It took a lot to impress Twilight (alias: Loid Forger), and looking around the grandness of Eden College, he was impressed.
Somehow over the course of a day, the school staff had managed to transform the refectory from a regular school cafeteria into a five-star dining experience, complete with white linen tablecloths and superbly lit candelabras. Candlelight flickered at every table, and the food was a spectacular hit. It was a shame that he couldn't enjoy it the same way that the other parents could.
He wore a subtle earpiece for the mission's sake, ready to transmit a message as soon as he spotted any sign of the Desmond parents - although he knew it was as unlikely as Yuri offering him a friendship bracelet. 'Twilight the Spy' wanted the mission to progress in any way possible, while 'Loid Forger the Father' fervently hoped that nothing would happen to cause his family any worry or distress, especially on what was supposed to be a happy night. Just from watching Damian's face, it was obvious that he couldn't quite hold back the rainbow of emotions that welled up in him at all times, and Twilight could guess at the uncomfortable mix of hope, guilt, and relief that Damian might have been feeling from not having his parents there.
Somehow between dinner and post-dinner drinks, Twilight found himself in conversation with Mr Blackbell (CEO of Blackbell Heavy Industries), and General Watkins (of the Ostanian Army), while their wives had somehow coalesced to form their own group, and their sons and daughters had formed a separate group of their own, no doubt all enjoying the atmosphere together.
It was very odd company to keep. While Mr Blackbell ("Call me Barnabus!") stood out in his glittering purple suit, General Watkins commanded the attention of the room just by the sheer size of him. (Again, Twilight was not easily impressed. But. He was impressed.)
General Watkins - a gigantic man with a stoic moustache - smiled often, but Twilight could only notice because of the way his broomhandle moustache would crinkle at the edges.
And both had a lot to discuss, apparently.
"We should talk dates!" Mr Blackbell - Barnabus, Twilight corrected himself - exclaimed, spilling his drink in his excitement. "And churches!"
"It doesn't have to be in a church," General Watkins' moustache twitched in displeasure, this time. "Any venue of appropriate size will do."
"Oh, you wouldn't say that if you've seen her vision boards!" Barnabus kissed the tips of his fingers. "Mwah! Stunning! A sight to behold"
"Am I in the way here?" said Loid Forger with a well-timed pleasant smile. "I can give you two some space to discuss your private matters…"
"Oh my! How rude of me!" Barnabus gasped, looking genuinely shocked and ashamed of himself. "Please excuse me - yes, quite right - I'm sure we will have much to discuss at a better time!"
Twilight bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the perplexed look on General Watkins' face. He would be willing to bet money that the man had not yet had the pleasure of being introduced to the effervescent Barnabus Blackbell, and it was proving to be quite the memorable experience.
But, this was in his favour, if Barnabus Blackbell was willing to be redirected, perhaps he would be willing once again to revisit their earlier conversation…
"So, your recent business trip," Twilight cleared his throat. "Am I right in thinking that you have a new manufacturing project?"
It did exactly the trick. Mr Barnabus Blackbell launched into another story of ideas he had for new projects, requests by clients, which General Watkins also seemed to be quite invested in, given his proximity to Blackbell Heavy Industries in his own career.
All in all, while it wasn't directly relevant to Operation Strix, Twilight had hoped to use the connections developed inside Eden College to their fullest potential. Hopefully there would be something that he could use to report back to WISE.
"So here I am thinking - well, I can't really trust anybody to lead this project! The first two turned out to have histories of embezzlement and fraud, whereas my recent hire set the bloody place on fire - an accident, but still - and it's leading me to think, well who can I trust? So then I got thinking - well, I've never introduced Becky to my company, and she is around the age where I can start bringing her into the family business, and you know that there's noone you can trust more than flesh and blood! So - keep this between us if you please - but I think Becky would be more than suitable to bring into the project -"
Twilight choked on his drink.
"Excuse me," he dabbed delicately at the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief while the two men looked on in perplexity. "You want Becky to lead a project about developing a new weapon?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong," General Watkins wondered, "but I believe Barnabus is suggesting that Becky will shadow the project, and perhaps have insight into its appropriate leadership."
Barnabus glanced between the two men before sighing dejectedly. "Who am I kidding! It's a terrible idea, isn't it?"
"Perhaps with her new responsibilities as Imperial Scholar-" Twilight began.
"-and preparations for the upcoming union-" General Watkins joined in.
"-now might not be the best time," they finished.
"But certainly, shadowing is a good idea. I have Bill join me at times of-"
Twilight felt his attention drift slightly as some bodies moved in the direction of the Ballroom - the Imperial Scholars, he noticed, with Damian amongst them.
The impulse to call him over was on the tip of his tongue, but Twilight held himself in check. Of course Damian had to fulfil the role that he was in, but all night, Twilight had wondered what the right thing to do was - because he had a job to do, an operation to oversee, but at the same time, guilt twisted in Twilight's gut at the thought that after the Imperial Ball, Damian's life was never going to be the same, and it would be all his fault.
Anya was right. He should have involved Damian earlier, he should have been more honest with him, he should have let him know what was going to happen by the end of the night so that at least when Damian awoke the next morning, he would be prepared for the chaos and carnage that awaited him. So far, Damian had more than proved himself when it came to understanding the truth of the situation, and he had even outdone Twilight's expectations by doing the legwork to put the truth together himself.
But, Twilight had prioritised being a master spy and putting the mission first, and now all he could do was sit back while Damian navigated his world, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.
Twilight owed Damian a great debt - one that would never be repaid fully, but if he showed him more trust… if he would just… tell him…
He still had time. He could call him over, it would be over quickly, but… no. Not now. This was not the sort of talk that Twilight could have in passing. Damian would need some time to absorb the new information, to mentally prepare himself for the next stage of the journey. It would be cruel of Twilight to spring it on him at the last minute.
So, he did nothing, and watched with regret as Damian passed him by with the other Imperial Scholars.
His own hand tightened on his glass, and his jaw tensed, the guilt and worry coursing through him.
A small crackle in his earpiece, and Twilight kept his expression impassively still as the young man's voice came through as quieter than a whisper:
"Everything is in place. Infiltration commencing."
A pause, and a murmur, as some words were exchanged in the background, and Twilight watched, too late, as Damian disappeared into the crowd.
"Also, Mr Briar told me to say 'I hate you'."
Twilight covered his smile with a short sip of his drink. For a long time, Twilight had solely conducted operations alone, relied on no-one else for any assistance, but together with Adrian's insistence and cooperation, Yuri seemed amenable to stopping the shadow board of Project Apple. After all, Ostania was his country to protect.
At the same time, Twilight knew just how out of place Loid Forger would look if he didn't attend the Imperial Ball alongside his daughter. He needed to show face, and redirect scrutiny away from himself as much as possible.
Although he hated to admit it, Yuri had played his part well. He didn't even make a scene when he was introduced to Franky, and now that they were all part of the same plan, everything just needed to fall into place…
At the same time that Loid had gravitated towards the husbands, Yor found herself standing among the wives of Eden College, watching with interest as they chatted amiably together, not even glancing in the direction of the waiters bearing trays of glasses.
"Port, madam?"
"Yes, please-" said Mrs Paulette, at the same time that Mrs Elman cried out: "Absolutely not!
"I only drink champagne. I don't want to get cellulite!" she huffed.
But it seemed that Mrs Elman was the only person of this disposition, and the other ladies politely helped themselves, while giving each small pointed glances. After an unspoken agreement between them, most walked away, leaving Yor alone with Mrs Paulette and Mrs Elman.
Yor tried a little of the port, and it was delicious. Quite possibly one of the loveliest drinks she had ever had.
"Isn't it just? This is the finest age port in Ostania!" smiled Mrs Paulette, and Yor looked up sharply. She didn't realise she had even said anything out loud!
Yor lowered her glass, wondering when her head became so fuzzy. She had to get herself together, before she said anything that she regretted! She couldn't afford to be drunk, not when Loid and Anya were relying on her to keep the family image!
Yor sucked in a deep breath to try and centre herself. She imagined being on an assassin job, when she needed to rely on her skills and ability to analyse her surroundings at all times. If a battle broke out, she needed to be able to detect the threat, and eliminate them. She couldn't afford to relax when Loid and Anya needed her to be on her best behaviour!
In a blink, Yor's surroundings changed completely: the shadows lengthened around her, long enough so that only a subtle waver would easily betray the movement of her prey, and of the two warriors that stood before her. Mrs Elman's blonde hair paled to a bone-white, and she grew to almost twice her size, while Mrs Paulette's already-sharp jaw started to look like it could cut through glass with just a tilt of her head.
The two words stood face to face, readying their weapons. One sharpened a cutlass sword, while the other gripped an iron mallet, glistening black in the darkly-lit arena.
Mrs Paulette moved first, and turned to redirect her attention to Mrs Elman. "Of course, they save the only finest of everything for the Imperial Scholar's events, including the food. You must be so glad that Alice invited you and your son so you can both get such a wonderful taste of what it's like!"
Slash! She swiped through the air at the other warrior with her cutlass sword, splitting the molecules in the air, the first to draw blood in the battle.
Mrs Elman's grip tightened on her champagne, and she smiled politely at Mrs Paulette.
Strong hands tightened around the handle of the iron mallet, calloused with years of training, and she swung it over her shoulder, preparing to put all of her energy into the retaliating strike -
"Oh, he is, but I am just so grateful that without all the responsibility of Imperial Scholarship, he has the time to learn the family business. He'll be running it alongside my husband as soon as he graduates!"
Whoosh! Iron flew so fast from her hands that it pressurised the surrounding air into a thunderclap, and the airflow from the sonic blast whipped through the air, and the force of it pulled the cutlass-bearing warrior to her knees - but the warrior gritted her teeth, resisting with all her strength.
"Oh how darling," Mrs Paulette smiled. "He probably finally learned some ambition from my daughter!"
The warrior raised her head with a snarl, and jabbed her sword forward in a direct strike - but steel clashed against iron in a grating snarl, and the mallet-bearing warrior pulled back for a final, thunderous strike.
"He's very ambitious, you know, with being so close to the Desmond family," Mrs Elman sipped her drink delicately, artfully disguising the smirk of victory on her face.
The two women glared at each other. Mrs Paulette pursed her lips, unsure how to combat that trump card of name-dropping a powerful family.
The cutlass slipped in the warrior's grip, clanging to the floor, while the iron mallet closed in at the warrior's throat.
Mrs Elman saw a moment to strike again. "Damian and Emile are so wonderfully close, they're practically brothers! Don't you think?"
Yor could feel the bloodlust mounting, and it made her head spin. She had to act immediately, before any more blood could be shed!
"Anya speaks so highly of your son," she blurted, turning to the more bloodthirsty of the two. "It was so thoughtful of Emile to comfort Alice after Damian turned her down. He really is such a gentle and kind boy."
The mothers stopped in their tracks, both staring openly at Yor with their eyes wide with disbelief, their grips loose on their respective glasses of port and champagne.
"Damian… turned her down?" Mrs Paulette repeated quietly.
"Gentle?" Mrs Elman squeaked, and then with even more confusion: "Kind?"
Mrs Paulette and Mrs Elman exchanged a perplexed look, and a bead of sweat rolled down the back of Yor's neck. Clearly, pretending that she was in an assassin job wasn't working - to the extent that she had just committed a social sin that she didn't even know existed!
"Oh, I'm sorry," she murmured, her gloved hand covering her mouth in earnest apology. "I… um… Anya told me…"
Mrs Paulett's face pulled taut, and Yor couldn't parse the emotion that had crossed her face.
"Your daughter… told you?"
Yor cursed herself internally. She had never quite felt so out of place in these events, but she must have committed the worst faux-pas in the world for the two mothers to be reacting so strongly to her!
At that moment, Yor noticed the shadows in the corners of her vision moving: students emerged in her vision, and relief flooded through her when she saw a familiar face amongst them.
"Damian! Come over here" Yor called out to him immediately, and Damian jolted, glancing quickly at the other Imperial Scholars, before he peeled away from them and shuffled cautiously up to Yor.
"Hi, Mrs Forger - is something wrong?"
She wondered what he was so scared of. His pulse strengthened at his neck, his eyes couldn't quite settle on her, and when she brought her hands close to his neck, intending to fix his tie, Damian automatically retreated one step back.
Yor furrowed her brow, and tried to think. She and Damian hadn't had a training session in over a week, not since she had revealed her identity to him at dinner.
Was he… afraid of her, after all?
Yor softened and slowed her advance, adjusting her approach to move more deliberately. Hopefully, he would feel more at ease when he saw her intentions.
"You've been pulling at it all evening, you tied it too tight," she admonished him gently, and a flush travelled up Damian's neck.
"Sorry, um, I was in a hurry…"
"Well, we can't have that!" She joked as she undid the silk, and levelled the length of the tie until both sides hung unequally. "We want you to enjoy the night without feeling uncomfortable, right? You have guests to greet after all."
He let out a tired sigh. "Ugh. I don't wanna do it."
"Sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to do. It's important to uphold your commitments." Yor resisted sticking her tongue out as she threaded the tie through the loop and pulled on it gently. "Did you choose this tie?"
"Ewen helped me out. I wasn't sure if it should be plain, or…"
"No, you've chosen a lovely colour!" Yor smiled and patted the final knot with a flourish. "It's got a lovely subtle pattern in it too, I bet Anya thinks it looks wonderful."
"Thanks," Damian blushed.
Yor stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Perfect! That should be more comfortable for you now. How does it feel?"
Damian turned his neck experimentally to either side. "Yeah, I think that's better."
Yor's eyes softened on him as he walked away to rejoin the other students, but when she turned back to the mothers, she jolted to see them watching her with so much interest.
"I used to help my brother with his tie when he was going to school," she explained quickly, but unease built in her insides. What would they think of her being so familiar with Damian? Mrs Elman had just tried to use his name as a trump card, and then suddenly there she was, treating him like part of her own family!
Mrs Paulette spoke first.
"I think Melinda would be happy to know that you have been keeping an eye on her son," she said quietly, and automatically, Yor tried to analyse her tone for any hint of threat, but she couldn't find any.
"I think…" Yor began, and sighed. "Damian puts on a brave face, but I think he wants her here. He misses her."
Uncomfortable silence elapsed once again, and not for the first time that evening, Yor had the distinct feeling that she had said completely the wrong thing.
"It's a shame that she couldn't come today," Mrs Elman agreed, though she too, looked awkward as she said it. "She must be distraught."
Neither she nor Mrs Paulette were quite able to meet Yor's eye, and now Yor definitely knew that she was missing something.
"What happened?"
"Oh you didn't hear?" said Mrs Elman, genuinely surprised. "One of her horses went missing."
"I do hope it wasn't the Camargue…" said Mrs Paulette wistfully, holding the back of her hand to her forehead in a dramatic sigh.
"Did she love it very much?" said Yor, still not sure why a missing horse (of all things) would stop a mother from supporting her child.
"It was her best performing one!" Mrs Paulette moved her hand to her heart in genuine regret.
"Yes, I was going to bet on her at the next race," Mrs Elman shook her head sadly, but at her words, Mrs Paulette perked up with interest.
"I was going to bet on the Belgian Warmblood - you know the one that the Feins have?"
"Oh, that one has a gorgeous colouration!"
Yor chewed the inside of her lip with uncertainty. She had heard people talk about horse racing before, given that it was a popular sport of parents at Eden College, but Yor never quite stopped feeling out of her depth when it came to joining into the conversation.
"I prefer Thoroughbreds," said a strong female voice, and all three women turned as one to the statuesque Mrs Watkins.
With the wine creating a pleasant buzz in her mind, Yor hadn't noticed Mrs Watkins' approach, nor had she truly appreciated her in her true splendour until right at that very moment. While she was not as tall as her husband, Mrs Watkins still had a very imposing presence, where one might take one look at her and think that she was carved from marble, larger than life and meant to be gazed upon and admired.
Before her was a very clearly powerful woman, draped in a lavender chiffon gown that flowed around her, a gentle and feminine contrast to Yor's arterial red. Her soft blonde hair had been curled to one side, just barely touching the asymmetrical neckline that highlighted her shapely muscles, and if anything, made her look even more Olympian.
In short, Yor didn't think that she had ever met a more beautiful woman.
Yor had to concentrate to close her mouth, and blink the stars out of her eyes, but after a glance to her counterparts, Yor was shocked to see the other mothers shift their stances awkwardly, and avert their eyes from the giant woman before them.
She almost didn't notice the conversation continuing without her.
"Now that is an elegant choice," Mrs Paulette conceded, shifting her stance slightly to take a small step away from Mrs Watkins. "I haven't witnessed the power of Thoroughbreds, but I hear yours are excellent."
"Indeed they are," Mrs Watkins intoned elegantly, and despite the elements of bass in her voice, her voice carried crisp and clear. "My horses are extremely well taken care of. If any of mine disappeared, I would be beside myself with grief."
Yor didn't know why she nodded along with the other mothers, but in any case, she was glad for them to put a stop to the awkwardness of their previous conversation. It was disappointing that she still had so much more to learn in terms of what the mothers of the elite clearly valued.
With the conversation back to something more comfortable, Mrs Paulette and Mrs Elman returned to their usual bickering, and Yor felt compelled to say something to stop it before Mrs Watkins put a calm and reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"Leave them," she murmured. "Bickering is really their favourite hobby, but I'm sure we could enjoy a discussion, just the two of us."
Yor beamed into her glass, returning Mrs Watkin's smile.
Adrian clicked off the transmitter, and gave Yuri a dead-eyed stare. "You didn't have to announce how much you hate him. He already knows."
Yuri hmphed, and turned his face away in a huff. "Shut up. It doesn't hurt to remind him that he's a traitorous asshole."
"That makes two of you," said Franky coolly. "You're both pricks, just as bad as each other."
Franky had stuck his tongue out as he pressed his ear against the wood, while he twiddled several thin objects in the door's lock.
The mechanism clicked, and Franky pumped his fist. "Still got it!"
"Yeah, yeah, just let us in already," Yuri hissed from the corner of his mouth. "I swear, after this I'm gonna hunt you all down and have you executed."
"Sure you will, big boy! And then your sister will never forgive you or speak to you again," Franky rolled his eyes while Yuri growled in the background, before ushering them both through the door. "Now hurry up. We've only got a few hours to do this."
Through the door was a scene of pitch-black, and Adrian was aghast to discover that he had to feel his way inside.
"It's so dark in here - ow!"
In the dark, Yuri slapped Adrian's hand away from the light switch.
"Are you crazy? Just tell the entire world we're here, why don't you!"
"We're gonna have to operate the machines somehow!" Adrian protested. "I'm not planning to waste the articles that Twilight made for us!"
"Yeah, that's why I got you these," siad Franky, and even though none of them could see each other, they could still hear the grin in Franky's voice, right before a light shone in both of their faces.
"Head torch!" he exclaimed, and Adrian imagined that Franky was probably beaming with pride, although he was too blinded by the light to see.
Then, something solid was pushed into his hands, and Adrian grasped it quickly.
Adrian kept his lips shut as he secured the head torch to his head - or tried to, anyway. After some assistance from Yuri, he grabbed one of the stacks of papers from the suitcase he had dragged in. He couldn't see the words in the dark, but he knew what they said. He had proof-read the articles a hundred times, checked the sources, almost to the point that he knew them off by heart.
Never in a million years did Adrian ever think he would pull off something like this, but there he was, with a First Lieutenant of the State Security Service, and Twilight's very own informant.
Adrian hugged the papers to his chest, grateful for the darkness that hid the emotions that crossed his face. After this, Donovan Desmond, the Investor would be finished. It would be the biggest "Fuck You" to the Director since Twilight managed to take down the lab the first time.
After all this time. He could stop the lab from being built. He could make sure he and the other Subjects would never have to suffer at the Director's hand, ever again.
"Honestly," Yuri grumbled, and then grunted as he hauled away his own piles of papers. "Why does that bastard get to schmooze and drink while we're doing his dirty work?"
"Because, nitwit," said Franky. "The SSS is already pretty busy guarding the fat cats at the Imperial Ball, and he's gotta show face. Can't have them suspecting Twilight when it all goes south."
The light from his torch bobbed up and down, as though the person beneath it had just jumped from excitement.
"Now, let's get printing!"
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Mrs Paulette and Mrs Elman are actually best friends lol
No joke, my inspiration for Mrs Watkins is Opal from Steven Universe. When I first saw Opal onscreen I was blown away just like Steven and I fell in love with her elegant and deep voice so I imagine Yor is similarly blown away by this giant warrior woman hahaha (And also Loid is *impressed* by General Watkins' stature)(basically the Forgers love giant people)(also there's just a little bit of bi energy here because why not)
I know the pacing in this chapter is a little slow, but I promise there's important stuff being covered. And well, you can probably feel that the pace is about to pick up in the next few chapters anyway 😅
Next Wednesday: The Imperial Ball (Part Three)
In which we see Damian's POV, and finally some more Damianya 👀