Suffice to say that this chapter breaks three records: 1. This chapter is currently the longest in the entire story, 2. The longest that I've ever written in a week. and 3. It has the longest title (It should be 'Genius And Madness Are Two Sides Of The Same Coin'). To be quite honest, I'm still mildly surprised that I would update this soon, but here I am!

Heads up, since the lack of Stefano's background story in the game, I had to throw in some stuff from my headcanon, so I sincerely apologize if they are a tad weird or even OOC. Heck, I tried ._. if you have any objections or something, do tell me, yeah?

Lasty, of course I would like to thank Madeline Axelle for her usual support! I love you gal. And my brother a.k.a. my brainstorming partner. Thanks for all the help, baby bro :)) and of course, I would like to thank YOU for reading this story of mine. I've read all the reviews and I appreciate every single one of them. Thank you :))

You know the drill, read on, and if you like it, leave a review, if you don't, leave a review. Cheers.

The next time Kenna blinked her eyes, she suddenly found herself surrounded by a completely different, unfamiliar location that set her brows furrowed. Gone was the dim streetlight, the roars that somewhat she had starting to accustomed to, that gnawing feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach. Everything looked and felt different. It was as if she was had traveled into a whole new world out of Union and landed here.

Kenna looked at Stefano, he was still standing before her, obviously unaffected by the stir that she was feeling from the teleportation. He was staring at her comically, as if her reaction towards his mind-altering, gut-wrenching, illogical power was lacking grace. His head tilted to the side. Kenna, on the other hand, tried as her might to glare at him, but judging by how his smirk only grew wider it must have been a total fiasco. It supposed she'd better quickly recover from this mind blip if she wanted to intimidate him further.

"We're here. Come," he finally announced, gesturing his head towards an enormous object that she picked up on her peripheral vision.

Stefano then turned on his heels and walked into the direction of it, Kenna followed but instantly dropped dead in her tracks once she noticed what it was.

She positively could feel her jaw unhinged upon seeing an old Italian style estate that set yonder. The two-story residence was painted in a sulfur cream color that gleamed in the moonless night, some parts were discoloring that Kenna could only deduce from age and the beating of the sun. The windows decorated both the top floor and on each side of the main door where three arch pillars situated high above it acting as a canopy.

A white marble fountain sat across from the door where waters spurted from the top, falling down the pool beneath it.

As Kenna proceeded forward, she took the opportunity to swivel her head back and forth. Taking as much of her surroundings as she could. She noticed the vast gardens that surrounded the pathway towards the house; the neatly trimmed shrubs and hedges in separate octagonal mazes, various Roman sculptures that took up every ten steps that hadn't taken by the hedge and trees and lamp posts.

Was this supposed to be his safe house— or in his case, safe estate? Because, damn. Magnificent was clearly an understatement to adequately describe this place.

Kenna hadn't noticed that had been gawking at the sight the whole time until Stefano smugly pointed it out.

"Kenna, my dear, as much as I enjoy seeing you gape and all, but I need to dutifully remind you to stop lest a fly buzzes into that pretty mouth of yours. That'll be a terrible shame.

Kenna scowled at the man. "Buzz off, Valentini."

Stefano merely chuckled and Kenna rolled her eyes with gusto. This man was just impossible.

The two finally resumed their tracks towards the large wooden doors, she maintained a healthy distance as she trailed behind him. Her hands shoved deep inside her jacket pockets, Kenna took the time to ponder over this irrational decision she'd made for herself and the mission.

From a logical standpoint, what she was doing now could be clearly flagged as an impending suicide. Walking straight into the devil's bowels without any preparation or whatsoever was not an entirely strategic move on her part and it was sloppy. Very sloppy. If Kenna didn't make it out of here, if what Stefano had said was pure fiction and she got trapped in this sort of an amazing place, it would be another tangled mess that Juli had to deal with. Heaven knows she couldn't allow that to happen.

But at the same time, listening to Stefano's reasons and his knowledge of Union, the fact that he had approached her in good faith, Kenna knew she just had to take a leap of faith and come with him. As much as she couldn't tell just how long she could stand being around the mad artist, a job's a job. Kenna would like to think Stefano was merely a cog in the machine.

Kenna's state of trance immediately snapped once she noticed Stefano came to a stop, his hand on the door handle, he took a glance at her as she stood next to him. His eye was gleaming, as if a kid was hiding a big surprise that was about to be revealed at any moment. Kenna thought it made him look boyish.

Stefano took the exact moment to push the doors open wide, revealing the grand foyer that hidden inside and once again, Kenna could feel her mouth just fell freely.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Benvenuta, " he welcomed proudly with arms spread wide as they entered.

If the façade had been a pleasing sight to look at, the inside was just as beautiful. The foyer was splendid, obviously, with a large chandelier hung from the high ceiling in the center of the room, sparkling and illuminating the black and white linoleum floor below. Several furnitures and decorations scattered neatly throughout the room.

A hallway was on either side of the room whereas an imperial staircase laid across the room, a withstanding pillar with ornamental designs stood on each side to support the upper levels.

"Humble, huh?" Kenna muttered under her breath once she was out of his earshot.

Clearly, his definition of 'humble' simply either this level of grand or that was just plain sarcasm that had come out of his mouth. If his intention was indeed the latter, though, someone seriously needed to beat the sense out of his smug ass. While Kenna had to admit, the estate clearly reflected his personality well she only wished Stefano didn't have to be snobbish about it. Not everyone had been born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

Her gaze was still taking every inch of the surroundings when she noticed the upper level was barely visible due to an enormous red curtain that segregated the area. Kenna could feel her eyebrows furrowed. Curious, though decided not to press on the issue as she found a large painting of an old man clad in suit situated in the middle of the stairs. His sharp lines and countenance strangely reminded her of someone.

"That's my grandfather," Stefano suddenly appeared right beside her, his stare also finding the painting with a smile that she couldn't identify. If Kenna wasn't mistaken, she thought that was the most genuine smile she'd ever seen on him. "The illustrious signore Marcello Valentini, undoubtedly the greatest painter in the world. He was the Michelangelo of our generation, the Dali, the Rembrandt, the Picasso, his art was every bit of perfection."

Stefano looked at her and pointed his finger at another large oil painting in a gilded frame on the other side of the room.

"That's one of his painting over there," he said before making his way towards it, Kenna followed accordingly. "The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, a marvelous embodiment of a man's true love declaration to his wife. I'm sure you are well aware of the tale?" when Kenna nodded tersely, he brightened and clapped his hands once. " Perfetto, this was his own imagining of the said world."

With that, Kenna took a long regard at the painting; the lush green foliage and colorful flowers cascading from the sky. Frankly, she had opined his exaggeration for the painting was basically biased since it was his grandfather that he was worshipping on the pedestal, but looking at the artistry of it… it was remarkable. His style almost reminded her of Renoir's craftsmanship. Though Kenna decided to keep her opinion to herself with an approving nod.

"It's nice."

Stefano instantly looked at her as if she had gone mad or something."Nice? You call this masterpiece just nice ? Madonna, and here I thought you clearly understand art."

There was a sheer mockery in his voice, that Kenna simply groaned.

"Okay, fine, I was going to say this painting precedes all of the Hanging Gardens paintings I've seen before. I just don't want to inflate your ego," she admitted, purposely avoiding his gaze as she looked down at her boots. "Happy?"

Stefano merely shrugged. "It won't. I can't take credits for this chef-d'œuvre. But it's nice to know you haven't lost your sense of the true meaning of art."

"Whatever. Look, is that all you wanted me here for?"

When Kenna looked at him again, she noticed he was giving her an enigmatic smile. "Of course not. This way."

Once again, Kenna found herself on Stefano's tail. She let him escorted her onto the right wing of the mansion, passing through the corridor where she took the opportunity to take a glance at every opened door; there was the music room, the dining room that situated right across the hall and a glass-fronted door that she could deduce to lead to the patio. Then there was this fancy display cabinet with a mirror with framed photos, curios, and other various objects. Kenna absentmindedly felt her steps faltered at the picture of a young boy with the old man in the painting.

"Wait a second," realization hit Kenna like a train as she turned her head to Stefano, her brows snapped together. "This isn't just a safe house, isn't it? This is literally your house."

There was almost this wistful look on his face, then Stefano looked away from her, to a distant past only he could see. He answered. "No, this isn't just a safe house. This was my grandfather's house, the house in which I grew up in."

Kenna nodded, but had almost wanted to ask why. Why built a personal memory inside the STEM and what could he attain from it? But eventually decided it wasn't essential. She wasn't here to probe on his background, anyway. Let the man bask in his past, if he wanted. Besides, Kenna still had a piling list of questions in her pocket and she wasn't in any intention to use up her quota for such matter.

Off the hallway, to the left, was their destination. Stefano, still being strangely affable and gentlemanly, held open the door for her to what it appeared to be a study office.

The office was spacious and opulent with mahogany bookcases, stretching upward to the ceiling whereas a desk table sitting in the middle. In the back of the room was a billiard table with a red velvet cloth, a simple rug underneath and a chandelier— dripping with strings of crystals— dangled above it. The rest of the space was taken by two single leather armchairs, a custom-built minibar and a turntable with a built-in radio.

Stefano quickly ushered her to one of the armchairs only with a hand gesture. Kenna watched him sauntered towards the turntable as she sat down, feeling the plushness of the leather seat with guns discarded on the floor and the heavy pull of sleep that she had tried to neglect earlier. But running around Union finding clues and keeping herself save from whatever had tried to kill her for hours wasn't exactly a walk in the park. She had barely had a good night sleep before she came here, after all. God, she could use a little pick-me-up right now.

"Ah, much better," Stefano uttered as a classical music filled the air. She agreed with him, the song was oddly soothing, the sweet sound of the piano keys was like heaven against her ears. Like she could imagine herself out of this hoi polloi and retreated to somewhere peace and quiet. Just how simple such life could be, she naively imagined.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

When Kenna looked up this time, she found by the minibar. He was holding a bottle of wine in his hand.

"You don't happen to have coffee, do you?" Kenna asked lamely. He shook his head and she made a face. Well, she had to try her luck, right? "A soda?"

Stefano instantly grimaced at her as if he'd just bitten a lemon. "No, of course not. Who even drinks such tasteless and appalling beverages anyway?"

"The kind who has a tongue," Kenna retorted. "You know what, I'll just have anything you're having."

With drinks in hands, Stefano walked back up to her. Kenna muttered laconic thanks as he handed her her glass, their fingers brushing each other's in the process and she stilled. Kenna had no idea what to make of that. Then she saw him unbuttoning his suit jacket with his free hand and plopped himself onto the armchair with a faint sigh, his legs crossed. She, in return, simply rested her leg horizontally over the knee of her other leg and sipped her drink, trying to appear neutral.

So, here they sat across from each other, gaze intense, an uneasy silence settled between them except their heads were an uproar of overflowing questions. It was like a Mexican standoff in which their weapon was their mouths and wit, and Kenna could practically feel the verbal sparring just about to occur at any moment.

As if on cue, Stefano broke the silence.

"Now, that we're here, I promised you some answers, didn't I? And fortunately for you, I'm a man of my word. Just as long as you'll answer mine, of course." Kenna let out a tetchy sigh at his remark, Stefano merely shrugged innocently. "A deal's a deal, my dear. Although since I was the one who initiated this, I believe I have the honor to take the first turn."

"Ugh, fine," Kenna replied in annoyance. "Shoot away."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Kenna," Kenna smirked mischievously, obviously teasing him.

Stefano smirked back. "Nice try."

"Well, that's what you asked, isn't it?"

"I mean who are you besides your name."

Kenna merely paused, her bottom lip chewed. Her mind internally debating over the issue and whether she should trust her senses. But again, considering she had come to this point, to his home, to this terribly impractical decision, she might just have to suck it and see.

"My name is MacKenna Kidman, or Kenna for short. I'm thirty-one, dunno if that's necessary. I was born in Cedar Hill, a small and ugly town, by the way. I've resided in Krimson City for ten years now," she finally answered. Stefano, on his part, seemed mildly astonished by how Kenna willingly to participate in this play they were enacting.

He had just opened his mouth when Kenna interjected. "My turn. Where the hell is Lily?"

He chuckled darkly, his eye flashing vividly that said you are playing my game now.

"Impatient, are we? Come on, you can do better than that, Kenna dear. What's a climb if you simply rush the process and missed out all the spectacular views in your wake?" He sipped on his drink as Kenna began to mull once more. "Let the questions build up slowly. It's more exciting that way, after all."

"Fine, fine. Whatever. Who are you?"

"Stefano Valentini. I was born in a city called Florence in Italy. As you are well aware, I am an artist, but more into the photography field. I used to be a war photographer before I lost an eye on the battlefield."

Kenna was taken aback by this knowledge. "Oh, I… that's horrendous. I'm sorry."

"I've made my peace with it," he said nonchalantly. As if years of receiving such sympathy had bored him. "I'd like to think in certain times, sacrifices need to be made in order for us to attain the higher level."

"You mean like sacrificing countless of lives for the sake of your art?"

A low-fucking-blow. But again, Kenna had always been someone who didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. At least the dangerous grin that Stefano shot from behind the rim of his glass was not an indication of murder.

"Who is your favorite painter?" Stefano asked instead.

"Klimt, but Matisse runs a close second. Have you always been a photographer? I mean your grandfather was a painter, have you always taken this route?"

"Yes, he bought me my first analog camera when I was eight and have been obsessed with photography ever since. I love the idea of capturing a human soul, sights, things— even the most mundane and find the beauty in them, turning them into a visual poetry. Especially death. Death is a mystery, no solid pictures ever come to mind when you think of death. But with photography, you see it. The termination of a soul, how their skin withers away, their eyes roll back as they stare into their own demise. It's beautiful."

Kenna raised her eyebrow at his explanation. Never had she heard someone extolled death quite like he did. But then again, he murdered people for art, for fuck's sake. It seemed you would have to lose your mind to understand his.

"Yeah… well, I can't say that I understand about the death part, but I agree with the photography. With just a camera and film and you get to create art."

Stefano nodded approvingly at her answer, awed. "Exactly. You do understand."

Kenna simply dismissed his comment with a smirk.

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Yes, I have. And speaking of Union, how long have you been here?" she started to kick her question up a notch, he noticed.

"I've been here long enough to peruse every inch of this place like the way I read Shakespeare. Even before everything went spiraling out of control."

"Yeah, but for how long? I want numbers, estimations."

"My estimation? I'd say two months tops," Stefano answered calmly, shifting slightly in his seat as he enjoyed his drink once more.

Two months. That was one heck of a duration to stay in a virtual world such as Union. Kenna herself had never stayed for longer than a week, and the effect that came afterward had always been relatively strange once she resumed her daily basis in the real world. She'd tended to get confused between what was real and vice versa, like her mind hadn't had properly functioned for the duration of her recovery before she'd get the pass to jump back in the machine.

Imagining having to stuck in here for two months. That ought to drive someone crazy, she thought. Thought that didn't seem to apply to Stefano

"Why are you here?"

Kenna gave him a look as if saying don't be stupid.

"You know why I'm here," drawled Kenna.

"Yes, but you seem to hate MOBIUS with every living cell in your body. And if my memory still serves me correctly, you said that you 'don't work for those greedy bastards'anymore," Stefano pointed out matter-of-factly. "Hence, it leaves me with the question, why? Why are you here?"

She raised an eyebrow. Genuinely impressed by his deduction. "Jesus, Stefano, what are you? Sherlock Holmes?"

"Being an artist requires me to be perceptive of my surroundings, my dear Kenna. It's only natural," he replied smugly. Kenna stuck her tongue out as he chuckled. "And are those questions I hear?"

"Bite me."

"Hmm, gladly," Stefano purred lowly, his deep voice punctuated the word and Kenna had to suppress a shudder that clawing its way on her spine.

"Shut up. You know what I mean," Kenna huffed loudly and took a large gulp of the wine. "And I'm here because… because I need to do this. Because it's about goddamn time someone pulls MOBIUS down a peg. I ain't letting them fooling people anymore."

Kenna wondered if Stefano caught the sentiment behind her explanation, because she had certainly, carelessly slipped her emotion out in the open. If he had been anything but an enemy, maybe she could at least feel nonchalant about it.

But somehow, Stefano understood. It was apparent by the way his face scrunched up.

"Sì, I'd have to agree with you on that one.

"They fooled you too, didn't they?" She asked, her voice raw and surprisingly soft. "Used you for their own means and—"

"Mold you into something you are not. Yes, they did that. They think you are expendable, as if you're—"

"A pawn in their game."

"Exactly," Stefano finished with a deep sigh. He placed his glass on the side table and reclined on the leather seat. Kenna merely inched forward, her elbows on her thighs.

"Stefano, where is Lily?" She thought right now ought to be the perfect time to ask that. Heck, they were climbing pretty high now, alright? Or whatever the hell Stefano's figure of speech was.

Stefano looked at her, his gaze was steady and deliberate. And Kenna waited impatiently, her fingers drummed on the expensive glass. She took another sip.

"She's alive, I know that just as much," Stefano announced with minimal eye contact. "She's with her mother."

"Myra? But that's impossible, they say she's been missing for weeks," Kenna uttered incredulously that her mouth was still left hanging open.

This was essential. But then if Lily was indeed with Myra, how come anyone hadn't heard from her all this time?

All the while Kenna pondered in her seat, Stefano straightened his posture and stared. She certainly didn't notice when he shifted forward in his seat, extended his hand to her face, unblinking, to close her mouth shut. The leather felt absurdly cold on her lips and Kenna nearly dropped her glass. Her alcohol-foggy head was practically screaming What the fuck? with a whole host of anger that Kenna had forced to emanate. He'd just crossed her personal space here, she should be beyond furious right now. But no, she was just too dumbfounded to do something about it.

Stefano pulled back from her even before she could have had the chance to swat his hand away. His eye was still solely on her lips when he said, "Missing, but not dead. She's… not entirely herself, so to speak."

She blinked at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kenna spluttered, unaccountably nervous. She wondered if the question was a double entendre to his action prior or Myra.

He didn't answer. Instead, he asked, "Who is Juli?"

Stefano's question instantly pulled Kenna back to her feet from wherever her thoughts had brought her back then. And she immediately froze in her place as a sense of dread took place.

"What did you say?"

"Juli. Or Jules, those two in between," he waved his hand back and forth. "You keep talking to that person over and over again on that device of yours," Stefano then studied her seriously for a moment, his eye lit up with interest. "Your significant other, perhaps?"

"She's my sister, you prick! What the hell?!" She replied in clipped tones. She didn't even want to know how in the hell he could even come up with such assumption, but it made Kenna positively want to reach out for something sharp and hit him in the head.

"Perdono, it was just out of curiosity. I didn't mean to offend you," He raised his hands up in defense, humor— or was it relief?— overtook his features. "Was it your sister that you saw back there with the creature, I wonder?"

She ignored his second question with a wicked glare."Who is he ?"

"Fair enough. It is your turn now anyway. He goes by the name of Father Theodore. He's a MOBIUS agent— or was, given that he's gone rogue now, to put it mildly. I'm sure you or some of your colleagues would recognize him," he explained.

"Theodore? As if the Theodore Wallace?"

"Forse, maybe. I have only known him under the name of Father Theodore. He's dangerous, Kenna. I've seen how he operates, how he twists his words and wraps you around his blazing fingers. He'd trawl up your deepest fears and thoughts, and use them against you."

His voice was firm, though Kenna was sober enough to take the candid look on his face. This was personal, she ruled out. Theodore had done something to Stefano and obviously, it affected him in a great deal. But was it wise to trust a stranger's words— and not just any stranger, a murderer's words?

Alas, he saw the conflict in her as clear as the day. "You don't trust me?"

"Is that a question or…"

"I believe it's my turn, so yes, it is," he confirmed, and she sighed apologetically.

She couldn't give him the verdict now. Her head was just too overwhelmed by this plethora of information she'd acquired from him to think properly right now.

"I assume you want to include me in your grand plan to bring him down then?" she decided.

Fortunately, Stefano didn't seem to mind. " Sì. Though to inform you, at this very moment I am at a complete disadvantage. Myra has Lily, and Theodore happens to have her father in captive."

She looked at him, goggled-eyed. "Wait, Sebastian's alive?"

"He is."

"But why?" She quickly clarified. "I mean why did he take Sebastian?"

"Theodore thinks if anyone could coax a little girl to stop playing in the park and come home, it would be none other than her parents. And since the mother is out of the question..."

"Sebastian is his only bet."

Stefano smiled. "Exactly."

"And you're planning on getting him out for yourself."

His smile grew wider.

"For us," he corrected. "This is a win-win solution for all of us, you see? You'd get to finish your job, Sebastian would get his chance to save his family, and as for me, well... I'd get to finish my masterpiece."

She wanted to ask What masterpiece? Though chose not to press on the matter.

"But where do I fit into the picture?" Kenna inquired again, not understanding where he was heading. "Sorry, because the last time I was a part of your plan, I was the fuckingpicture."

He threw his hands in the air. "You won't let that rest, will you?"

"Maybe not," she teased. "And what makes you think that I would agree to affiliate with you anyway?"

Stefano sat back again. "Because I'm the only one who can take you to him. I know where he dwells and this place better than any of you, as you've noticed. You need me. Think of it, you can be Alice, and I'll be the Cheshire Cat. Your loyal, cryptic guide."

"Cryptic is the last thing that I need right now. And I doubt you're even loyal."

"I'll let you be the judge of that," his lips quirked up in amusement. "And as for you, I need your expertise. It's blindingly evident that you are a much-skilled fighter than I am, and your inside knowledge of MOBIUS could be more than useful."

"Sounds like you only want to use me for your own means," she grumbled.

"Look, everybody will always want something out of everyone. You can't deny it, it's just the law of the human nature. Some people would want to control you, manipulate you. You and I have experienced first-hand how those bastards fooled and crushed us. I'm having none of that anymore. I only wish to watch them perish," Stefano turned serious all of the sudden, his tone grim leaving no room for an argument.

"I have never denied it from the start that I wanted your assistance, Kenna. But in return, I'm willing to do the same for you. Theodore is not short of his zealots, and two is a better odds than one, don't you think? If my words aren't enough, I hope my action could speak for itself."

Once again, Stefano had a point. Goddamn if he didn't have a point.

"Alright, if I say yes to this arrangement— " Kenna placed her glass on the table and lifted her finger, pointed it at him in the universal gesture to dictate. " If we're doing this, I take full control of my own actions, you hear me? I'll listen to you, but don't treat me like I'm your goddamn PA or something."

"I have no intention of treating you in that certain way, mia cara. I promise you, " he gave an acknowledging look.

"Good. And I'm getting the girl and her family out."

"Duly noted," Stefano nodded his head solemnly. "Now, if you're quite finished, I believe there is one more room for one last question."

She tilted her head to the side, the way when a dog was confused. "What is it?"

"Can you trust me now?" he asked, his voice merely above whisper had the music was any louder, she might have missed it.

Then Stefano looked at her for a long moment, it was like he was mapping her face with his eye and it was intense . And he was waiting. Kenna had to hold her breath the entire time, but she stared at him back, letting his visage embedded in her brain as she thought of all the things he'd revealed earlier.

Obviously, only fools would affiliate themselves with the likes of Stefano.

But unfortunately, Kenna had never been the wiser one.