Lance's Role

by Thrudgelmir2333

A 'shonen' fic that sequels Next Dimension and Lost Canvas. In 1960, the Pope of Athena receives three prophecies from an old enemy that irremediably set the course of his reign over Sanctuary's tragic history and almost two decades later a Saint of Pegasus finds himself put through the unfolding of a new age of violence caused by the Pope's actions. Please enjoy and review.

18. 1A: Ghouls n'Roses - Part 1 of 4

Notable OCs: Pegasus Lance's Bronze Saint Generation; Heracles Aguilon Silver Saint Generation; Gemini Akassius' Gold Saint Generation; Daemon Lucifer

Notable Original Concepts: Training Ground; Sanctuary forts, outposts, villages and institutions; Sanctuary Court; Teos & Athenian Empire mythology;

Recurring/Cameo Ocs of Jenny DeVic: Mrs. Schafurwatt

Recurring/Cameo Concepts of Jenny DeVic: Great Bodyguard Legend; Golden Line Heritage; Sanctuary Orphanages; Andromeda Island's Geography & Tests; Sanctuary Nobility

Author's Note: 250k words as of now, and yet catching up with the second version is still such a long way ahead.

Please enjoy and review.

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"Your House always had a troubled history. Ever since its humble beginnings as the palace of the Zodiac Knight, who played the necromancer's role amongst the twelve original warriors of Athena, it has been guarded by warriors who've seen their role both inside and outside war diminished, ridiculed and compared to that of the local gravedigger over the centuries, its integrity and devotion no less mercilessly tested for that. There are many who would say its fate falls short of the curses endured by the poor Gemini Saints who over the years have been forcefully confronted with their darker sides, but few can contest it is one of the grimmest and most infamous roles in all of Sanctuary.

It seems this century brought no respite to its bad fame, perhaps even peaking the depravity of the Fourth Temple's chronicles; it has seen a total of four Cancer Saints, all who've proven themselves in a short span of time as traitors, murderers and thieves. I would blame Pope Arles III for his poor judgment regarding Gold Saint candidates, or maybe perhaps, there's just something 'wrong' or 'evil' with the Cancer Cloth.

Personally, though, I think this long story of dementia, aggression and dishonor is merely what happens when they give paupers like you the power to flip the Grim Reaper off."

-King Aezrel of the 'Wide Realm', to the Argonaut Captain, Battle of Peloponesia (1979).

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The port of Sanctuary Town was bustling with people that morning. The capital city of Sanctuary was not directly connected to the sea to the naked eye, but instead possessed a 'lagoon' with a masked passage to the gulf of Corinth through the southern mountains, allowing fishing vessels and transports to reach the internal port. Tourism was obviously not an option for the supposedly secret city and the dark rock beaches that used to encircle the lagoon were an ugly sight to look at. The coastal infrastructures not only completely covered access to the water but were entirely dedicated to the military and fishing communities demands.

The aprons of fishing women and armors of foot soldiers were thus the most common sight in those streets, causing the two passing Gold Saints to stand out just a bit despite their incognito clothes. Lance turned to Saga as he made his way through the streets. He planned to take a ship to the western Mediterranean, so as to carry out his latest mission, but he wondered why the Gemini Gold Saint had decided to accompany him to the port. The blue-haired youth was not at all unfriendly, but seemed at his most comfortable around the Golden Zodiac, where he spent his time training, studying, conversing with Aiolos or seeking advice from the Pope.

As such, it surprised Lance to be walking with him through one of the busiest and dirtiest areas in Sanctuary Town. Saga didn't seem particularly bothered by the stenches of hard work, greasy machines, salted sailors and unscaled fish; he actually seemed fascinated by the environment.

"I don't see why I need to get to the island by boat, I could use light speed and arrive just fine," argued the Cancer Saint. "It would certainly save me the trouble of having to risk exposing the Cancer Cloth box to a bunch of sailors."

"Why not leave it at the temple, then?" wondered Saga. "Besides, the Isle of Gardens is protected by blessings like the ones around Sanctuary. A lot of places like it are. You can't even take a ship there without knowing the right currents. You could try to light leap there, but chances are you'd be diverted away like a ricocheted bullet. How much in the mood are you to acquaint yourself with Mediterranean sealife?"

"None, but couldn't you help me with that? You're the one supposed to be able to manipulate space, right? Can't you just build me a gate with Another Dimension to the god forsaken place?"

Saga scratched his chin in thought. "Interesting hypothesis. Do you have six weeks to spare? That should be enough for me to build a safe path around the multidimensional currents." He smirked as Lance rolled his eyes. "By boat it is, then."

"Why did you come with me, anyway?"

Saga looked around at the busy port streets and warehouses. "No special reason other than curiosity; these kinds of places are the very base of Sanctuary's fragile economy. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to keep the budget on the green when your entire raw domestic production comes from places that aren't supposed to exist in the first place." He laid out his hands at the sheer movement around him. "In the end, so many people work in these places and they represent such a small, yet so vital, part of our treasury. It's not like we can borrow money from banks or attract private investment since we're not legally supposed to exist, so it's thanks to ports like these that Gold Saints like us are kept fed and happy."

"Uh-uh...that's...pretty fascinating, Saga." answered the Cancer Saint, who tried his best to feign interest.

"It is, isn't it? Still, it's nothing compared to the grander schemes of things. Nothing ever is. I'm glad I managed to return to Sanctuary before you left off. Another couple of hours and we would have missed each other on your way out."

Though he couldn't say he didn't enjoy Saga's presence, the older Saint failed to see the big tragedy in it. "Well, the Pope ordered me this assignment as soon as I got here and… I'm not gonna lie to you, Saga, I don't exactly have ants in my pants about being back in Sanctuary Town."

"Really? How come?"

Lance's red irises saw a group of passing sailors and foot soldiers giving him the look. "Give it a couple of minutes. I'm sure someone will show you why."

There was a gesture of dismissal from Saga's hand. "Don't somber over it; you're a Gold Saint now. You're in a higher stature of Sanctuary's society and the fact you can't walk into the nearest bar without getting punched shouldn't be your top concern right now, should it?" Saga touched his chin in reflection. "I mean… I don't drink or anything so it's not like-"

"You don't need first hand perspective on booze to know how filthy those places are, Saga. I wouldn't be caught dead near them, much less drinking their stuff. Speaking of which." Lance added as they passed by the local tavern, where a group of foot soldiers seemed to be resting.

One of them tapped the captain's arm to call his attention to the two young bystanders. The large, bearded man in his thirties stood up from his seat and confronted Lance. "Well, look what we have here. It's the Pegasus Saint. What an honor, right guys?"

Saga stepped back as he saw the subordinates agreeing with nods, small grunts and mumbles of encouragement. Lance instantly raised his guard and subconsciously took a protective step by Saga, even though the Gemini Gold Saint was capable of blowing up that street far easier than even the Cancer Saint could.

"You're the group that was assigned to me for this mission, right?" asked Lance, who made little effort to ease the tension in the scene. "Do you want to come or what?"

"Sure, sure, Saint Lance." the captain agreed, his smile letting how it stank of alcohol. "We'll be your bodyguards for this mission. It's just that… what are you doing around here?"

Both Lance and Saga raised a brow. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't you know?" asked the captain, whose subordinates started getting up from their seats. "This is a place for real Saints… real warriors who've completed their paths and fight honorably… not for cowards who attack their Masters!"

Lance was about to answer something when a huge fist suddenly crashed with his mouth, knocking him to the ground and distorting his senses. Saga gasped and the attention of the crowd was drawn to the floored Saint with a bloody mouth and the soldiers walking away.

"Wipe yourself off!" dissed the last passing soldier. "You're dirtying the floorboard!"

With blue eyes widened in shock and outrage, Saga helped Lance back on his feet and passed him an handkerchief. "Holy sh-… Lance, are you alright?"

An angered growl was heard from the teen as he cleaned the red off his face. "...Guess I'll be going solo, then. F-fine by me."

"What the hell was that?!" Saga demanded to know, not believing someone would dare to treat a Saint like this despite his own violent experiences at the orphanages he once staid on. "They just jump on you in the street?! I should call the guard right now-"

"They are the guard, remember?" The red-eyed Saint coughed, conformed with what was an already expected unpopularity. He felt his fists tightening and the need to get a payback inflamed his heart, but the Cancer Saint, to his own surprise, was able to take a deep breath and walk it off. "It's fine, Saga… I haven't been popular with the foot soldiers since..."

"Since you beat up Kastiel?"

It was Lance's turn to widen his eyes, as he was not aware Saga knew of this bit of his past. Recalling the meeting the gold Saints had about him six months earlier, the Cancer Saint calculated that the Pope probably told them everything there was to know. A sudden feeling of disarmament came over the Saint, who realized all of a sudden that his life was open to the entire Golden Zodiac while he barely knew where the kids came from.

The pair of Gold Saints walked off the area, intending to go to the shipyards where Lance's transportation awaited. Still reeling from the scandalous situation of seeing a Gold Saint comrade humiliated in the street by a group of undisciplined troops, the young Saga had half a mind to tell this to the Pope.

"How could something like this happen? How can they just do this and walk off scot-free?! This is shameful!"

Strangely enough, Lance felt himself chuckling at this after all he learned in Rozan. "You know, six months ago I'd probably feel like you, but now I'll just wonder how the same didn't happen to me when I beat up that prick Kastiel in the Coliseum. It's fine, Saga, I've learned a long time ago that honor is subjective around these parts."

Saga scoffed. "Tell that to Shura. He'd probably cut their hands off in my place; he can be a true blood knight when it comes to those things." Lance didn't how to answer since he didn't really know the soon-to-be Capricorn Saint. "I'm afraid he's inherited every bit of the sense of zealous chivalry Kirin had. Hopefully that won't get him in trouble once he assumes his post."

By then the two Gold Saints were entering the area where Lance's ship was supposed to be located. He watched Saga walk by his side still with the same dignified young face probably still musing over what happened at the tavern. "You're so concerned about that? You're a bit of a perfectionist to everything around you, huh?"

"I'll have to be." Saga affirmed, his tone filled with resolve. "Soon the old generation will depart, leaving us in charge. I don't want our youth and inexperience to hinder our success as the new guardians of the temples. I'll make sure that we rise as an even greater group of Gold Saints and change things in Sanctuary for the better."

"That's pretty ambitious for a group of preteens."

"Don't think that discourages me. I won't let anything like that stand in the way of us reaching the same glory as our predecessors." assured Saga, his fist clenching in vow. "I want to leave my mark and I won't let anything stand in the way of that."

Lance pondered Saga's words, realizing the blue-haired youth had a clear resolve to lead their generation. "Hm...What makes you think what you want will even matter?"

Saga halted immediately and turned to him. "...I'm one of the oldest, as well as one of the most experienced. Holy War will soon come and both the gold Saints and the people will look up to the most hardened in the arts of war."

There was a skeptical folding of arms from Lance. "Big whoop; from that perspective I'm more qualified than you'll ever be."

Saga staggered "Well, I-" He bit his lip in hesitation, stunned at the sudden confrontation he was being subject to. Lance didn't seem particularly upset or aggressive in his counterargument, but Saga all of a sudden felt as if an unexpected block on the road had been place before him. He touched his own chest. "I have studied for my post all my life and I have trained extremely hard. I know the mistakes the past generations have made and I won't have them repeated!" His hand waved away dramatically. "Though Holy War is approaching, there will still be twenty years of preparations to make use of. I'm sure you agree that no one among us is more qualified than I am to represent the Gold Saints or even take decisions for us in that time?!"

Lance's eyes looked around for the ship he needed while he thought about Saga's words. It was true that the Gemini Saint had an insight in management and easiness with a crowd that the introverted warrior would never have. Though Lance was older by a few turns of the earth, he doubted the small difference would matter in five years once Saga became an adult. Most of the kids looked up to the Gemini Saint thanks to his intelligence, power and charisma. There was no doubt they would need someone truly extraordinary to lead them and not a maladjusted fighter still unsure about his own destiny.

Sensing that his comrade was not fully convinced, Saga's words continued. "The Pope trusts me to lead the Gold Saints. He confides to me wisdom and advice he does not with others. You know I'm worthy, don't you, Lance?" He suddenly grabbed the Cancer's arm to fully get his attention. "I could count on your support… just like at the vote you could count on mine, correct?"

Lance narrowed his eyes. Saga was trying way too hard to convince him of something brought out of nowhere that Lance had no particular interest in anyway. What was he truly after? "Saga, I'm very busy, I'll soon have to fetch another comrade for our ranks. What the hell is this all about, huh? What the heck do you want, following me around like this today?"

The Gemini Saint stepped back, carefully measuring his words before spouting them out. "I know you spoke with the Pope for quite a while last night. He must have told you about the retiring Gold Saints, right?"

"Actually, no, Saga, he wouldn't get around to that. I had to find out through Shinta."

"It's quite a dramatic power shift, isn't it? And so suddenly, too. Does it make you think about what might be going on and what might change in the future? Soon, the future of Sanctuary will be entirely entrusted to our hands without so much of a decent explanation for the departure. When I first joined the ranks, I thought such opportunity would not rise for another decade." Saga's eyes wavered to the streets around them, predicting the responsibilities he would soon take over. "Me and Aiolos have always been rivals, always the top of the class wherever life took us, but he has always been simply a well-meaning warrior, not a leader. His full, blind dedication to others is admirable, but limits his vision. It falls on me to fulfill the role he cannot."

The Cancer Saint was deep in thought, and realized that Saga's words fitted to a 't' with Aiolos. Lance had always seen the Sagittarius tending to others, always anxious to help out at the hospital, humor the kids, ease the insecurities of his comrades and offering assistance and advice. This made him an admirable youth of astonishing goodwill and incorruptible spirit, but Lance had seen many like him before and had to agree it did not make you automatically a proper lighthouse to follow in wartime.

Was Saga then trying to approach Lance with some sort of political alliance? He did not imagine that he would see himself involved in this kind of intrigue so soon in his stay at the Cancer House and felt even more taken aback at the thirteen-years old teen before him being the one to introduce him to it. Still, who was Saga to admit himself as a better candidate? Intelligent as he may be, nothing guaranteed his adequacy, either. For him to play such an active role in the chessboard of Sanctuary's politics and to try and drag him into it was kind of an arrogant thing to do.

In the end, what concerned Lance the most was that both Saga and Aiolos inspired the other young Gold Saints and while they were cooperating now, what will happen when the older Gold Saints left the picture? Would the path towards who would become the next Pope drive the two Gold Saints as well as the rest of Sanctuary into conflict?

He rubbed his head, realizing what kind of reasoning his train of thoughts were leading into. As always, Lance was starting to look at the military aspect of the matter, a habit his time in assault missions had forced him to adopt. Shinta had always criticized him for not considering the humane side of things when doing this, such as when he stopped Lance from killing the Black Saint Ray. It was obvious that forcing Saga to cooperate with Aiolos would solve the unity problem but would also hurt the group on the inside by neglecting the cause of animosity. It was proof that he himself was not a match to Saga in terms of leadership; good as he may be at combat, Lance just couldn't handle people.

Noticing Saga still expected some sort of answer, Lance put on his serious face and obliged him with his opinion. "You sell Aiolos too short. You talk as if you'll soon be at war with him, too."

"You doubt that we won't be adversaries?"

"No, I just think you're assuming the worst far too quickly." Lance then squinted sharply, trying to uncover Saga's motivations. It was enough to cause the younger Gold Saint to let a drop of sweat down his face. This nervousness clearly showed that Saga, for some mysterious reason, believed Lance would be an important chess piece in the future of the Golden Zodiac. "I don't mind backing your decisions in court, if that's what you want."

Saga smiled all of a sudden. "Excellent, I knew I could-"

"If you're really so worthy of the post you desire among us, however," interrupted Lance, putting a disapproving hand on his hip, "then I don't know why you feel so threatened by Aiolos to the point of putting me up to all this bullshit, because your superiority would eventually become clear by itself and you would have everyone's support without having to go around Aiolos' back."

Saga gulped almost imperceptibly. "Well...I'm sure you know nothing is so certain or pure in politics. It's always important to secure your friendships when all it could take to ruin your plans is an unplanned vote against you." He then tried to show off as friendly of a smile as he could. He had expected his steps to have been executed much more smoothly, but Saga took Lance's lack of interest in domestic affairs for granted and ended up teasing the lion too much. Now the Cancer Saint was on to him and Goddess knew how much this would get in his way in the future. Saga had to set things straight by acting natural. "Only those who ensure their success can actually achieve it. Aiolos is my friend, but my priority is Sanctuary. Its safety should be the most important thing to take in mind, not preserving the purity of a friendship."

Lance folded his arms, seeing more sincerity and sense but still hesitant to let his guard down. "...I suppose."

Saga changed the topic. "I assume the comrade you'll be recruiting is Aphrodite. What do you think of this assignment?"

The Cancer Saint shrugged his shoulders. "All I have to do is go to some weird island and await the completion of the final rituals, right? It's not particularly exciting, but anything to get out of Sanctuary is fine by me. What could possibly go wrong?" He then recalled all those other missions that couldn't possibly go wrong like Ismara and Andromeda Island. Andromeda wasn't even supposed to be a mission in the first place. "Maybe I shouldn't be assuming that out loud… Do you know something about this kid? All I got is the ID on the files. I don't even know his real name."

The Gemini Saint held his chin. "Aphrodite...I know I've seen him briefly in Sanctuary a few years back. I remember because I thought he was a girl. He didn't seem interested in talking or playing around. I don't think he felt like he fit in with the other orphans so he kept to himself."

Feeling a sudden empathy with the Pisces candidate, Lance queried further. "Oh… Was he bullied?"

Saga laughed all of a sudden. "He was, but that's what you got for picking a female name for yourself at preschool. Aphrodite was pretty quick to establish how deadly he was to everyone, though. Part of the reason he was sent away was because he shoved a rose thorn through the throat of a kid who riled him up. The whole town was running scared of him after that." He saw the startled look on Lance's face. "The bully was fine; if anything, he's got a new breathing hole. I remember that Aiolos wanted to look into Aphrodite's case back in the day, but then the kid got sent to the Isle of Gardens so the subject was dropped."

"Okay… so we're admitting an isolated little psycho into our ranks."

"Why do you think your promotions were so controversial?"

"Hey, I never stabbed anyone!… outside a mission, that is!" Lance defended himself as he finally found the transport vessel that would take him to the Isle. If the foot soldiers were so unenthusiastic about keeping him company, then he could just get over with the departure and save some time. "Well, Saga, I'll see what I can do with this kid. I mean, it's not like his admission is gonna depend in any way on me, but I'll try to keep him out of trouble on the way back."

Saga responded rather surprisingly, stopping Lance from getting on the ship and going straight to the point. "Yes, that's also something I wanted to ask you about, Lance. What is the point of this mission? Why is Shion sending a Gold Saint to pick up another one?"

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence between the two Gold Saints, as Lance, despite not wanting to say it out loud, had similar reservations regarding his mission. He also thought it seemed like overkill to send a full fledged Gold Rank to what was essentially a pick up job easily covered by Aphrodite's own two damn light speed feet. Unlike Saga, however, Lance was aware of the nastier details of the assignment through the side-notes on the files but wasn't allowed, at least just then, to divulge it.

After thinking over his words carefully, he finally answered Saga. "Well, it's a precaution. Who knows who could get in the way of the task. It's not like my missions have been devoid of nasty surprises over the years, right?"

Taking in the meaning of the coded phrasing, Saga assumed the eldest comrade of his generation was not allowed to tell him what was going on and formed a knowing 'o' with his mouth.

The captain of the small vessel passed by and gave 'Pegasus' Lance an inquisitive look. Lance showed him his papers to confirm his identity and the mission and was asked by the veteran seaman to hurry it up with Saga.

The planks to the boat were pulled in and the ship was dis-anchored, signaling departure. He waved goodbye at his Cancer comrade and wished him luck while imagining what sordid dimensions hid in this particular task that Shion thought would be best dealt with by a military lynchpin of Sanctuary.

He stepped away from the breakwaters and made his way back to the central streets of Sanctuary Town as his thoughts turned to other matters. His conversation and attempt to secure Lance's friendship had been a blunder; Saga had been too brash and unsubtle in his words and ended up painting a dark picture of himself to one of his most important colleagues. He obviously still had much to learn in the art of persuasion, but by far the most embarrassing was the aggressiveness he displayed in his attempts to disregard Aiolos as a political rival.

Athena, what was he thinking? Lance was right; of course Saga's superior skills at court and desk would prove themselves by themselves for all to see sooner or later. Aiolos, who always preferred more direct and ideological methods, could never impress the other Gold Saints or even the Pope in terms of leadership. Talking trash about him to the others would only end up getting Saga colored as the bad guy. It was definitely something Kanon would do, not himself.

Goddess, did that fact irritate him. As if the blunder was not enough of an embarrassment, now he was stepping into his deranged twin's methods. To Saga, this was worse than any personal failure.

He dispelled such self-reprehending thoughts and instead pondered on the ultimate objective of Lance's mission; ensuring Aphrodite's safe arrival to the Zodiac. Shura would arrive soon enough while Camus and Milo already consolidated their presence. He had to make sure to take deep steps into the Golden Zodiac's political plain and ensure the favor of these four while trying to ensure Lance he meant no harm, all without 'eliminating' anyone like Kanon always suggested. He would show the true brilliance of his leadership talent not by scaring others into submission, but impressing and befriending them into respecting the Gemini Saint.

And this would ensure him the Pope's favor more than any war effort or closed-doors voting could.

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Chapter 18

First Arc

Episode 14

Ghouls n'Roses – Part 1 of 2

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Hours Later…

Syracuse, Italy

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Founded as early as eighth century BC, the famous city of Syracuse was one of the most important landmarks of Greco-Roman heritage in the world. Once the capital of 'Magna Graecia', home of Archimedes and greatest of all Greek colonies, the Sicilian city also played a much endeared cultural and historical role to Sanctuary. Having expanded far beyond its original size as a far off ally of Sparta and Corinth and been an extremely well known city in a very badly hidden space, the magnificent relic of Mediterranean glory could not hope to be part of the league of city-states fortresses and allies still within Sanctuary's sphere of influence.

However, said cultural role ensured the interest of Sanctuary's people in preserving its link with the city remained preserved. It was obvious the people of Syracuse knew not what cosmos was, much less the true power of the Hellenic Church, but so many secret infrastructures, offices, merchants and footholds from Sanctuary had ingrained themselves in the urban center that it enjoyed an intriguing status of semi-city-state, in which Sanctuary's agents and people could act and live there more directly, but not so much to the point that they could so publicly. Many private enterprises were safeguarded from government investigation. Most of these were warehouses, dock spaces and supply depots, which allowed Sanctuary's military, plutocrats, magistrates and even common folk to conduct business and operations there, such as buying fuel for motor ships.

Cancer Lance, disguised to the Sanctuary fishermen as Pegasus Lance and, in turn, disguised to everybody else as an exchange student taking a ride on a Greek fishing boat in a tour through Southern Europe, carefully packed the enormous box of gold engraved with a crab carving inside the backpack decorated with the Greek flag and made his way out of the inner rooms of the small vessel. He covered his eyes from the hot Italian sun and was immediately greeted by the historical streets of the city, richly decorated by fortified coasts, white stone buildings and entire sections reconstructed from the World War II bombings.

He barely had time to take a deep breath of the salted air before a nearby young fisherman called his attention. "Saint Lance? Dad- I mean, the captain called you. He's having trouble with the city guard."

The concealed Gold Saint nodded and made his way out of the ship and into the stone paved docks. His red eyes detected a number of other ships belonging to Sanctuary's people amongst the many docked boats. It didn't take long before he managed to come up to the owner of the ship that brought him in and saw him arguing with a normal-looking policeman.

"I don't understand why are you giving me so much trouble!" protested the captain in Greek. "I told you, I just want to get some fuel. I have to get to 'Palma de Mallorca' by the end of the day if I want to meet my quota. Just let me fill the engine and I'll be on my way!"

The Sicilian guard, however, was inflexible. "Not so fast. This fishing vessel gave no radio communication that you were about to dock. You barely have any documentation and we're getting no confirmation back from Athens about your ship. You are all in a highly suspicious situation. I may have to search your vessel if you don't cooperate, sir!" he demanded, surprisingly in Greek. Lance assumed the city probably received a lot of Greek tourists due to its history or maybe they just called the polyglot guard specifically when they discovered the ships was 'supposedly from Greece'.

"I was having trouble with the ship because my idiot kid forgot to fill the fuel tank back in Athens! It was an emergency stop. I never planned on docking here so I didn't bring the right papers." He saw the guard squinting and turned to Lance. "Well, looks like you won't get to your party at Ibiza. If only someone responsible for this dock was called, huh?"

Lance didn't see how he could call an authority from Sanctuary without blowing both his two disguises. "Yeah, that's a shame, uncle Narkis. Looks like we're stuck here 'till you figure this out." The captain returned a rather poisonous look so Lance decided to get it over with. He approached the guard. "Can't you call whomever is responsible for these docks so we can straighten things out? I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding."

The agent's walkie-talkie mumbled something in Italian, probably more incriminating details about the Greek visitors. After confirming reception, the policeman was joined by his partner and enforced the detention. "The only misunderstanding is yours, sir, for you have no idea how much trouble you're in. If you don't accompany me to the police station, I'm afraid I'll have to-"

"Excuse me, is something wrong?" a newly arrived party asked.

The captain sighed in relief, the guards backed off and Lance widened his eyes in shock.

None other than Adriana Ghisi, the peculiar noblewoman Lance met at the party in Kastoria six months earlier, showed up in her informal tourist outfit and lacking the treasured rapier she brought to Akassius' festivity. She showed off her identification to the guards, who nodded in accordance to her being the supposed manager of the dock section and allowed her to take control of the situation.

After skimming her eyes at the suspicious fishing boat, she pretended to not recognize Lance and dismissed the policemen. "It's fine. This happens all the time. The supply contract is new, but I own this fishing operation." Adriana then allowed the guards to get a verbal confirmation from the captain. "I'll work over the papers by the end of the day. Good day, officers."

The two Greek men watched the guards nod an apology and goodbye before departing to the remainder of their patrol. The captain shook her hand. "Thank you, miss. You saved my day here. It's a good thing you were around."

"It's fine, captain Narkis. Will you excuse me, for a moment? I want to speak to Saint Lance to work out the details of this cover up." The noblewoman waited for the sailor to go back to his affairs before turning her delighted attention to the Gold Saint, proceeding to give a discreet, respectful bow. "Well, what a coincidence. It's such a pleasure to meet you again, Lord Lance."

"Yes… such an amazing coincidence I actually doubt it was one! What in blazes are you doing here?!" he demanded to know.

She blinked her eyes, taken aback, and took a step away from the riled Saint. "Well, I'm here to represent Sanctuary for this dock… for now, at least. It's my responsibility to ensure the state of Italy doesn't know about your little stops in their sovereign territory. As you know, Syracuse enjoys a special role in Sanctuary's influence, so it's convenient our infiltrated staff rotates, including the higher-ups, thus reducing the risk of security being compromised."

"And what, you just decided to take a shift here exactly at the same time I'm given an assignment that just happens to stop by Syracuse?!"

She waved her silver-ringed hand at the town. "Well, yes, have you looked at this sun? These clear Mediterranean waters? These amazing historical buildings? A few months supervising ins and outs at the dock are nothing compared to the amazing vacation visiting this place is." Adriana complimented, though her pale skin made him doubt she had spent any time outside the office, let alone at the beach.

Lance folded his arms. "Don't you have some sort of family business to take care off?"

"I told you I did other things, did I not? My parents can get off their 'mégots' and handle things for a while every now and then while I go touring. Though, if you excuse me, Lance" the elegant blonde worded, coughing to her hand delicately and referring to the Saint's refusal to be treated like his title demanded, "it sounds to me from your story that the coincidence is entirely on your part. I've been here for a few weeks already and you just happened to show up unannounced… causing quite the bureaucratic mess, I must say."

The Cancer Saint grumbled to himself and sighed. "Well,... I guess you're right. I would say I was sorry, but I'm just in charge of the killing and torturing. I wasn't suppose to assume the captain had faulty papers. Sagitta Nam's the one handling the paperwork back at the MMC."

She humphed, looking away in resignation. "Yes, I know of him. Don't feel so bad; a halfway apology is more than I ever got from your old generation for meddling in my family's business and increasing my workload."

The two of them walked together into town. Now that Lance thought of it, there really wasn't anything particularly strange in Adriana's presence there outside the sheer coincidence of the situation. Moreover, the mention of the old generation of Gold Saints brought back the conversation he had with Saga about their retirement. Adriana shouldn't be aware of it just yet, but since she maintained contacts with the servants in Sanctuary, then maybe she knew more than she let on.

His suspicious nature immediately assumed the worst. What guarantee was there that Adriana knew not already of the future power shift in Sanctuary and was there just to score points with who would become one of the major pieces of the new Golden Zodiac?

"God, look at me. It's like ever since I found out about them leaving I'm just assuming the worst about everyone's intentions! Maybe Master Dohko is right and I really am way too intense with people..." Lance realized. "Then again Saga coming up at me with that collaboration talk doesn't exactly disprove my paranoia. Nah, I better stick with my mindset; Master's the one always saying I should be honest with myself, so screw it!"

"Something on your mind?"

"Just thinking of a way to make it up to you for all your trouble." Lance lied. "I wouldn't want the person with so much power over the decision of who handles my undies to have a reason to resent me."

She chuckled. "I do have too much power for everyone's good."

"Don't push it, I can just as easily vacate the entire Cancer Temple if I need to. I don't need anyone to take care of me, much less your people on the inside." he warned, his sense of humor as out of sight as ever.

Feeling an idea coming to her head, she smiled slily and twisted the subject. "Well, if you're so worried about it, there is something you could do for me with your killing and torturing skills. I've run into a bit of a problem during my time here; seems like the last responsible was aware of it but neglected to report to the Pope. Quite frankly, I'm not in the mood of assuming the responsibility for leaving it unhanded, especially after the murders."

"What?! Murders?! What are you talking about?"

She gestured to follow her into the city, to which he conceded. As the two sanctuary dwellers entered the inner works of one of the oldest cities in Europe, Adriana decided to give out more details. "It seems like there is a 'ghoul' problem in the region. This is a top tourist spot so pickpocketing isn't exactly news, but… Well, when people start talking about ghost sightings and killings together with a string of thefts, its safe to assume that something of Sanctuary's interest is going on. If it doesn't take too much time from your schedule, I was hoping you could spend an hour or two looking into it before leaving."

"Not to toot my own horn, but you do realize you're asking a lion to get rid of your rat problem? I mean, the very fact of it terrifies me, but I got enough firepower in this backpack to blow up the city, remember?" confronted Lance, hoping Adriana wasn't wasting his time.

"Isn't your house the one specialized in spirits?" she asked, rendering his argument asunder. "Lance, I'm just having trouble with what is most likely a Black Saint looter playing around with his powers and making people think there are ghosts running around in the bad neighborhoods. The current Cancer Saint just happens to stop by here on his way to some mission and now owes me a small favor. Call it inappropriate if you want… but I just thought it was the perfect opportunity to join efforts and give you something to do while you're stuck around here."

Before Lance could even counter argue, the voice of Karkinos, the Cancer Gold Cloth, emanated in his head in the form of telepathy. "The human girl is right; it is your direct responsibility to handle incidents of this nature. If she is telling the truth, I won't forgive you for ignoring the matter and letting whatever curse is out there run wild."

Lance pondered her proposition and Karkinos' reasoning. They would stay in the city for at least a couple more hours anyway and it sounded like a reasonable request, especially with the Cancer Cloth's words backing it up. It was definitely a chance to practice his underworld arts and refresh on his hunting skills. "I can't stay here for long. I promise I'll try to find out what's going on, but I have to leave by the end of the day."

The flimsy agreement was more than enough for Adriana to smile in delight. "Excellent. You can call me to help explain the problem to the Pope later on if he reprehends you too much. I'll leave the matter entirely in your capable hands for the next few hours. I'm sure you'll do great."

"I still don't know why couldn't you handle the matter, especially since you're in charge. What happened to that sword of yours you were so proud of?"

She scoffed and gestured her hand in dismissal. "Quite frankly, I'd rather not dirty my hands, or a prized family heirloom for that matter, taking care of work that was not to be mine in the first hand. Besides,… I've already sent people after the troublemaker, but the last foot soldier patrol came back without their spleens. It's better to solve the matter once and for all than let this cat and mouse game keep on going."

Cancer Lance nodded in understanding and asked for more details on the case, including whatever info Adriana could have already gathered. If it was truly a case of a Black Saint running loose it would be a good way to reattach himself with his assault mission roots, but if she believed he could handle it in the time span it took to get the boat ready to depart for the Isle of Gardens, then he wondered if it was truly that big of a local problem. As she gave out more details of the damage caused by the 'ghoul', the Cancer Saint recalled his communions with the Cancer Cloth and wondered what he would face in what was, to all effects, perhaps the first case of necromancy he would have to deal with as the new owner of Karkinos, at least outside China.

Hopefully he wouldn't have to follow a trail of dead bodies or, perhaps even worse, get to know the more darker aspects of his role as the fourth temple's guardian more intimately.

{======================|0|======================}

The depths of the city were home to a number of damaged and abandoned neighborhoods, a few remnants of the world wide conflict of thirty years earlier but many victims of the rapid and uncontrolled expansion the island's urban centers went through as part of their reparations. The northern quarters of Syracuse faced heavy and chaotic expansion as a result of a modern process of re-industrialization, so the outskirts of the city had a number of ill streets of rundown apartments, broken windows and frail, antiquated homes that most smart people would stay away from.

It was into one such street, and a particularly degraded one, that Lance made his way into after following the leads provided to him by Adriana, as well as a few other witnesses. The state of the area was of abandonment, with almost no one walking outside and only the far off barks of dogs and roaring of trains heard. The absence of people was accentuated by the nearby presence of a graveyard park at an elevated section, allowing its graffiti-filled mausoleums, dirty tombstones and broken iron gate to be seen from most spots on the street.

He had discarded most of his belongings at the boat so as to not attract attention; he had no need to fear an attack from the inhabitants he occasionally passed by despite being a 'tourist', since chances were most stabs and shots would break off his skin filled with cosmos. He had only tucked the Cancer chest plate underneath his shirt as well as the gauntlets beneath a pair of black gloves, since these were the most easily concealed parts of the spiky armor. He wanted to keep Karkinos close by in case he needed advice with the underworld arts. His hooded jacket and jeans gave him an urban look that made him look fairly normal in that environment, with only the sharp look of his red eyes drawing attention.

Said sharpness analyzed the buildings and alleys of the street, trying to find clues to the 'ghoul of Syracuse' amongst the tags, scraped doors, broken homes and drug vendors. The foot soldiers present in the city had told him they had narrowed the search down to that area, but further investigation had proved dangerous and fruitless. Lance was not about to give up so easily, especially with all the years of hunt he had to draw experience from. He was habituated to jungles not so much of cement and glass, but trees and mountains; even so the small scale of the task motivated him to try the unknown and see if he could fare better than Adriana's underlings.

"I can sense the restlessness of the spirits here… Someone has been misusing the underworld arts." Karkinos would occasionally say, its interest in the whole matter increasingly surprising Lance. "You must find the culprit, Lance, and teach him the true meaning of playing with death."

Lance would nod at Karkinos' words, concerned with the Cloth's strange dedication but attributing it as merely fulfilling its natural role. Upon feeling lost he would sync his sensations with the armor's so as to better grasp the state of spiritual disarray in the area, but this did him little good other than scratch a few crime scenes off.

Eventually, though, he came across the location of the murders Adriana mentioned and would be surprised at the conclusion he made. Kneeling down next to the police tape and white corpse demarcation on the ground the investigators had left behind, he made rather interesting findings together with Karkinos.

"It doesn't seem like the souls in the area are more or less restless in these crime scenes." he said as he looked over an alley that made one of the murder spots. "I don't think someone who should be able to rip out the souls of people would leave these knife wounds, either. It would be far too easy to overcome resistance with the underworld arts to take the time and energy to stab someone. Besides,… why cut someone when you have cosmos to smash people's faces in?"

"That woman said the murders have been connected with the thefts! It must be the human posing as a 'ghoul'." Cancer argued, inflexible in his incrimination. "You must find him and punish him! Even Athena grants only death to the truly dishonorable and I will not stand idly by while someone disgraces my powers."

Lance walked away from the scene and stuck to his deductions. "Not so fast! I need to ascertain exactly what's going on before I go around cutting off heads. The only way it would make sense for an underworld artists to do this would be for the simple reason of hurting people unnecessarily."

Karkinos' cynical laugh echoed in Lance's mind. "And you doubt humans are capable of such barbarism?"

"...No more than yourself."

The discussions between the owner and his Cloth ended mostly like this, with Karkinos finding proof of mankind's violence in the scenes of blood and Lance determined to interpret it all with the same logic judgment he used in every hunt. The human was guaranteed to stand like a rock by his principles, not willing to budge a single inch to the Cloth's words. It was steadily becoming more clear to the red-eyed Saint the manner he should treat Cancer with if he wanted to stay clear of its pessimistic influence.

It was rather interesting how it took someone, or in this case something, more accustomed to mankind's darkness than Lance himself to ensure that he stayed true to his better ideals; it was not that long ago he played Karkinos' role in his discussions with Shinta, especially in the midst of a mission the Andromeda Saint found morally troubling, and now he felt like the scripts had been reversed somehow with him stuck with a bloodthirsty partner not willing to look at the grander picture of things. When he found out about the powers associated with his constellation he could not feel more out of tune with his zodiac, but Lance now wondered if he was more compatible with his birth constellation's personality than he realized.

In the midst of all this musing he came across a large, abandoned mansion near the cemetery which looked like the perfect place to harbor the local hobos and junkies. Surprisingly, though, he sensed no such presence within its confines through his 7th sense and that made it all the more suspicious.

Why was it that such a perfect shelter for the weather was untouched by the local homeless?

As he stepped near the house, he stopped in fright as a shiver ran down his spine and Cancer spoke to him. "Careful; the spirits circulate this place. You are in a dangerous area..."

The Cancer Saint calmed down with a deep breath and looked over the two-storied mansion. It's symmetrical design was dotted by closed wooden windows, a large dark oak door with a chained padlock and the tiles that decorated the walls were either missing or falling off. Large holes filled the terrace and the whole place looked like something brought out of a cheap horror flick if it wasn't for its rather pretty architecture beneath the piles of broken assets, weather damage and dust.

It was then that he saw a boy sitting by the doors stone staircase. The child was covered in a dirty, ragged fabric that hooded most of his head, leaving only the tip of a few dark blue strands of hair peek out. To onlookers, the vulnerable, quiet child seemed to be looking at his hand, fantasizing about something in the midst of all the poverty.

To Lance and the Cancer Cloth, however, he was doing something entirely different and far less innocent.

"So many souls..." commented Lance as he watched the countless will-o-wisps dance around the child by the young life they hovered. "That is more than I have been able to gather by myself. Are they the spirits of your family? Or rather someone dear that you've lost?"

The child seemed to finally notice him, turning his slightly so as to not expose his face. "Oh, you can see them, too? That's a surprise. You're the first person I meet who can see these guys." he spoke, also in Greek. The child's eyes wavered imperceptibly to the stranger's waist, where he could make out the faint glow of gold beneath the church. "They might be, who knows. It's not like they tell me their secrets...all they do is scream."

Lance's eyes squinted. "Maybe its because they're your victims, rather than your loved ones."

The kid chuckled to himself and smiled menacingly. "You should watch what you say, Greek. Don't you know who I am?" he asked, making the souls around his hand vanish without a trace. "I am the incarnation of death! The souls of the dead come to me, hover around me in search for guidance. Do you think it is smart to accuse death of killing those he has not?"

Feeling the tension rise between them and the threat in the child's voice sharpen, Lance prepared himself for a scuffle and confronted the kid with his own idiocy. "You are not Death itself, you are just a kid who was given too much power after too much suffering; you're a far cry from comparing yourself to the Grim Reaper just because of some cheap tricks."

The child stood up, his hand going down his pocket. "Is that so? Well… maybe I should start my journey towards replacing him… with your DEATH!"

There was a sudden flurry of tortured spirits at Lance's face, who stepped back in fright and exposed himself to the child's attack. The kid took out something sharp, stepped in with a scream and instantly dug it in the stranger's waist before twisting it out and fleeing into the dark.

Lance gasped and wavered as he heard the loud laughter of the kid distancing itself. He immediately touched his body in search of blood or a cut, stunned at the light speed movement that youth executed. He widened his eyes, however, when he realized there was no wound.

He pulled up his shirt in search of remnants of an attempted stab on either his chest plate or body, but found nothing. There was no broken piece of an edge against his protection or even scraped skin beneath it. He could swear he heard a slash, but it seemed like the kid had failed to do anything.

"...Search your pocket." Karkinos advised.

Lance touched them in search of their content. "...Son of a BITCH! He took my wallet!"

{======================|0|======================}

Mephisto ran inside his hideout in the abandoned, rundown house just a few blocks away from the mansion he practiced his magic at. He was laughing his lungs out, driven to bliss by the weight of the Saint's wallet in his hand. He ran up the stairs and took five by a pillar from where he could watch the lower floors for intruders through a massive, thirty year old hole left behind by an English shell. Practically on cloud nine with his loot, he wasted no time making sure he wasn't being followed so he could immediately check his treasure.

What a fool! Then again everyone from Sanctuary was. A little piece of shiny plastic and everyone thought he was coming at them with an actual knife. Usually he wouldn't risk getting the attention of the big boys and would just scare off the soldiers with some magic, but every now and then a cocky one would come by and Mephisto would get a shot at a watch or a handful of cash. It was shocking how easily he could outrun them, too. He couldn't move very far, but his super speed was getting easier to make use of every week.

"Letting down his guard just because I'm a kid, what a loser! Here's to you, dummy!" He lost his smile as he opened the black wallet. He took out the Greek currency. "DAMN IT! This one's full of drachmas, too! It is not worth nearly as much...Aw...I knew it was too good to be true." Last time he tried to get an adult to convert it for him at a bank, the guy walked off with the cash. He looked over the rest of the contents, which included a lot of weird identifications, cards with the letters 'MMC' on them and a picture of the stoic Saint. "What's up his ass? Can't he smile for a pic? Pegasus Lance? A Bronze one, huh? I guess they're starting to get mad."

As he wondered about his next step, Mephisto checked his string traps and stored the wallet in his treasure bag along with the other appropriated goods and cash that he had swindled over the week. He should have enough to get by for a few weeks. Mumbling complaints between breaths about tourists and Saints, he instead took solace imagining the look on the guy's face when he realized his precious money holder was gone.

Taking a spot by the wide hole where he could lie down and keep an eye on it at the same time, Mephisto relaxed and made plans for the next set of losers that would cross his path. There was no way the Saints would let him running loose for long, especially now that he's messed with a Bronze, but he can easily leave town. If only he could use his light speed for more than a few feet! He supposed he could walk, but that would take too long and expose him to those supersonic armored jerks.

Maybe he could infiltrate one of the boats. Mephisto was pretty good at staying hidden for long periods of tim provided he didn't have to move around too much. If he could dodge Sanctuary's watchdogs for so long, there was no way a bunch of a sailors would find him if he hid by those big cargo crates they carried into the decks. That should be enough to at least get him into the mainland. He would have to leave his home behind, though, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

Before his eyes could water at the notion of it, the wire traps he laid out sprang, shaking the empty bean cans that were just loud enough for him but not others to ear. He went full alert, leaping from his spot into a more secluded one and grabbed his slingshot. How did they find him?

Cancer Lance walked inside the damaged building through the jarred door, his mood black as the night, following the trace of cosmos he had picked off the little runt. That small moment when cosmos was burned and light speed was achieved by the kid startled the Saint, who now realized he was dealing with something entirely unexpected.

He stopped before he could fall into some unknown trap. He saw the huge hole above him, from where he could sense the emanating energy of the hidden child. "I know you're in here! Come out, give me back my wallet and maybe I won't get madder than I already am!" he warned. "Little runt! I can't believe I fell for this! Still, there's no doubt about it; he can perform the Underworld Waves."

"You must find him immediately, Lance! Do not let this chance go by!" demanded Karkinos.

"I know, what do you think I'm tryin-"

"You need to take him to Sanctuary. His place is not in this urban cesspool, wasting his life in petty crime. His talents must beutilized by Athena."

He was not sure by this part of Karkinos' demands. The Cancer Cloth had all of a sudden gained a new interest in the kid who pick-pocketed Lance, perhaps for humiliating the Saint who refused to fully cooperate with Karkinos' rituals. "Are you kidding me?! I'm in the middle of a goddamn assignment handed by the Pope to go fetch Aphrodite and you want me to adopt some random kid who robbed me?! What happened to the whole 'punishing for playing with death' stuff from earlier?"

The golden crab was, once again, inflexible. "You know as well as I do this is no random child. Besides, were you not saying earlier you wanted to determine what was really going on?"

Red eyes rolled. "Oh yeah! That's a great idea! Hey, your Holiness, I know you told me to go fetch your new Pisces Saint but hey, how about a two-for-one?! Don't worry, I promise I'll wash him, feed him and keep him on a leash!" he screamed out loud, suddenly not realizing what he was doing before switching perspectives to Shion. "Good idea, Lance! I said before you were the only one I could count on for this task and there you go; instead of a new guardian for my temples, I get a smelly, rotten kid in your house who, as a bonus, might shiv Saga in his sleep! I'm so glad the votes in your promotion to Gold were so well placed! GOOD FUCKING JOB!"

"What… what is wrong with you?!"

Mephisto gasped and felt sweat run down his face. A Gold Saint?! They sent a Gold Saint after him?! Horror crept up his heart as he recalled the glint of gold he detected beneath the Saint's shirt and wondered who he could possibly have pissed off so much for the human equivalent of a nuke to be sent after him.

"What's wrong with me is that I got a wishy-washy crab for a Cloth who keeps rearranging its priorities at its convenience!"

The blue-haired boy didn't even hear the insane rant the Gold Saint was giving himself as he crawled deep into his hidey-hole and tried not to make a sound asides from the rapid beats of his heart. His face went pale and his head grew hot. Oh, no, what was he gonna do?! The city block was gonna get wiped out because he stole a wallet?!

"The situation has gained a new importance! I will not let you jeopardize-"

"You can't even make up your mind, why should you tell me how to do my job! Also, I'm pissed!" He pointed his finger at one of the wooden beams supporting the heavily damaged floor the kid was on and blasted it away with a loud ray of light, causing the entire upper structure to shake around, creak and tilt a few feet till a young scream was heard. "Come out or I'll bring the entire building to the ground! Trust me, you have no idea the kind of people you are dealing with today, kid!"

Mephisto came out of his hideout, but did not surrender, instead suddenly rushed across the upper room in search of the trap he prepared.

Lance's eyes and shining fingertip followed him, trying to aim the warning shot at the floor the boy ran on. "STOP IT! Don't make me shoot you-"

"Eat dirt, old man!" Mephisto leaped for it and pulled down the lever hid amongst the rubble as he crashed on the ground.

Something snapped below the lower floor boards, like a support pillar suddenly breaking.

There was a sudden shattering sound beneath Lance, who barely had time to step out of the way before the entire floor he stood on cracked, creaked and tore open, rapidly revealing an underground section of the building he was about to fall into. Running out of the way, he did not notice the kid grabbing a tied rope above him, cutting it off the makeshift anchor and swinging across the house. "Take this!"

Lance turned only to have his face bashed head front by a pair of young feet, kicking him back so hard he lost his senses for a bit and tripped off the collapsing floor into the falling, wooden rubble while Mephisto safely swung to the other side.

The fall looked painful, especially after all the various trash, wooden beams, broken mirrors and furniture followed. All of it collapsed on top of the Gold Saint whose scream was muffled by the large, crashing sound of half the hall breaking down and smash him, erupting clouds of dust and pieces of glass all over the large, indoor space.

Mephisto wasted no time fetching the detonator and stood by the hole to see the result of the biggest trap he had. He could barely see anything through the brown dust in the air, but soon enough it settled to reveal the miscellaneous rubble pile. Said chaos of broken wood and bricks eventually broke apart to reveal a coughing, wheezing Gold Saint patting the dirt off him and struggle to recover his senses.

Grumbling to himself profanities and curses, the red-eyed Saint did his best not to explode his fiery cosmos just to clear off the damn house for fear of killing the child and focused his efforts on making sure he didn't lose sight of him. To his surprise, he was able to find the kid as soon as he looked up. The thief didn't seem so scared of him anymore and held something in his hand.

Harnessing his patience and good sense, the Cancer Saint kept calm and addressed the kid. "Y-you know… you're just making things worse for you! What are you gonna do next? Throw beehives at me?!"

Betting it all on his final trump card, Mephisto pressed the button of his detonator without letting go. Dozens of red lights on clocks and timers popped up one by one all around the Gold Saint, who seemed alarmed for the first time upon being surrounded by explosives.

Mephisto laugh nervously, trying his best to look on top of things. "B-b-back off, creep! Make a move and I'll let go of this trigger and blow you to smithereens! Think your armor will protect you from that?!"

The Gold Saint blinked, surprised at the extent of the boy's resistance. He had no idea how the kid got his hands on explosives and the darkness of the basement floor he was kicked into barely allowed him to see the red lights, much less examine the actual bombs to see if they were real. Still, the sheer length of the situation was taken into forced him to think things over and adopt a new strategy.

"What are you waiting for? Get up there and catch him before he flees!"

"Shut up, Karkinos! I'm handling this!" Lance shouted, sick of the Cloth's demands, before slowly raised his hands in the air like he was actually in danger. "I didn't bring enough of the Cloth to protect me from blasts anyway, but what are you gonna do, kid? I don't know what kind of explosives you got down here, but there's only about a few inches of brick and wood between your feet and them. I'd say I have a better chance to survive it than you do."

Mephisto smirked. "Not if I get away from here first, jackass! Besides, it's better than whatever Sanctuary is probably gonna do to me!" He raised the detonator menacingly. "You thought you could just walk in here and take whatever you want? You looked down on me for being a kid once again! N-now you're gonna pay!"

The Cancer squinted his red eyes at the child, noticing the trembling in both his voice and movements. For someone confident his trap would kill the Gold Saint, the child was awfully nervous. "You accused mankind of barbarism earlier, Karkinos."

"And I stand by what I said." enforced the crab. "Even the children of your race are capable of murder when pushed into squalor. This child is proof of it. Just look at the fellow humans he was capable of killing for a few pieces of bread."

As he observed the kid threatening him, Lance was not so sure. As always, Karkinos' words were filled with contradiction. Usually the crab would gloat of his powers' fringe nature while standing by their sacredness, but now he ridiculed human goodwill, even in children, while having earlier practically forced Lance to go after the child for some obscure reason the teenager had no reason to believe it was good. He put the headaches the crab had gave him aside and focused on his plan.

He started by breaking the ice. "What's your name, kid?" he asked, surprising the child with the shift of tone. "You're putting yourself through a lot of trouble just to fight me off; who are you and where do you come from?"

The child quivered in hesitation, not sure what the Gold Saint was trying to do next, but answered anyway. "Well, I suppose it's fair you know the name of the one who'll kill you. It's Mephisto! Remember it when you meet your mak-"

"Mephisto? As in Mephistopheles?"

"That's too long!" Mephisto snapped. "It's just 'Mephisto'! Also… I'm from around here!" His head then nodded in direction of the far off mansion they met earlier. "I used to live at that house!"

"I see… my name is Lance, the Saint of Cancer, though you probably know that already since you have my wallet. Tell me, Mephisto, for how long have you been able to see spirits?"

The robber blinked, not sure where the Saint was getting at. However, now that he thought of it, that Saint was the first person to see the spirits, too. "I… I don't know!" he snapped once again. "It's just something I can do!"

"Something you can do… like moving at light speed?" Silence fell between the two of them as Mephisto felt his hand tremble even more, though maybe that was just for holding the detonator button for so long. He couldn't even do anything when Lance lowered his hands into his pockets to relax the tension between them further. "I'm sure you know that's not normal, right?"

"I'M NOT A FREAK!" Mephisto screamed, causing a weak surge of light to flow through the broken bulbs around the room. "Don't you dare call me that! I'll kill you!"

Lance shrugged his shoulders. "No need to take things that far. Remember, trigger that detonator and it will all be over for you. Sanctuary won't forgive you for killing me." he confronted, before deciding to go back to his earlier approach. "What happened to your parents? Why aren't they around here?"

Not terribly surprising, but no less sadder, the young boy shook his head. "My parents are dead." He could have sworn there was a knowing diversion of eyes from the Saint, but Mephisto didn't lower his guard. "They went broke and killed themselves a long time ago. Why do you think I live on the streets?!"

The older youth could imagine the rest of the story. It was typical of those destined to get into Sanctuary to not only have a void of parents but a tragic story to power it. Lance was no exception, having even been shoved with it in the face by Kastiel when he confronted the Kerberos Saint for the final time. It was like Athena made a point of not having people in her army who could possibly put anyone ahead of her in their priorities. The best way to do this was surely to have an army of orphans.

"Why can't you Saints just leave me alone?!" Mephisto went on. "I barely get more than I need to get by. They send a Gold Saint just because I picked a few goddamn wallets? You people are insane! I never even hurt anyone!"

"Don't play with me, Mephisto!" Lance shouted, losing his temper. "You killed those people in the streets! Do you think that kind of crime just gets looked over because you're poor?! They told me you took some guard's spleen out-"

"B-BULLSHIT!" screamed the child, becoming full red and tearing his eyes out at the accusations. "I d-didn't do those things! I n-never even m-met those guards! Just because there's some serial killer out there doesn't mean it's me!"

There was a pause from Lance's part, who allowed Mephisto to snivel and whimper until he could calm himself out. As soon as it looked like the kid wouldn't start crying, he decided to confront him. "Mephisto… have you ever killed anyone?"

"Y-YEAH! I HAVE!" assured the child, trying to maintain his face and showing off his detonator "And I'll kill you, too, if you don't turn back and tell your king or your Pope or whatever to leave me alone!"

"So you do have something to answer for!" concluded Lance. "You did hurt someone and you must be taken to Sanctuary for it where you'll be trialed for your crimes!"

"What?! NO! I...Stop it! You're confusing me!" Mephisto demanded, shaking his head furiously and refusing to admit weakness. It was then that Lance saw the finger on the detonator loosening with all the emotional stress.

Realizing the bombs were probably just a bunch of LED's in the dark, Lance scoffed and folded his arms in disdain. "Some incarnation of death you are… Pathetic. The truth is, Mephisto, I don't believe you killed those people. I don't think you've ever actually killed anyone, at least except to defend yourself. I've met a lot of kids like you who act tough after some trauma. I know how you think." He squinted at the countless 'bombs' around him. "And I think you have no intention of killing me or yourself."

"O-Oh, yeah?!" Mephisto forced himself to smile sadistically and raised his detonator high in the sky. "W-Well, who's laughing now, huh?! I got the cheese and the knife and I'll blow you up as soon as I get out of here! Let's see if you still think I'm pathetic after you get caught in more TNT explosions than the sky on the fourth-" There was a suddenly swooping blitz from the Saint, who disappeared from sight. Mephisto gasped in shock at having lost sight of his predator and didn't have time to react before Lance landed right in front of him, arms folded, out of the trap and a look of death on his face. "NO, BACK OFF! I MEAN IT! I CAN STILL EXPLO-"

A sudden sweep in the air struck Mephisto's hand and the detonator found itself in Lance's possession, who proceeded to personally click the button to trigger the blast. Upon getting nothing back but the sound of squeezed rubber, the saint smashed the device with a hand crush and let the pieces of black plastic litter the floor.

"Kind of a disappointing explosion, if you ask me."

The child screamed in fear and distanced himself from the threat. "No, stay back! I'll..." He raised his finger and called forth the spirits. "I'll defeat you with my magic! GET HIM, GHOSTS!" The Saint raised his guard at the sudden flurry of blue, spectral energy that flushed from below between the floorboard cracks. The many howling spirits danced around between him and the child, forming a protective barrier before condensing into an attack. "TAKE THIS!" The countless souls merged into a large ball of raging blue fire which illuminated the area and threw itself at Lance with but a wave of the child's hand.

He irked at the screeching screams let out by the approaching flames but stood his ground.

"Presaepe Underworld Wave!" Purple energy crackled around his hand moved up to the tip of his finger before bursting into shock waves of spectral power which battered the blast, stopping it in its tracks before completely dismantling it into the many souls it was composed of. He allowed the child to watch his 'magic' be rendered to nothing and the spirits that had clung to him move up a tunnel the waves now formed into the air, where they soon disappeared as their screams echoed one final time through the empty halls. "...Idiot… These are not powers you should be playing with."

Mephisto's face went pale and he stepped back in fear, even dropping on his butt. He felt paralyzed by the presence of the deadly Saint, who seemed ready to pounce on him now that his bluff was called and his leverage destroyed. He tried to crawl away but his back soon collided with the stone, cracked wall of the building, leaving him no where to escape.

"N-no, I… I didn't mean to..." he whimpered as the Gold Saint closed in on him.

Lance stopped before the terrified child, who looked up at him as if watching the Grim Reaper sharpening his scythe. He had no qualms about scaring the living shit out of the kid by letting him imagine what was in store for him and took his time standing before the one who had just earlier on dropped the entire ground floor on him, mocked him, robbed him and even threatened to kill him. Squashing all prospects of mercy on his head, he allowed Mephisto to cook under the deadly glare of his red eyes while he decided what to truly do with the child.

Seeing the hand of the Saint suddenly reach for him, Mephisto cried his eyes out, closed them in terror and covered his head. "NO, please d-don't-" He suddenly felt Lance's hand pick him up, raise him to his feet, go through his pocket and pat off the dust on him. "W-what?"

"You're filthy! Wipe yourself! You've been laying around in these dirty floorboards for months. You look like you've been through a wood chipper." Lance then stored his retrieved wallet back in his pocket. "Want to learn some real magic?"

"W-what are you talking about?!"

"You heard me. You want to train at Sanctuary with me or not?"

"….WHAT?!"Mephisto's dark blue eyes, still teary, widened themselves in shock.

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With the day nearing its end, a blanket wrapped around him, a pack of cookies in hand to keep him fed, his butt on a comfortable seat by the captain's spot and still with a shocked look on his face, Mephisto's widened eyes watched the Gold Saint by the dock speak to the Sanctuary representative that had been trying to hunt him down the latest few months. His head still felt completely baffled, having been dragged from the darkness of his street into the prettier parts of Syracuse and to the boat where he now awaited departure to some weird island or something.

The captain saw him still stunned in confusion nor touched the food on him like he hadn't even noticed. "Come on, kid, eat them. They're not poisoned or anything. Saint Lance was kind enough to bring you out of the streets and into this assignment, so you should be grateful and lose that discretion of yours." Mephisto's stomach grumbled loudly right on point to prove the captain right. "If you don't eat those I will!"

Mephisto took the hint and immediately shoved his face on the chocolate-chipped cookies, which upon crumbling in his tongue felt like heaven after months of old fruit, semi-rotten food, trash contents and anything he could find or buy with his ill-gotten money. It didn't take him long to empty half the package, starved as he was, but never left sight of the two young people at the boat's entrance discussing what he was doing there. He tried to listen in as much as he could.

The Saint of Cancer allowed Adriana to look over the report on his findings, where Lance made a case in favor of Mephisto's innocence based around the circumstances of the deaths.

"I don't think you're pickpocket-er is the one doing these messes, Adriana. Mephisto's knife is just a dull cheap piece of plastic that couldn't cut a carrot. I searched his loot and I didn't find any of the stuff that was missing from the victims, including money, keys and tools. He didn't even try to kill me when I caught him. He surely made a bunch of threats and got a couple of shots in, but he had more than a single chance to stab me with light speed and didn't do it."

She hummed. "So you're saying he's too much of a wimpy little sucker to have done those gruesome things?"

"More like he's too much of a kid, Adriana. I don't believe anyone of his age to be this bad of a psycho. After speaking to him I also think he's pretty mentally stable. He shows little remorse for stealing and lying and some of his traps could probably kill, but his attitude is more like someone just trying to survive in a tough world than someone out to hurt others," explained Lance. "Besides, have you looked at him? Sure he can reach light speed, but he can barely break rocks and he looks too much like a starved dog to have the energy to take on adults with sixty pounds on him, much less overpower numerous foot soldiers."

There was a disappointed sigh from the silver-ringed noblewoman. "...I guess the problem's still in my hands."

"Yeah, I'm afraid you got something else going on, here. Mephisto says it's some serial killer, probably a Black Saint. I'm inclined to agree. I've seen a lot of these cases before; they harass Sanctuary here and there before moving on to a new area to cause more damage. It's pretty much their main methodology since they can't oppose us directly."

She seemed resigned at this. "Well,… I'll take your word for it, considering your... experience with those people. Still, you're also saying you haven't done your job."

Lance didn't seem eager to agree. "I've given you all the info I could gather on the case and I'm even taking Mephisto off your investigation's hands. I might have not solved your problem, but I'm sure I've made it a lot easier." he explained. "Besides, Mephisto is still the 'ghoul' you've been looking for; the ghoul just also happens to not be the murderer. These deaths might not even be connected, but rather Mephisto's mischief as been painting a bad picture of them due to happening at the same time." Adriana didn't look convinced by Lance's words. "Look, if it bothers you that much, you can still say I owe you one! It's not like I'm just anxious to wash off my hands off someone going around killing people, but I do have to get to my assignment right now! I promise I'll keep an eye on this situation from afar and help you when you need it."

There was a disgruntled look from Adriana, who obviously was not getting what she wanted. "Alright, fine, I suppose it's good enough I got a Gold Saint to promise he'll help. Still… I didn't take you for such a charitable soul. What exactly made up your mind to adopt that kid?"

Lance scratched his head. "If you want me to be honest, it was all Karkinos' idea to begin with."

Educated in the finer points of Sanctuary and possessing a bit of hindsight on the Gold Saints' responsibilities and lives, Adriana didn't need much further info to deduce what was really at hand. "I see. I imagine you have to do a number of tasks to keep your Cloth happy with its owner and since this involves a kid that supposedly had power over spirits..." She then widened her eyes at the logical conclusion. "Don't tell me you have angered it to the point of it wanting to replace you, already?"

He looked over his shoulder to see Mephisto pop down his head. "That and well, I felt bad." he admitted. "A long time ago I was betrayed by my Master, who left me to die on Mount Olympus. I will never forget what I was put through because of that and the rage I felt for that betrayal. I might be making the biggest mistake of my life by taking him under my care, but I couldn't look myself in the mirror if I left Mephisto behind after believing with so much passion for so many years that what that bastard did to me was the worst thing a human could possibly do to another one."

The woman folded her arms. "Ah, that explains it."

"I don't expect to be a good example for him, Adriana, but taking him out of this misery and into Sanctuary's protection so he can start anew is the least I could do. Otherwise, I'd be just as much of an asshole as Kastiel." he confessed, his voice becoming graver at the mention of the master's name.

The ship's bell suddenly rang, calling everyone aboard. "Saint Lance, we're about to depart. Have you finished your business?" asked the captain.

"Yeah, I'll be done in a minute." Lance turned back to Adriana. "Looks like my time here is up. I'm sorry I wasn't able to catch your killer. Like I said before, I'll be owing you that favor."

"And I will remember it, Saint Lance." she addressed, knowing it irritated the teenager. "Hopefully you know what you're doing with this boy. I wonder what the Pope will say when you bring him up to his Halls?"

Lance recalled the golden crab's urgency in recruiting Mephisto and his suspicions regarding it. "Somehow, I get the feeling he'll fit in easier than the both of us think."

Adriana spent a few seconds of musing over this before bowing politely at the Gold Saints. "I'll be seeing you, then, Lord Lance. It was a pleasure to work with you. I honestly wouldn't mind if the Cancer and Ghisi Houses joined forces more often."

"I'm sure you wouldn't."

She stepped off the water breaks when the ship was untied and started moving, waving her hand high at him in goodbye. Lance reluctantly answered back, still having many reservations about the bizarre case for an aristocrat but at least admitting to himself she was a far more approachable and reasonable person to deal with than most members of the court.

{======================|0|======================}

The boat was already at the nightly high sea when Mephisto finally got over his phase of surrealism and confusion over being taken under the protection of Sanctuary rather than be punished by it. The rascal child moved quietly and swiftly around the boat, avoiding encounters and sticking by the shadows of the vessel's bow, where there was no lack of ropes, hooks, net tows and small crates to hide next to. He waited patiently as the few sailors in the ship passed by before he made his next move.

Rushing past the cargoes and hiding places, the sly kid practically dashed through shadows and covers until he reached the side of the boat that carried the smaller, emergency jet boats. All he had to do was hide inside, wait till everyone was asleep, cut off the tiers and he'd be free to flee to the mainland.

It was so easy he couldn't believe it! It was also certainly better than to trust the Gold Saint to actually adopt him or whatever, rather than putting him through the certain punishment the Saints had in store for him for causing so much trouble. Not only that, but Mephisto had no intention of becoming a Saint and living a life of war and sacrifice. His powers were his alone and it was up to him to decide how he'd use them to make his life better. I mean, how hard could it be for him to use his powers to strike it rich or something? He was yet to master them, that was true, and Sanctuary would be forever on his tail, but once he figured out how to use light speed indefinitely, nothing could stop him from living a life of luxury with his superpowers.

It was as he imagined his future that he found himself hesitating to enter the boat. He tried to think about where he was going to hide. Lance said they were going for an island not far off the Spanish coast, so maybe he could start there? It should be easy to lose the Saint in Europe once he reached firm ground. On the other hand… it was not like he could abuse light speed just yet. The chances of Lance or some other Saint catching him before he even got out of the first city were not that low.

Mephisto stopped pulling for the boat and stood there, wondering his steps and finding more obstacles to his plan than he imagined. "Lance took all my loot… light speed always leaves me starving so I'll have to find food right away, but..." Other problems like money, hygiene and the risk of getting lost in some European city with no super energy for getting more food settled in. "God, what am I doing? I can't survive out there!" he realized.

Lance rested his arms by the ship's railing and looked down on Mephisto below, who seemed to be realizing he had nowhere to leave for. "What are you waiting for? Go."

Mephisto wasn't even startled by Lance's sudden presence, instead looked up at him with somber eyes. "I...Where do I go?"

There was a shrugging of shoulders. "I don't know, you tell me." he advised, honestly not knowing what he would do in the kid's case. Truth be told, he felt bad for Mephisto because he saw in the troubled boy a lot of his younger self. Sure, Lance was never into pickpocketing and claiming he was 'death incarnated', but the sheer situation of inadequacy and desperate need for guidance were far from strange to him.

Mephisto, to his own surprise, stepped away from the boat. "I don't want to go to Sanctuary! I don't want to be another loser worshiping Athena! I want to be free and do what I want!" he screamed. "I didn't ask you for this! Why are you taking me there?! Just because you feel bad about me?! Because you were abandoned by your Master?!" Lance didn't give Mephisto the satisfaction of an answer to this. "Well, boo-ooh! I'm not a big baby like you! I'm a man! I don't need to be a Saint!"

"A man? Please! You're an angry kid who shit his pants when you realized you couldn't get away from me." reminded Lance, who saw the dark-blue haired runt cower with this.

"SHUT UP! D-damn it!" cursed Mephisto, punching the side of the boat edge. "I was fine! I was perfectly fine until those people started dying! It's not my fault!"

"You were living in squalor, surrounded by so much death that you thought yourself to be its messenger. No, Mephisto, it's not your fault those people started dying, but you've screwed up enough for people to assume it was you."

"Oh yeah?! What about YOU?! How much did you screw up?!" confronted Mephisto, pointing his finger at the Saint. "The others told me you're unpopular in Sanctuary, that people think you've done a bunch of bad things! How much did you screw up for those boy scouts to hate you so much?!" For the first time since they met, Lance seemed truly taken aback. The Saint went silent for a bit, reflecting on his past and what Mephisto just threw at him. "How can you talk all that shit when you got a record like that? What right do you have to force me into Sanctuary when you're probably worse than I am?!"

The Saint didn't answer immediately, taking so much time to think up of something to say that Mephisto thought for a second to have truly shut up the Gold Saint. He smirked in victory, not having imagined that he could gain the moral upper hand on a Saint, but when the sailors started telling him all those stories of him coming back with dead bodies from missions and beating up his Master, Mephisto just couldn't let the hypocrisy stand.

Unfortunately for him, Lance really had something to throw back. "You talk as if I've treated you like every other foot soldier Adriana sent after you." he argued. "No, Mephisto, I probably don't have the purity of reputation to scold you for your immaturity, but I don't think you understand your own position." Lance then took a huge risk and made his offer. "Name a place, any place, and I'll take you there right now."

Mephistio blinked. "W...Wait, what?"

"Tell me where you want me to drop you off, and I'll light speed you there. It will certainly save me the trouble of housing you in my Temple." he then looked at his watch. "No tricks to it, but if you do have a place in mind, say it right now. The boat is about to enter the special current it needs to get to the Isle of Gardens and, if it does, I can't take you out of there until I'm done with Aphrodite."

Lance then folded his arms and waited for his answer, hoping he didn't make a mistake. Truth be told, he didn't want to abandon the kid in some random paradise imagined by him, but at least it would force Mephisto to confront his own insecurities about his future and maybe make a better choice.

In the end, what worried him the most was what Mephisto would do with his enormous talent. Unable to influence his character by force due to the personal shame of being flawed himself, Lance had to absolutely adopt a hands-off approach and this frustrated him. He was pretty sure that, if nothing was done, Mephisto, should he survive the danger his own powers will expose him to, would grow up resentful and vengeful, perhaps even into a Black Saint. Lance would have none of it.

For what happened to Guilty and for what happened to himself, Lance could not possibly wish to let Mephisto go. Even though it was an enormous hassle to him, he hoped the kid would agree to come with him.

"I… I don't know! I don't know where to go! All I want to do is to learn more about my magic and be left alone, but… I'm tired of fighting for food scraps..." his face sank into his palms. "I don't want to be a Saint! I don't want to be another armored loser claiming for Athena's justice! I also don't want to have to take a Greek name, either!"

"You don't have to, Mephisto." assured Lance, who was pretty sure the only armor the child would take over was his own. "I think I can safely say that for as long as I'm a Gold Saint you'll never have to swear your vows, or at least they won't force you to decide until much latter."

Mephisto furiously rubbed his eyes, not wanting to show Lance he was crying. "You promise, right?! I have your word?"

Lance smiled and shook the child's hand. "I do." Mephisto seemed to calm down with this, letting go of the boat ties completely and recovering his confident smirk to appear strong. "Besides, the name thing is voluntary, you know, and it doesn't have to be Greek. I picked my name because it sounded cool in English… I was a pretty dumb ten year old."

Once the wash of relief was over, the possibilities of nomenclature brought a flare of excitement to Mephisto's eyes. "What? Really? I can get anything I want? I thought they just gave them out." He rubbed his chin, intrigued. He had to pick something cool, but also scary. "How do you say 'Deathface' in English?"

"...Probably the same way you say 'lame'."

"Alright then, what about 'Deathtoll'?"

"I'm pretty sure that one's taken."

Mephisto looked around for ideas. He saw a respirator mask by the emergency cabin and was reminded of the old mask placed on corpse faces for molding in the old traditions of his homeland. "What about 'Deathmask'? This sounds awesome! I want 'Deathmask'!"

As the Saint tried to dissuade the child from taking on such an aggressive sounding nickname, the Cancer Gold Cloth, stored inside the box in Lance's back, carefully watched the two bond while letting Mephisto be enraptured by the positives of joining Sanctuary. Upon seeing the child, Karkinos had immediately recognized him as the reincarnation of his destined Gold Saint, Manigold, something he was sure Pope Arles III would confirm upon seeing the kid. It was imperative then that Karkinos convinced Lance to adopt him not so much for his enormous talent for the Underworld Waves, but for the role he was fated to play as his rightful owner.

Perhaps it would not be so soon that Karkinos would be forced to replace Lance, who was a strong Saint of his own right but was much to stubborn to be controlled. At least he would now make sure to keep the perfect candidate nearby. From then he would keep quiet so as to not rouse Lance's suspicion and let the events play out.

{======================|0|======================}

Chapter End

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Next Chapter: Ghouls n'Roses – Part 2 of 4

Description: Lance and Mephisto arrive on the Isle of Gardens and learn more about Aphrodite and the place he has trained in.

Author's Note: This chapter deals with the recruitment of Deathmask into the ranks, obviously, who is name Mephisto here because I needed a 'real name' to give him and Mephisto is the name given to him in the American translation, I believe, which is the closest we'll probably get to a canonical birth name. I wanted to dedicate more text to characterize Mephisto, but hopefully I'll get more opportunities to do that in the next two parts.

Originally, in version 2, Aphrodite and Mephisto were just handed to Lance by the Pope with Aphrodite gaining the Cloth very rapidly and Deathmask only getting his chance at it in the 3rd Arc since Lance was blocking his path to it. Why did Lance suddenly cease to be a problem? You'll find out in due time (most likely in the new 3rd Arc).