A/N: well, damn. This one got long. And I doubt the next chapter is going to be any shorter, but at least I FINALLY made it to the juice of the story. Took me a while!

Many thanks to Keyanna for proofreading!

"Hey, boys. Can we talk for a moment?"

As both security guards turn to glance at him, Outis isn't excessively surprised to see neither of them looks especially smart. Of course looks can be deceiving – he knows it better than anyone else – but it's still amusing how the average goon will always give off the vibe of having more brawn than brains.

"Sure. What is it?" one of them asks. Outis smiles.

"There has been a bit of a change of plans. Nothing major. You two are going to watch the stairs, right?"

A nod. "Yeah. We're supposed to send away anyone who tries to get past this deck. There's a rope to block the stairs and some sign saying there is a private event going on, so people should get the message, and elevators ain't reaching this deck. But you can never know. What change of plans?"

Outis waves his hand. "As I said, nothing major. But I'd like to ask you to position yourselves a bit differently – so that anyone who's coming upstairs won't see you until they're far enough into either hallway," he adds. He's confident that they'll do just as he says: Dr. Dote has given him complete authority over them. The chief of security didn't appreciate it, but you can't keep everyone happy.

The two men exchange a perplexed glance. "Uh... but what's the point? Aren't people who come upstairs supposed to see us so we can tell them to buzz off?"

"Oh, if people do get on this deck you'll certainly do as much. But you see, I'm expecting someone very specific to show up. A tall fellow with black hair and a white patch – he'll be hard to miss. I put a micro-camera down the staircase, and you can use it to see who's coming up without them noticing. If he does indeed show up while we're all upstairs for the auction, here's what I want you to do..."

As the Phantom – Harrison Fire – walks inside the lounge next to the casino where the auction will be held he's not especially surprised to realize he can recognize most people in there. He infiltrated many of the organizations these people represent, and he memorized their names, faces and roles to do so seamlessly. Terrorist organizations, for the most part... but also people with links to several countries' less than ethical intelligence, plus a few he recognizes as the lackeys of this or that wannabe dictator. There's even a tycoon the Phantom worked for once, before giving away his secrets to those who really pulled the strings.

Plenty of familiar faces, and hardly anyone who wouldn't love to see him dead.

It won't take much before they can satisfy that wish, he supposes, but before he goes he'll be making sure they'll get nothing out of this auction. He turns his attention away from the guests and glanced over at the other end of the room, where YggdraCorp's CEO and Outis are speaking. They're too far from him to hear anything over everyone's chattering, but that's not a problem. At one point – the Phantom has forgotten when – he had to pose as someone who lost his hearing and relied on reading people's lips to understand what he was being told. Though it hadn't been necessary for the Phantom to learn to do that as well, he had still decided to do so. He was to become that man, after all. That, and lip-reading could prove useful. Like just now.

Everything is fine, Outis is saying. Security is watching this deck and the one below. I found no ladybugs anywhere. No one is on to us. If the spy is in here, I'll know. Go ahead and let me handle everything.

But he's lying, there's no doubt about that. He knows that Blackquill is certainly on board, and he must imagine that so is the Interpol. What is it he's planning?

"Like it, huh? Told you I can make the best Mojito!"

The Phantom turns as a voice, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, reaches his ears. The Yatagarasu's latest persona, Yves Dropper, is currently at the drinks counter, mixing drinks and talking with the potential buyers who decided to wait for the auction to start with a drink in their hands. She's perfectly convincing in that role, talking with the guests and moving easily behind the counter, her gestures swift as though she's spent her life up to now mixing drinks. Not bad at all, the Phantom thinks, and approaches the counter.

"Good afternoon. May I have one as well?" he asks, and she nods with a wide grin. She's still smiling as she puts the Mojito down on the counter... along with a paper towel, which he readily takes. "Thank you," he says politely, and brings the glass to his lips. When he puts it down and brings the paper towel up to his mouth, he pauses a moment to see what is written on it.

Casino full of ladybugs. Must be Interpol. Outis knows – saw signal jammer. Know what he's up to?

Hell if I know, the Phantom thinks. Outis clearly wants YggdraCorp and its guests to keep thinking everything is fine... but to what end, he doesn't know. The Phantom brushes the towel over his mouth before crumpling it and putting it in his pocket. He takes another swig from the glass. "Not bad," he concedes.

Her smile widens. "So, is it the best Mojito you ever tried? Yes or no?"

Know what he's up to? Yes or no?

"I'm afraid not," Harrison Fire says with an apologetic smile. "But close enough."

No, I don't. But I intend to find out.

"They're getting inside the casino, shifu!"

A couple of agents have to hastily step aside as Lang storms to the set on the table and reaches to put the free pair of headphones on his ears. There is the unmistakable noise of several people talking to each other all at once and moving around, then a door closing and what sounds like a few chairs scraping over the wooden floor.

"Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention for a minute?" a female voice speaks up. It's one Lang heard before and one he expected to hear, though not the one he was hoping for. It's the voice of Dr. Ann T. Dote, sure enough. The CEO of YggdraCorp. He allows himself to smirk before he adjusts the headphones and listens even more intently.

"First of all, thank you for coming all the way here to see-"

There is a burst of static, so sudden and loud that is causes both Lang and the agent with the other set of headphones to wince. As the agent starts fiddling with the buttons and switches on the console, Lang rips his headphones off.

"They know," he growls, barely holding back from slamming his first on the console. He can tell his agent's efforts are useless: something must be tampering with the ladybugs. They'll hear nothing more than static from now on... and they haven't heard one single thing they could use to justify an intervention on their part. Without anything to go by, not even the slightest shred of proof any wrongdoing is going on, they simply cannot do anything. Even if they were to find proof by forcing their way in, Lang has no doubt those bastards will use it to have any evidence they may collect declared illegal... and thus impossible to bring up on trial. It's a scenario Edgeworth has warned him about, and now that it's happening it feels like a nightmare.

The bastards have pulled out their teeth with one press of a button, and there is nothing they can do about it.

"I take it they have taken precautions," a quiet voice rings out behind him, and Lang is abruptly reminded of Blackquill's presence in the room. He's standing near the door, apparently not at all surprised by the turn of events.

A frustrated growl leaves him. "Those snakes. They must have known we'd be here."

Blackquill smirks. "We know for a fact that this Ulysses Outis knew I'd be there; imagining that you would as well must have not been much of a stretch. If what the Phantom wrote to me is true, that eel is working for YggdraCorp."

"And yet he gave you crucial information. He told you about the Phantom's fake execution, and that something would go down on this ship," Lang counters, anger and frustration causing something in his head to throb. "It makes no sense at all. Whose side is that man on?"

The laugh that leaves Blackquill is one of the bitterest Lang can remember hearing. "He's a spy, Lang-dono. Spies know no such thing as loyalty, no such thing as honor. They only ever stay on one side – their own. Not to be trusted as enemies, even less as allies. You of all people should know that. If he's indeed my mystery informant, this Outis must have an agenda of his own. I'm not even ruling out the possibility he doesn't exist. He may very well be one more mask the Phantom has donned for whatever twisted reason. But those questions will receive an answer soon. I intend to find the truth."

Lang snorts. "And how? With nothing in our hands, we can't-"

"You can't. I can."

There is a long moment of silence, all the men staring at Blackquill. The technician has stopped trying to get the signal back, and his gaze keeps shifting from Lang to Blackquill and then back to Lang.

"... You can't be suggesting what you seem to be suggesting," Lang finally snorts. Does this lunatic truly think he's going to let him walk in that nest of vipers on his own?

Apparently, he does. "You're bound by international law, Lang-dono. You're here to officially investigate, and your unauthorized intervention or even mere presence without concrete proof of some wrongdoing would only result with endless trouble for you. Those snakes would get away with whatever they're pulling. But me? I'm not here with the Interpol. Technically speaking, I'm simply a passenger."

"You were allowed to board with us, by my request!"

"It doesn't change the fact I'm not officially here to investigate anything. I read the papers to make sure," Blackquill says, and that insufferable smirk of his is back. "I'm a lawyer, Lang-dono. I pay very close attention to fine print. The Devil's in the details."

"The pack that runs together stays together. I can't allow you-"

"I'm not one of your pack, Lang," Blackquill cuts him off, a sharp edge in his voice, causing Lang to abruptly fall silent. When Blackquill speaks again, the sharpness is gone from his voice. "Let's say that I, a simple passenger, happen to trespass on the two upper decks. Let's say that hear or see something that could justify your intervention. Let's say I tell you of it. Wouldn't that be enough for you to authorize a roundup?"

Lang narrows his eyes. What Blackquill says is all true – and if this is what he means to do, he's powerless to stop him. He has no authority over him. "Don't ask questions whose answer you already know, hawk lawyer," he mutters. "You know full well that would be enough."

"Then I'd say we have spent enough time jabbering. I'll be on my way; I'll call you should I find anything or find myself in need of assistance."

With a snort, Lang stands. He doesn't like this, doesn't like it at all – but he has no authority to keep Blackquill from doing as he wishes. With nothing yet in their hands, those blasted decks aren't even a crime scene they can close down to visitors. And even if he could forbid him to go, it wouldn't be enough to stop Blackquill. Not while knowing that this accursed Phantom may be there.

Him, and perhaps Shih-na.

The thought of Shih-na causes a fresh wave of anger to roll through him, but he can keep it in check, for now. "Our ladybugs aren't working. We don't know how much of those decks they got covered against us. There is no guarantee any kind of communication device you may have will work anywhere up there."

"Tch. Then I'll see that I return here on my own two legs," is all Blackquill says before turning to leave.

"Wait."

Blackquill pauses, but he doesn't turn back. "What is it?"

Lang sighs and bows his head slightly. "Lang Zi says: all men are brothers, and all friends become family. Give me no reason to regret letting you have it your way, hawk lawyer."

For a moment Blackquill says nothing; he only speaks again as he reaches to open the door. "... If the worst happens, regret nothing. I never gave you a choice."

As she slips inside the ventilation duct opening on the restroom's ceiling and carefully places the grate back in place behind her the Yatagarasu wonders, not for the first time, if being hopelessly stupid is a necessary requirement for security guards.

Yves Dropper was to leave the lounge as soon as the auction started in the casino next door, of course: as part of the staff of the ship, entirely unaware of what would happen on that deck, she couldn't be allowed to stay. The men of the security were sure to escort her, another bartender and a couple of waiters who had been in the lounge off the deck, to take on their duties somewhere else.

All she had needed was a bit of a distraction – a leg darting out just at the right moment, a waiter falling down the stairs to crash on the two other staff members, the security guards either going to help them out or laughing their asses off – and she easily disappeared from their sight, quickly getting into the toilet she had already seen while observing the ship's outline.

Of course, someone will definitely come to check the toilet to make sure no one is hiding there, but she won't be found in it.

The Yatagarasu muffles a snicker – this really isn't the right moment to laugh – and starts moving silently, sliding down the air duct until she knows she's above the casino room; she can hear people talking beneath her, and listening is all she will do. As they're unable to communicate with good old Deep Throat right now – bringing any communication device that could be traced to the government was considered too risky, with the Interpol in the way – she and the Phantom can only rely on themselves, and remember very well everything they hear.

She stops some distance away from the grate that, she knows, opens up on the wall right beneath the ceiling. Taking a peek from there would be easy, but it could cause her to be spotted. She isn't risking it, especially not with that Outis guy on the lookout.

Well, with that Outis guy apparently on the lookout. Truth be told, he seems to care a lot more about getting under the Phantom's skin than about doing anything in YggdraCorp's interest. After all, he has knowingly lied to its CEO over the presence of ladybugs in the room; she has to wonder what else he is hiding.

"Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention for a minute?" Dr. Dote's voice reaches her, and the Yatagarasu promptly forgets her questions about Outis' plans. She's there to gather information, and that's precisely what she'll do – listen, just in case something goes wrong and the Phantom doesn't leave that room alive. Should that happen, should he be compromised or worse in there, she's of course supposed to leave him behind and escape so that she'll be able to report everything she's heard.

But then again, she was never very good at working by the book... and with all these fancy gadgets she's been given, not putting them to use would really be a shame.

"... As the pictures plainly show – sir, do refrain from throwing up, we did warn you they were rather graphic – the body of whoever is exposed will start rotting in a brief time. How long that may take vastly depends on how the toxin is administered. It works quickest when injected, but if you wish for the Erysichthon to cover more ground you can use its gaseous form. In a sealed container, it can stay active for months and be just as deadly as the day it left the lab should you decide to release it. These are pictures taken during a test in which the subjects were exposed to a small amount the gas for less than a minute. As you can see, in less than a hour..."

As the explanation goes on, Outis holds back a sigh and leans against the wall. As he already knows everything about Erysichthon – he was never one to handle a weapon he didn't know as well as the back of his hand – their presentation interests him little. Of course, things are very different for potential buyers: they're all extremely interested in everything that is being said, obviously. Once this presentation is over there will be a short break to let them think things over before the actual auction starts. Pity that none of them is going to get off this ship with the toxin's formula... nor as free people, most likely.

Outis smirks and reaches to touch the pen in his breast pocket. It's obviously not a pen: it's the switch of the signal jammer that's currently interfering with the ladybugs the Interpol has so dutifully planted in this room. Shame that they cannot listen to this... for now. He'll interrupt the signal when it's most convenient, as a roundup from the Interpol is precisely the kind of distraction he needs – as soon as Blackquill is in his hands. If he understands the man as well as he thinks he does, now that the Interpol's hands are tied and no one else could possibly try to find incriminating proof, it's only a matter of time before he walks straight in his arms.

Metaphorically speaking, obviously.

Outis holds back a chuckle at the mental image and allows his gaze to shift to Harrison Fire's back. There he is, his old student, sitting right next to the CEO and listening to the detailed explanation just as the potential buyers are doing. Outis can't help but feel some measure of pride, even though he knows it doesn't change the fact his masterpiece is broken beyond help: he's played Fire's role flawlessly, utterly fooling everyone else in the company.

And even him, in a way. Even though he's known for a while that good old Robb was likely among the top tanks in YggdraCorp, he never had any reason to suspect Fire more than others. Only the trick with caviar allowed him to single him out. But now he knows, and the individual he once knew as Johan has no idea. He'll know soon, of course – one of the very last things he'll ever get to know.

The Interpol's roundup worries him little: he'll have already left this deck by then, with Blackquill and the lives of thousands in his hands, and there is no doubt in his mind that his old student will know how to escape it as well. He'll easily walk out of the Interpol's clutches... and straight into his.

Soon, my boy, Outis thinks almost sadly as he keeps looking at Harrison Fire's back. It will be over soon.

Even as he walks up the stairs leading to the first of the two decks YggdraCorp has reserved for its own shady dealings, Blackquill is acutely aware of how flawed his plan is. It isn't even much of a plan, if he must be honest with himself: it simply consists of seeking out the one person he was specifically warned not to face on his own – Ulysses Outis, or whoever in the blazes this man truly is.

It's a shame that he couldn't be honest with Lang about what he meant to do, giving him the excuse of taking a look instead. Still, it was a necessary lie to keep Lang from trying harder to stop him.

It is risky, he knows, and little more than a shot in the dark, but what other choice does he have? If nothing is done, whatever YggdraCorp is doing will stay unknown... and the Phantom may slip through his fingers once again.

As much as part of him wishes to believe what he's read in his message – that he'll willingly turn himself over to him – Blackquill can't bring himself to truly do so. The Phantom has broken his trust before, first as Bobby Fulbright and then as Robert LaRoche. His word is worth less than a dull and broken blade.

Spies know no such thing as loyalty, no such thing as honor.

Blackquill chases away the thought: this is not the right moment for him to indulge in such musings. He'll face the Phantom when the moment comes; now all he has to do is focus on making it to the upper decks. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could bring Taka inside: he would provide some much needed help. But he couldn't let him inside without drawing attention, and thus he had to simply get him to follow the ship from above, resting on its highest rails from time to time. While Taka may be of help should he face a danger while outside, in here he's on his own.

Athena and Justice would certainly be willing to help him, he knows, but this is the very last thing he wishes to involve either of them in. If this Outis is half as good as he seems to be, he must expect him to come looking for answers... and if he truly holds such interest, he will likely show himself. And, perhaps, so will the Phantom. Either way, he might find answers.

And answers are all he's after.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, Blackquill is more than slightly surprised to see there are no security guards to be seen. There is a small hall and then a hallway stretching in two directions from there – one on his left leading to the luxurious cabins YggdraCorp has reserved for its management and their guests, and the other leading to more stairs... which lead to the upper deck, and to the casino where they're meeting right now.

As far as he can see, there is no one around... and he has seen few things in his life that reeked of a trap more than this.

But if this is their game, then fine. He has to do something, and being caught is likely the fastest way for him to meet either this Outis, or the Phantom... or both.

Which isn't to say he'll surrender without a fight. Who knows, he thinks as he starts walking down the hallway leading to the casino, perhaps he'll be able to subdue whoever stands in his way and go face Outis on his own rather than as a prisoner. It's worth trying, he supposes.

Blackquill smirks around the feather in his mouth when a door he just stepped past opens and a gruff voice orders him to freeze.

"You know there's probably going to be some security, right?"

Athena gives Apollo what she hopes looks like a confident smile. "Don't worry, we'll find our way around that," she says, her voice low as they walk up the steps. They just got past the rope at the end of the stairs and a sign that reads 'PRIVATE EVENT - NO UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS', so it's obvious that the folks up there don't want anyone to intrude.

They did cook up some excuses to use if caught, of course. They're both dressed as staff members – it was great how Trucy was able to snatch those uniforms for them, even though Apollo's is a bit too wide on the shoulders and the sleeves are too long – and each of them carrying a bucket with ice and a bottle of Champagne. Well, the bottles are actually filled with water, but hopefully they look convincing enough while in the bucket. The plan is to claim that they were called there to deliver the bottles to Ulysses Outis... if anything because it's the only name they actually know, thanks to the Phantom's message.

It's not much of a lie and it will crumble if anyone bothers to actually check, but it's better than having to no excuse at all. Besides, if they're lucky, they may be able to avoid the security altogether... and then they'd be able to do what they have planned on doing from the start: watching and listening. Between the two of them, they may be able to-

A noise coming from upstairs causes her to stop in her tracks, and Apollo pauses as well. "What is it?"

"I heard something. It was like a thud, or-"

"You piece of – ow!"

"Hmph. Is this all you can do?"

This time what reaches them is a shout, by a voice Athena recognizes right away – this time loud enough for Apollo to hear as well.

Simon, Athena thinks in sudden fear, Simon is there and there seems to be a fight going on, and...!

For a moment she stands still, as does Apollo, but it lasts no more than a moment: the next instant they're both running up the stairs to get to the upper deck. The shouts are coming from the hallway to their right, so that's where they run... only to stop in their tracks once again.

Simon is there, and so are three men, all dressed in black suits. Two of them are on the ground, one of them apparently passed out and the other groaning and rubbing his head; Simon is standing, giving them his back, and before him stands a third man who's aiming a gun straight at his face.

"You son of a- don't make one more move, or I'm going to shoot that head off your shoulders!"

"Hmph. If you haven't shot me yet, then you're not going to. You were told to capture me alive, weren't you? I wondered how come they didn't send someone more skilled against me," Simon retorts, and Athena can feel smugness coming off him in waves. Despite the situation, it's almost funny. Of course, it gets a lot less amusing when the guy's eyes shift and he sees her and Apollo from over Simon's shoulder. His surprised expression doesn't escape Simon, and causes him to instinctively turn. When his eyes rest on him and Apollo, he seems to suddenly get paler.

"What in the blazes are you-" he starts, but he gets to say nothing more – because the next instant Athena sees the security guard turn his attention on Simon and raise his gun, ready to bash him over the head with its handle, and she acts before she can pause to think.

With a cry of warning – "Duck!" – she throws the bucket filled with ice straight at him. Simon ducks under it, but the other man isn't as fast. The bottle falls to smash on the ground, and so does most of the ice, but the bucket itself hits him right on the head and causes him to stagger back with a cry, his gun falling on the floor. Athena isn't going to give him the time to pick it up.

"Hey, wait!" Apollo tries to call out, but she's already rushing past him, past a still stunned Simon and to the man who's just starting to regain his footing. She grabs both his arm, turns and throws him through the air over her shoulder. A nice rough landing on the floor should-

"OOF!"

… Well, a nice rough landing on Apollo should work just as well to knock him out.

"Sorry! I didn't think you ran after me! Are you hurt?" she asks, bringing her hands to her mouth as Apollo crawls out from under the bulk of the security guard. If anything, the guy is now out cold anyway.

Apollo pulls himself on his feet with a groan. "I'm fine. Can you please... never do that again?"

"Nunca más!"

"Is there any reason for your presence here?" Simon asks, ignoring Apollo entirely and staring at Athena through narrowed eyes. "It's entirely too dangerous!"

Athena gives him a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well, we thought- hey, wait a moment!" she protests, folding her arms over her chest. "We just saved your butt! What are you doing here? Where's the Interpol?"

Simon snorts. "There was an unexpected problem that forced me to take the matter into my own hands. That shouldn't be of your concern. The situation was perfectly under control."

The guy had a gun to your head!, Widget chimes in.

"Tch. As you may have heard, they were obviously ordered to capture me alive; one of them would have discharged their gun on me sooner if that wasn't the case."

Athena decides to let the matter drop. "What unexpected problem? Why isn't the Interpol handling this?"

As Simon quickly explains them what has happened she doesn't notice – none of them does – that one of the unconscious guards isn't unconscious anymore... and that he's silently reaching for the gun the other one just dropped.

"... Imagine the possibilities..."

"... One could threaten an entire country with that..."

The Phantom isn't at all surprised, as he listens to the potential buyers talking among themselves, that the presentation got them even more interested in buying Erysichthon's formula. Any of them, especially the terrorist groups, could easily think of several ways to use the toxin... and none of them good.

It's a good thing that even if the Interpol can do nothing they'll all be taken into custody as soon as the ship reaches the American soil again, he thinks as he excuses himself to the restroom. Outis' signal jammer isn't close enough to keep him from using the communication device in his watch, and he's able to forward everything he's recorded in the casino directly to Proteus. It's more than enough to end YggdraCorp and make sure its guests are treated accordingly.

He's barely done sending when he hears a low whistle coming from the ceiling. He looks up to see a familiar face grinning down at him from the grate covering the air vent.

"Hey. Good thing I didn't catch you at the urinal. Did you send everything you recorded?"

"Just now. You heard everything, haven't you?"

"Yep. The record makes that kinda useless, but oh well. I'll stay in the ducts through the auction, too. Don't want to risk being spotted."

The Phantom nods. "Good idea. There is no point in -" he trails off when he hears something: steps right outside, someone humming and then the door starting to open. He immediately opens the tap to wash his hands, and he doesn't need to look up to see that the Yatagarasu has retreated somewhere out of sight. Just in time, too: Outis walks in the next moment, whistling. The pen-jammer is gone from his pocket, and the Phantom assumes he left it behind to keep the casino shielded from ladybugs while he's away.

"Mr. Fire," Outis greets him, sounding rather pleased to see him. He walks up to the sink right next to him. "That was quite the presentation. The buyers are all most impressed. I expect this to be an exciting auction."

Harrison smiles. "So we hope," he says. "I'm glad everything went smoothly. Dr. Dote was rather worried. So was I, I must confess, when that facility in Reijam was infiltrated. Do you believe those spies are on board as well?" he asks. He asks because Harrison Fire would ask, and because he's wondering just how close to guessing his identity this man may be. Outis smiles, rinsing his hands once more.

"Oh, I'm sure everything will go well. As for the spies, I know at least one of them is on board. The Phantom, as he's called. At the presentation, even. But not to worry – I know precisely who he's masquerading as. He'll be dealt with very soon."

The Phantom feels as though he's just swallowed ice, but he keeps himself from showing as much. This Outis may be bluffing, or he may be referring to someone other than Harrison Fire. He may be wrong... or he may be playing with him like a cat with a mouse. Either way, there is one thing the Phantom absolutely cannot do now – break character.

"Here, at the auction?" he asks, with the worried tone Harrison Fire would show. "My God – is it one of the buyers? Who is it?"

Outis laughs. It's a pleasant laugh, as always, but one the Phantom instinctively dislikes. "An old acquaintance of mine. You could say he was the best student I ever had. Good enough to surpass his teacher, if I may say so. But that was before they broke him, I'm afraid."

Student...?

"Broke him?" Harrison repeats, sounding rather perplexed, and he doesn't move when Outis chuckles and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I created him, in more ways than one. I made him what he was – which is to say nothing and everything. I was proud of him as I've never been proud of anyone before or since. He was my masterpiece," he adds wistfully, and something in the Phantom's memory seems to stir when he hears that.

My masterpiece.

He has no time to wonder further, though, because the next moment Outis speaks again and everything is suddenly clear – like he's found the key piece of a puzzles and all the pieces are falling into place just as they should have from the start.

"His name was lost long before he became mine to shape – but when he did, he was known as Johan."

It's like the flip of a switch, and suddenly the Phantom knows precisely who this man is. His name is different and so is his face now, but it has to be him – because only one person ever called him that, only one person ever claimed to have created him.

We can teach you better. We can teach you how to be invisible. How to hide in plain sight, leaving no sign you ever even existed.

A clear mind. No emotions, no mindless impulses. Logic and control. You are nothing – nothing but this. There is nothing else, nothing to conceal as we have to do. A clean slate. You'll be perfect.

I'm not like you, my boy. Will never be. But nothing keeps far from perfect people from creating a masterpiece.

Umber, the Phantom thinks, it's Umber – the man who trained him and whom he forgot all about until now, his memory fading into the mist that seemed to cover most of his life before the day he donned his first mask and stole someone else's identity. Now it makes sense, all of it. And this fixation on him being broken, his interest in Blackquill – is he referring to how he was caught, how he regained his sense of self? Does he blame Blackquill for, as he puts it, breaking him?

Nothing of what he's thinking shows on Harrison Fire's face, of course. He's better than that – Umber has trained him better than that. How ironic.

"And you say he was broken? How?"

Outis – Umber – gives a bitter smile. "It's a long story. Suffice to say that he's not what he used to be. That will be his downfall, and that of the one responsible," he says, and takes his hand off the Phantom's shoulder. "If you'll excuse me. I'll see you inside, won't I? As I said, this auction will probably prove to be exciting."

"Of course," is all Harrison says, and Outis leaves the restroom with a nod and not another word. There are a few moments of silence as the Phantom stares at the door, only to be startled out of his incredulity by a familiar voice coming from above.

"So you used to be chums," the Yatagarasu mutters.

"That's hardly a term I'd choose. He trained me."

"So he's been stalking Blackquill because he was jealous?"

The Phantom scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. He blames him for... breaking me."

"Hah! Weird, isn't it? A sane person would say he fixed you. Well, at least some," she says. "Do you think he knows he just spoke to you?"

"... He might," the Phantom says slowly. "But it changes nothing. I have to keep this up as long as I can. I'll be there for the rest of the auction."

She sighs. "I almost hope something happens so I can get some action. Like bursting right in and saving your sorry ass."

"If I'm indeed compromised, the protocol expects you to leave me to be killed or kill me yourself. Not to expose yourself as well."

"Pfffft...!" she snorts, but this time she can keep from laughing; all that leaves her is some kind of nasal honk. "As if! Do we really need to have this conversation again? I told you- hey, your watch!"

The Phantom looks down to see that his watch's screen is suddenly alight. He frowns and reaches to press a button – and then freezes, too surprised to speak for a moment. "Cykes," he murmurs.

"What? What is it?"

"... The tracking chip on Cykes. It says she's on the deck beneath us," the Phantom says, thinking quickly. What is Cykes doing there? Why is she there? How did she get past the security? "She shouldn't be there. It's dangerous. I'm going to see what's going on."

"Since when are you her babysitter?" the Yatagarasu asks, but the Phantom ignores her.

"You stay where you are," is all he says before walking through the door and in the hallway. There is no one in sight but the security standing before the lounge's door, and it's not there he's heading: he turns his back to them and walks to the stairs leading to the lower deck, trying to look as casual as possible. He only starts running when he turns the corner and reaches the stairs. He's on the lower deck in moments, and then-

"Is there any reason for your presence here?"

Blackquill's voice, coming from just around the corner, causes him to freeze – but it's only for one moment. As much as he doesn't want to face him now, he needs to see what's going on and how they got past the security. He needs to make them leave before they alert the rest of security. He needs to keep them safe.

As he silently takes a look around the corner, the Phantom isn't too surprised to see that all three security guards on that floor are on the ground, seemingly unconscious – and Blackquill is arguing with Cykes and Justice, apparently. Well, mostly with Cykes. "We just saved your butt! What are you doing here?"

An excellent question, the Phantom thinks, but he doesn't listen to whatever reply Blackquill may be giving: the next moment he realizes that one of the security guards isn't unconscious anymore and is actually silently reaching for a gun across the floor. Busy as they are talking, none of them has noticed.

But the Phantom has, and he acts as quickly as possible. The next moment he's around the corner, rushing toward them as quickly as he possibly can, just as the guard lifts his gun. Hearing the noise of his footsteps on the carpeted floor, Cykes turns just one moment before he grips the man's arm and snatches the gun from his hand. There is a surprised yelp from the guard and a muttered curse from Blackquill, but the Phantom is faster than them both: his other arm shoots out to grab the closest person to him – Athena Cykes – and pull her against him, pressing the gun against the side of her head in the same motion.

Blackquill's raised hand stills, and so does Justice's, when they realize that Cykes is being held at gunpoint.

"Athena!"

"Fire," Blackquill seethes. "I should have known you weren't as innocent as you tried to-"

"Quiet," Harrison's voice snaps. "Attempt to do anything, prosecutor, and she dies," he adds, pressing the gun harder against the side of Cykes' head. They obey, of course, for they have no choice, and glare daggers at him. Blackquill looks for all the world like he's trying to make him burst in flames through sheer willpower – but neither dares to move, not now that they think Cykes' life is on the line.

And this is just what he aimed for, because as long as they don't attempt anything he can keep them from being killed. If either of them tried anything now, the YggdraCorp men would shoot them in an instant... and there would be nothing he could do to stop it without revealing himself. As things are now, taking Cykes hostage to make sure Blackquill doesn't get himself killed is the only feasible option.

"You slithering eel," Blackquill snarls, his disgust evident. The Phantom gives a laugh, Harrison Fire's laugh, but there is nothing behind it: he forces himself to shut down all emotion and keep his mind clear.

"A sore loser, aren't you?" he mutters instead, taking a few steps back with Cykes still at gunpoint, one arm tight around her. He turns to the security guard who's still getting on his feet. "Get the others up as well."

He does, even though it takes a few moments for one of them to finally awaken and a few more for him to stand. He rubs his head and glares at Blackquill. "You're lucky Mr. Outis told us not to kill you," he growls.

Outis, the Phantom thinks. But of course this is his doing – he should have known. "What did Outis tell you to do with them?" he asks.

"The library over there," the man grunts, nodding at a set of double doors that opens on the hallway, only a few steps from them. "No windows, and a signal jammer is already in. If he showed up, he told us to lock him in there and guard the door. Weren't expecting the brats, though."

"... I see," the Phantom says, the gun still pressed against the side of Cykes' head. Emotion still shut down, he thinks of the most logical course of action. He needs to be back for the rest of the auction, or else his cover may be blown beyond repair before he can gather more information at the auction. It seems that the only way to do so is going along with Outis' plan for now, as little as he likes the idea of getting Blackquill get locked anywhere Outis can access. But on the other hand, he may be able to get him out before Outis has time to actually get there. Now keeping his act up and Blackquill out of the picture are his main priorities.

"Do get them in there, then. That kid, too," Harrison adds, nodding towards Justice. "In, or she dies."

Blackquill glares death at him, but both him and Justice do as they're told. Once they're in, the Phantom nods. "Lock them in," he orders, his grip on Cykes still firm.

"Wait! Let her go!" Justice protests, and the Phantom – Harrison Fire – snorts.

"I think I'll keep her with me instead. An insurance, if you will, to make sure you don't try anything foolish. Stay put, and I won't split one hair of her head," he says. He glances at the men and nods. "Lock them in," he says. As long as they're locked in, unable to do anything, they're safe... at least for a time.

"No! Athena!" Justice exclaims, only to freeze when both men raise their guns against him and the Phantom presses his own gun harder against Cykes' head.

"Stay where you are and she won't be harmed," he says coldly, then smiles at Blackquill – because that's what Harrison Fire would do. "If you try anything, I'll kill her. And the responsibility will be yours alone," he adds, and he has only a moment to gaze at the sheer fury on Blackquill's face before the door closes and one of the men locks it. He nods at them. "Guard it. Make sure they don't set foot outside until the end of the auction. I'll tell Outis you got them myself – no need to bother him," he says, not at all intending to do a such thing. If Outis doesn't know Blackquill has been caught, he'll be able to gain some time. He finally glances down at Cykes. "As for you-" he starts, but he trails off when he finally sees her expression.

She hasn't spoken a word in the past couple of minutes, and now he can see why: she's staring up at him with wide eyes, and the realization of what it is he's seeing on her face chills him to the bone. It's recognition.

In a split of a second, the Phantom knows he's made a grave mistake. Shutting down all emotions allowed him to keep his mind clear, yes – but it also means that, pressed up against him as she is, she could hear his heart very clearly... and she could certainly sense the lack of emotion as well, a lack that so far she only ever noted in one person. Only one. Only him.

"You," she breathes, thankfully too quietly for any of the men standing before them to hear – and the Phantom presses the gun harder against the side of her head before she can speak again.

"Quiet," he growls. "Please," he adds under his breath.

Cykes stares up at him for several more moments, eyes still wide and bewildered, but she says nothing more. The Phantom breathes a little more easily and looks over at the men. "Watch the door. I'll lock her in my cabin," he adds, and none of them says anything as he drags her away with him, down the hallway. It doesn't take them too long to reach the cabin; he leads her in, letting the door close behind them. Still, he doesn't let her go just yet. "... You recognized me," he finally says quietly, with his own voice. "I... feared you would."

Cykes seems to shake against him, and it takes him a moment to realize she's giving an odd, somewhat hysterical laugh. "It's really you," she says, her voice shaky. "But... the execution... how... why...?"

The Phantom sighs. "It's a long story."

"Well, a condensed version will do. Possibly after you, uh, point that gun somewhere else."

He glances at the gun he's still holding up to her head. "Do I have your word that you won't try anything stupid if I release you?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah, I guess. I ran out of knives to stick in your hands. That, and you still have a gun."

"... I won't use it," he says with a sigh, and finally releases her. She turns to look at him, but she still looks more bewildered than anything else. His lips curl into a wry smile.

You look like you've seen a ghost, he almost says. It certainly sounds like something the Yatagarasu would say, which is exactly the reason why he doesn't say it.

"How?" she asks again, wonder plain on her face.

He puts the gun away: he has no intention of using it on her; no point in keeping it out. She doesn't even seem to notice, and he realizes only now that she didn't really think he would use it... at least not after she recognized him. "My execution was faked. My skills were still valuable to... someone else."

"So... you never died," she states.

"... That seems the most logical conclusion, yes."

"So the execution... You knew you wouldn't... Everything you said, how much of it did you mean?"

Thank you. For... for giving me a name, for making me someone. Thank you for not giving up on me. And... I'm sorry. For what it's worth, and I know it's worth less than nothing, I'm sorry.

The Phantom sets his jaw. "LaRoche meant every word of it," he says flatly. "And LaRoche died, as he was supposed to. There is a grave to prove it."

She scowls. "What are you talking about? You are LaRoche. You-"

"Not anymore," the Phantom cuts her off, his voice suddenly colder to warn her not to press the point any further. And she doesn't, thankfully: after giving him a somewhat doubtful look, she turns her attention on more pressing matters.

"So... why are you here? Why are you posing as someone from YggdraCorp?"

"I and another colleague have been looking into YggdraCorp's business as well. We know what they're up to, and it is our intention to put a stop to it."

Cykes blinks at him for a few moments, but aside from that she's pretty quick to grasp the situation. Her expression suddenly lightens up in a smile, startling him slightly. "So we're really on the same side! Sweet!" she exclaims, hitting her hand with a fist.

The Phantom raises an eyebrow. "That's hardly a reaction I'd expect from most people," he says.

She blinks again. "Huh? Why?"

Because I killed your mother for one, the Phantom almost says, but he sees no real point in it. He already used that argument on several occasions to no avail, which has long since led him to the conclusion Athena Cykes is not a creature of logic by any stretch of imagination. "Never mind. In any case, I'd hardly say we're on the same side."

She shrugs. "Why not? We want to take them down, too. We're so going to kick them ten ways to Sunday!"

"I wouldn't say so. So far, you and the Interpol have been a hindrance."

"Hey, come on now! Blame Simon and the wolfman. I was only here for the magic show," she protests.

"I'm rather confident there is no magic show going on on this deck."

"... Apollo and I may have gotten lost."

"You're not even trying to be believable, are you?"

She puts her hands on her hips. "Says Mr. Undercover Investigator! Took your family hostage, huh?"

The Phantom scoffs. "That was meant to buy me some ti-"

"Maybe my mother? My son? Or, my daughter! Maybe it was all of them! I'm so sad and worried!" she presses on in a lousy imitation of Bobby Fulbright's voice.

"I was aiming to create mass confusion to-" the Phantom starts, then he pauses and sighs. "... Very well. Let's say I believe you."

She grins. "Great. So, uh... why did you hold me at gunpoint anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asks flatly, causing her to puff out her cheeks and cross her arms.

"Hey, you're the criminal mastermind here. Enlighten me."

He sighs. "If Blackquill tried anything, and I know he would have, he'd be at risk. I had to make sure that wouldn't happen. Taking you hostage was the quickest option; any other would have forced me to reveal myself, and I can't do it just yet. As long as he and Justice stay locked in there, they're safe."

And as long as Outis doesn't get to them before me.

Cykes hums and reaches up to toy with her earring. "If Simon doesn't cut down Apollo out of frustration."

The Phantom's lips curl in a faint smirk. "I wouldn't put it past him, but there is naught I can do about that."

She smiles back, but it's not one of her usual smiles. "So... this is all about protecting Simon, isn't it?"

He sees no point in denying it. "And you, if you'll allow me," he says. She helped bringing Robert LaRoche back from the void of nothingness he slept in, and tried to save that life in court. He cannot forget that. "I'll do all I can to make sure no harm comes to him, or Justice. As much as it's worth, you have my word."

She nods, and bites her lower lip. "The fact you're alive, he... he didn't take it well," she says, looking down as though suddenly uncomfortable. "He's looking for you."

"... I'm aware of that," the Phantom says, and looks away. "He was not supposed to know. He was supposed to move on. I never thought he would find out," he says.

Cykes bites her lower lip. "Are you going to... when this is over, will you really turn yourself in? I mean, I guess that's the right thing, but... it would mean the death sentence, again."

The Phantom suddenly feels tired, so very tired. "I don't truly have a choice. And neither do you, I'm afraid."

"What...?" she starts, but she has no time to say anything more before the Phantom lifts his arm, the one with the watch. A small tranquilizer dart shoots from the side of it and hits her at the base of her neck, causing her to yelp and reach up for it. She tries to step back, but her legs fail her and she almost falls. Almost, because the Phantom catches her before she can hit the ground.

"My apologies. I can't allow you out just yet. You'll be safe here, for time being," he says, lifting her. As he leans her down on the bed, he can see she's already asleep. For a moment he wonders if she heard his apology, but then again it doesn't matter: there will be time for him to apologize later, when this is over.

He has no idea that they'll both be on the brink of death an hour from now, and he'll have to choose whose life to save.