew it would be a sleepless night for himself but he did not care. Robur would never sleep again if it ensured Armand's safety.

Nothing in that room could have caused a fire. There were no candles, no exposed wires and the heating for the room was harmless- nothing more than hot water in the pipes. Nothing could have led to the keys being missing, other than someone's deliberate and malicious plans of searching for and removing them. Tonight Robur would stay by his son's side. Nothing would stop him from protecting that boy- his only child!

But tomorrow was a different matter. He would do everything in his power to find who was responsible, and he would break them.