"There you go, you're starting to get the hang of it now," Lavi beams between breaths, readjusting his stance to prepare for another round. They had forgone weapons for this particular exercise, and Allen is glad that he is at least somewhat adept at hand-to-hand, though Lavi still continues to find ways to use his newly acquired blind side to his advantage.

Allen flexes his hands, shifting his footing so that he is more evenly balanced. "I get the feeling you're not quite taking this seriously," he says, watching Lavi for any surprises. It wouldn't be the first time today.

He smirks a little, fairly nonchalant about the whole thing. "What makes you say that?" he asks, in a tone that implies he knows exactly what.

"You keep pulling faces at me, Lavi. I wouldn't call that 'taking it seriously'."

"Oh, lighten up Al. You're trying too hard. Relax, let it flow."

"I don't see how that's going to help."

"Trust me, it will. Things don't work right if you're too tense." Allen sighs, considering it, then takes a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and shifting his weight a little. "Another round?" Lavi asks, and he nods just before Lavi charges towards him regardless, requiring him to parry as he steps around out of the way and swivels around to meet his next move.

Allen ducks under a well-aimed kick and swings his fist, aiming for the stomach, but Lavi grabs his arm and twists around to get him in a lock. "Gotcha," he sings, and Allen allows himself a grin; he's been in this lock many times before, and he utilises his knowledge now, Lavi giving a surprised yelp as Allen throws his weight forward and rolls across the ground, shaking him off. They both jump back to their feet and ready a stance, Lavi giving him a disgruntled look. "That was dirty, Al," he says, readjusting his headband.

"You never said we had to play cleanly," he quips back, and Lavi simply shrugs. Allen strikes first this time, aiming for Lavi's blind side, but Lavi avoids it and they lapse back into combat in full force.

He manages to knock Lavi down, but Lavi kicks and brings Allen down with him, and as they roll back to a standing position Lavi's eyes flick to the doorway, then he pauses, perking up a little. "Lenalee!" he beams, lowering his hands a little. Allen follows his gaze to where Lenalee sits cross-legged just inside the doorway, smiling at them both. She must have just returned from her mission, he figures, especially considering the bandage on her face and the tired look in her eyes. "Did you come to watch me using my awesome muscles?" he asks, flexing an arm for emphasis.

She laughs at him, a hand going to her mouth. "Your muscles are pretty awesome," she says, and then her eyes move over to Allen. "But I actually came to see how Allen was doing."

"Oh," Allen says, dropping his hands and relaxing his stance. He should have known that there was no way Komui would keep her out of the loop, but it still somehow bothers him. "How much did they tell you?"

Her expression softens a little, her eyes flicking down very briefly. "Most of it, I think. The appearance of a Noah is apparently a pretty big deal, and Komui says the Apostles should know what's going on. He's already contacted all of us to share what information they've been able to gather." It makes sense, he thinks; he remembers what Reever had said when he'd given his recount of the events, what Komui had told him upon his return, that the Noah are dangerous and a bigger threat than demons ever were. "More importantly," she continues, "He told me about you, so I came to see how you were holding up. Kanda says you've barely left this floor."

"Kanda said that?" he asks, wondering why Kanda would have anything to say about him at all.

"Yeah, he spends about as much time up here as you do now. Though he's more healthy about it, I don't think it's good for you to spend so much time training."

"I've been trying to tell him as much, but he won't listen, will you Al?" Lavi chides, giving him a cynically raised eyebrow.

"Then why do you still train with him?" Lenalee asks pointedly, as though it's Lavi's fault.

He shrugs, defensive. "Hey, I only do it when I have the free time and the energy to spare. Besides, who else is there that can teach him how to use only one eye?"

"Marie? Though I suppose he wouldn't really have quite the same knowledge."

"Yeah, being blind is pretty different to having even half your sight, trust me."

"Still!" she huffs, looking back at Allen. "You should take a break once in a while."

"I can't," he tells her, and they both look at him, surprised. "I need to be strong enough to fight them again. There's no point in being an Apostle if I can't fight demons."

"Allen," Lavi sighs, and Lenalee gets the impression that they've had this conversation more than once. "You are still strong enough to fight them, it's just too risky to let you do so before you're at least a little bit used to the sight difference."

"And when will that be, Lavi?" he bites, but Lavi stays silent. "All I can do right now is try my best to be good enough for them to deem me able to fight, and this is the only way I know how, so unless you have some sort of brilliant idea to magically bring my eye back then I don't know what I'm supposed to do." He's getting irrationally mad, he knows, but his hands are shaking and his eye hurts and he finds himself hard-pressed to care.

Lenalee rises to her feet, smoothing out her skirt before looking Allen straight in the eye. "Allen," she says slowly, carefully, "These things happen. It's just the nature of war. It is terrible that it had to happen to you, but it's done now and that's the end of it. Excuse me for saying this, but you need to suck it up and have patience. These things take time, and while you have every right to be upset about it, it's not really going to do you any good."

He wants to snap at her, to tell her she's wrong, that he's trying, damn it, but anything he would want to say slips from his mind as he knows that she's right. He is unjustified in his rage, acting like a child simply because he had something taken away from him. He deflates with a deep sigh, looking away from both of them as he thinks. He needs to get away from them for a moment, to take time on his own to calm down and reflect on his mindset. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, then heads for the door.

"Allen, wait," Lenalee says, but he steps past her and briskly out down the hall, and she reluctantly lets him go. She sighs, turning back to Lavi, who stands there with a look of mild befuddlement on his face. "Has he been like that the whole time?" she asks, trying to make heads or tails of what exactly is going through Allen's mind.

"Pretty much," Lavi replies, relaxing his shoulders and scratching just below his ear. "He was better the first few days, when he was mostly just upset about what happened, but I think the longer he's stuck here the angrier he's getting. He's still young, after all. It's a harsh thing to happen to anybody, but a kid like him? It's eating him."

She hums thoughtfully, tapping her foot as she considers her options, then decides on something that she hopes will turn out to benefit him. "Let Komui know that Allen and I are going to town for a while, would you?" she asks, and Lavi gives her a thumbs up.

"Sure thing, Lena," he says, giving her a smile, and she returns it before stepping out to go and track down their wayward friend.

She asks around the hallways on whether or not anybody has seen him and is led to the unassuming door of his room, thick wood the same as all the others on most of the floors in this area. She takes a deep breath, considers what she's going to say, then knocks gently on the door, a small thump heard from inside as Allen jumps up to answer it, his expression faltering once he realises who it is. "Oh, Lenalee," he murmurs, unsure of what else to say.

"Are you busy?" she asks flatly, and he blinks.

"Um. No?"

"Good, you're coming for a walk in town with me."

"What do you-"

"Grab your coat, let's go."

"Oh, um, okay," he breathes, grabbing his coat from where it sits folded on his bed and jogging to catch up with her after she turns to stroll down the hall. It is silent as they walk, their boots echoing on the stone tiles as they head downstairs to the canal, and it is only once they are on the boat that Lenalee breaks the silence.

"You've been on a fair few missions by now, haven't you?" she asks suddenly, and Allen jumps a little, glancing down at her before returning his eyes to the route in front of them.

"A few, yes," he replies, unsure of where she's going with this.

"How are you finding the work?"

That's a fairly general question, and he isn't exactly sure how to answer, especially in light of recent events. "It's not so bad," he finds himself saying, thinking back on all the ones he'd been sent on before his most recent one. "It's not exactly desirable, of course, but... I enjoy doing it."

"Really?" she asks incredulously, and he gives her a look of confusion. "I'm sorry, it's just that you're the only one I've ever heard say that they enjoy this. And to think you were so against it in the beginning. I can't think of any reason why someone would actually enjoy being an Apostle."

"You don't seem to mind it," he says quietly, then pauses. "Do you?"

She gives a small laugh, looking away. "Well, really I've just grown used to it. I despised it at first." Allen finds it hard to imagine that, coming from Lenalee, who seems so at ease here at the Order and in the life she's taken. "I was forced to be here, in the beginning," she continues thoughtfully, stretching her legs out in front of her. "I was brought here when I was really young, and they wouldn't let me leave because they needed my power. That was back when we had fairly few Apostles, so every one was a precious asset to them. I hated everything about it, but as time went on and Komui joined me here, I came to hate it less, and now, well... I can't imagine life without it."

He wonders what exactly had happened to her in the beginning, but the look on her face when she talks about it tells him that he should probably not ask questions about that particular point. "Komui is your brother, right?" he asks instead, remembering the things he's heard of their relationship. "Did he join here because of you?"

She nods, stifling a small laugh to herself. "Yes, he came about a year or so after me. Don't ask how he became the supervisor, I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad he did. He's the only family member I had."

"Had?"

She smiles at him, reaching out to bring the boat to the pier as they drift up beside it. "The Order is my home now," she explains, tying the rope to the moor as Allen brings them in closer, "And everyone in it is my family."

It's strange, he thinks as they ascend the stairs to step out of the church above, for her to consider them all her family like that, but he supposes that it makes some degree of sense. With her own brother being such a closely knit component and having been part of it for so many years, he can understand why she would come to see them that way; they are all so nice, after all (with the odd exception), and the sense of camaraderie among them makes him feel as though it really is just one big, bizarre family. It is not dissimilar to the circus, he realises, perhaps even more tightly woven than the troupes he has travelled with but never felt a part of. War can bring people closer together, after all, but he worries about when it will tear them apart.

Her first order of business is to find lunch, since she hadn't eaten since returning and Allen had been training all day, so they pick up some pastries from a baker on the corner and nibble on them as they wander through the town, stopping to look in various store windows on their way down the main streets at clothing and jewellery and various little knick-knacks. Allen takes particular interest in the things Lenalee tells him while she keeps conversation, trying to focus on her rather than the seemingly misplaced fear growing in his gut the longer he is there, flinching at every little noise and his eyes catching every movement. Eventually they tire and settle on one of the benches placed intermittently along the main road, watching the day pass them by in silence. "You know, I never got to see it," Lenalee muses after a time, pulling a piece of bread off of the roll in her hands and popping it into her mouth. "Your eye, that is."

He frowns, picking apart his fourth pastry as he tries to figure out what she means. "You saw me before this happened," he mutters, confused.

She rolls her eyes, a small smile on her face. "In action, Allen. I never saw it in action. Lavi told me about it, what happened when the demons got close enough for you to see them. It sounded really cool."

He sighs, thinking back on the most recent occasions that his curse had been useful. "I can't see them any more," he says despondently, and she looks over at him, munching thoughtfully. "It was the only advantage I had over them. Now, they could spring from anywhere, and I wouldn't know until it was too late."

"That's not true," she says, and he pauses, looking at her. "I mean, none of us have cursed eyes, so how do you think we get by?"

He blinks. "Honestly? I've no clue."

She sighs as though she is teaching things to a child, but she seems happy to explain all the same. "First of all, I promise that you can calm down. Don't think I haven't noticed you being jumpy all day, you're going to drive yourself mad at this rate."

"But you can't tell who's a demon and who isn't," he explains, hoping that she understands his point. "Any one of these people could be one of them, and they could take us by surprise at any moment. There's no way we can be ready for that if we just relax and let it happen."

"Allen, Apostles don't survive as long as they do by sheer luck." She pauses as she splits up the last of her roll, throwing it in pieces to the couple of pigeons milling about them. "There are a lot of factors that contribute to why what we do works. The demons, for one. They're not usually stupid enough to attack us in plain sight, unless it's to their advantage. Second, they can sense an Apostle when they're close enough." She pauses, glancing over at Allen. "I guess it's sort of like your eye was, huh? Like a sensory thing. They know who we are just by looking at us, and the uniform only serves to help with that; it shows them who we are without a shadow of a doubt. Therefore, we can then rule out anybody that simply ignores us. If a person approaches us or acts out to try and get attention, that is when we suspect them, and that's when we prepare ourselves for a fight. I suppose you would never have needed to learn that before now, but the rest of us have all learned it one way or another."

Allen looks away from her, ruminating on each piece of information and trying to make sure he understands it all. "So you just suspect anybody that approaches you?" he asks quietly, and she nods emphatically. "That seems... cruel."

"There are a lot of cruel things," she says, leaning back on the bench and swinging her feet, "And many of them are much worse than simply suspecting someone of being a demon. It's for their safety, after all, and there has to be sacrifices." Allen is unsure of what to say to that, his mind turning it over and working at each word until he is distracted from it when his eye begins to act out again, pain suddenly ebbing around the socket in what is becoming a common occurrence. He presses his fingertips into the bone just to the left of the eye, putting pressure on it until it passes. "Does it hurt?" she asks, and he suddenly realises that he'd been too careless.

"Oh, um. Sometimes," he concedes, frowning to himself at his apparently inability to effectively lie to her, trying his best to remedy that. "Not much, though."

She frowns, leaning forward to get a better look as though she will somehow be able to understand. "Do the nurses know?" she asks, and he hesitates. She seems to understand this pause as answer enough, and scowls at him. "Have you had it checked?"

Not since the second check-up they had given him upon returning to headquarters, he thinks, and that was weeks ago now. He tries to hastily find an answer decent enough to assuage her, and he is saved by an interruption from a priest that had stopped just in front of them. "Madam Lee," the man says, bowing to her, and she jumps to her feet.

"Father Darius!" she beams, then holds out her palm to him. He draws something on it with his finger, and she relaxes, while Allen feels somehow out of the loop. "I'm glad to see you're doing well," she says, smiling at him.

"Likewise, but I am afraid I'm here on business. The supervisor would like you and Master Walker to return to headquarters immediately."

Allen tries not to dwell on the way the priest's eyes had lingered on him when he was mentioned, instead focusing on the apparent oddity in the request. "Is there something the matter?" Lenalee asks, seeming just as confused as he is.

Darius seems thoughtful for a moment, casting an eye back down the street. "I'm afraid I don't know, but I was told that it was urgent," he explains, and she nods.

"Alright, we'll head back now. Thank you, Father." Darius bows to them, and then she drags Allen up and back towards the church, contemplative as she leads him through the streets he is yet to learn.

"What do you suppose it's about?" Allen asks her, and she just shakes her head.

"I have no idea. I hope it's nothing serious," she murmurs, and he gets the heavy feeling that it may well be bad news.

Lavi is already there when they step into Komui's office, greeting them with a sombre wave over the back of the lounge as they walk over to sit beside him, nervous of Komui's dark expression and the strange lack of personnel in the room. "Now that you're all here," Komui begins, reaching behind him to pick up a small folder on his desk, "We're sending the three of you to Morocco. You leave as soon as we're done here. You are to meet Marshal Yeegar in a town in the south, then head further down to one of the larger cities."

"Marshal Yeegar?" Lenalee asks, and Allen glances over to see her heavily bemused face. "Is there something going on there that would need three Apostles and a Marshal?"

Komui sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, a heavy pause filling the room before he speaks again. "We're fairly sure there's a member of the Clan of Noah there," he says, and Allen's blood freezes. "Our footstaff have been keeping an eye on them for a few days now, since we couldn't exactly be sure, but they've killed a few people and have been seen conversing with and commanding a few demons."

"Is it Road?" Allen asks quietly, and they all look at him, mixed expressions on their faces.

Komui clears his throat. "No, it's an older man, somewhere between twenty and thirty-five I was told. There's a full briefing being printed as we speak which contains all of that information. You should get yourselves ready and leave as soon as possible; we don't want to lose them."

Lavi had been quiet during the whole thing, but now he finally speaks up. "What are we supposed to do when we find them?" he asks, having thought of what should have been the most obvious question, but Allen had been too busy thinking about what had happened the last time they'd found one.

"That's for Marshal Yeegar to decide. He's much more experienced than any of us currently are, and it really depends on what the situation is like when you get there. All I can say is that I want you all to be safe, and don't jump into anything you're unsure of. We have no idea what the Noah can do, and we don't want any more casualties than is necessary. I'd like you to get in contact with headquarters for an update at least once a day."

Komui doesn't really have much more to say, though he does have a personal talk with Lenalee about being careful and coming home safely, so they head off to begin their preparations, pausing just outside of Komui's door. "Just how scary are these Noah?" Lavi asks more lightly than the situation calls for, though still looking awfully thoughtful about it. "For four Apostles to be needed, it's pretty extreme."

Allen sighs, thinking back on his encounter to try and pick out anything useful. "I'm not really sure," he mutters, earning him a pair of curious looks. "I mean, Road didn't really do much, that I saw anyway. It might be better off asking Kanda, I was only half-conscious for the whole thing."

"I tried that when he was last here," Lavi sighs, "But he wouldn't tell me anything. 'Talk to the brat about it', he said, 'he's the one that had a fucking chat with it'."

"I asked him about it," Lenalee pipes up, "But he still didn't tell me much. He did say that they were definitely not human, though, and certainly not something to be taken lightly."

"Yū said that? Damn, now I'm nervous, he always takes things lightly."

Allen tries not to wonder about just what Kanda thinks of it all and focuses instead on the task at hand, worrying about who this new Noah is and what's going to happen if they find him. It has been pretty heavily assumed that the Noah far surpass them in power, and as much as he would like to defeat them, he knows that fighting them on equal ground is not something that is likely to happen. It lingers in his mind throughout the whole trip, resurfacing every time he tries to push it down and nagging behind any other thoughts he has. Morocco is a nice enough place, at least, the three of them travelling down the coastline with the sun at their backs, and it helps to assuage his fears a little; accompanied by pleasant weather and Lavi's exuberant demeanour and Lenalee's warm smile, it is easy to forget what waits for them at their destination.

"It's a good way to cope," Lavi explains when Allen brings it up in hushed tones one day over breakfast, leaning over the table and swirling his coffee. "This line of work can be pretty hard on you, so you learn to take the small things." He notices the way Lavi's eyes fall on Lenalee as he says that, watching her talk with the innkeeper about directions and their fastest route, and Allen gets the feeling that this war is a lot harder on them than they make it seem.

Lenalee he can understand, with the way she had talked about her past and the Order and her ever-changing family, but Lavi he still knows almost nothing about, even after all this time. Allen has heard that he is some kind of historian or bookkeeper, but of what exactly he has no idea, and Lavi never lets on even that much, and while he would likely have asked about it under different circumstances, he feels as though he should leave the subject alone. He recognises the look in Lavi's eyes when he thinks nobody is watching, if only because it is so similar to Allen's own, and he has enough respect for his comrade to keep his questions to himself.

The only change in whatever falsity Lavi has constructed that Allen can remember occurs later that day, while they are only another half day's travel from their destination and having stopped for the night after the trains had stopped running. This town is still fairly lively even at this time of night, the streets thick with people and the air heavy with smoke from the gaslamps lighting the streets and trailing from the bars along the bigger roads, and neither Allen nor Lenalee realise they have lost Lavi until they stop just outside of a pub, Lenalee turning to ask if it was good enough but met only with empty air. Allen casts his eyes further down the street and spots him a few feet down, leading Lenalee over and looking on with concern as Lavi leans against the wall, eye set hard on the ground and breath coming irregularly. "Lavi?" Lenalee asks, gently taking his hand, "Are you alright?"

He blinks and looks up to meet her eyes, flashing her his patented grin. "Oh, yeah," he says easily, carefully straightening himself up. Allen notices that he keeps one hand against pressed against the wall. "Just fatigued all of a sudden, you know? Too long between meals I think, we should get dinner on pronto." Lenalee doesn't question it further as he strolls off ahead of them, sharing only a brief, concerned look with Allen before following after him, and Allen quickly forgets about it as they work through a fulfilling dinner at the pub.

They find an inn with open rooms not too far from the station to stay the night, and Allen finds himself fidgety and nervous now that he has realised just how close they are to what is probably going to be an encounter with the Noah. They have been checking in with headquarters every night since leaving, tonight being no different, and unless there has been some sudden change then the Noah has only moved about a town or so away from where they were when the three of them left headquarters. Allen's eye aches with the memory of what Road did to him, and that was when she wasn't even trying; imagining what a Noah could do if they were serious fills him with a dread he has seldom felt before. It will be fine, he tells himself, there are three of us, we're being careful, there will be a Marshal with us, but there is nothing he can think that assuages the cold taste of fear in his mouth.

Lenalee makes the call to Komui as they are checking in, using the phone in the foyer and dialling up the Order's secure network. Allen's eye drifts back to her often, nervous of any developments as Lavi chats up the young woman working the desk beside him, and as Lenalee's eyes go wide and the hand holding the earpiece drifts down his heart drops into his stomach. She glances back and meets his stare, moisture welling up in her eyes as she holds the phone out for him, and he steps forward to take it, watching Lenalee carefully as she wipes her eyes clear. "Um, it's Allen," he says into the mouthpiece, dreading what it is he's about to hear. "What happened?"

"Oh," Komui says, and there is a careful pause that follows, Allen's nerves growing with each passing second. "I'm... sorry, Allen, but we need you all to come back up north. I'll meet you in Madrid when you get there, one of our footstaff will lead you from the station. Call me before you get there so that we know."

He's avoiding the main point, Allen knows, there is something very, very wrong here. "I understand," he says, then, more forcefully, "But I would like to know what happened."

"Of course you would, I'm sorry. I just- Is Lenalee alright?"

He glances back to where Lenalee sits silently on one of the chairs in the foyer, talking in hushed tones with Lavi with tears on her face. Lavi glances up and catches his eye, and there is a flash of sympathy that says Lavi already knows. "She's strong," Allen says to Komui, his eyes drifting down, "I'm sure she will be."

Komui sighs, and there is something murmured on the other end of the line that Allen doesn't catch. "Marshal Yeegar was killed just a couple of hours ago," he says finally, Allen's breath hitching in his throat as he suddenly understands Lenalee's reaction. For a Marshal, so fabled in strength, to fall so suddenly, it is a stark example of the gap in power between them and the Noah. It takes him a moment to remember that Komui is talking. "The footstaff that were with him -the ones that survived, at least- called in and told us that the Noah had found them. We don't know if that was their plan all along, to lure the Marshal there, but the fact of the matter is that the Noah struck before we could. Another thing..."

He trails off, and Allen counts a full twenty seconds before it gets to him enough to question it. "What other thing?" he asks, glancing up as Lenalee and Lavi step up beside him.

"There was something carved into the Marshal's back. 'The Eve of this night will be ours'."

"What does that mean?"

Komui begins to say something, then stops himself. "Look, just meet me in Spain as soon as you can and I'll explain everything. And please, please, be careful."

The trip back north is much more sombre than the one south, the Marshal's death weighing heavily on all of their minds. Lenalee barely says a word, and it is Allen's understanding that she is grieving; she had been quite fond of the Marshal, according to Lavi, having been taught many things by him when she was younger. Allen is never sure how to treat a grieving person, despite how often he has had to in the past, but this is Lenalee, a friend and an Apostle and not a stranger that he can simply speak situational wisdom onto and hope for the best, so he leaves her be and hopes that she will ask for his aid if she needs it. It is all he can hope for in this situation, really.

Madrid is hot and stuffy and crowded even this late in the year and it does very little to ease their moods, if anything only serving to irritate them further. As Komui had said there is a man with a cross emblazoned on his chest waiting for them when they step off the train, greeting their sombre demeanours with professional simplicity and then leading them through the town, winding through side-streets and back-alleys until they come to a squat little building with a small cross engraved at the foot of the door. The air is smoky and heavily scented when they step inside from some kind of incense that sits burning on the table, and it fills Allen's lungs as they step through to a door at the back of the room, their guide pushing it open to reveal Komui and an older man he has never seen (who, strangely, makes Lavi perk up a little at the sight of, the two of them sharing a silent nod) both sitting around a table barely visible beneath the tomes and papers that cover it.

"I'm glad you made it," Komui says as he stands, shaking their hands in turn and giving Lenalee a brief embrace before inviting them to sit. "We've been doing as much research as we can, and while we haven't exactly learned anything new, we'd like to share with you what we've got so far. I apologise for bombarding you with all this as soon as you've arrived, but we need to send you off again as soon as we can."

"It's alright," Allen says, "We understand that the circumstances call for it."

Komui closes his eyes and nods, taking a deep breath before meeting their gazes. "We believe that the Noah are targeting the Marshals," he begins, shuffling through some of the mess to find what looks to Allen like a summary of their findings. "The attack on Marshal Yeegar is high proof of this, especially considering the writing left with him. I am assuming they meant it as some kind of taunt, but it has actually been very useful in letting us know what exactly they are searching for; Eve."

Allen catches Lenalee's quiet gasp and glances over to find her eyes wide, but more with understanding than with shock. "How much do you suppose they know about it?" she asks quietly, and he simply shakes his head.

"It's hard to say. The Earl is very old; the amount of knowledge he could have gathered over the years is insurmountable. He did fight the original Eve, after all, if legends are to be believed. There is high chance that he knows far more about it than we currently do."

"Um, excuse me," Allen interjects gently, feeling somewhat like a child, "But I'm afraid I don't quite follow. I've no idea what this 'Eve' thing is."

"Eve was the original Apostle," the older man says suddenly, catching him off guard. "She fought with the Earl thousands of years ago and managed to avoid the destruction of the Earth, but in doing so, lost her life. With the last of her ability she wrote down a testament, and then bestowed her power upon a blessed few. These few are the Apostles that stand today."

"The term 'Eve' currently refers to one Apostle in particular, who is fabled to have the strongest connection to all Apostles and could hold the fate of the whole war in their hands," Komui continues, handing Allen a crude diagram depicting what he assumes to be Apostles, linked in the middle by a faceless figure that must be the Eve they're talking about. "It is heavily believed that if Eve dies, all of you follow suit, or something of the sort. If the Earl gets hold of them then the war is as good as over, which is why he is apparently searching for them, probably starting with the Marshals since they're the strongest among you."

Allen thinks carefully about that, wondering if such a powerful Apostle truly exists. He thinks of the way Kanda had been in battle, Cross' unrivalled strength, and it is suddenly apparent to him just how probable it is. "But if Eve is just one Apostle," he says slowly, looking over the diagram again before setting it down, "Then why not take extra measures to protect them, or remove them from the war altogether?"

"If only it were so simple," Komui sighs, linking his hands in front of his mouth. "The thing is, we don't know who Eve is, or if the one bearing that ability is even active right now. There's no way we know of to be able to tell who it is, so the Earl's guess is as good as ours. At first we considered Hevlaska, for obvious reasons, but once we ruled that out it's been an open field from there. Even Hebah can't tell."

"So if the Earl is targeting the Marshals in search of it," Lenalee muses, their eyes moving to her, "Then that must mean he knows fairly little about who it could be, right?"

"Yes, which would have been in our favour if he hadn't resorted to his current tactic. As it is, all of the remaining four Marshals are now targets, much moreso than Apostles normally are individually. Which brings me to the nature of your mission." He straightens up, the older man handing him a few sheets of paper which he looks over briefly before handing one to each of them. "All units have been dispatched in groups and sent to meet with their assigned Marshals for protection until we can figure out a better mode of defence. We considered splitting you up and sending you with different Marshals, but with Allen still..." Still incapacitated, he thinks bitterly, but stays his tongue, "We figure it's better to keep you together for now. The three of you are to head east and meet Marshal Tiedoll and his group somewhere in China as a... I suppose a kind of secondary mission."

Allen blinks, looking up from the briefing to Komui. "Secondary?" he asks, eyes narrowed, "To what?"

"Well," Komui says slowly, suddenly apprehensive, "There's still one Marshal we haven't been able to account for, and of course we can't send anyone to protect him if we have no idea where he is, so you're going with Tiedoll until we can gain any information on his whereabouts."

Allen's stomach drops through the floor as realisation dawns on him, his hands clenching around the fabric of his trousers. "No," he breathes, and they all give him curious looks. "You can't mean...?"

"Marian?" Komui says easily, and almost smiles. "I most certainly do."

Any other place, any other time, and Allen would have probably cried.