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Beyond The Veil
Volume I - Chapter III
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The air carried with it a putrid scent, the stench of the affliction thickening as he seized the infected by the collar — fingers tightening around the fabric of the tattered clothes. Like a labyrinthine purgatory, the filth-ridden passages curled around them, their shadows dancing in grotesque patterns all around the ground... and yet, despite the lack of any discernible, meaningful source of illumination, he could still see it... the instinctual fear flickering within those orbs of green...could hear the short, delightful whimper that came from a parched throat.
A guttural growl emanated from the depths of his chest as he pressed the man against the cold, slimy surface of the wall, his gloved hand boring down upon the infected's withering form with an oppressive force. The taste of stagnation lingered in the air, a testament to the decay that permeated every corner of this god-forsaken place. The squelching of his boots on the wet, murky ground traveled throughout the sewer's gloom, while the unmistakable scent of mires infused the air — a repulsive cocktail that coated his senses in a veil of nausea. It was the symphony of suffering, the discordant melody of desperation that harmonized with the metallic tang of blood lingering on the dagger that he slowly unsheathed...
"You really shouldn't have run, you know?"
"P-please! You, you don't have to do this!" The dilated pupils reflected the glint of a blade stained with crimson, their green depths a kaleidoscope of terror and despair; a soft, choking sob reverberated through the confined space, resonating with the distant echoes of water dripping from unseen crevices.
"Now that is interesting..." He could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his lips — his expression hidden beneath the shadow of his mask... unseen but undoubtedly present. "By all means... do tell. Why exactly shouldn't I do something like this?"
"I-I have a family!"
"Oooooohhh~ So, you have a family, eh? Really... the same old drivel... same story and same bullshit." He titled his head — eyes narrowing as he leaned in — the words that came out from his mouth heavy with sarcasm as he twirled the weapon in his hand. "Come on... can't you rats say something new? I don't know, 'I got a kid on the way' or something? At least, that's a hell lot more interesting than saying 'I got a family' or some other shit..."
"W-what? What are you- I, I'm not lying! I really have a fa- gurhgkhk!" His attempt at speech was abruptly cut short as the dagger found its mark; the sharp blade traced an unforgiving path across the man's throat, silencing his pleas and leaving rivulets of crimson in its wake.
"Oops~! My hand slipped~ Sorry, not sorry~" His tone dripped with mock remorse as he inspected his blood-stained weapon, the infected crumpling onto the cold, filthy ground. "You see, the thing is, I know you're not lying. It's just... how do I say this?" The air was filled with ragged gasps as he proceeded to crouch over the man's fallen form, fingers resting against his chin as if contemplating his next course of action. "Hmm... what's the word, again? Ah, right," he added with a sinister chuckle, one of his hands patting the victim's cheek as the man choked and gurgled upon his own blood. "I. Don't. Care."
"-khgg, kghhagh-" The infected's futile attempts at breath echoed in the grimy confines of the sewer, digits reaching up and leaving a trail of red across the surface of the tinted glass.
"Yep~ Never gets old..." He wiped the blood off with a hint of callous indifference, his body straightening as he cast a glance over his shoulder — the faint sound of familiar, approaching footsteps his only warning of another presence nearby. "Done with yours?"
"As if I ever failed," a sinister pause followed as his companion came to a halt, eyes looking down at the man lying on the floor. "You playing around with the rats again?"
"Still got the job done, didn't I?" With a single, practiced motion, he sheathed his blade — the dagger finding its place as his fellow operative began to raise his crossbow; he intercepted the weapon, fingers curling around the shaft, a smirk forming on his face as he forced the figure to lower his arms. "Now, now... there's no need for that; just leave the poor man alone." He turned his gaze towards the dying man, his voice cruel and devoid of empathy. "The guy will bleed out... sooner or later, that is~"
"Un-fucking-believable..."
"I mean, there's literally no reason to, right?" Murky liquid sloshed against the sides of the sewer as he began to head towards his original destination, fingers tracing over the fabric of his cowl before he proceeded to reach for the crossbow slung over his back — the leather of his gloves creaking with the swift promise of violence. "It's not like he'll be able to walk out of this place alive..."
"Heh... whatever. Did you deliver all your packages?"
"Already got two out of three~! And the last one is just around the corner." He retrieved a red cylindrical object from the back of his waist, its metallic sheen reflecting the faint glimmer of the water below. "Say, everyone gets to use the new drone system, right?" The item glinted under the nearest flickering lights, their illumination revealing its nefarious purpose as he tossed the object up and down in his hand. "If so, then why are we still stuck with the good ol' charge?"
"That's easy: all you need to do is to look in the fucking mirror..." His companion responded as they both slipped past a makeshift barricade, their boots squelching against the muck underfoot.
"Wha-!? Come on, man, you know that was uncalled for~"
"I called as I see it," the Kuranta replied without missing a beat. "And if you really want to play with the new gadget, maybe — just maybe — you could try to act a little bit more... sane, around the others. Pretty sure the guys at the HQ would've allowed us to use one of their new toys by then..."
"Nah... not gonna happen. Besides, I think the Platinum and one of the Lazurites might have it in for me..." He tossed the charge on top of a cluster of garbage, the dull thud echoing in the damp sewer as he reached towards a valve with his now free hand; the surface felt cool against his gloved fingers, a stark contrast to the warm, putrid air swirling around them. "Nghh!! Or it could be, nghh!! That they find me... a bit too charming... nghh!! For their taste! Nghh!!"
"You know you could just drop your weapon and use both of your hands, right?"
"It's a matter of pride~! Nghh!!" Grunts punctuated his efforts as he strained against the valve, the resistance forcing beads of sweat to form beneath his cowl. "Yep~ I give up. Horse's balls, this thing is stubborn as a mule... nghh!!" He allowed his weapon to rest against the cold, hard ground, digits curling around the valve; seconds passed before the rough texture of the metal yielded to his persistence, and with one final twist, it released a small, muted groan, allowing the trapped substance to escape with a hiss. "Phew~! Now, that took care of the gas~" A hollow sound reverberated throughout the tunnels as he knocked on the pipe, the echoing vibrations confirming its content expulsion; he proceeded to pick up both his crossbow and the charge, its weight strangely reassuring in his hands. "Still, I swear, sometimes, it felt as if they both wanted me dead."
"Wow... what a surprise..." The sardonic remark was met with a joyful chuckle, the acrid scent of the gas fading away — if only slightly — as they both moved through the dark, labyrinthine passages. "I wonder why..."
"Well, not sure, really... though I think it's because I accidentally managed to-"
*Bzzzt*
"G6, Red Crown; come in, G6..." His communication device crackled to life, the voice on the other end a blend of static and distant echoes; he pressed a button with a push of his index finger, but not before he threw the explosive into the waiting hand of his companion.
"Red Crown, G6; we read you loud and clear, over."
"Copy that; how goes the cleanup, over?"
"We got rid of the rotten apple. The rats won't know what hit 'em."
"Confirmed." The voice crackled once more — the silence in the brief pause that followed punctuated by a faint scratching noise. "Anything else to report?"
"Yeah, well, nothing much to say, really... the floor's clean and the trash ready to be tossed to the burner." Stench of decay mingled with the scent of burnt chemicals as he shot a glance at his fellow operative — the Kuranta fixing the charge inside of a small, wooden crate. "Also left a gift in front of their door. Shouldn't take longer than fifteen 'till they realized what's in the package."
"... and the other customer?"
"We're planning on heading over right now, but uh... the car broke down. Tech said repairs will be done in no sooner than five."
"... understood; no dallying around, G6. Make sure the streets stay clean. We don't need any vermin crawling around the city. Red Crown, out..."
*Bzzzt*
"Aaaaaannnd... she's gone." The mechanical echo of his communication device faded into nothing, leaving behind only the distant drip of water and the squelching of boots in its wake. "Really, all business and no fun, that one..."
"As she should be..." His companion grumbled, gaze fixed onto the now sealed crate before he turned and began walking away. "Not everyone is as cold-blooded, you know? Some of us are content with just fulfilling our contract."
"And that is why you'll always be second to me... like, where's that tiny spark of sadistic pleasure? Your fervor? Your passion~?" He gestured to the surroundings with a nonchalant sweep of his hand, the damp walls reflecting the eerie glow of flickering lights. "Come on, man; what's life without a little bit of fun~?" The sound of their footfalls against the moist ground provided for macabre beat, its rhythm mirroring the undertone of their clandestine activities. "I swear, you and those people from HQ are just-"
"Boring? Please, I'll have my fun when the work's over, thank you... and unlike you, me and the rest of the guys actually got places to be."
"... riiiiiight... let me guess: the Strip?"
"... you know, I have always wondered how you managed to get into the Union." A soft squish echoed as his companion kicked aside a single piece of discarded refuse, the sludge beneath their feet offering little to no resistance as they made their way deeper into the tunnel. "Honestly, I'm not sure if I want to know the answer anymore..."
The warmth of the tea seeped through the finely crafted cup, the rich aroma of steeped leaves enveloping her senses as she raised the earthenware to her lips — its fragrance a floral dance that mingled with the ambient scent of freshly baked pastries. She glanced at her surroundings, shadows crawling their way up the walls as her eyes wandered over the quaint artworks on the side of the room; they whispered tales of ancient voyages, these canvases are... each piece telling a story of distant lands and forgotten battles.
"Sorry sorry~! The line was kinda long~" Came the melodious voice of her sister, its sound a familiar symphony of joy against the backdrop of conversations — the pitter-patter of her steps, as well as the scrape of the chair against the floor another signal that heralds the girl's return. "So? What do you think? This place is just great, isn't it?"
"Please, it's quite alright, Maria; there is no need to apologize," she couldn't help but to turn her gaze, the soft lines on her face betraying a gentle affection that she held for the individual sitting across the table. "And yes, this place is as lovely as you described it to be... thank you for bringing me here."
And she truly meant it...
With most of the city succumbing themselves to the relentless march of time, the once-charming sceneries of her beloved country had long since started to dwindle, much like a fragile bloom in the face of encroaching concrete and steel. The tide of progress had brought forth towering skyscrapers and sleek, impersonal structures, their existence swallowing the remnants of a nobler, simpler time... among other things. An old establishment such as this one, with its rustic charm and vintage allure, had become something of a rarity; it stood as a resilient testament to a bygone era, a quaint, little relic in the midst of a bustling metropolis that — more often than not — seemed to forgot its own heritage and history.
As for how much longer this haven of tradition would last, however...
"Hehe~" A laugh, clear and resonant, made its way through the cozy air — a musical interlude that embraced the atmosphere with a playful note. "Mmm~ It's been a while since the two of us were able to hang out like this, isn't it, Big Sis~?"
"... you know why... while I don't particularly enjoy nor do I agree with having to participate in the Major, it is still something that I must do." She observed the subtle play of light filtering through the latticed windows, a smile — nostalgic, as well as forlorn — playing on her lips; the young woman shifted in her seat, her voice carrying with it the weight of both regret and responsibility as she directed her attention back towards her sister. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to spend much of my time with you, Maria..."
"No, no, it's fine, really~! It's not like I don't understand why you did it~! Though I do miss our outings... but it's okay! I've been cheering for you in the Major, you know? Your fights are amazing; just like the knights in those stories you used to tell me~!"
"Yet it doesn't excuse me from neglecting our time together... tell you what, when this is all over, why don't we go and visit the countryside? I'm sure Grandfather wouldn't mind if we also buy a few of those blueberry-filled pastries that you love so much."
"Really!?"
"Mhmm... when the time comes, little one," she chanced a glance at the antique grandfather clock standing beside a shelf full of weathered books, the ticking of its hands a reminder of the passing hours. "Still, as much as I enjoyed this little outing of ours, I think it would be better for us to start making our way to the hospital. We both have an appointment with Dr. Claussel, if you recall, and I — for one — believe that it wouldn't be proper to keep the good doctor waiting, don't you agree?"
"Fine~" Her sister replied with an adorable pout as she finished the last of her cake, a hint of mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes as she proudly declared. "But I'm not a little girl anymore; I'm twelve~!"
"Of course you are," Margaret teased, hand reaching over to pinch at the girl's cheek; the laugh that came out of her lips echoed through the air, the sound as delightful as a nocturne bell before she proceeded to tussle at her sister's hair. "Now, why don't you finish your tea? I'm going to settle the bill, okay?"
"Kay~!"
"-max of the Kazimierz 22nd Major approaches as the Radiant Knight and the Silver Knight prepare to collide in an epic showdown that promises to be etched into the an-" Declared a voice that came from a nearby digital billboard, the sound an incessant buzz that he tried to ignore; he cast a sideways glance, his focus shifting toward a picture of a blond-haired female for but a brief moment — the extra pair of ears upon her head, as well as her bushy tail, were some of the peculiar details that had caused the Revenant no small amount of headache. "-nowned for her precision and tactical brilliance, has carved a path of triumph throughout the tournament! With a flawless record, she stands as a beacon of dominance, her legacy as the granddaughter of our illus-"
It was... different, he realized — the streets winding like intricate veins while the lamps whispered secrets of a world yet undiscovered, their glow revealing a cityscape that is both alien and enticing.
"-ving on to the next news. Reports confirm a devastating explosion earlier today, suspected to have originated from a gas leakage within the sub-level pipe systems of the 13th industrial plate. Emergency services rushed to the site within minutes of the explosion, while officials are cautioning citizens to steer clear of the affected zones. The extent of the da-" The feed continued to play, the voice fading into the background as he proceeded to glide through the night — each rooftop beneath his feet offering a different perspective — every leap a heartbeat in his symphony of uncertainty; the air itself echoed with whispers, a rhythm that is distinct from the blood-stained memories of his past.
His eyes drank in the scene below, the sight unfolding before him like a surreal painting. Men and women — their gazes fixed on horizons unknown — strolled through the steel-laden paths without so much of a glance, the weapons on some of their person openly displayed as if they were mere accessories rather than something dangerous. It struck him as odd, almost unnervingly so... in fact, the way their features diverged from what is considered normal, the subtle alterations on their bodies that simply doesn't belong? He couldn't deny that the sight alone had come close to convincing him that perhaps — just perhaps — he was in an entirely different world... or at least, somewhere so far removed from Vein that mankind itself seemed to have taken a detour in their evolutionary dance.
Of course, he had tried to play it down... to convince himself that his entire experience up until this point had been nothing more than a lie — a brief illusion conjured as a consequences of absorbing all of the Queen's Relics — but now that he have had the time to ground himself, even he had to admit that it was no fleeting dream. It lingered... it persisted... and more than anything, that realization had terrified him the most.
'... not to mention the apparent lack of even a single Thorn of Judgement...'
His hand balled into a fist as he landed upon another empty balcony, the sole of his boots scraping against the smooth surface without nary a sound. A sigh — soft and gentle in its echo — made its way out of his lips as he began to walk across the platform, twin orbs of crimson and azure looking at what appears to be a family enjoying their dinner before they went toward the hospital a few blocks away. A faint hint of rain whispered against the cityscape, its patter marking the onset of a drizzle; he allowed his fingers to graze against the outline of one of the two firearms concealed beneath his vest, mind debating whether he should test his luck or to simply keep to the rooftops.
On one hand, attempting to blend with the locals would've offered him a better feel at how their society works... but was it truly worth it? After all, it's not like he couldn't do the same from the shadows... although, there is a downside in that he would not be able to know how these people will react to his appearance.
'... no... too risky.'
Up until now, the only people he had come in close contact with were those of the ghettoes — the downtrodden and the forgotten folks — and as foolish as it might've been, it would be unreasonable for him to expect everyone to act the same way.
Then again, it's not like he could just go down and walk through the door... demanding their medication with little to nothing in exchange.
'... later, perhaps.'
In the end, logic prevailed; the Revenant shook his head, attempting to clear the errant thought that had threatened to cloud his judgement. He could feel the ichor coursing through his veins, his attention shifting upon one side of the hospital before he proceeded to kick off the balcony's edge. Cold, night air began to caress his skin as he launched himself upwards, the sensation lost the moment his form vanished into a haze of crimson...
She could feel the vibrations beneath her feet as the car came to a stop, its tires making a hushed whisper against the cold asphalt. The rhythmic beat of the droplets started to echo like a soft percussion against the roof, creating with it a soothing backdrop to the symphony of the night. As the chauffeur opened the door with an impeccable grace, the scent of the rain-soaked city wafted in — a delicate mixture of earthy freshness and urban dissonance; she stepped out onto the wet pavement, her polished boots making a subtle tap against the ground, the sound blending seamlessly with the ambiance of the drizzling tears.
Her hand reached out, fingers curling around the handle of the proffered object — the silk-like fabric rippled with each movement, its muted color blending with the darkness of the night. She extended the umbrella over her sister, shielding the girl from the gentle droplets; her gaze, poised and vigilant, surveyed the surroundings — the towering hospital looming in the background like a guardian of health amidst the vibrant cityscape. The shimmering lights of the institution's facade painted an ethereal glow upon the rain-kissed streets, their illumination evoking a sense of quiet contemplation.
"We shan't be long; have the car ready to pick us up in thirty." Margaret intoned with a composed demeanor, her words a refined melody in the nocturnal air. "In the meantime, you — along with everyone else — are free to do as you wish..."
"Of course, My Lady," the man, clad in a meticulously tailored uniform, acknowledged her command with a bow of deference, his voice a deep resonance that mirrored the distant rumble of thunder beyond. "However, I'm afraid that I must insist on having both Sir Klaudiusz and Dame Urszula posted around the perimeter."
"Hmm... cautious as always, Ludomił," she responded with a faint smile, her tone a measured cadence, every syllable laced with a hint of authority. "Very well, then; that is acceptable. You are dismissed."
"By your leave..." He proceeded to retreat to the vehicle, the door closing with a muted click — the sound a subtle punctuation to the orchestrated rhythm of the rain.
"Come, Maria," she murmured with an air of composed assurance as she guided her sister through the glistening path, their refined steps gliding with a dignified poise reminiscent of a waltz. "Let us not keep the good doctor waiting, shall we?"
"Okay~!"
"Now, be mindful of where you walk," a playful giggle escaped from the smaller Kuranta, its tone cheerful melody amidst the pitter-patter of the rain — the droplets painting their passage in a veil of silver. "We wouldn't want you to slip and ruin that lovely dress of yours, would we?"
"I know how to take care of myself~!" She replied with an open laugh, her voice a mixture of innocence and youthful exuberance.
"And I know that you can, but you can't blame me for worrying over my li-"
*Ba-dump*
Her head snapped to the side, her words dying in her throat as she focused her gaze around a window on the upper floor of the hospital; a breeze — gentle and cool — swept through the air, its whispers weaving through her strands of blond as she pulled her sister behind her back.
It was nothing more than a flicker of movement — a crimson blur streaking across her peripheral vision... and yet, it had been more than enough. Her senses sharpened, her posture tensing ever so slightly as she began to reach for the sword strapped to her belt — instincts honed through years of training compelling her to remain vigilant. She held her stance for what felt like hours, the ambient noise of their surroundings blending with the soft, steady thrum of the cascading droplets; her eyes scanned the vicinity, her ears strained in an effort to catch even the tiniest of sound.
The faint rustle of foliage, the muffled hum of a distant traffic, and the ever-present symphony of the rain... all of them merged into an orchestral crescendo, an ensemble that spoke of both caution and rea-
"Big Sis?" Her attention snapped back towards her sister, senses alert yet calming at the grounding familiarity of her voice; she could see the look of innocence adorning the smaller Kuranta's features, her gaze wide with a mixture of curiosity and worry. "Is there something wrong?"
"Hmm? Ah, no... it's just..." The Primus candidate proceeded to shake her head, a soft exhale escaping from her lips — her grip on the hilt of her blade relaxing as she tried to regain her composure. "Nevermind; I thought I saw something... must be my imagination."
Or was it?
While it was only for an instant, Margaret could've sworn that she saw a figure crashing against the window — their form vanishing into the darkened interiors with a sound akin to a muffled rustle... that, and a very, very distant echo of displaced air. Of course, that is not to mention the manner in which her senses seemed to just heighten themselves, awareness going into overdrive for the briefest of moments.
Then again, it could also be just as she had said... a byproduct of her overactive imagination... or perhaps, it was simply because she was more tired than she had thought. After all, like her grandfather had once taught her, fatigue has a way of weakening even the most stalwart of knights... one way or another.
Regardless...
"Are you... certain?" Her sister inquired, her eyes reflecting genuine concern; Margaret's gaze softened as her orbs of brown met with those of the younger girl, the warmth in her voice a simple reassurance amidst drizzling cacophony.
"To tell you the truth, I do not know... though I believe it is likely to be the case." She allowed the faintest hint of a smile to tug at the corner of her lips, the slight upturn an attempt to dispel the tension that had momentarily clouded her countenance. "But really, there is no need for you to worry, okay? Now, come... we have dallied long enough."
"... if you say so," replied the honey-eyed Kuranta, reluctant acceptance filling her words; the Primus candidate extended a protective arm around her sister, her thoughts as fleeting as the moonlit sky.
Their journey was a short one, if not somewhat surreal — the swirling emotions brewing within her heart echoing the cadence of the raindrops. Cold, night air caressed their cheeks, while moisture lingered on their skin like a delicate caress. The slick cobblestones beneath their feet held a muted luster, their surfaces glistening with a pearlescent sheen under the soft, ambient glow of the lamps; shadows danced in the fleeting breeze as the siblings maneuvered their way across the carefully, cultivated garden, its corners adorned with blooming flowers that seemed to whisper secrets of their own.
Time passed, the seconds turning into a minute before they reached the hospital's side entrance, a discreet portal often overlooked by the common folks. Margaret — her hand firm yet gentle on her sister's arm — led Maria through the entryway with an innate elegance, her movements fluid as if choreographed by the night itself.
The hushed corridors greeted them with a serene ambiance, the hum of distant machinery resonating like a tranquil melody. Soft, ambient lighting cast a serene glow upon the polished floors — their color adding a subtle warmth amidst the clinical sterility; fragrances, a blend of antiseptic and faint traces of medicinal herbs, lingered in the air — their aroma offering a peculiar comfort that masked the underlying purpose of the medical facility.
"Ah, Lady Nearl and... Young Miss Nearl," greeted a mature woman with a voice that mirrored the sophistication of a seasoned professional, the smile on her lips widening ever so slightly at the sight of the pair. "Here for your appointment with Dr. Claussel, I assume?"
"Miss Serce," she chimed, her voice a melodic resonance that matched the poise of her noble upbringing — her cheek meeting the woman's own in a gesture of affection. "Indeed, the two of us are here for our examination, although we're still... ten minutes early, I believe." The Kuranta spared a moment to look the woman up and down, taking note of the absence of the military garb that she often saw her with. "We were not informed of your return; I hope the day finds you well?"
"As well as it could be," Serce Lecznik — a seasoned doctor and a once dedicated member of the Nearl's household staff — acknowledged Margaret's observation with a graceful nod, her tone a blend of professional decorum and a hint of wistfulness. "Still, you not knowing was to be expected, I suppose; after all, I have only arrived this afternoon. Even your grandfather has yet to be notified of my return."
"This morning?" She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Should you not be resting, then? For you to return to work on the very same day of your arrival... I believe I must express my disapproval, Miss Serce."
"Rest has its own virtues, My Lady, but I find solace in my work." The woman chuckled, a warm and genuine sound that resonated throughout the sterile surroundings. "It is where I belong, after all these years."
"Dedicated as always, I see... but do you not think you should allow yourself a brief respite, at least for today?"
"Old habits die hard, I'm afraid," her expression softened, a momentary flicker of vulnerability crossing her features. "Besides, you know as well as I do that in our line of work, duty often calls regardless of the hour or circumstances."
"Hmm," Margaret closed her eyes, her mouth curving into a subtle smile as she considered the doctor's response. "I suppose there is little I could do but to remind you of the importance of one's well-being."
"Will you, now? Well... you can at least rest easy, My Lady; your worry does not go unnoticed, and I truly appreciate your consideration. Still, it appears that some things just never change, no?"
"Indeed... some things simply do not." She replied, a contented sigh escaping from her lips as she cast a sidelong glance at her sister; the younger girl stood with a bubbly smile, her honey-colored eyes absorbing the exchange between the two women.
"A matter that is worth celebrating, if I do say so myself... nonetheless, you two certainly seem to have grown since the last time I've seen you." Serce remarked, her gaze shifting from Margaret to Maria. "And what about you, Young Miss? Still giving your sister some trouble?"
"I am not~! And you can just call me Maria, Grandma~"
"Oh, nonsense; such informality would only be improper." The doctor responded with a gentle yet firm tone, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a warmth that spoke of shared history.
"Perhaps... but I beg to differ; as a matter of fact, I must say that I concur with Little Maria, Miss Serce," she added with a hint of amusement, her words causing the smaller Kuranta's face to instantly morph into a pout — cheeks bulging with a playful defiance reminiscent of an angry chipmunk. "And speaking of, it would gladden me if you could also refer to me by my name... at least, in private, if not in public."
"You too? Well, you are Kirill's descendants; such behavior is to be expected, I suppose." Her laugh — light and melodious — was accompanied with a shake of her head, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Fine, fine... in private it is." She mused, a wistful smile crossing her features; the doctor proceeded to gesture at the empty hallway, her movements smooth and practiced. "Come on, then... let's get you both to Dr. Claussel."
"By all means; please, lead the way..."
The subtle scent of aged leather lingered in the air as he reached for the glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose — orbs of molten yellow scanning the report spread across the polished surface of his desk. He proceeded to lean into his chair, allowing the soft creak of its well-worn upholstery to harmonize with the ambient hum of the room. The floor beneath his feet exuded a coolness that contrasted with the warmth emanating from the lights above, their illumination a gentle radiance that bathed the space in a warm cascade of golden hues.
"-ed an unusual surge in shipments within the last fortnight, all of which seems to align with the Armorless Union's recent activities. Their movements also hint at a coordinated effort, and there are indications pointing toward a potential collaboration with certain members amongst the numerous factions that governed the lo-"
His gaze — sharp and perceptive — flickered towards the windows, eyes capturing the muted glow of the night beyond. The subtle drizzle painted the transparent surface with delicate rivulets, creating with it a mesmerizing pattern that mirrored the complex dance of power in the city below. He allowed his gaze to wander, fingers tracing an intricate pattern as he took in the rest of the room — from the seamless dark marble to the simple, yet elegant weapons that adorned the walls; decorative banners bearing the proud crest of the Nearl's household swayed ever so slightly, their symbols a testament to the family's legacy.
"-ding to the latest intelligence, the K.G.C.C. has shown increased interest in the city's eastern sector, with most of their focus being directed toward the 13th industrial plate. This, coupled with the steady increase in the Union's presence, raises concerns about potential power shifts in that particular region. Furthermore, we managed to intercept a coded message pertaining to their plan in the upcoming Grand Final of the Major, and we have reasons to believe that an attempt on Lady Margaret's life may be imminent during, if not after the event — with the likelihood of the targeted assault escalating should she emerge victorious in her match."
"Hmm... disturbing, but nothing we did not expect; after all, those capitalists will do whatever it takes to further their own agenda. Anything to line up their own pockets, really." His knuckle rasped against the table in the brief silence that followed, the sound a lingering echo as he turned his gaze back towards the man standing before him. "You are certain that this information is accurate?"
"To my knowledge, My Lord. Our sources have proven reliable thus far; the details were cross-verified, and the patterns are consistent with their previous maneuvers."
"I see," he couldn't help but to let out a sigh — a gentle exhale that carried with it the weight of responsibility. "That is... unfortunate, in a way." An exotic carpet — white and plush — absorbed the sound of his measured steps as he rose from his seat, the fabric yielding under his movements like a snow would a heavy tread. "I want constant updates on their movements. Dispatch a team to monitor their activities, and inform our allies within the Adeptus Sprawiedliwi."
"Of course, My Lord. Should I arrange for another protective detail in regard to Lady Margaret?"
"No, exposing her to additional guards will only draw unnecessary attention... for now, at least. Instead, ensure that the existing security remains vigilant, and if possible, bolster their numbers. Also, you are to double the patrols, but keep them discreet; I don't want the K.G.C.C. catching wind of our countermeasures."
"As you command, My Lord; I shall see to it immediately..." His aide spoke with an unwavering commitment, his voice a reflection of loyalty ingrained through years of services. "Is there anything else I could help you with?"
"No... no, that will be all," a hint of hesitation crept into his voice, uncertainty and concern intertwining within his thoughts; doubt gnawed at the edges of his consciousness — a veil of reluctance akin to a creeping fog. "You may go..."
"By your leave..." The words that came out from the Vulpo's lips were swift, his posture rigid and respectful as he executed a formal bow; he proceeded to stride towards the door, the heels of his boots echoing against the marble floor.
Kirill Nearl, Knight Primus of the Nearl, simply nodded in response, the golden accents of his attire catching the soft glow of the chandelier — their mirror-like sheen dancing with the subtle radiance as he reached for a cigar hidden beneath his coat. He took a few steps towards the glazed walls, fingers brushing against a twig of white; its ashen leaves rustled in response, a faint whisper of nature that melded with the distant murmurs of the city outside. Tendrils of smoke wove a delicate tapestry as he lit the aromatic roll, the scent of rich tobacco adding a layer of sophistication to the atmosphere.
'... it's just one thing after another.' He mused silently, his thoughts echoing in the stillness of the night. 'Schnitz... Yolanta...'
While he might have succeeded in concealing the depths of his emotional turbulence behind a mask of stoic composure, even he cannot deny the fact that the disappearance of both his son and his daughter-in-law had affected him more than he cared to admit. The burden of their absence lingered in the quiet expanse of his heart, a cavernous void that echoed with the whispers of their memories. Much like the ghostly touch of a vanishing shadow, the incident had carved a palpable void within the once vibrant tapestry of his life; in those moments of solitude — when the world quieted down — the images of their laughter and warmth swirled in the recesses of his mind, their absence a constant ache in his aging soul. Truly, it felt as if Terra herself mourned the advent of their loss, the air heavy with the nostalgia of times long gone.
Regardless, to think that the day has come for his granddaughter to tread the same path, one that is wrought with both dangers and perils... the very notion had sent shivers down his spine — a chill that transcended the physical realm and settled deep within the cradle of his fears. It scared him... it terrified him... the prospect of Margaret being lost to him just like how her parents did... still, if that was to be the case, then perhaps...
'... sometimes, the safest of paths lies in the harshest of places, was it? What a fool you are, Kirill; at least, take heart, for to prune a flower is to allow it the chance to grow even stronger...'
Decisions made, the Primus steeled himself against the storm brewing within; he resisted the urge to waver — refused the temptation of simply giving up — not when there was something he could yet do to alter the course of events.
"Wait," he interrupted the retreating steps of his aide with a determined voice, the tones of his call piercing through the otherwise quiet office. "On a second thought..."
"My Lord?" The Vulpo pivoted just as he was about to turn the doorknob, concern etched across his features. "Is there something wrong?"
"It is nothing you need to concern yourself with," Kirill reassured him, taking his own seat with deliberate calmness; he motioned for his aide to approach, the edges of his lips twitching into a grim smile as his mind began to work on an unjust, if not an outright cruel plan. "But come; have a seat, and stay a while..."
"I'm sorry?"
"I need you to deliver a message to Młynar." His hand reached for a pen, its smooth texture meeting his firm grasp as he poised it over a pristine sheet of paper — the blank canvas awaiting the deft strokes of his resolve. "We have an arrangement to make."
Proofreading and Editing by FargoneMyth/sadron.
Author's Note: Happy New Year~! So... I managed to write a decent amount, around 11.2k or so, I think? A bit too long for a single chapter, so I decided to split it up. Not sure when I'll be able to do the rest, though; got to fix some of the earlier chapters first, since the MC doesn't really fit with the image I have for the Revenant. Just a minor alteration, really. Anyway, the timeline is set; just a week or two prior to the Radiant's exile. Don't know if I managed to portray the characters right, but... eh... Blemi did say that Margaret seemed somewhat gentler upon her return, so I wrote her as someone who is both formal and strict this time around. Of course, I also tried to show the love she has for her sister through their interactions, and well, I'd like to think that I managed to do it right, but in the end, even that is up for debate. Oh, and there's not much scene for the Revenant. Kinda intentional, to be honest, since this chapter and the next will only serve to provide a groundwork for future interactions between the Revenant and Margaret. That, and a little bit of world building. With that said, I gotta go~ Hope you enjoy the chapter, and as always, remember not to be too harsh with your review~!
Disclaimer: Code Vein belongs to Bandai Namco; Arknights belongs to Hypergryph Network.
Next Update: Remnant of Void and Flame followed by TBA.