"I am disappointed."
Those words broke me. Something in me shattered, I felt my throat tighten, my heart pulse in pain, and my mind replay those words over and over. I had done a foolish thing that I deserved to be reprimanded for. I was supposed to be a commander, not a soldier to fight on the front lines. I had broken all my training protocols and lost those valuable lessons in my desire to see battle once more.
My private chambers aboard the Whitefire bore witness to a rare sight. My Lady had contacted me personally to reprimand me for my behavior. I had removed my armor and knelt before the holoscreen that held her holy visage clad only in a simple black robe.
The woman who had raised me, trained me, trusted me, spoke again. "You are one of the eldest of my daughters,"
A part of me was glad she was still called me daughter. Perhaps she wouldn't terminate me for failing yet. Even if that were the case I would not protest. For what I had done I deserved death. I couldn't meet her holy face, even though it was within my rights to.
"and I expect more intelligence from you. What you did was reckless and pointless. You are no longer a soldier, daughter. You carry my will and wishes as an example to your sisters and brothers. They look up to you, Ameila, Calus, and Renault to be examples."
She was too gentle with me. Her voice was too gentle and not nearly firm enough. I wanted her to lash out at me, accuse me, hurt me, injure me, and scar me as was her right. A failure like I, who gave into her passions, needed to be hurt, scarred by my Lady. Scars were eternal reminders of failures, marks to remember what behaviors must be sealed away.
"For your reckless charge into the enemy's front lines I have pulled your command. The Whitefire will be removed from the siege battlegroups and ferry you to me. You will retain your rank as Inquisitor. The book in your possession, you have been reading it, no?"
It took several tries for me to speak. Each time I tried, my voice seized up and made an unhealthy choking noise. "I… I have my Lady," I choked out finally.
My Lady made a thoughtful noise for a moment then snapped her fingers. "I see. That book is more important than you know or could even guess at. A great many things are recorded there that should never be known to those who never experienced the events. You will guard that book with your life and…you will read it all. That will be your penance. When you return home you must have committed it to memory. Your punishment will be secret knowledge that you WILL never share with anyone. You will carry that secret from here into eternity for your misguided action as a military commander. Bloodlust and warlust will not be, or be allowed to be, the hallmark of any of my children. That is a title left to other powers."
A heavier sentence couldn't have been placed on me. I would forever be a keeper of secrets of the Warlords; damned to never speak of them, never to confide in those I called brother or sister. It would be knowledge that many would slaughter entire sectors for and I would have to flee. Even when time and ages wore me down, when all other thoughts had been crushed from my mind I would have to remember those forbidden secrets. There would be no rest for me, every spy and assassin across the many universes would have my name and face. This was the price of my stupidity, the youthful foolishness I thought I had cast aside long years ago.
"Do you understand my daughter?"
"Yes… I hear your words and obey… mother." A part of me died that moment. No longer was I an Inquisitor or a servant of my Lady. I was different now. I had joined the ranks of the damned, doomed to be forever lost until time and space died. Even then I would have to hold my silence. The woman who reared me from my youth, trained me, taught me, cared for me, had punished me… no, she had damned me.
"I do not wish to do this to you. I never wanted to hurt any of my beautiful children in anyway, but I cannot overlook what you have done. No longer are you a child to be treated with leniency, you are a grown woman who must now learn the greatest lesson of all Anastasia; actions have consequences. I never wished to curse you, but… you have left me no choice. Return at home and we will speak at length in private. You will have questions and I have answers. Travel safely my darling daughter."
There was a click that told me the holoscreen had vanished and the device turned itself off. Still I remained kneeling. Dry heaves blossomed in my chest. I began to hiccup and for the first time in many, many centuries, I gave a sigh of despair. I couldn't cry. I wanted nothing more than to cry, sob and weep like any other. Anything to get this feeling of failure off, even if I collapse into my bed. I, who had seen hell and all its horrors, inflicted those same horrors and was widely regarded as a monster, could be broken by one woman who I loved with all my heart.
Slowly I rose to my feet and unknotted the sash that held the black robe closed. I gently slid the robe off, baring my nude form to the room. Looking in the mirror I saw my broken form. Where others saw the pinnacle of human perfection, I saw only failure. Firm muscle, smooth feminine curves were nothing more than illusions, tricks of the light, here a moment and gone another. The image in the mirror was a stunning woman, a rose in full bloom, yet I knew the horrifying truth. Behind the beauty, behind the body of an angel of the old religions I saw my true self.
That twisted and warped being in the mirror… that was the real me. Gaunt, and twisted into a form no man would ever wear, wrinkled and cracked skin no mortal would find appealing, a fake smile from an unnatural mouth shaped more like that of a bird of prey, hollow eyes that told of the secrets hidden behind them, the crudely shaped wings that carried me into the eternity of damnation, inverted legs covered in scales upon each was written a rune that I knew contained a secret, around the waist a simple cloth tied with a metal chain that attached to books cemented to my thighs, bands of black runes running over the top of my naked breasts, saggy and unhealthy things, that spelled the names of the lost and the damned who fell by my power, around my arms countless small gems glowing a sickly green engraved with the names of those who died by my hand, hands with too many fingers that ended in talons designed to rip and kill, growths of bone out of shoulder blades emulated a twisted sort of pauldron engraved with countless screaming faces, wailing all my immeasurable sins for all time.
That was me, the me without the masks and lies that made up my existence.
"Power amongst the wizards is an odd affair by any reckoning. A great many countries had powerful and ancient families whose history stretched back to the Dawn of Magic. The ancient houses still bore titles of nobility and their power was inversely proportional to age of the title. Many of the ancient houses were weak and dying in the modern age, but still the Purebloods clung to their power with ruthless vigor. The International Confederation of Wizards while neutered by the sudden departure of the North American Wizard Federation was still the battlefield of choice for many in Europe and Asia. In the halls of Geneva, Switzerland, the wizard lords and ladies vied for power.
A new group rose to challenge the Purebloods starting with the outbreak of the First World War. During the war a great many old families were lost as several Ministries and Bureaus of magic clashed in open war against long time foes. Many families had lost everything and the European Purebloods were devastated by the death of their sons and heirs. Then came the Second World War and once more the death knells of the old Purebloods was tolled. This era saw a new class of wizard take their position in the power elite of wizard politics. Common born wizards, those without titles, began to ascend championed by none other than Albus Dumbledore.
With new blood and fresh vigor the ambitious youngsters began to battle the old Purebloods. Old families that had long since lost their titles of power regained them, among them the Greengrass and Longbottoms. In spite of two world wars that left the wizards reeling nothing was done by the International Confederation of Wizards to safe guard what remained of their magical kin. This would lead to the rise of the Dark Lords across the globe, wizards and witches of great power who sought a new world and the restoration glory their kind had once had. By the dawn of the twenty-first century the last Dark Lord, Voldemort, was approaching the end of his rule of terror.
This last Dark Lord had done the greatest damage to the magical world since the Second World War. While most of the war against him was concentrated within the United Kingdom, a great many other nations where heavily involved on both sides. During the duration of the war several great families were extinguished. Black, Malfoy, Longbottom, and countless others across the globe were among the dead. Along with a great concentration of dark creatures in magical history, Lord Voldemort also unleashed the nightmare class creatures, constructs of magic and flesh, which claimed many lives. All of these factors have led the ICW to reform its methodology, membership and goals many times leading to instability in the world courts.
New comers with no noble blood, but many years of valorous service against the darkness joined the aging Purebloods delegations. This has served to create tension and infighting amongst the ICW, finally paralyzing it. Even with the NAF openly threatening war with the ICW unless their conditions are met, the ICW is unable to do anything thanks to the divisions in its ranks.
Thus concludes the reading from the sanctioned International Confederation of Wizards historical tome The ICW: The Truth, The Lies, The Facts." The fat, little man who served as the Chief Historian of the ICW sat down with a great many huffs as he slowly descended the many stairs that led up to the podium.
In the background Ron heard the claps and cheers of the ICW delegates and nobles. The fat man's reading had been annoying, but it had given him time to think and review. As the acting Warsmith his power would allow him to take military action without a declaration of war form his government or the ICW, but the breaking of the seal in Japan was more serious than the British could handle on their own. The Minister of Magic had insisted that the Warsmith address the ICW and implore them for aid before the British wizards acted. Much to his surprise the Chinese Minister of Magic had agreed with his counterpart and so Ron had found himself shipped off to Geneva, Switzerland.
The opulent and absurdly furnished waiting room was filled to capacity. There was hardly a space to sit that wasn't taken, except around him. Everyone wore their best robes of various exotic magical creatures. They would casually wear the skins of dangerous beast, yet the golden emblem of the Warsmith drove them away. Ron found grim amusement in that, but hated it. The Warsmith was supposed to be violent, uncompromising, independent, and absolutely deadly. Harry had created that image of the Warsmith during the war and left others to emulate his example.
The fat man had finally reached the bottom of the steps and Ron sighed before he rose. The crowd parted before him, watching, measuring and judging his worth. At the bottom of the steps a brief flash told him the ward, which kept one from leaving the podium until a speech was given, was activated. Taking a moment he smoothed out his formal dragon hide robes, dyed a deep blood red with gold trim. His wand had been confiscated by security, but hanging from the gold embodied belt were several knives, tools he had found useful during the war and kept as mementoes to the fallen. The day a mere security wizard who hadn't left his post in nearly twenty years touched one of those knives would be the day he went dark and slaughter wizards and muggle without remorse.
'Which might be coming if that lazy arse doesn't hurry up and get back," he growled as he began to ascend the stairs.
As he had expected the main hall was nearly half empty, a testament to the devastation Voldemort had brought over the course of two wars. Down the length of each side of the hall there were open galleries where wizards and witches watched in stony silence. He could pick out the old families at a glance, their booths were covered in gold and jewels with the richest fabrics money could buy.
In one he saw the Patil sisters and resisted the urge to give them a small wave. Every action was judged in this place and taken with a grave seriousness. A simple wave would mean nothing to the rest of the world, but here it was as good as declaring his allies and winning new enemies. The Longbottom gallery was dark and empty as was the Malfoy gallery which gave him some small measure of satisfaction. Neville had done the world a favor in permanently ending the pompous blonde bastard's life in front of the Great Hall during the Seige.
Ron stepped up to the microphone and pulled a sheet of parchment from his sleeve. Carefully he unrolled it and scanned his notes one last time. He would have to do the impossible; convince a room full of ego centric wizards to follow him into a battle against creatures who rewrote reality by merely existing.
"Lords and ladies of this honored assembly, I bring grave news to you this day. A great danger has returned from the depths of our past. Several days ago a previously unknown muggle group called Kabal of the Silver Twilight unsealed Witches Coven." He heard several cries of 'lies' and 'impossible' before he went on. "This event was brought to my attention yesterday. After meeting with my country's Minster along with the Chinese Ministry, we have concluded that I, as acting Warsmith, must take action to prevent the Coven from gaining anymore power than they already have. As such I have ordered the full mobilization of the British magical forces. The Chinese have also begun to mobilize their magic corps in preparation for a joint action.
Due to the nature of our foes we felt it was prudent that the world at large be informed of this threat. That which we call Witches Coven is a collection of powerful beings called Kanaka Witches. In 987 AD this Coven first appears in Japan. They wrecked havoc on the Japanese wizards, but under the leadership of a council of Japanese wizards, called the Nine Dragons Council, the Coven was beaten and vanished. The Nine Dragons vanished in 1003 AD leaving behind the Coven they were guarding. In 1674 the Coven returned to plague Japan. Without the unified leadership of the Nine Dragons the Japanese wizards were beaten, powerless, and alone. They gathered at their stronghold deep in the Kiso Mountains, the lost Senji Temple. The Coven attacked them in what is called the Senji Massacre. To be more precise, they were wiped from existence, every trance of their every action was removed from the time stream."
"Bah! Folklore and mythology! This is a waste of time!" a pompous, old wizard declared. The Sonorus charm carried his voice across hall. "Tell us something important or leave boy! You and your lot have done enough damage to this body already."
"The Chair does not recognize Lord Drasche of Austria. Debate has not opened on this topic yet. Please refrain from interrupting." The Chairman was the acting leader until a new Supreme Mugwup could be chosen, and Ron honestly liked the man. Darrian Rommel had been a strong supporter of Harry during the war against Voldemort. Darrian himself was well into hi mid-twenties, but the German born wizard made up for it with many years of experience across the globe. He had faced some of the greatest monsters and creatures of the magical world, hunted rouges wizards in places the governments feared to go. There were several big indications that he was well on his way to become a legend right alongside Harry. "Additionally, the Chair notes that this is Lord Drasche's second offense within the last sixty days. The Chair is obligated," Darrian spat the last word, "to inform Lord Drasche that another offense will result in his removal from this body. Given that he lacks an heir at this time the vote of House Drasche would be put under the stewardship of the Chairman."
Ron worked hard not to smirk at the fool of a lord, who now gaped like a fish. He risked a glance at his notes to see where he needed to go. The Minister had been kind enough to give him several different ways to sway the Confederation to his side. One of those styles was to make them fear the power of the Coven. "Thank you, Chairman. As I was saying, the Japanese wizards were massacred. The Coven proceeded to wipe out every trace of wizardry in Japan. To this day there is no magical world in Japan and it is overrun by false magicians and our ancient enemy.
There is now no strength left in Japan to oppose the Coven. The last time, it had only been defeated thanks to the sacrifice of a great Chinese alchemist, Yang Shou, but he warned in his writings that the seal could be undone and the secrets to unlocking the seal was broken into fragments. Now this Kabal has assembled the fragments and opened the seals. They are not in control of the Coven though. By all accounts the Coven is still in Japan, waiting for the time being.
This has given us a brief window of opportunity. The Coven has wiped out an entire branch of our people without mercy or even giving them a chance to defend themselves. Ours is the right of vengeance for that action, but we must strike now! The Coven will leave Japan and our chances to capture or kill them will be lost. Therefore I propose that this esteemed body passes a Merlin Resolution at once."
He heard the gasps of horror, the smacking of lips that made no noise, and the overwhelming dread at passing that most hated of all acts. Many of the older families were aghast and furious, if he judged their enraged actions correctly. The younger generations looked more thoughtful and receptive to the idea; many of them fought in the Second World War or were veterans of the wars against Voldemort.
"Who do you think you are?" an old woman screeched in a heavily accented English.
"Are you mad?"
"Monster! You just want more power!"
"Dogs should stay with their masters, English pig!"
"You upstarts have no place in the affairs of the world!"
"You overstep your bounds young man!"
Ron saw Darrian rise to take control and gave him a small nod. "SILENCE! The Chair will put forward the measure to vote on a Merlin Resolution within the next seventy two hours. At that time this body shall reconvene for a vote, then the floor will be opened to debate for another seventy two hours if the measure to vote on the Merlin Resolution is passed," Darrian intoned gravely. "All other speakers will be pushed back due to the nature of this request. This body is hereby dismissed for the session and will reconvene in seventy-two hours." There was a loud bang and the delegates began to vanish into the antechambers connected to the galleries.
Ron took a deep breath. The fate of this measure was no longer in his hands. It would take all the diplomatic skill that his Minster, the Chinese Minister muster enough support to convince members to side with them. His part in this affair was over for the time. In the end he had just been there to read off the notes, a symbolic gesture if nothing else, but a purposeful one. He really hated this politicking the Minister wanted him to do, even if it was a simple speech. He was a simple man of action, empathic unlike Harry who wouldn't bat an eye at the most horrible tragedy because he'd seen worse. In the end Ron Weasley was Ron Weasley, not Harry Potter, Warsmith Potter, Wizard General Potter, or Lord Potter.
It was a somber, cold and tired party that gathered in the entryway to the building. Harry had been surprised to find the doors unlocked and well oiled, they had opened silently when he touched them. When he had stepping inside he was blown away. The entire building was craved from ice, every step, every statue and minuscule detail craved into the banister. Everything was ice, even the furniture he had seen in some of the rooms.
The entryway led into a short hallway that opened up into the main chamber. Everywhere he looked he saw the gothic style of the cathedrals of Europe. From vaulted ceilings to the immense height of the columns that wouldn't have been out of place in any cathedral of Earth if they weren't crafted from ice. Dozens of massive windows of what he assumed where clear ice let in some small measure of light. Several grand staircases led upwards and downwards from smaller rooms just off to the side of the main hall.
As he scanned the ice and growing shadows for any sign of life, Harry felt the cold sweeping through his body even with the door shut. When he had first entered the building ahead of the rest of the party he hadn't explored the lower levels, but the upper levels were even draftier and the wind fiercer. In the end he had been forced to return to the entryway and wait for the rest. More eyes would be needed to scan this structure of ice for danger and shelter.
Lindy helped the last of mages inside and shut the metal door– Harry wondered if it was the only piece of metal in the entire building– without a sound. He would have also preferred a boom, just to break up the sound of the wind howling outside. Rising from the ice chair had had commandeered he addressed the Captain, "The upper levels are colder than this level so I'd suggest we head downwards. No signs of life either other than somebody spent a bloody long time craving all this out of ice."
'Who would build a place like this? Wouldn't it melt during the summer?" Nanoha asked from the bench she had collapsed onto, one arm supporting an exhausted Fate.
"I'd presume that this place doesn't experience summer like Earth does. It does seem convenient though..." Signum began before she rose and slid a sleeping Hayate on her back. "We should move to the lower levels as the wizard said. Which way?"
"Ah," Harry looked up and shook his head; he was more tired than he thought if he was getting drowsy already. "Head into the main chamber and take a right. There's a staircase leading down in that room."
The swordswoman nodded and left the group, her fellow Wolkenritter falling in behind her. A group of Enforcers, relatively unwounded he noted, hastened after them. Even with survival on the line they still felt the Wolkenritter were a threat.
"That sounds like a reasonable plan. Gather the wounded and we'll head for the lower levels and hopefully warmth," Lindy said brightly. "Cheer up! We're safer now than we were before. You're all alive still."
Harry saw most of the remaining TSAB mages wince at that statement. He had no doubt that many of them had lost friends in the avalanche and the good captain's statement stung. They were alive and their friends and comrade were dead or lost. Or suffering a slow death under the ice Harry thought as he headed for the main chamber. A brief glance backwards told him that most of the party was already heading for the chamber, but Nanoha was trying to gently awaken Fate and Lindy waited with the last pair of Navy mages. Sighing at the sight he strode over to the young girls. "Need a hand?"
The brunette nodded and he knelt down. Gently he brushed Fate's hair away from her ear. "One of my friends was similar. She could sleep anywhere and this was the only way to wake her up," he said as he began to blow in the blonde's ear. He heard a loud 'eep' of surprise, felt something hard collide with his face, and lastly, the cold floor on his back.
"Wa! What happened?" Fate whined then touched her face. "Why does my face hurt?" she asked, her voice was filled with enough innocence that Harry swore it should be illegal.
Nanoha was smiling and giggling at the sprawled out wizard and her confused friend. Soon her giggles turned to open laughter and he heard Lindy chortle somewhere in the background as he nursed the side of his face. The blonde had hit him square on the cheek at speeds he wasn't sure the human head could rotate at until now. "Bloody hell girl! You went from zero to hundred and eighty in no time flat. I think my jaw is dislocated though," he said more to himself.
Fate's eyes grew wide. "Wh-what did you do to me?"
He wasn't sure why those red eyes shone with fear. Red eyes? That's not normal and she's not an albino. Dark rituals maybe or something else? "That's my line, geez you hit me like the Knight Bus." He worked his jaw muscles of a minute, confirming that nothing was out of place. "Good, nothing popped out. The last thing I want to do is pop my jaw back into place. Again."
"You didn't answer the question!" she demanded, a bit of fear in her voice.
"All I did was wake you up. Consider yourself lucky though, the last person I did that for was my girlfriend on the last night we had together…" he trailed off as memories of that steamy night rose.
"Are you okay? You're looking a little red," Nanoha asked concerned.
Harry blinked and pulled himself up. "Ah, yeah I'm fine. Just a memory… a really hot, steamy, sten-"
"That's enough!" Lindy interjected before he could go on. "There's children present Mr. Potter. Watch your tongue and your memories," Lindy barked sharply.
"Wait, the last person you did that to was your…" Fate began then trailed off.
"Girlfriend, yeah. What of it?" Harry responded before shooting the Captain a dirty look that she shot back with equal ferocity.
"Then… what you did was… special… really special," Fate said in a small voice, looking down at the floor. Nanoha wore a blank look with a tired smile as she waited for her best friend to explain.
"I suppose," he said with a shrug. For some reason he saw pink in her cheeks. "Oh hell!" Now he understood. The gesture was an intimate action and the kid understood the implications behind it. He hadn't been thinking when he did it. Stupid Harry! Stupid! Just because she looks similar to her… she does look similar. Switch the eyes and I'd swear I was looking at her… No, bad Harry! That chapter of our life is over! That relationship is done and gone, broken, shattered. Ka-boom! Sha-boomed!"Look it doesn't mean anything anymore kid. That relationship is over and that… action doesn't hold anything special for me anymore. Got it?"
Fate nodded briefly, but looked unconvinced then, with Lindy's support, followed the rest of the group. "We should get going," the captain said as she passed them. She gave the wizard a wiry grin. "What's that they saw on your planet? Open mouth, insert foot," she said with a small chuckle.
Harry resisted the urge to rip his hair out in frustration. The worst part was Lindy was right. In all fairness, he had walked right into it without thinking. Sometimes he slipped out of the war born wizard and into the hero he had once been.
"Eh, I don't get it," Nanoha said spoke up. "What was Fate getting at? Did I miss the punch line?"
That stopped Harry short and he looked at the girl incredulously. "Can you not read the atmosphere?"
"Not really, how do you do that anyway? Nobody ever told me it was a skill," she replied a tried grin. Her every motion spoke of weariness yet she tried to maintain a smile. For that strength he had to give her credit, not many could maintain her demeanor in their current circumstances.
He just shook his head as he joined Lindy. "You'll figure it out someday. I'm not here to give you life lessons, probably the last person you want them from anyway." He turned around and glared at the two Enforcers who had fallen in behind him. Nanoha walked beside them, but he saw one of the Enforcers gently keeping the brunette from getting too close to him. The two Enforcers faltered from his glare, which he had been told was piercing with an almost otherworldly glow.
"I don't think so. I think Potter-san is a good person despite what he says. You remind me of my brother, a little rough around the edges, but a good person at heart," she said with a yawn.
Those words hit hard and cut deep, but he kept walking. This little girl didn't know half of the things he had done in the darkest days. Most of the things he had faced would have killed a lesser man, and driven the rest to madness. In those dark days he had done things that would never be forgiven, needless things that he had felt were needed, yet this girl thought he was good at heart. My heart is a black twisted little thing and nothing more. That's what the magical world wanted of me and I gave it to them. I thought all my good traits were gone, twisted perversions of their former selves. "Why's that, dare I ask? How am I a good person?"
"Well, you helped beat the defense program and you haven't tried to hurt us, but it's your eyes. You don't hate everyone, but you've given into what ever you have fought and you want to rest. Plus I think you wanted to test us to, so you attacked Fate and Signum."
He bit the inside of his lip hard in shock, trying to maintain a blank face. She hadn't spoken as a regular nine year old would, but as a girl with real world experience. He didn't respond to that, he couldn't without betraying his shock. The girl had a dangerously keen insight into others that would be troublesome if he had to fight her in a duel to the death. In time she would be able to deconstruct her opponents motives and state of mind within a few moments after the first strikes.
"She's a sharp one," Lindy said quietly to him as they walked down the ice staircase. The ice was strangely enough not slick, and almost had the texture of concrete. Fate had left the captain's support in favor of her best friend. He saw them whispering, but didn't care. It was child's talk no doubt.
"Dangerous," he replied, equally quiet.
The green haired captain nodded. "For sure, but I expect great things from her. She will change many things when she comes into her own. That I know for sure."
The strangest thing was that Harry couldn't disagree with her. There were people who crafted great destinies and then there were those with great destinies. He had seen them; unlikely heroes who rose up in a moment and seized the day. More often than not they had died performing their brief heroic stunt. For that reason he avoided the mad, yet heroic stunts some people had wanted him to do. One did not fight a Dark Lord with a dramatic crack of lighting then summoning the wrath of the elements to annihilate their enemy, only to cry in the end over the dead on both sides. He fought to survive, to live and win by any means necessary. If that meant summoning another poor sap to take the spell for him or better yet, letting them willingly sacrifice themselves, then he would do it.
"Heroes die, and live on in song and story. Legends never die and live," he reminded himself quietly, but not nearly quiet enough. Lindy overheard him and gave him an odd look before he rounded the corner to the landing.
"Fascinating… truly fascinating…" Jail mused as he watched the birth of a new age. The first of his cyborgs, not the generation zero models, were ready to be awoken. The systems were original, based upon his personal research and far more powerful than the original programming that the others had used.
Floating nude in the tank before him was himself; albeit a female clone. Eyes closed, the clone gently bobbed up and down in the viscous embryonic fluid he had derived as an insulator. There was a faint glow for the embryonic fluid, a side effect of the compounds used to keep the clone alive, casting the small room in eerie shadows of green and black.
The female clone was covered in small patches containing nodes connected to tiny drills buried into her body. Those would allow him to make the last adjustments to her Inherent System that had been giving him trouble over the last few days. She would be needed for the next step of his plan. He needed a processor whom he could trust, and who better to trust than himself.
"Uno, that's a good name. First of a new age, first birth of my chosen ones... yes, Uno is appropriate." He opened a holoscreen that fizzed for a moment then cleared. "Unfortunate, it seems the relay is covered by snow again."
Despite the fizzing and somewhat hazy screen he went to work. A hypodermic needle descended into the tank from a mechanical arm attached to the tank's lid. With a deft hand he directed the arm towards one of the node near her heart. The tiny lights on the node light up as the he guided the needle in. He quickly activated the sealant to secure the needle in place. The lights on the node turned red to signal the sealant had secured the delicate needle. A few more swift strokes across the screen and the clear fluid began to flow into Uno.
Golden eyes shot open with wide eyed panic and fear of the unknown. "It's all right my dear," Jail lovingly reassured her over an internal speaker. "Don't panic." She was beautiful, a magnificent blend of old skills and his genius. Never had a more perfect being been born than this clone of himself.
Despite his words the clone began to trash about. The hookups to the nodes of her head snapped as she jerked around, sending sparks coursing through her body. He watched her heart rate soar on another screen. Her brain scans showed movement from the dream like state to an awoken one. The needle broke and the mechanical arm was bent by an errant arm lashing out. She tried in vain to kick, to break her way out, but the reinforced glass held.
"Calm down. Everything is aright. Breath in and out, slowly," Jail said over and over again maintaining a constant gentle yet firm tone. "You are safe, daughter. Nothing will hurt you."
Uno continued to lash out for several more minutes before she began to calm down. Legs and arms returned to her sides as she looked outside her tank with awe and fear in equal measure. The wider world awaited her, life beyond the tank she had long dreamt in was not just strange sensory signals or blurry shapes. She saw with clarity and heard with direction in mind, the source mattered. Nothing else in this place talked to her like this thing that called itself Jail.
It referred to her as 'dear' and 'daughter'. She struggled to access the information hardwired into her systems, but something snapped first. A barrier broke and information began to flood her systems. It was too great; the volume was burning out her systems too fast. She began to shut non vital functions; her eyesight became blurry and feeling was lost in her extremities. The systems were rerouted to support the processing systems as information was turned into knowledge, she could make the distinction between the two now.
The torrent of information began to taper off. Throughout the process she had one constant, a common denominator in the equation of life, the voice; the voice of Jail, the voice who warmly called her by terms of endearment. She felt physical cold, her body temperature was artificially low in this fluid that kept her alive, but his words perceived that coldness. A feeling of warmth blossomed in her chest when he spoke.
"My dear daughter, are you better?" Jail said.
She could identify warmth in those words. Her newly converted knowledge told her that affection and concern also came with those words. This Jail cared for her, therefore he asked after her body condition through implication. 'Better' did not denote what he was asking after. Did he want her physical status, her mental status, or her emotional status? She settled on a generic answer, or at least what her knowledge said was a general response to that sort of question.
Opening her mouth she was keenly aware of the fluid entering her body. It was an oddly unpleasant feeling, a cold slime slowly filling her internal body, taking up the excess space between organs, bone and muscle to directly oxygenate her bloodstream. It would take some time for the fluid to be expelled from her body, but her knowledge set did not provide a time value.
"I… … …" She struggled to find the words to convey what she wanted. "… … … am… …" She searched again, looking for the word in the vast language of men. "… … … cold… …"
She knew something else was supposed to go after the word cold, a direction for her statement. The recipient of her statement needed to be acknowledged. New memories were consulted when she realized every person was addressed differently or in a multitude of ways. Jail had called her 'dear' and 'daughter'… perhaps he had a hand in her creation. That would allow him to feel affection for her. It would explain the tone of voice he used. The proper term was found in her knowledge banks, a female would refer to her creator, who addressed her as 'daughter', as 'father' or the name once a certain age was reached or conditions met.
"… … … father."
"That hit the spot," Harry muttered as he let out a yawn. They had found a few chambers in the lower level that had ice doors and made a small camp. It wasn't comfortable by any means. The ice furniture was cold and, just like real furniture, it was comfortable to sleep on the chairs.
It was clear by the set up how the party was divided. The Navy mages had seized the largest room for themselves, leaving the Enforcers to contend with a smaller room. Naturally, the witnesses were placed with the Navy mages, and the so called prisoners were left with the Enforcers, but he knew there wasn't enough of these Enforcers to stop him if he wanted to leave.
He was far above them in power, and while they were weak, he would only grow stronger. For those who suffered the burden of time there was no escape. He no longer moved like they did. He moved along with them, yet stood apart as a singularly unique being. Time would not slow his mana recovery and that had been Voldemort's undoing. The fool of a Dark Lord sought to outlast him, thinking his reserves as the elder would allow him to outlast a newly christen Master of the Hollows, and paid for his folly with death beyond death. Harry went a step further in the battle to ensure that never would the Dark Lord be reborn and obliterated every trace of the vile and shattered soul. Azriel had feasted on the Dark Lord's forever with gluttonous hunger.
Cutting down the Enforcers would be an easy task, but then he would have to contend with the captain. Lindy was powerful and thus a danger to him; her power was ripe and potent when he compared it to the three girls. He rose and put aside any thoughts of killing. It was pointless, even though the deaths might sate Azriel's growing hunger.
He stood and stretched, rolling his shoulder to work out the kinks. The knee jerk reaction of the Enforcer duo watching him intently made him give them a disapproving glare. They wouldn't know how to guard a prisoner properly if he gave them the book on it. They should have never let him have Azriel back. ~Azriel, have you completed the scan?~
~Yes, Master of Death. No lifeforms were detected within a two thousand meter radius. An odd energy source was detected several levels down though.~
Now that was interesting. What would be emanating energy on this frozen rock? His curiosity had been peaked and restlessness settled over him. ~Alright, go into standby mode.~ He began to craft a plan, a plan to slip his watchers and for that he needed a healthy dose of chaos.
~As you wish, Master of Death.~
This place was empty then. No life, no monks living out their lives in solitude to serve some anarchic deity, no animals making their home in an abandoned building and that meant no food. They had a meager supply of food with them, mainly what they had taken from the Asura. The bottomless bag at his waist also carried his emergency rations, but he didn't want to break that open in front of any mage. The questions that bag might create were… unneeded annoyances. At least they had an unknown energy source, for all it was worth.
"Wizard," one of the middle aged Navy mages snapped as Harry drew near, trying to stretch his legs a bit. "Captain says to tell you that your food share is ready in the next room." The man gestured to the room where they had set up all the bulkier gear from the small packs the mages carried.
"Ah, thank you. Inform the Captain I'll be dining with her tonight my good man," Harry said with false cheeriness.
The Navy mage grunted and moved back towards the safety of the rest of his faction. The tension, the fear of the unknown, and hopelessness had settled over their party to stay. None of the sides were wiling to make the first move. The first move would be costly to the aggressors and a godsend to the defenders.
"Captain Lindy!" Harry announced loudly as he strolled towards the Navy mages.
The green haired captain rose from the side of a wounded young woman. She turned and addressed him, "Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"Please, as cliché as it is to say this, Mr. Potter was the father I never knew. Anyway, I'd like to speak with you in private if you have a few minutes. There are certain… issues you should be aware of," he finished softly when he was close enough for only the captain to hear.
Lindy raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Very well then. Lyon, please watch over Cassandra while I'm gone."
"Yes, ma'am!" a young Navy mage, whom he assumed was this Lyon character, said.
In short order they were in the hallway, several feet from the door. Lindy crossed her arms and nodded for him to speak. Harry leaned against the wall trying to be as casual as he could. It had tiny carvings of gargoyle like creatures in mid-flight he noted before he spoke. "We are not alone," he stated with as straight face. It was a convenient lie in the end, but he couldn't keep sporting lies off forever.
"What?" Lindy hissed in surprise. "Explain."
Her green eyes were ready to judge his next words, ready to call him in his lie. "I'm not sure, but I had Azriel scan the area while I rested. There is something in the upper levels, something alive, not just wind and snow." Now he had to wait to see if she bought it.
A pensive look crossed her face for a moment then vanished. "You have no idea what it is, correct?"
"Yes, I didn't want to say anything in there." He gestured back into the room full of mages. "The last thing your people need is another stressor. If I announced this then I'm sure a fight would break out."
"Then I'll get a team together and go find it. Do you have any idea where it is?"
"Unknown, I'd assume the other staircase off the main chamber leads upwards, but beyond that…" he shrugged.
Her eyes grew harder as the captain reinforced her resolve. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Please return to your room and wait." Without waiting she swept past him, a determined step in her stride.
She had bought it completely. He was sending her off on a wild goose chase for his own selfish purposes. A part of him told him he should feel bad about it, but it was the least the TSAB deserved. As a person, Lindy was likable enough, but she's with the TSAB, the enemy of his kind, or what had been his kind. He followed after the good captain a few moments later and reentered a room gone mad.
Madness had taken over. Mages scurried to and fro. Devices were armed, packs grabbed, arguments fought, and best of all, no one was watching him. Carefully and with a number of near hits from errant staves and packs, he made his way back to the room he had fallen asleep in.
It would be easier to slip out that door and vanish than the other in the other room. He had to reenter the Navy mages room in order to maintain the illusion he was still around. The prisoner room, as he started to call the place, was exactly as he had hoped. Most of the Enforcers had left the room leaving only four, two by each door.
Signum had laid out Hayate on an ice bench and taken her post against the wall near the girl's head. The rest of the Wolkenritter had gathered around the girl. He was ready to move into stage two of his escape plan. Walking over to Signum he slid down beside the motionless Knight. He felt her eyes tracking, judging his intentions.
"How's the girl doing?" he asked casually.
"Fine," Signum replied gruffly. ~What do want?~
He resisted the urge to smirk; the Knight understood his intentions and had justified the cost of opening a telepathic line. "That's good to hear. We wouldn't want her to fall sick." ~I need your help.~
"Indeed. In our current situation illness is a trial we do not need." ~ Explain.~
~There's an unknown energy source below. I need you to distract guards so I can investigate.~ "Oh that reminds me. They were handing out rations, but it appears something else has happened." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the uneasy motions of the Enforcers. They were curious and curiosity would overwhelm them soon enough.
"You have a point. Have you eaten yet?" ~Very well, I will aid you this time.~ Signum wasted no time. She turned to Hayate and gently shook her by the shoulder. "Hayate, time to wake up."
The brunette made some kind of epping noise as her eyes opened. "Signum why aren't you in your bunny costume?" she muttered drowsily. "This isn't the Moulin." Her disappointment was evident as she looked around a few times and blinked away the sleep.
The girl was amusing to watch wake up. What her dreams were and where they took place he had no wish to know, though one thing did create a very pleasant image, Signum in a bunny suit. He had to hand to it to those crazy Americans; the bunny image would never be the same again. The idea was very appealing; the swordswoman had the body for it, and a very nice body at that. Perhaps one day…
Perhaps it was her skill that drew him to her. Perhaps the fact that she could outclass him in swords and that brought a certain sense of fear of what could be done to him. If he were any mortal he might fear a death by the Knight, but now it only served to enthrall him, making him yearn to walk close to the edge. Azriel had informed that the regeneration process could be painless or pure agony depending upon how much damage had to be undone. Somehow he knew that regeneration from charred ashes would be beyond any agony suffered by a mortal throughout all of history. He really didn't want to find out, but for the price of seeing her in the drool worthy outfit… perhaps it would be worth the pain.
The other Wolkenritter were light sleepers, except Vita. It had taken both Signum and Shamal shaking the child Knight with increasing ferocity just to awaken her. The swordswoman asserted her position as the default leader of the Wolkenritter and got them moving into the other room, after Hayate was helped into her wheel chair. With Shamal pushing the girl they set off.
As he had predicted the four Enforcers followed them into the chaos. Within moments he ducked behind a few Navy mages as his Enforcer guards tried to keep up with the Wolkenritter. Swiftly he ran back into the room and made a beeline for the door. For a moment the door refused to open, his window of opportunity was running out. The Enforcer would notice he was gone and he had to be out the door before that, but he gave the stupid door a sharp tug and it opened.
"Wait!"
Just as he began to close the door behind him, the pink haired Knight appeared again. He gave her a cheeky wave and shut the door. He didn't need an ally in this little reconnaissance mission. He turned and carefully made his way deeper into the lower level, wary enough to stay against the wall in case someone came out to ascend to the main floor.
He heard a door open and saw the pink hair out of the corner of his eye, but continued on. He only froze when he heard a sharp whisper in his ear, causing him to real around in a panic. His sixth sense had failed him, but then again, perhaps it was because the pink haired Knight bore him no ill will.
"I will not let this thing threaten my mistress. You will show me where it is," Signum demanded.
Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, this Knight was dreadfully predictable when it came to threats both tangible and intangible. "Fine," he hissed back before he set off at a light jog, he was confident that the sound would be faint enough to avoid detection from the TSAB mages.
"Well, well, well isn't this interesting," Harry deadpanned.
They had found their mysterious energy source. After descending a few staircases in silence the pair had found themselves in a massive chamber. It dwarfed even the main roof on the ground level. The air was stale and a good deal warmer than even where they had camped. The room was still crafted out of ice, leading Harry to conclude that the builders must have reinforced the ice with some kind of everlasting ward. Here and there glowing orbs set in the walls provided some illumination.
At the far end of the room was a massive crystal floating a good twenty meters above the ground. It was a multifaceted crystal rotating slowly within a crystal ring. Directly below the massive crystal was a small dais surrounded by sixteen crystal rods jammed into the ground at even intervals. The small dais, beyond the rods, was flanked by two massive ice sculptures of great craftsmanship. The left was guarded by a hulking minotaur, clutching an enormous axe, its bestial head snarling at all who dared to approach the dais. To the rights sat a primordial beast that reminded him of a chimera. It was less bulky than the minotaur, but no less intimidating. Ice carved flames covered the things body, misshapen limbs of all kinds emerged from the icy flames. Its head was some hybrid of a man and lion with long fangs sticking out from its oversized maw.
He had Azriel in hand, ready to bring into a guard at any moment. There was something off in this chamber. The wrongness he had felt while on the mountain was growing with every step he took towards the crystal. He scanned the shadowy alcoves where more ice sculptures of gargoyle like creatures leered out at them. The walls along each side of the crystal had some sort of winged sculpture that ran behind the crystal. He followed the wing and saw the third sculpture; a massive dragon curled up behind the dais and set into the wall.
"It's not possible…"
He heard Signum mutter, but kept his eyes forward. "What's not possible?"
"That beast on the right, I know it…"
She paused for a moment and he heard a rasp sound like a sword being drawn, then the deep voice of Laevatein utter its setup complete message. A side long glance confirmed that her Device was out and ready, but the Knight had yet to don her Armor. ~Azriel, active alert. If any attacks are detected go into setup mode and activate my Jacket.~
~Yes, Master of Death~
"That is a beast from the depths of the Belkan Expansion; a creature born from the collective fear of a people who lived in terror of the Belkan Empire. So great was their fear that when we came, they fused into that… We called it a Nightmare, but the worse part is the faces that appear in it as it moves. Screaming faces, terrified faces, limbs that grow and retract at random, heads that lash out in fear…"
"Sounds like the Book's defense programming to me," Harry remarked as they drew near the rods.
"It was… or at least I think it was the template for the Book's original defense program," she admitted. "My memories are… very fragmented regarding the creation of the book. Though sometimes I wish I remembered my name…"
"Your name?" Harry was honestly surprised. A name was a core part of one's identity, without one a person was simple him or her, that one or this one. To lose one's name, to forget and know you had one… that would be terrible. It went against everything he knew of nature, even the non-magical beasts and plants had their names.
The Knight remained silent, unwilling to talk. A stony silence settled around them. Apparently talking about her name or lack there of was taboo. Putting that aside he looked closely at one of the rods. The rod was not untouched as he had first thought. Tiny intricate carvings covered the entire thing. The script, it had to be a language for many symbols were repeated over and over again, was beyond anything he had ever seen. It was like no rune he had ever seen, even during the duels in the Tower while death stalked the streets of London.
Every so often there was a break in the carvings were the crystal was untouched save for one thing. In a sphere there was always a set of characters or an image. Each rod he found had two such areas, one with the characters and one with a landscape. What they meant was beyond him, a containment field for this crystal thing sprang to mind.
"Do you have any idea what this is?" Signum asked from the dais. She was looking up studying the bottom of the floating crystal.
"No, I'd assume it's not Belkan if you don't recognize it," he responded as he joined her. "Makes me wish we had a historian or someone to figure just what this thing is."
Signum nodded, giving the sculpture of the Nightmare a wary glance. "It doesn't pose a threat to us. There is no reason to stay here." She began walking towards the door at a rapid clip.
"Agreed," Harry muttered as he hurried after her. Between the wrongness and the creepy Nightmare thing coming back to this room within the next two hundreds would be a thousand years too soon. He started to return Azriel to his pocket, when he froze.
Tinkle!
There is was again. Signum had frozen mid-stride with her sword out again.
Tinkle!
The tinkle of broken glass falling on a hard floor…or ice. It wasn't possible, but he spun around anyway. The crystal was glowing with a fierce white light. It appeared undamaged, leaving him wondering were the tinkling was coming from.
Tinkle! Tinkle!
It was getting faster, more often. Something was coming, something was happening and it had to do with the wrongness he was sure. That feeling had grown even stronger since he stopped at the first tinkle.
"We are not alone," Signum half whispered, but sound carried in chamber too well.
Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle!
"Azriel, set up! Blaz form!" Harry yelled. In flash his regular clothes vanished replaced with the black battle robes. He dismissed the shroud and raised his sword. Something moved in the shadows of the alcoves causing him to turn his attention to them. "In the alcoves!"
Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle!
Signum heeded his warning and raised her sword into a guard position. "We have to make a break for the exit!" she yelled over the ever growing symphony of tinkles. She looked at him and her eyes went wide in surprise.
Harry almost didn't want to turn around when he saw her go wide eyed. There was probably something really bad, really dangerous and wanting to kill him awaiting him. The shadows moved again, sculptures vanished, flashes of things he couldn't identify emerged from the darkness. "No time!"
Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle! Tinkle!
Despite his misgiving he turned around and knew he went bug eyed. The massive sculptures of the minotaur and Nightmare, even the dragon beyond were moving. It was like they were waking up, each flex of their muscles loosed ice shards from their ice bodies. The sculptures were coming to life and generally, at least as far his experience had taught him, that meant the sculptures wanted to kill you. The minotaur rose to impressive height and the Nightmare began to shift. The icy flames began to shift, move and dance across the sculptures body. Limbs shrunk and withered away only to be replaced with new one; it really did remind him of the defense program and he had to hand it to the Belkans for picking such a monstrous template for their own world ending monster.
The Nightmare was disturbing and a lesser wizard might have been broken at the mere sight of it, but he didn't, he couldn't. Azriel wouldn't allow that. She lusted for violence and that overflowed into him. Even if it was ice that happened to move, she wanted to destroy and kill it, give into the primal instincts of fighting.
"Back to back?" Signum asked her eyes darting around to watch the shadows and the massive sculptures.
"Hell yes!" Harry made a beeline for the swordswoman. In the alcoves he saw the things step into light. The gargoyle like things, in their hideous splendor had awoken and waited for some unseen signal to attack. Beaks and claws rasped on ice, yet the sculptures were silent. No shriek or challenging caw came from their frozen forms. "We're surrounded you know."
"Yes, it seems you have done something wrong."
Harry almost nodded in agreement before he caught himself. "What? Me? What did I do?" he squawked in disbelief. Why was he been set up as the fall man?
"Think about it. I have more crimes on my hands against the TSAB. The last thing Hayate needs is a TSAB officer being killed by something I set off. You on the other hand, they don't have a case against you, therefore you can take responsibility for the deaths that will happen," she stated with a deadly calmness, as if daring him to disagree.
"Throw me under the bus why don't you," Harry shot back. "That's cold, so cold!"
The walk to the bridge was long and arduous. Every step felt like a thousand miles. Soon even this ship would be torn from me. Nothing would be the same. This chapter, these past thirty years in the halls of the Whitefire, decades spent traveling across the multiverse to deal death to traitor and enemy alike, were coming to a too sudden close.
I didn't want it to end. I liked it here; here aboard one of the most powerful ships that obeyed my will I had made my home.
Duty would be to obey my Lady's orders. I had no one to blame, but myself. I chose to read that book, to deal with secret powers and knowledge, at my own free will. Now I would pay the ultimate price for my… stupidity. My artificial immortality had made me stupid, confident and stupid.
Why hadn't I considered the cost of my actions? I knew I once did, long ago. When had I lost that caution, that presence of mind to think instead of act? As I thought harder and recalled my battles I saw the pattern. I became bored, few things could kill me and most had already tried. In my boredom I had grown arrogant and cocky, I knew no limits to my invulnerability, though it was merely a perceived power.
"Lady Inquisitor!"
My mind in a haze I turned to face the elderly crewman who called my name. He was clad in a simple white uniform with black highlights. On his shoulder he had a gold loop, designating him a Captain of Internal Security. "Yes?" I replied. I didn't want to be disturbed. I needed my space to think and curse myself. I certainly didn't need the flash of sympathy on the man's face that was quickly replaced with cold professionalism.
"We've detected the Princess's fleet! They're on the way as we speak."
That got my attention. It had been too easy to break through the planets defense and her navy had been a skeletal fleet. They had us trapped too. If we withdrew to cut of the fleet, our armies would lose the orbital superiority and we wouldn't be able to recall them all before we had to leave. If we stayed then they would hammer our fleet in the rear. Derelict ships would fall to the surface and hit everything, but they would focus on the siege ships that were shadowing the main forces. The planetary forces could then sally without fear of our orbital weapons.
I didn't need a tactical layout to tell me were in a bad position. We were far from our home territory and nearest world held by my Lady was hours away at full power. "How long?" I asked hoarsely, my voice still wasn't back to normal even if the dry sobs had abated hours earlier.
"Our dimensional probes alerted us some twenty minutes ago. They are about four days out at their current speed, but our best analyst say they could be here in under two if they push their dimensional drives and logic engines to full power," he informed me sharply, giving me a crisp salute that he had forgotten when he first addressed me.
"At ease," I said blandly. Such empty words, did words lose their value if repeated too much? "It is safe to assume this is her Grand Fleet and chances are where it was it will have some Iron Knight escorts, if not a capital class ship. Maybe even a Wolf Cruiser or two, may our Lady's holy fire take them," I cursed. "They might even have a splinter fleet from the Angel too."
That was a grim assessment and I wished it was mere conjecture based on old intelligence, but it wasn't. The Princess's fleet had been spotted moving in the Angel's territories and apparently rendezvoused with a fleet of Iron Knights during its supposed six month tour. That was why this attack had been planned for now. The fleet was supposed to be weeks away, not days. We wouldn't take the entire planet in less than two days, let alone pacify it enough to establish a foothold.
The ISS Captain nodded his agreement. There was no fear in his old brown eyes. This was just another day on the job for him. For a moment I almost pitied this creature before me. Humans like him had mercifully short lives; they had no time to do what I had done, what now tore me apart from the inside. Time truly was a monster the likes of which my kind couldn't conquer. When you beat it in one area, it hit you in another.
"There is but one course of action for us to take. The enemy fleet must be stalled long enough for our men to dig in or establish a true foothold to setup the portals." I tapped into the communication node and opened a telepathic link with the node. ~Attention crew of the Whitefire. This is Anastasia Von Se'kual, Captain of the Devil's Inquisition V branch. The Whitefire will be moving out within four hours to perform a series of maneuvers in the dimensional sea.~ I opened a holoscreen and uploaded the fleet data with my password. Quickly I scanned the various battlegroups and picked the ones that would escort me on this mission. ~In addition, we will be joined by the Lasse, Remembrance, Al-Siz and Jarpaun battlegroups. That is all.~
It was done. I had cast my lots, damned though they be. Perhaps it was selfish to divert four battlegroups on my suicide mission. Her fleet would outnumber us without allies, but I didn't care. Caring was a feeling. Monsters like I didn't need feelings even if we were made into monsters. Perhaps I would survive to be damned, but I hoped not. I wanted to die, as selfish as it was.
If I could die in doing one last act of praise for my Lady, shielding her followers from the plasma cannons and crushing death beneath a thousands of tons of burning metal, then I would be satisfied. It was pity she would never ravish me though, though I knew why now. The reason she had refused my advances, that thing in the mirror brought the truth I long suppressed to light.
To hell with this and the devil with the rest; that was something my Lady had heard once and I found it appropriate. Nothing mattered anymore; I would read that cursed book and take its knowledge to my death. Just like she had implied, that was my Lady's way. She implied, not told. Some said that was her greatest fault and lead to a great many things that should have been avoided, but I held that she spoke as she felt, the honest truth. In this multiverse of lies that was something to be said.
A/N: Yes, I know that the "Can you not read the atmosphere?" line is wrong. Unfortunately the other forms of this sentence don't do the line justice, relative to the character so I'm leaving it as improper English. In other news, Noblesse Oblige has taken up the role of beta reader. The earlier chapters will be taken care of and replaced as they are finished so be aware.
So three more chapter, including an epilogue, before season one ends. Season two will focus more on Jail and the cybrogs as well characters how haven't had a lot of screen time, namely Hayate.I shouldn't have to point this out, but I will: Most plots and threads from Chronicles of Ascension will not be resolved over the next few chapters. They will be addressed in season two and beyond.
FYI: If it looks like Harry is using the TSAB Navy/Enforcer terms interchangeably that's becasue he is. At this point he doesn't know the difference or care about the difference, but it will be explained...someday.
Remember to read and review!