To Create Perfection

by Hikou no Kokoro

Let me tell you a story. It is about a man named Arthur Kirkland, who had been dreaming of working in BCWD, the world-famous lab in the World Domain where science is free from controversy caused by religion. He succeeded. But now he questions this "advancement." Can he save anybody? Or will his friends and enemies crush him first? Here, "In BCWD, Science is your Humanity."

8. Law 3

Hiya, Hikou no Kokoro back with another update. Luckily, this chapter was finished shortly after the last chapter was posted, and it's very, very fast-paced. However, the next chapter won't be the case. I'm having a seriously bad Writer's Block on how I'm going to go about the next chapter. I might make it another Theory Chapter (Y'know, those short chapters that are vaguely in first person, for those who haven't figured it out yet). Nevertheless, the next chapter might take a while to get up.

But anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia. It rightfully belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. I just own the AU plot.

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To Create Perfection

"It's better to have a thousand enemies outside of the tent than one inside the tent."
—Arabic Proverb

"Law 3: Replacements"

Arthur slammed his hands upon the desk. "I am absolutely sure that I cannot work with Mr. Bonnefoy any longer," he repeated. "Why can't you just reassign me to someone else? Switch people up?"

Ludwig sighed, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with the cap of his pen. "I'm sorry, Kirkland, but I just can't do that. We assign mentors by our judgement from your references and your ability, and we truly do believe that Mr. Bonnefoy is the most suitable to be your mentor. We can't just find someone who would fit to your personal requirements without, as you say, 'frustrating you.'"

Arthur leaned over the desk, glaring. All thoughts of courtesy had long since been thrown out the window of his mind. "I can take any mentor! Just anybody other than Bonnefoy! I am fully capable to adapting to any teachers; I have worked under the direction of many varieties of teaching methods. I think this would not be any different."

The older, blond man shook his head. "It's not that simple either." His blue eyes looked downwards for a moment, and then shot up to make eye contact. "I am completely confident in your abilities, but there are other factors as well." Then he stood up with a groan. The sound seemed to be more out of exasperation than exhaustion. "Look, you graduated much earlier than your time; in fact, you didn't even complete your last year before the university passed you onto us. And I congratulate you on that, and it just goes to show how talented you truly are."

Arthur frowned. A small feeling tugged on his side, and he didn't like it. His green eyes flashed with scepticism as his gaze followed Ludwig as the man walked around the room with his hands behind his back.

"But because of that, you were added on the list of interns at a weird time, and most mentors are still busy taking care of the interns they were assigned almost four months ago or a year ago." Ludwig stopped beside the desk. He stood with a stock firmness, as if he were some sort of ancient tree planted on the ground beside his work station to overlook all the papers. "And Francis is one of the only free assimilation officers due to the circumstance of Vargas. And I do prefer that we do not interrupt an internship term in order to switch mentors, thus throwing interns into another new environment and possibly forcing them to start all over again."

Arthur sighed, drooping until he fell back into his seat. "I see…" His scowl deepened. For an odd reason, he felt that he had been lied to throughout the whole session with Ludwig. "Then are there any free assimilation officers though?"

Ludwig fell silent. Wordlessly, he turned and sat behind his computer again. And then his fingers flew over the keys again, and he clicked a few times on the track pad. "There are two free assimilation officers. The first one is Kiku Honda."

"May I be assigned to him instead?"

"That wouldn't be prudent," was Ludwig's immediate answer. He didn't even bother to think twice. "Kiku Honda has never taught before, and he recently completed his training to be an assimilation officer." He peered over the monitor. "You'll easily work ahead of him."

Arthur pressed his lips together. From the sound of it, that didn't seem to be all too terrible. Of course not as ideal, but tolerable. Much more tolerable than Francis.

"And the second one is Sadık Adnan. But I don't think that's a good idea either."

Upon hearing the name, Arthur leaned forward. "How so?" he asked. He could almost hear Alfred's preposterous superstitions resounding through his head. How laughable.

"First of all, he's in an entirely different department, and he does no research."

Arthur quickly disregarded that warning. In the end, he didn't care where he ended up in BCWD, as long as he was working with all the prestigious staff. He didn't mind going into another department and working as some sort of anaesthesiologist or doctor or something.

"And second of all, he hasn't taken in any interns since six years ago. He has refused to take any interns at all."

"So you're saying that he might be incompetent in teaching as well?"

Ludwig took a sharp breath, and then he sighed. "No. I just mean that he would refuse you, and you won't have a chance to even get him as a mentor." Then he turned back to the monitor. A sheen of blue light lit up Ludwig's face. "In addition, I don't think you'll like his teaching methods either."

"How so?"

"His last intern was Francis Bonnefoy. You can probably guess the implications."

Arthur sat there for a moment, slowly taking the information in. He straightened up and clasped his hands on his lap. His gaze glanced left and right. Then he opened his mouth, but he closed it again. In truth, in one sad, sad truth, Arthur did not understand the implications. But he decided to reveal none of that. Instead, he stood up, stiff as the courteous gentleman that he should have been during the whole meeting. "Is it possible that I can switch to either Honda or Adnan?" he asked.

Ludwig rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yes, it is. But only if you can persuade them, and they'd probably make the arrangements. I have no real decision in the assignments of the assimilation officers."

And that was the answer Arthur had been poking around for. Inwardly, he grinned with triumph; he had every chance of getting rid of that annoying Bonnefoy off his back and start doing some real assignments and getting real answers to his questions. And most of all, Arthur wouldn't need to help Francis in whatever shady deeds his jurisdiction had called for. In every way, that was Arthur's happiness. So with a quick thank you, Arthur turned and walked out the door, going towards whomever he would meet first, either Kiku Honda or Sadık Adnan.

On his way out, Arthur saw Feliciano still sitting at his computer. The brunette was either enjoying his work or goofing off with something, since a large grin was spread across his face. But it was very likely that it was the latter cause. Dr. Edelstein stood at the corner of the room. He was staring at Arthur as the intern got out, mindlessly tapping his finger on an electronic tablet. As Arthur passed, he shot the doctor a polite smile and apologised for taking up some time from Dr. Edelstein's own talk with Ludwig. However, the black-haired man merely nodded and wordlessly walked into the office. So Arthur let the smile slip as he walked out into the hallways in search for either Kiku Honda or Sadık Adnan.

Luckily, it did not take much effort to find whoever this Kiku Honda was. Arthur was able to ask the people walking down the hallways, and they almost unanimously told him that Honda was in his office, which was on the other end of the building. A few people had replied that the rookie assimilation officer was in the area of the Land Control Facility, and the first person Arthur had asked told him that Honda was in the Medical facility. However, they did not matter, and Arthur presumed that they had not seen Honda walking through the hallways for quite some time. Thus, he walked in the direction to the opposite end of the building.

The walk was a long one, since the building was as wide as it was tall. And once Arthur reached to the edge, he realised that he needed to travel up two floors. But instead of taking the elevators, he took the stairways. With the amount of people waiting next to the glowing button, the elevator probably would take more time than simply taking the emergency stairway. And he was right. In only a few moments, Arthur was on the floor of his destination, and people were still waiting. But of course, Arthur didn't bother to check if his predictions were right. He just turned and went straight to Honda's office.

When he arrived to his destination, he took in a deep breath, straightening himself out. The plate nailed into the metal door was silvery; however, no name was carved into it. But he was sure that he was at the right one, if the little office number said anything. Then he knocked.

"Yes?" a voice called out, quiet and polite. "You may enter."

Then Arthur entered. The room was plain. But so were all the other rooms in the BCWD. No, instead this room was agonizingly plain, or, as many people would say, empty. Only a desk and a shelf-less bookshelf provided the room any décor or furniture at all. There wasn't even a window to provide additional colours to the dull white of the walls. At a corner stood an Asian man with a box in his hands and a stack at his feet. He smiled at Arthur and greeted with a quiet "hello" and a small bow. Unlike many other BCWD staff members, he did not wear the uniform of scrubs and lab coat. Instead, he wore casual khaki pants and a silky white dress shirt, but no tie. And his dark brown, almost borderline pitch black, hair was cut into a curt, bowl shape with fringes just touching his eyebrows and the back of his neck. An air of stiff formality radiated off of the man, disconcerting Arthur only slightly with the look of unreadable, brown eyes.

"Uh, hello," Arthur greeted with an awkward wave. "I am Arthur Kirkland." He stood there for a moment, and then he approached the Asian man and held out a hand.

"Ah, Mr. Kirkland, it is a pleasure to meet you." The man set down the box he was carrying and bowed again. "I am Kiku Honda."

"Oh, yes, it's a pleasure to meet you too." Arthur let his hand slide back to his side.

"May I help you?" Kiku asked. He seemed to have a heavy accent lacing his articulation. But Arthur couldn't quite place it. From his past experience with Asians, he figured that it was a mixture of either Chinese and Japanese or Korean and Chinese.

"Um, yes, yes, actually." Arthur felt much too tall in front of the small Asian man, who only reached up to Arthur's chest. He was tempted to bend himself at the knees so then the height difference would be smaller, but that would be quite rude. "I would like to ask you if you would be willing to teach me."

Kiku's eyes widened slightly. But then he smiled. "Of course. So you are a new intern, yes, Mr. Kirkland?"

Arthur smiled back. "Yes, I am. I recently graduated from BCWD University."

"Ah, I see. You have graduated quite early. Congratulations. It will be an absolute honour to work with you."

"Thank you." Arthur began to relax. His shoulders lowered. "I am sure that working with you as well will be a pleasure."

"Oh, no, do not say that." Kiku shook his head. "You will be my first intern. I do not think I will be errorless."

"I'm aware. But nobody is errorless, so don't worry about it."

The Asian man hesitated for a moment. Afterwards, he nodded. "Thank you." Then he turned and picked up the box again. "I shall do the paperwork and make arrangements for you in a moment. First, I must finish packing."

Arthur inwardly cheered. Honda seemed to have the perfect personality and outlook, acting out of careful tact and proper opinions. He was so much unlike the "despicable" Francis Bonnefoy, who didn't hesitate to even think before doing something. In every way, Arthur had scored a jackpot. He was finally getting away from that Bonnefoy, and trading off to learn under a much better teacher. Sure, Honda was obviously new to the duties of the assimilation officer, but Arthur was certain that Honda would adapt within a month, given by Honda's persona.

With a widening smile, Arthur reached out to Kiku for the box. "Oh, let me help you," he offered.

"No, it is fine." Kiku turned and pulled the box out of Arthur's reach.

"No, I insist. It's the least that I could do, since you're the one doing the papers. Besides, it would take less time if I were helping you."

His smile slipped slightly and his eyes twitched up and down, presumably to look at Arthur and then the box. He chewed his lip, and then sighed. "Fine, thank you very much, Mr. Kirkland," he said, handing the box to Arthur.

Arthur took it, quite satisfied with himself. At first he figured that the Asian man would prefer silence, much like Arthur himself. So then he would stay quiet and not strike up any conversation, particularly intruding ones. But as he watched Kiku bend over and take up another box, curiosity got the best of him. "So what are you packing?" he asked.

"My items." Kiku straightened up with a painful groan. His back must have been too tired for this work; Arthur was quite glad that he had offered to help, if that was the case. "I suggest you packing your own items soon as well. Preferably tomorrow or the day after."

Arthur's brow furrowed. "Wait, what for?"

"I am being re-stationed to Eastern Branch, Sector 234 of Area 2." Kiku shifted on his feet. "Is there a problem?"

Arthur's grin was quickly replaced by a frown. "Will I have to be re-stationed as well?"

"Why, of course. My job would be impossible over a great distance."

Arthur sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn't expected anything like that. If he had known, then he would have reconsidered. After all, he couldn't just leave the World Domain capital. His brother still lived in Central, and Arthur certainly could not leave an invalid man to his own devices while Arthur himself ran off to some unknown sector of the World Domain. Of course, Arthur could always bring Alistair along. However, Alistair would be absolutely furious in moving. He was comfortable in Central, and he wasn't one to adapt to somewhere else, especially if his veteran benefits lived in Central. The small amount of support the government gave would leave as quickly as Arthur and Alistair could leave the capital. There was a possibility to transfer the benefits over, but that would cost resources, and who knew what would be taken away? But of course, Arthur was simply being difficult. He had an entirely different reason on why he was hesitant to leave. His dream lied in Central, sitting upon the roof of the BCWD campus. All his life, he had dreamt of working in BCWD and BCWD only. He didn't want to work in one of the willy-nilly branches near the border or the shorelines. Ever since he got into BCWD University, it was "BCWD or bust." His green eyes darted left and right; they must have been searching for answers written on the décor. But he couldn't find any. Chewing his lip, he glanced back up at Kiku.

"Should I have mentioned that earlier?"

Arthur jumped. "Uh, yes—I mean, no. It's all right." He gulped. "The problem is… I don't think I can leave Central. For many reasons."

"Ah, I see." The Asian man paused for a brief moment, staring at the top of the box. Then he looked up again and smiled. "Well, no matter. If the move is inconvenient for you, then there is no need.

Hope flashed through green eyes.

"I am sure that the authorities will be able to find a proper mentor for you. There are plenty here in Central, and I am confident that they will find one competent and fitting enough to be able to teach you."

Arthur sighed. The brief moment of victory was gone, blown away. All was left of the promise was the box in his hands. "Well, nevertheless, I will help you," Arthur said.

"Yes, thank you." Kiku adjusted his grip on the box in his hands. "We will be travelling to the parking lot. But first we can move all the stuff outside my office."

The intern nodded and turned. "All right then." The directions sounded easy enough. He figured that, with the small number of boxes on the ground, he and Kiku would be able to complete the task easily within twenty or thirty minutes. And then when they were done, he could move onto searching for his next option, Sadık Adnan. Unfortunately, the compatibility he had found in Kiku may not be there in Sadık.

"But wait."

Arthur stopped and peeked over his shoulder.

"You did say that you are Arthur Kirkland, yes?"

His large eyebrows inched together again. "Yes, yes, I did introduce myself as such."

Kiku began to frown. His own littler eyebrows inched together, furrowing his brow. "Do you work as a waiter in a Chinese restaurant?"

The intern turned. His instinct became increasingly disconcerted as the questions streamed from the Asian man; however, he didn't understand why. "Yes. I do."

"And is your boss named Yao Wang?"

"Yes."

All of the sudden, Kiku set down the box and instead took Arthur's. Eye contact had been broken, and Kiku's brown eyes were aimed downwards. "You are dismissed," he said. "I can handle all of this on my own."

Arthur was shocked by the reaction. His mouth hung open and his hands were empty of any burdens at all. For some odd reason, humiliation coursed through his veins. Once again, he felt like he was standing before Francis, who refused to give him anything at all. "Wait, why?"

"I shall not trouble you with my own duties," Kiku replied. He shifted his grip on the box, but not his gaze from the ground.

Arthur reached out again, trying to take hold of the box again. "No, it's not trouble for me. I can help."

Kiku pulled the box away. "Tell Wang good luck."

"Mr. Honda, I don't understand this change in attitude. Please explain this to me."

"I apologise for my lack of consideration. You are dismissed."

"Oh, but Mr. Honda…"

"You are dismissed."

Arthur let his hands drop to his side, frowning with complete and utter confusion. "Yes, sir," he said and then turned around and left the room. Kiku had insisted that he could handle everything himself. Unfortunately, a gnawing feeling coursed throughout Arthur's self, and he simply did not understand why Kiku had decided that his answers to peculiar questions about his second job would warrant such a cold dismissal. But there had to be a reason, right? This was BCWD, and everything had a reason behind it. Well, all except Francis, who remained unreasonable. And that was why Arthur hated that blond man so much. So at least Arthur had the dignity to leave everything at that, and moved onto his next target: Sadık Adnan.

Unfortunately, Sadık was a harder man to find than Kiku was. When Arthur asked around, nearly half of the people gave him a strange expression or had merely shrugged the question off, saying, "I don't know." And another chunk of people had told him, "I don't know. He seems to just appear and disappear. Maybe if you walk around aimlessly, then you'll probably find him eventually." The advice was nice, but it did not help. The only person who did give him a straight answer was Elizaveta, the guard at the Medical Centre. But of course, she didn't know where Sadık was, and her initial response was a raised eyebrow and a suspicious frown. She just said that he wasn't in the Centre and he was guaranteed to be in the main headquarters. And if he wasn't, then Arthur would just need to find one of the staff in the Humane Control and he or she would know where that "freaky" man was.

Luckily, or unluckily, Arthur did not need to hunt down other members of the Humane Control department. Instead he found the man walking down the hallways. Sadık did not seem pleased; he was chewing his thumb—he looked quite strange as he did so because of his mask—while he used his other thumb to flick through the screens on a tablet. Arthur hated to interrupt the man with whatever he was doing, but Arthur had to do it sooner or later, and he preferred to get his job done when he knew where exactly the enigmatic man was.

So Arthur inched after Sadık and tapped the broad shoulder. "Excuse me, Mr. Adnan?"

Sadık peered over his shoulder, giving an unreadable look at Arthur. It was almost as if he didn't know what to think of the little, blond intern. Nevertheless, he grinned and turned. "Hi, Arthur, what do you need?"

"Uh, I would like to make a proposition with you," Arthur said carefully. He couldn't help himself from twiddling his thumbs before Sadık.

"Yeah? Make it quick though." He held up his tablet with its screen still flashing with a white message box and a few little notifications popping up from the side. "I have lots of work to do."

"Yes, of course." Arthur took a deep breath, looking up at Sadık. The tanned man was easily at least a head taller he was. "I was wondering if you would be willing to become my mentor instead of Bonnefoy."

Immediately the grin turned into a frown. "Why? I thought Francis is perfect for your level."

Arthur sighed. He was tempted to scratch his head and duck to avoid eye contact with the blank, frowning face, but he forced himself against the temptation. "You see, Bonnefoy and I… Our personalities clash too often…" Swallowing spiteful words against Francis, he continued, "And I would like to switch to you."

Oddly enough, the frown deepened to a scowl. "Well, sorry, buddy, but if you can't handle Francis, then I doubt you would be able to handle me. I don't know if you realise this or not, but he was my intern once upon a time, and I wouldn't doubt that my teaching methods and personality have rubbed off on him."

"Yes, I do realise that, but that's not what I meant." Arthur bit his lip. "Anyway, I would also like to switch departments as well, so that's why I'm asking you as well." That was only partly a lie.

Sadık tucked his tablet under his arm. His forehead wrinkled a bit, and an end of an eyebrow peeked over his white mask. "Sorry, buddy, but I don't take any interns anymore. And all the officers in my department are already busy with others. I don't think you'll be able to get into this department. The only way you'd have a chance to work in this department is through an SEP specialised assimilation officer, and the only one open is Francis."

Arthur's shoulders drooped.

Sadık sighed, his broad shoulders also drooping. He seemed to stare at Arthur, glancing up and down. But he didn't look like he was. His mask was staring at Arthur. Suddenly, a grin broke on his face and Sadık slapped a heavy hand on Arthur's shoulder, startling the blond back into attention. "But don't worry! I know a way out of the system!"

"W-what?" Arthur sputtered.

"There's this guy—top dog—who coordinates all the mentor-intern stuff. If you can somehow persuade the guy to switch you, then there's no doubt that you'll get it."

Arthur looked back up, making eye contact with Sadık's mask. "Really?"

"Yeah! He just got back from his trip to the SS. So I bet he's in his office right now—real easy to find. Room number 2 or something like that." Sadık cut the air with his other hand as he said that. "Talk to him, okay, buddy? Name's Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Arthur nodded. Inwardly, he frowned. He knew that name much too well. That time when Gilbert bullied Arthur in his office was unforgettable, and Arthur held a secret grudge against that Beilschmidt. So Arthur was a bit hesitant to walk back to that office and encounter the "dreamer-hater" once more. But he sort of had to, didn't he? He couldn't get Kiku, who was moving away to another sector and who seemed to have suddenly developed a secret animosity that Arthur didn't know about against him, and Sadık had shot him down without any hesitation at all. The only way to get around anything was Gilbert Beilschmidt, wasn't it?

So with a long sigh, Arthur thanked Sadık, who smiled and nodded back in acknowledgement before turning back around to complete whatever he was doing, and walked in the direction he had become familiar with after his little "adventure" with Francis two days before. The journey from that end of the building, down a number of flights of stairs, and to Gilbert's room—it was actually labelled five, not two—had been his shortest. Well, it felt like it was the shortest, but only because Arthur didn't spend so much time searching for his target. Thus, instead of readying himself with a possibly another strained encounter as he walked down the hallway, he did so at the door, breathing in heavily before knocking on the door.

"Hello?" the gruff, accented voice called from the other side.

"Hello, Mr. Beilschmidt. This is Arthur Kirkland," the intern called back. He had not been given permission to enter, so he decided to talk through the metal door. "I would like to speak to you."

"I can't hear you, man! Just come in! Do I really have to say that?"

"Yes…" Arthur muttered under his breath. But of course, Gilbert wouldn't have heard that as Arthur slid the door open.

The room was exactly the same as it was two days ago. The books were in the same state, leaning against each other in a disorderly fashion, and the picture frame once again rested face-down on the bottommost shelf to collect dust. Gilbert even sat the same way at his desk with his feet propped up on his paperwork. The only difference was that two things were missing. The blue hat and the "Black Eagle" rifle were gone. And Gilbert didn't greet the newcomer with a smile, as he did when Francis had towed Arthur along. Instead, Gilbert shot Arthur a disgusted scowl, one end of his snake-like mouth stretching too far to the left. And there was no "How are you?" or anything like that.

Gilbert nodded towards Arthur. "What do you want?" he barked. His feet slid off his desk and hit the ground with a pair of thumps. "I figure you're not here to apologise for your insubordination two days before."

Arthur opened his mouth then closed it back up. A scowl made its way onto his face, just as how he made his way over to Gilbert's desk. Of course, Gilbert had been right; Arthur would never pass in an apology, especially when he felt that Gilbert had wronged him, not the other way around. But he knew that he had to tread carefully if he were to ever hope to persuade Gilbert into anything. "Yes, I am not here to apologise," Arthur replied, standing before the man in uniform. "I am here to ask you something."

A long, thin and angular eyebrow arched up. "Is that so?" Gilbert said condescendingly, looking up at Arthur from his chair. "You know that I'm inclined to say no right now, right?"

Arthur's scowl deepened. "Yes, I do realise that." He paused for a moment as he made unwavering eye contact with Gilbert in an attempt to stare Gilbert down. It was no wonder that Gilbert and Ludwig were brothers; they had the same exact eyes. However, Gilbert's were a much lighter shade. They held the tint similar to Alfred's. Arthur had a hard time staring Gilbert down, and he didn't succeed. So he continued, "I would like to request changing to another mentor."

Gilbert shot to his feet. "What?" The chair behind him was rolling and spinning a few centimetres behind him.

"I would like to switch to the direction of another assimilation officer."

"I know what you said!" Gilbert slammed his gloved hands upon the wood. "I'm asking you what makes you think you have any right to request a change?"

Arthur shot Gilbert a patronising look, raising his chin so he may look down at a man who was at least two or three centimetres taller. "I do not believe that your decision in internship assignment is prudent."

Gilbert's hand slid against the desk surface. Pens and other items clattered to the ground, and small, loose note-pad pages flitted through the air. Arthur flinched. "What makes you question my decision?"

"The incompatibility I have to face with Bonnefoy as my mentor." Arthur's tone turned flat. He didn't want Gilbert to hear him waver. "He refuses to answer my questions, allow me to participate in assignments, and acknowledge any of my abilities to work and learn."

Suddenly, Gilbert slapped a hand to his forehead. His laughter was sharp and serpentine, stirred with the condescension of a victorious, insensitive soldier. "Hah! The ungrateful child doesn't even realise that he's being babied! This is hilarious!"

Arthur's eyebrows inched together. Shock and rage boiled within his stomach; his frown became a thin line. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Gilbert leaned over the desk, a spiteful smirk spreading across his face. He hissed, "Francis knows your limits, and, to tell you the truth, they're below par."

Arthur too slammed his hands onto the desk and he leant closer to Gilbert, challenging Gilbert's terrible smile with his growling scowl. "I am not 'below par'! I have graduated top of my class throughout my years, and I have completed BCWD University from a scholarship only one out of trillions can ever achieve! If you want to know the actual truth, Bonnefoy is the one who is misjudging my ability."

A short chortle bubbled up from Gilbert. "Misjudging? Misjudging?" he repeated, offending doubt mingling with his words. He pulled away from his desk. "Kid, assimilation officers don't misjudge."

"Yes, they do."

"No, they don't."

"Yes, they do."

"Look, kid, I can't just reassign you to a different officer all willy-nilly simply because you think that Francis 'misjudges' your ability. Assimilation officers. Are. Never. Wrong. They're there to change your life."

Arthur crinkled his nose and pulled away. Gilbert's breath started to smell a bit sour. Suddenly, Gilbert slammed his hand around a pen lying on his desk and he ripped a little sheet of paper from underneath his name stand at the edge of his desk. He scribbled something out on one side, and then he scrawled a group of short words across the other side. Then he shoved the note into Arthur.

"I want you to go to that address and talk to the old man there. It's far; bring Francis with you," Gilbert ordered. Then he whipped the metal pen across the room. The utensil cracked against the wall and broke. Arthur flinched and he dared to look back. The ink cartridge was separated from its container and spilled a puddle of blue. Gilbert slapped Arthur back into attention. "Until you realise that you just can't change my decision, I do not want to see your ungrateful face around here ever again."

Arthur stared back. Fear had finally settled back where anger was. He took the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

"Do you understand?"

Arthur instinctively clicked his heels together. He didn't even know why he did that, but he did. "Yes, sir!"

Gilbert nodded in satisfaction. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stood straight, just like Ludwig Beilschmidt. "Now, leave."

No more words were necessary and Arthur briskly exited the room. He bumped into somebody waiting out the door with a tablet under her arm, apologised and walked around. After walking a good distance away from Beilschmidt's nightmarish office, Arthur stopped and took out the little note and looked at it. "Sanssouci 24 Mneme," it said. Arthur realised that it was an address, although it was a strange way to write one, but he had never heard of a town or city called "Sanssouci," and he was certain that wherever this "Sanssouci" was, it wasn't close to BCWD. With a heavy sigh, he flipped to the back. That side was almost dark blue with the large line-cloud that Gilbert "drew." Arthur couldn't quite see what was originally there, but he knew that it was from Francis: A cursive "Bonnefoy" was still visible at the bottom. Arthur scowled and shoved the note back into his pants' pocket.

That Beilschmidt placed too much trust in his officers.