NationStates Jolt Archive

"General," Alec asked turning to look at him, "Why don't you look at us and tell us what assets you have in the area so we can coordinate properly? It makes sense for a general to look at someone in the eye when addressing them, no?"

"Please Mr. President, he may not be well. I hope that is not the case, General? " Dmitriy asked. "To the best of my knowledge," he continued after a brief pause, "We believed there was a credible threat on his life last night, when we noticed Nos in Alex's room. Our GSS agents incapacitated the man and your guards took him away. We left him under guard the entire night and took him back after dinner. Who do you know may be an enemy of him, either from within your nation or without?"

Alex stood up and turned his back to the gentlemen, the gun he carried on him in evident view now. He walked to a container of juice and poured himself a new glass before turning back and resumming his seat. "I believe my assets are well known," he spoke, a hint of almost an aggressive anger filling his voice.

Whitecastle guards nearby overheard the play of words and walked over quickly, "Forgive their ignorance sir. They are not familiar with our customs."

Turning to Alec, one of the guards began to speak, "in our nation, you do not address Generals in such a tone. Generals uphold national values by risking their lives daily. If a General chooses not to look you in the eyes, that is his right. You must realize that in many cultures, maintaining eye contact is disrespectful, as it is in Whitecastle?"

"Well said," Alex added, turning slightly away from Alec to speak to Tresckow, "we need to find out who is in danger before this summit and ensure that they are well protected for that event."

"Indeed, have you heard anything from your men?" Tresckow responded.

"Nothing yet. They are following a lead. Civilians are also joining the search," Alex responded as he turned back to Alec, "there are some suspicions that are not promising for your nation."

Tresckow nodded, "I see. Do you really believe that?"

Alex continued to look down at his plate, "There was a period of time where your guards were the only ones in contact with Alex during the night. Those guards are in the process of being reviewed at the moment. You are not to contact them until they arrive back at the quarters. Our questioniing must not be hindered."

Azzan chuckled softly and silently, Alex definitely knew the part well enough to keep those who didn't know him well fooled into believing he was a general. Well well Alex, one surprise after another... perhaps I can help you pull off one more and have you live longer than anyone expects. Azzan smiled, hiding it behind a mug of coffee- soon enough there'd be a time for that, he had to focus on keeping him alive till he could work on the project that'd culminate in the incarnation of his philosophy. Alex was his friend, but that didn't mean he could be other things aswell. And with that Azzan stood, "It would be for the best with the summit being so close afterall."

Having retired to bed after Tresckow, Erzsebet had slept soundly through the night. As moroii were naturally more nocturnal, she had stayed awake for a while sipping wine and gazing at the sea from the open window of her room. It had been a calm night, no storms, just the rhythmic distant sound of the waves with the occasional call of a seabird. The vampiress had always loved the sea. Almost all members of her clan did. She would have preferred to sleep aboard her flagship, but despite the intrigue and the thoughts about Dante, Erzsebet had found the atmosphere... peaceful, here.

Another aspect of her kind being more nocturnal was dislike of getting up too early in the morning. And so, despite being well-rested, the Callisdrunian found herself in a rush to get to breakfast. After waking and realizing that everyone else was probably already up, she hastily went through her morning grooming routine, tying her hair up and slipping over her body a dark blue dress. The deep color was almost always used by government officials, from the King on down when officially representing Callisdrun to foreign countries. As soon as she had her socks and boots on, she headed out the door.

On her way, she noticed a commotion around Alex's room. "What's this all about?" she asked, seeing guards and other people clustered around the door.

"Alex has gone missing, Ma'am," a guard responded. "Evidence of a struggle was found in his room this morning, but he's simply gone. We don't know where, but we've mounted a search for him."

Thanking the man, she continued on her way, now troubled by the fact that Alex had somehow vanished. Who took him? Are the rest of us at risk?. She couldn't help thinking about it. The vampiress was now very glad that they had let her keep her axe. Though it was a ceremonial weapon of honor, it was still quite deadly in trained hands. It would be unfortunate if she had to use it, which she wouldn't do except as a last resort. They had placed trust in her in letting her keep it, as a matter of honor.

Once she arrived, she noted the presence of Alec Trevelyen, Azzan Medici, General Tresckow and a man who appeared to an officer of high rank, probably from Whitecastle himself. "Good morning, sirs" she said. When she gave him a better look, she was startled to notice that the officer of Whitecastle bore a striking resemblance to the missing man. Could it be that he is Alex? she asked herself. Erzsebet dismissed the thought, it was silly. Not just silly, it was ridiculous.

Sitting herself down at the table, the vampiress politely took her napkin, put it in her lap and then helped herself to the food. Once she had served herself, the picture of her and her plate looked a bit incongruous. After all, she was a notably small person, but the amount of food on her plate was huge. Along with a little bit of eggs and two pancakes, there were literal piles of bacon and sausages. With no further ado, she tore in. Erzsebet didn't eat noisily or in a way that was in any other way impolite, but she ate fast, and appeared to be well on her way to reducing the mountain of a breakfast to mere crumbs.

When Alec had failed to respond, Alex turned his attention to Erzsebet, but kept his gaze still set on his plate. He shuffled his weight uncomfortably at the presence of Erzsebet, something vague surfacing in his memory which he could not easily pinpoint.

He nodded a quick nod of acknowledgement before turning back to his breakfast, finishing the remains. The silence made him oddly uneasy....an unusual response he rarely had. "Erzsebet. Did you sleep well?" he asked, his attention still on the plate before him.

Her mouth full of food, Erzsebet waited until she had chewed and swallowed to answer the General's question. It would not do to talk with one's mouth full at a diplomatic event, such was a poor display of manners. Once she had swallowed her rather large bite of bacon, however, she responded right away, regarding him with her normally-burning eyes, which, though still possessing a certain intensity, seemed to hint that the mind behind them at the moment was a bit more calm than usual... like the difference between a gusty day and a raging storm. "I did, quite well in fact, thank you," she replied, her gaze not moving an inch.

"My room was quite comfortable, very relaxing, especially with the windows open to let in the breeze and the sound of the waves on the shore." For Erzsebet, it was actually a little discomforting not to be able to sense the ocean nearby, as it was for many vampires of the Sorvik clan. Still looking at the General whose face appeared so much like that of Alex (she still found it quite odd), the moroii put yet more meat onto her plate and promptly resumed eating.

"Actually," Alec turned to the guard. "You would be very surprised. In other cultures, looking at someone in the eye shows you are paying attention to them, and actually are attentive to them. Not looking someone in the eyes is a sign of rude disrespect, and even an attempt to conceal something, possibly that someone may be lying." He gave a cold look at the strange yet ignorant guard, who obviously knew little about diplomacy.

"Dmitriy," he motioned to Dmitriy, "Find the guards who were guarding Alex last night against Nos. They must not be harmed. They are under diplomatic immunity and will not answer any questions without my External Affairs Minister present."

"Right," Dmitriy turned and with some of his GSS detail, told one of the lead Whitecastleian guards. "Show me where they are being held. They are under Govindian jurisdiction and diplomatic immunity and will not answer any questions from foreigners without my being present. To do so otherwise would violate neutrality and international law. Now, please direct me to where they are being held now, shall we?"

Alex felt an old rush of anger consume him, the clenching it took on his heart, as he wielded the handgun. In a quick rush, Alex brought the butt of the handgun across Alec's face.

"You might be a diplomat, but you are no better then anyone here. You will not speak to my men that way. You disrespect our culture, disrespect my men, and now you overextend our hospitality. May I remind you that you are in Whitecastle, a stronghold of The Elite Empire. We have always been known for our fericous loyalty to government and now you have insulted it. I would have kindly warned you but you give little regard to others. Ignorant ethnocentric bigot. Veloachalatt! If you think the way you do everything is the way we all should you need to get the hell out of here before your ignorance gets you killed," Alex's anger burst forth, the curses sliding out of his mouth all too naturally as if he were truly a Whitecastle citizen.

He could not explain where those feelings came from. His father died in this nation, mixed emotions filled him, but that did not compare to the respect he had for Whitecastle. His father was killed by rogue leaders, not citizens, no, the people of Whitecastle assisted in The Reich's get away....but why this sudden outburst?

Moving away from the table, Alex took several steps backward, his gun still wielded. He was breathing heavily, the anger still gripping his heart.

When the guard saw Alex's response, he quickly blocked the doorway preventing Dmitriy from leaving. "You were told you were not to interfere with the investigation. And I think you misinterpret diplomatic immunity here. You are immune from death at our hands. You are still subjected to questioning and imprisonment if you have committed a crime in our nation. And if you think that pulling your guards away is going to make you look innocent, you can take their place in our prisons from refusal to cooperate."

Alex barely paid much attention to the play of words, but walked past the guard who moved enough out of the way from him alone to pass.

Alec moved back a bit from the blow, and coughed a little as his guards rushed to him. Holding his mouth, he saw blood....and then felt something.....he spit it out, blood and...a molar, to the ground.

"What arrogance is this?" Dmitriy shouted angrily. "You disrespect my President, you attack him without phyiscal provocation, when he is unarmed? What honour do you have for attacking someone in such a barbarous manner? I take it you would also do the same to defenceless women and children?

"Whitecastle is supposed to be extending hospitality to diplomats. We are not at war and your military officer had the gall to attack the leader of a sovereign nation without physical justification. He has a right to question your official, and we have a right to be witness to any interrogation of our guards, who are under Govindian authority and will only answer to us." He walked away from the GSS detail who was trying to keep Alec steady. "You want us to cooperate? Fine. We will. Allow me and my escort to come and witness the interrorgation of the guards. I need to see that they are treated properly. They will answer to me, but their protocol dictates they do not answer to any foreigner. I suggest you let me come along so their cooepration can be expedited by me."

Alec coughed more blood again, and this time an incisor popped out. "Shit, that dishonourable little..."he stopped himself as he felt a rumble. Feeling around his pocket in his blue suit, which was by now a bit blood-stained, he opened up his mobile phone. It was a brief text message from Rajay. He opened it.

"Military man will die if freedom not given. You have 72 hours."

"Si--" he said, struggling to speak while still attempting to clear his head. He shoved the phone to Simon Pierce, his head of detail. Simon seeing it, motioned to the Whitecastle guards who were still around.

"Pardon this bullshit," he said, but we got a hostage situation now. Our defence minister has less than 72 hours to live if we don't find him and soon. Given that we are not allowed arms, we need assistance."

The guard grabbed Dmitriy by the jaw, holding his face level to look him in the eyes. "You are a weak creature. I could crush you myself if my General permitted me to. You call yourself defenseless and you do not hold your tongue. Tongues are weapons in this nation. You speak rudely. Expect to be treated rudely. I do not know your government but from what I have seen your government is puppet nation. You established your government around some ideals you think you believe and you do not freely think for yourself. Do you even know what it means to fight for something you love? This is a nation of the people....this is what we wanted....and you insult our entire nation by not adopting to our customs. We fought a long bloody war to be where we are today away from a Dictatorship and free to decide for ourselves what we want. You disregard our entire history because you don't agree with us? You are lucky my General does not permit me to snap you into two. Do not insult us again," the guards cold voice sounded, warning both diplomats that they were tapering on a thin line.

When he heard word of need of their assistance, the guard let out a loud boisterous laugh. "I love how kaniesha works. You insult us and need our help now. You should think before you speak. Do you often behave as such on foreign lands?"

The guard turned from the room though and walked out, leaving them there in stunned silence.


Up the corridor though, he saw the General bent over clutching the wall for support. Rushing over, the guard placed a hand on the General's shoulder, "Sir, are you well?"

Gasping for breath, Alex looked at him, "I need my medication.... In my room.... Help.... Quickly...."

It took a moment for the guard to realize that his General was actually the missing Alex, but he nodded with acknowledgement and helped Alex into his room. Locking the door behind him, the guard helped Alex onto his bed and ran to the bathroom to fetch him the spilled medications. Pouring the handfuls onto the bed, Alex quickly grabbed a bottle and took a pill. Shortly after, his breathing began to relax and he laid down on the bed to help relieve the labored breaths further.

"Thank you," Alex whispered.

"You are welcome sir. And you pass well for our General. I will not ask questions but know your secret is safe. You have honored us sir and even if you impersonated a General you have do so well that we can overlook that transgression. Rest here. I will report that you are back safely and that the General is watching you from the room. That will give you some time to relax alone and you can always call if you need anything," the guard spoke kindly before leaving the room.

Once alone, Alex rested his head back and closed his eyes, glad for this moment of silence.

Tresckow watched the play of events, Alex snapping, Alec pistol whipped, and now this new ambassador missing. He turned to Dmitriy, the only one who seemed to have the clearest head on them of those representing this Govindia faction.

"If you have a sample I can take his DNA from, we are capable of tracking him for you. Of course, he would be imprinted into our system, which is what makes it possible to locate certain individuals. We have an advanced security system in The Reich that ensures Reich protection. We can bring Rajay into its protection," Tresckow spoke with measured words, weighing what the cost of doing so might be for both Rajay and The Reich.

Letting them have time to contemplate the option, Tresckow poured himself another cup of coffee and returned to the table.

Sneering at the ignorant guard, Dmitriy turned to the General. "Right now at this point, Whitecastle be damned with their convoluted sense of honour," he said in a hushed tone to the General. "Come here, please, " he motioned to Simon. "Do you still have the samples?"

"Yes sir, " he said, taking out a small container. Opening it, he took out a blood sample and hesitated, turning to Alec for approval. "Mr. President?"

Still feeling groggy, Alec stood up and removed his suit coat. It was fortunate enough that most of the bleeding had gone onto his coat and not the rest of his suit. Handing it to a GSS agent to take care of, he rubbed the inside of his mouth with stuffed tissue as a makeshift gauze. "As best as I can tell, the last person seen with him last night was that Victorian women we met," he said, through periods of having to stop the bleeding in his mouth. "She claimed to be from some place in The Reich, though I think it can be a ruse," he said as he walked closer to the General. "She could have possibly been involved in Alex's disappearance, I don't know. There are elements in Marionetsvia, extreme elements, who are aware of the trip we are making here to this nation so it is not surprising if those elements sent in someone to damage our interests. Simon, given him the sample."

"Yes sir," said the GSS head of detail as he handed it to the General. "This is a blood sample of Rajay Vishnu Dhaulpal, our Defence Minister." He then walked off as he was alerting some unknown people over his mouthpiece that one of their ministers was missing. To agents close by, they would hear that Rajay has been missing, and that instructions have been sent to a special forces team onboard the GNS Pillar of Autumn ready to move in should the order be given.

Alec nodded, holding his mouth. Dmitriy continued. "Please hurry quickly. We do have a special forces team stationed on deck on one of our carrier battle groups stationed in international waters, outside Whitecastle, ready to go. We are trusting you to aid us and my agents. We also would like you to aid us in making sure the other GSS agents they have in question are safe and that we can speak with them. In the meantime, we want to help you find Alex and make sure he is safe." Dmitriy waited for the General's response, hoping he was more receptive than the other General Alec dealt with.

Tresckow spoke to his personal guard of Whitecastle who came down shortly after he did to check up on them. He spoke quickly in a hushed whisper to the guard who left the room in haste. Coming back, he handed Tresckow a black case containing a small object that resembled a minature computer. He took a small glass tube and dipped it into the blood and then placed it into a special slot in the machine.

"This is our portable DNA analyzer and transmitter. It gives us direct contact with the security system to initiate DNA tracking. We realized that making trips to The Depths of Hell every other week to do DNA updating was impractical and it did not help us in emergent situations," Tresckow responded casually as the machine analyzed his the blood sample.

In a few moments, Tresckow snapped into a machine like mode as he began inputting numbers and codes into this small handheld machine. His movements were fast, undetectable, as he naturally typed in all the necessary materials.

A laughing came from the small device and Tresckow shook his head, a typical response to the established connection. "Red Queen, track sample 316 908 711 98," Tresckow's simple command ordered.

After a few moments, a small child's voice sounded, "Sample 316 908 711 98 is located at 63 21. Desanti Hall, Sector 0, Whitecastle."

"Thank you Red Queen," he spoke as he shut off the connection.

Turning to Alec, "Rajay is in Desanti Hall. The guards can escort you there. It's across the city not far from where we entered. I would not make mention to how you found him to your enemy. And this woman, she is to brought under Reich custody for committing an international crime in the name of The Reich, if the information you tell us is correct."

Before they left though, Tresckow added an after thought, "You know, I rarely place my opinion into diplomatic matters as I am not a diplomat myself. But the General had several points. There is much you can learn from other countries if you only sit down and listen to them. A great person once said 'When in The Reich, do as The Reich does.' Such simple and profound words that seem obvious yet have saved several lives. We are the ignorant ones in this nation. I do think a formal apology to the Whitecastle guards is needed on your behalf to smooth over any rough edges. Afterall, even though you are not from The Reich, the negative undertones established this morning can effect the way Whitecastle chooses to yield to our surrender. Quite frankly, I like my home and do not want to be enslaved or in duty to a foreign government so please apologize to Whitecastle for me and my nation's sake," Tresckow asked kind and respectful.

Azzan waited till Tresckow was out of the room before laughing as he too left. Govindians were good for one thing and one thing alone it appeared, making fools of themselves. He chuckled, things were going to be interesting and he'd be there to watch it all like the great entertainments in the theatres of his family's homeland. Azzan killed his smile as he passed a gaurd, although he would have to make sure he didn't become part of any spectacle he didn't want to be involved in. He stepped into his room and breathed a large sigh of relief, silence could sometimes be such a comfort.

It took a great effort, Erzsebet found, to sit silently through the events that played out almost as if in a film, the Govindian becoming touchy, the General who looked like Alex clocking him with a pistol and such. Inside, she was laughing uproariously at Alec's foolish assumptions. In a foreign land one could never be too quick to assume, especially a potentially hostile one. It was against their customs to look people directly in the eyes for long. The vampiress only did it anyway out of a matter of pride (one of primary faults of Callisdrunians, it seemed) and because she was not in any other way insulting them, quiet the opposite in fact. It did not do to insult someone multiple times and in multiple ways in their own house.

Through the entire debacle, the moroii kept on eating her breakfast. After Tresckow and Azzan had left, she looked to the injured Govindian. "You know, Alec, if I may call you such," she began, biting off another piece of sausage, showing clearly her long dagger-like upper canines. "You might want to remember that many nations are profoundly different than your own, and have ways that may seem incredibly foreign to you." There was that predatory look in her gleaming emerald eyes, that spark that suggested that though her kind her part of the homo sapien species, that in some aspects they were quite different, somehow less than tame, as if they'd be, despite all their grace, perfectly comfortable if stripped of all modern comforts and turned loose in the wilderness.

"You, and I as well, are clearly not 'special' in the land. I suggest that you act accordingly, it is beyond foolish to rattle on self-importantly about diplomatic immunity in a nation that goes about it in a way unlike yours." Her accent showed through quite strongly, and there was that strange hissing in the background as whenever she spoke, but her tone was not harsh, it was if anything, slightly concerned. Erzsebet continued "and though it may seem outdated and maybe silly to you, never ever underestimate the importance of honor in a land you are not familiar with. It's just as important in Callisdrun, which, by the way, does not have much more in the way of diplomatic immunity than they do here. In my country," she said these three words with what could even be reverence, "if you break the law, you'll be tried, and thrown in prison if found guilty, no matter who you are. And you would do well to avoid insulting your hosts there, or you may find yourself in a duel that you would probably lose, given your likely unfamiliarity with our traditional arms, risking a completely legal violent death." At this, the vampiress stopped, silent for a moment.

And then, with a kindly smile that stood in an odd juxtaposition to the seriousness of her little speech, she stood and said "My apologies if I rambled, I was only trying to offer a little advice. Try to be more careful, you're surrounded by lions, bears, foxes and at least wolf," the last of course, indicated herself, "there's often not much room for error." With that, the woman made ready to leave.

OOC: Callis I love you! You posted!


^_^

Come online!

Tresckow returned to his room and quickly showered, feeling awakened and refreshed by the hot water that ran down his back. Once showered, he dressed in a clean pressed uniform of The Reich's Supreme Council, and inspected himself in a nearby mirror.

Finding himself fit to represent The Reich, he left his room, to find the halls heavily guarded. One of the guards turned to him, "it is time for the summit. Follow me sir."

Following the guard, he traveled several corridors before stopping before large opened doors. He was escorted inside where he took the seat assigned to him with a small plaquette. He was the first to enter and found the peace welcoming. Immediately he noted how dark the room was as spread away from the table. It seemed only the large conference table was emerged in faint light, just enough to comfortably read documents. Brought before him was a black folder with The Elite Empire's symbol encrested in gold on it. He knew the contents well, better the reports would details, but he opened the folder anyway, hoping to jog up his memories.

Alex lifted his head from the pillow, propping it on his arm as he turned to face the still opened window. Morning sunlight broke into the room as a refreshing light breeze blew through the window, the curtains dancing lightly with each light gust. The sound of the lapping waves washed away the unease brought forth from some deep unsettling thoughts he could not quite place.

Rolling off the bed, Alex slowly walked to the shower. He turned the water on warm and stood beneath the shower head. Momentarily, he tried to count each drop that hit his body, but it quickly became futile as the numbers were substantial. Resting his head back against the wall, the water washed down his face and chest, pouring over the exposed port ends. He knew that he should not be getting the port wet as it could potentiate bacterial growth and accumulation, but he cared not....he knew his time was at an end and had come to accept that. Still pangs that he would leave this world fatherless filled him. He was the last heir of the Ruhumunahs, their legacy becoming just a mere legend with his passing. But it was a necessity, serving The Reich was more important at this moment then the continuation of his family line.....the great Ruhumunahs perish with me. He sighed, that unspoken language of internal unrest. Washing himself quickly, he turned the water off and wrapped himself in a towel, feeling the soft material stick to his legs.

Alex left the bathroom, walking across the room to the opened window. He leaned out, taking a deep breath, breathing in the salty crispness of the air. It awakened thoughts of his childhood, a brief moment where he spent time on the beaches with his family. His father lifting him with strong arms and tossing him into the waves as Destiny squealed in delight as she pulled at her fathers leg, "me next! me next!" The last time he was on that beach was during the war, when he was already knee deep in his training, and that beach was the last remaining "safe spot" in The Dictatorship. He remembered briefly how they were cut off from communication early in the war....locked away from the rest of the nation. He also remembered that it was not long before they were evacuated and he was brought under relocation and protection of The Reich by Der Fuhrer Dyszel herself. He shook those memories from his mind; they were no longer relevent in this time.

Letting the salty air cling to his skin, he walked back into the room and finished drying off before dressing. Dawning the flawless uniform of all black with no insignia, he went to the bathroom and quickly brushed through his hair. His wet dark hair was a blackened night in the mirror, reflecting the dark intensity of his eyes. It was a mark of The Dictatorship; those striking dark eyes and thick dark hair. It was as if they were all sons and daughters of Dante and Der Fuhrer Dyszel; although all knew that they too were just products of their homelands. Taking a deep breath, he once again stilled a twinge of internal unrest. He felt clean, washed anew, as he let that breath slowly release. "Time to be a Ruhumunah," he spoke to his reflection, watching the way his lips formed those words. He was truly a diplomat of The Reich, little revealed, all concealed behind a well placed facade. It was the mask all esteemed Reich members learned to bear from their intensive training, a mask that several times saved their region from demise.

But as he gathered his medications and stuffed them in a small black bag, the unsettling feeling returned briefly. Something was not right....this feeling persisted despite his deepest measures to control it. Even the shower had not washed it away. It was a sense deep inside warning him. He realized this as he exitted the room, immediately flanked by guards who escorted him to the meeting hall of the summit. He watched like an eagle, monitoring his surroundings closely for any fluctation or change. Something inside told him to be aware of anything; that he should be on his guard for the completely unexpected.

Taking his seat near the head of the table, he noted that Tresckow and a few other people he did not recognize were already seated and reviewing folders placed before them. When his folder was brought to him, he also opened it, but stared blankly at depth of reading and materials they had presented him with. Did they honestly expect him to read all of this in a short period of time? Politely he motioned for a guard, "May I please have a pitcher of sahalask and a glass sir?" he asked politely.

"As you wish," the guard spoke but did not move, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as if he was enlightened to some secret truth rumors had confirmed. Momentarily though, a guard behind him placed a pitcher before Alex and poured Alex a glass of the sweet smelling fluid.

"Thank you gentlemen," Alex spoke with a nod as they both stepped backward two steps before turning and resumming their posts.

Taking a sip of the drink, Alex caught a brief glance and nod from Tresckow who had approved of his demeanor. Their brief conversation caught in the quick moments when they were given a chance to privately talk still resonated in his mind. The gun he had obtained earlier concealed beneath his uniform jacket, the markings of the General he impersonated still on his arm. No one seemed to notice though, or if they had, no one seemed to find it imperative to intervene.

Turning to the documents, he moved to the back of the pile. Most would start at the beginning....with his limited time, he figured it would work the best if he read the information most would not get to. From his experience, the worst was always masked behind the plethora of what they wanted you to know anyway.

Azzan had dashed back from the strained encounter, he was intent on the small buzzing in his pocket. In his room he activated the comm, Azzan hissed into the microphone in a whisper that carried only to the small screen, "The Summit is going to start are you crazy?!" The researcher obviously didn't take notice and delivered the message, "We've done it sir, the Miracles have fully dispersed among Anceltierre- no adverse effects and there has a been a significant drop in complications from treatment and surgery. Potentate- I believe you can now truly market this in the summit" Azzan smiled, "Good, now get off the line." He received a nod and the line went off. Azzan then went to the summit doors and straightened out his clothes and glasses, his black hair tucked into a respectable tail. He walked in and sat to the right of Tresckow, so the two'd be safe on atleast one side if a... negotiation fell out of dimplomatic terms. He half smiled, "The world is about to be launched into something special. Whether it's a good special or bad I don't know."

First minister Joseph Farragut had been ill the past four months and he found solace in the south of Popeleoma Del Signe where he had been while the second minister worked the country. Arriving at the Politiburo office, he was greeted by a throng of reporters and cameras. Not wanting to answer any questions about the upcoming elections and his recent 4 month leave. As he pushed his way though the crowd, he heard one distinct question scurry into his ear.

"Will there be any PDS involvement at the summit tonight?"

Fearing the worst, he shrugged off the rest of the reporters and entered the building. The elevator ride seemed like an hour. He needed to check the dossiers and reports Goyez should have taken care of. He greeted the secretary quickly with a kiss and a small bottled ship and then pushed the padded door into his office. Goyez was at the subaltern's desk working at a typewriter while an ADC sat at the large empty desk. The room was messy, the floor was littered and strewn with papers and there was a distinct odor of take-out food. As he entered, Goyez stood and gave a quick salute and Farragut shrugged it off. Joseph rushed towards his desk and rifled though the neatly placed portfolios. Reading the labels affixed to the side, he looked for one that said "Summit details". There was no folder that said that.

"Martin. Where's the details for the summit?"

The short fat balding man stood up for a moment, scratched his head for a second and then pulled up a xerox box. It was packed with uncorrelated papers.

"uh, here." He handed Joseph a single sheet of paper.
"Martin, you've been second minister for many years. How come you're so far behind on paperwork?"
"Its usually your work. I had to take on your load and mine as well. I tried sir."
"Its allright."

He moved towards the large window to get better light and read the paper.

"Martin. Call up the Minister of State Affairs quickly, have him meet in here and tell him we have to discuss matters of national importance. Tell him I said national in bold and italicized."

John Woodliff stood before the first minister's desk. Handsome with many good looking features many of the women in the office found dazzling. His long hair and scruffy beard made him popular among the young people. How he wound up as Minister of State Affairs, no one knew but him.

"John, we've got a problem on our hands. There's a Summit going on, there's no one attending. We need our UN Delegate or his representative to attend."
"Sir Baxter is on leave for the moment. We're going to have to use his representative."
"You mean..."
"Yes, I mean Ralph Laird"
"That little cretin?"
"If you want to put it that way, then yes."
Joseph slumped into his chair and let out a heavy sigh.
"Fine. Give him all the details, he's got to go to Whitecastle tonight. Tell him. Strictly no weapons. The only thing he's got to fight them with is his tongue. Tell him no last minute tongue piercings either. Either way, I know he's going to get us into some trouble."

Ralph Laird isn't the kind of person you would see leading men, let alone negotiate with them. But somehow, he got into the profession. Some say when the conditions were perfect, he would blossom and mop the floor with the opposition. But most of the time, he sat quietly though meetings and went home. He received a phone call from his superior, the Minister of State Affairs about some Summit in Whitecastle. The last thing he heard was No Weapons allowed. He was always afraid of everything. As a child, his mother was overprotective of him. Instead of sending him to a UP, he was sent to a special college where everything was safe and sanitary. Being the snide person he was, he strapped his mother's old ladies purse pistol to his sock braces. He suited up and picked out a small group to act as aides on his mission. He chose Arthur Millencamp, a senior debator and a known boozehound and Robert Bollinger, a master translator with tenure and a thing for woman that walked by. They boarded an old UPAAF DC-3 and they took off for Whitecastle.

On arrival, everything seemed to work into place as they got out. The straps that held the small pistol in place were hurting and he fidgeted with them on the tarmac. Arriving at the summit building, they were searched. Arthur and Robert went on first and as Ralph went, his tiny pistol was found. The guard removed it, examined it and held it in front of Ralph's face.

"What is this?"
"Its uh... a lighter?"
"Then why'd you strap it to your leg?"
"Cause its where I like to um.. light my cigarettes."

The guard pulled the trigger. A small bullet from the pistol hit the ceiling and a small amount of plaster rained down. He laughed.

"Surely, this must be a toy."
"Yes it is. Now give it back."
"No. You can check it out when you leave. But not in Summit."

Ralph turned red and flustered. Arthur and Robert quickly grabbed Ralph by the biceps and dragged him into the Ambassador's lounge for a quick snack before the summit.

"Ralph. What are you trying to pull here? You're a representative of the UN."
"No. I'm a representative of a representative of the UN"
"Close enough. You have to pull it together."
"They're going to kill us. Arthur, Robert. Will you be my bullet shields?"
"Look, you're going to have to be on your best behavior. You're representing the nation as well as the UN now."
"Then call Leigh. Tell him cut his break short and get to Whitecastle. I dont think I could do this. He's the one to do it correctly."

The two older men laughed and walked towards the bar leaving Ralph standing by himself in the lounge. He swiveled around to see if anyone might make sudden moves or something that was expected to happen in a movie. He sidled into an empty seat at an uncleared table. He knew it could get worse once the Summit started. Arthur called over.

"You sure you want me to trouble Leigh?"
"Yes. Do it. Please."

He watched as Arthur pulled out a small black book, unlocked it and asked the bartender for the telephone. He slid his diplomatic ID through the side then dialed the number and began to mumble into the phone. He couldn't hear what was going on. Ralph stared at the cluttered mess in front of him. He spotted a butter knife that seemed fairly clean.

"Ralph"

He wheeled around quickly.

"Sir Bax is on his way. You better have a good excuse."
"Oh I do!"

He stood and grabbed the knife, then pocketed it. He walked to the bar and ordered something to relax him. At least now he felt somewhat safe.

Walking in a small V, a group of seven people clothed in crimson cloaks strode the halls toward the summit, their pace synchronized as an air of more then significant importance filled the room. Despite evident limps and flaws in each bodied person, they still traveled as a group, all taking the same even paces, not falling out of step the slightest.....a walk accustomed to the old Reich.

Detouring through the Ambassador's lounge on their way, they saw the ambassadors from Popeleoma Del Signe.

The woman leading the group stopped and extended a slender pale hand, a lock of shimmering blonde hair falling forward from beneath the crimson hood that concealed her face. "Hello my dear," her soft voice spoke as she shifted her position, sending the crimson cloak dancing about her. Still with face concealed, as like the others in almost a cultish fashion, she chuckled, "We wouldn't miss this for any thing. I'm glad you could attend. The Reich is at stake here. We must band together and speak as one today. Do you care to join us on our way to the summit?"

As Ralph, Arthur and Robert began to leave, a group of people had entered the lounge. A woman who made the point of their human V had extended her hand and offered to walk with them towards the summit. Startled by such strange familiarity, Ralph proceeded to pull his hands out of his pocket, pulling out as well the knife he had there. It clattered onto the floor. Arthur seeing his foolish colleague's mistake quickly covered the knife with his foot. Ralph wrenched out a quirky smile as the people in the group looked at the ground where Arthur's foot lay.

"Its nothing. Heh heh."

Arthur poked Ralph in the ribs. Immediately he kissed the extended hand presented to him.

"Erm. Yes. Lets. For the good of the Reich. Shall we proceed then?"

5600 ft Above South Callisdrun
Sir Leigh Baxter served Popeleoma Del Signe as the UN representative for nearly 24 years since last October. Now, his incompetent Chief of Staff would be representing the nation as well as the United Nations in the Summit. First Minister Farragut had managed to fax to the charter jet the details of the Summit. Sir Leigh eased uncomfortably into his plane seat, his mind wandering over details of his last meeting with Ralph. He reached for the decanter of brandy and a snifter. At this point, only time and Ralph's mouth could take its toll.

Smiling at Ralph's mishap, the woman withdrew her hand after he had pleasently kissed it. "A man of the old Reich I see," her voice spoke softly from beneath her crimson and gold lined hood.

As he walked aside of her, extending their V into a U, she motioned with her hooded head to several artifacts lining the corridors. "There, that statue, comes from The Dictatorship. Several of the same kinds used to line our Capital streets. Look at the black marks there on the side. It was removed after the bombing run. I both am insulted and respectful of these people. Whitecastle has preserved pieces of The Dictatorship's beauty and at the same time almost flaunt them in a manner in which we should accept our defeats. I do not believe whomever preserved these fine pieces of art had intended to flaunt victory, but still, it's a general feeling we have in the face of this summit. And look how well preserved this Sector is. They have an acute sense of intrinsic details here," she continued to speak, her voice that of almost a professional.

She stopped before a particular blackened statue, the wings of a man extending out to form a massive wing span, his arms outward holding what should have been a glass globe. Her voice momentarily caught in her throat, she stepped forward and touched the statue lightly, removing her hood to gather a better look at the statue. Immediately blonde locks fell foward, covering her ivory skin. "My goodness, they preserved even this? By The Reich, what a marvelous structure. This used to be made of solid gold and the man held a glass globe which was filled with this mysterious light. It was the light that guided The Reich. Ashamed it did not survive. No one could reproduce that light....it was almost ethereal and folklore says and angelico brought down the light of heaven to guide The Reich during troublesome times. Myths but stills a marvelous structure," she spoke in awe.

Another hooded figure came up beside the woman and placed a black gloved hand on the statue, rubbing away some of the soot. "I found my way home by this light," the unidentified voice whispered, masking beneath the hood. But as soon as the words were muttered, the figure stepped back into place and the blonde locked woman took her cue to resume their walk. She recovered her head, masking her ivory skin and led the way toward the doors that were closed. Ornate doors that protected the halls of the summit.

"We arrive," she said as she was flanked by red hooded figures who preceded her into the hall, walking in such a unison that seemed almost planned. Taking seats close to the head of the table, they surrounded Alex who at the time was alone in his corner of the summit.

He looked up nearly startled, but the crimson cloaks lined in gold reassured him and he poured himself another glass. "Welcome my friends," he spoke to them, each unidentified person nodding in acknowledgement.

A man's voice chimed from the hood, "Son of The Reich, good blood you got. Speak well my boy. We are here to support you."

Alex merely nodded and returned to his folder, reviewing the papers. Folders were brought to each of the hooded figures and some hands gloved and others ungloved slipped out beneath the crimson cloaks. All but one reviewed the materials. The folder sat untouched before the person, the person's head bowed in silent reserve.

Ralph sat motionless at the table. The document folder that lay before him on the table was bound with a piece of red paper tape. Finally mustering courage, he slid it over to himself and broke the seal. He fingered through the papers, glancing at the titles and subheadings and every so often there was a picture or a diagram or some sort of flow chart. This, he could not make out. The words became blurred into a singular blob. He turned his head away from the papers in shock. His eyes were in focus again. He was face to face with one of the people wearing the cloaks. He let out an "eep" and turned back to face the file folder. At first, it was fairly interesting but then, he had a low tolerance on formal documents.

"Could we get started soon?" Ralph inquired nervously.

The hooded faces turned towards him.

5400 feet above Robonia
Sir Leigh had dozed off once the plane left Callisdrunian air space. There was still an hour and a half before they could touch down in white castle. His snifter sat empty on its side on the table by the window. A slight trickle of drool ran down his dignified cheek. His body twitched. He began to mumble. In his head, the explosions of artillery, the sounds of people screaming in pain and the sounds of rifles. Lots of rifles. He woke startled as a shell pierced through a person in his mind. He looked around at the cushy surroundings and slunk back into the chair. Sighed, and righted the snifter. He mouthed out a Chesnuyan prayer slowly and spoke. "The Reich. So much change since I was a boy. I hardly ever think it is the same place. The statues, gone. The cities, leveled. My own mother and father..." He shuddered at the thought. He tried to go back into sleep, but sleep was evasive today.

Tresckow looked up from a glass of water to notice that most of red hooded people were staring at one man. He placed his glass down and turned toward Ralph, who was edging with a nervous that seemed to permeate throughout the room.

Speaking softly as to not augment the silent consternation brewing in the room, "I see you arrived not long ago. The summit is to begin in an hour, well, about forty minutes now. After that time they will close those door and lock them, sealing us in for this summit. No one enters, no one leaves until the summit is over to prevent disruption and interference. Our host has not yet arrived even," he motioned toward the ominiously looming empty seat at the head of the table.

He still looked around the room at the empty chairs which were slowly filling up. "Some of our guests have yet to arrive. They are missing important briefing right now. Whitecastle will not do a formal briefing....it is up to us to review all information on our own. If you have any questions though, you may feel free to ask me. My name is Major General Henning von Tresckow, head of The Supreme Council. Pleasure to meet you," he nodded politely turning back to the document in his hand, but not before noticing the hooded figures all resummed to staring blankly at the table before them. Alex seemed to be the only one intently tearing through document after document, memorizing details, and jotting down notes on a small pad of paper....notes he guessed were points of discussion for the summit. Leaving Alex to work in silence, the only one among them who seemed not to notice the nervous energy of the room, he reread the document in hand before turning to one of the hooded figures.

"Will we be learning who you are or will your identities remained unidentified?"

The hooded figure slowly turned to them, the golden lock of hair falling forward from the hood. "All in good time Major General. All in good time."

Escorted by three armed guards, Noskalenaeuroph took his seat at the table, a roughly stitched cut traveling across his cheek, evidence of being stricken with the butt of a rifle, while his face was discolored deep hues of blue and purple. Looking around the table, he breathed a sigh of relief that those ambassadors from that Govindia Providence were not there yet.

He absent-mindedly reached for a drink that was not there but covered by grabbing the folder and tearing it open with a heated anger that suggested he would kill that folder if it had but a life to kill. After a few moments of disrupting the atmosphere of the room by tearing through page after page, one of the hooded figures rested a gloved hand on his own.

"Nos, what happened to you?" the voice was soft, a singsong melody playing from the unseen mouth concealed beneath the hood.

"Strip searched. Face beat in. Life of an assassin and I wasn't even brought in for a hit. Assholes and their impetuous assumptions. Of course, I organized such. You see, several people here have yet to learn our ways. Never assume. I'd risk having my face beat in to teach that valuable lesson. I hope he feels like an ass when he's done," Nos said as that sardonic grin began to reform on his face in recognition of who he was sitting among.

After a few moments of laughter from the crimson cloaked figures, Nos placed his folder down, and whistled, "So who's our host? Any idea yet? That Perry guy is dead if my sources are correct. But if you ask me, this whole operation screams of Elites. Those guards out there, annihilated someone who rushed into here with a gun moments before I was brought here. I think they're all Elites if you ask me. Too much of a strategic perfection to be guards," Nos pondered some.

Tresckow suddenly interested in this observation turned to Noskalenaeuroph and while stealing a glance toward some of the guards who stood just out of close reach but far enough for quick clean shots should a close range battle erupt. Nos may have very well have been correct in his assessments. "Nos, are you thinking about what I am?"

"Damn sure I am!" Nos yelled, slamming his hand on the table.

But laughter erupted from the door as an athletic beauty stood at the door. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail as her eyes glinted with what appeared to be a green and purple color depending on the lights reflection. She was clearly in her mid thirties to early forties, but still impressively young looking for her age and fit beyond belief. She stood with her arm propping her against the door, her skin glistening with sweat as all she wore was a sports bra and stretch pants. "Surprise! Who else were you expecting?" she laughed, a wild and exhilarated laugh spawned from the rush of endorphins.

Azzan coughed into his water as the vibrant woman made her entrance, out of all the things he'd seen so far he knew this was one of the most dangerous- a beautiful smile often hides the sharpest of teeth. He stood and in a sour tone, "Good morning to you too." Azzan shed his outer jacket and tossed it to the new comer, "Now cover up, if Nos' attitude has it's way we're all going to catch rather nasty colds" He smirked at that, then sat down- his white garments showing like the pure marble of those civilizations in the history books. He chuckled softly, I wonder how this will be remembered? Will it be remembered? Will we be made fools or kings? Azzan grinned, the time to find out was now.

Letting the jacket fall a few feet before her, the woman looked from the jacket to the man who tossed it. She scanned the room, making a mental note of the occupants before bending over to pick up the jacket. She held it in her hands a moment before walking over to the table where Azzan was sitting and handed it back to him.

"There is no need for this, I will be in full military dress after I wash up," she spoke, her voice showing evidence of being accustomed to higher command.

Again, she scanned the room, taking note to the crimson hooded figures, unable to identify them from beneath their hoods. This would be a problem, she noted to herself as she turned away, and strode out of the room, her hair swishing with the motion of her walking.

Nos brought his eyes to one of the crimson hooded figures and then to Azzan, following to Tresckow, "That was unexpected," he spoke in a dead silence, his voice oddly disconnected, that sardonic grin replaced with a look of shock.

"I thought she retired," Tresckow responded back, unable to peel his eyes from the doors she just departed out of.

"She was a mess," Nos whispered, remembering the hysterical cries when she barraged Konigsreich der Mathias wondering where her child and Dante were.

"They hung her," a ghosts voice whispered as one of the black gloved crimson hoods folded their hands above the unopened folder.

Turning his gaze to the figure, Nos was silent, knowing that this person had to have been there in that base to know that kind of information. A profound fact, revealing so much, yet making these hooded people even more mysterious.

"No matter," another hooded voice spoke, "she is mother and I will exploit that if I must. Don't be deceived. She is here to soften us....make us weak.... She is just another ploy that Whitecastle intends to us against us. I will admit it is curious she's here, but I'm more concerned that she's going to get to your heads. Keep it together," the voice spoke, clearly feminine, a position of authority, and a flare of intolerance and rage burning inside.

Flicking a hand up, a guard came to her side, "I would like a drink. Scotch."

Bringing back the drink in a swift manner, the hooded figure began to drink the glass the moment it was placed on the table by the guards.

"The answers your question. They are Elites," she spoke, as she drank from the glass.

Someone's been listening in Azzan thought to himself as he put the coat back on, "My what big ears you have.... What's you're name? I don't believe we've been formally introduced." Azzan arched an eye brow as the guards around her became as timid as house cats, oh she had influence- she was definitely not of the normal stock. Azzan let out a crooked smile as he thought she just might be a link to some of the foundations of the reich itself. Azzan had come to the conclusion that the weirder they were in the Reich- the more likely they had links to the bedrock the reich stood upon. Ofcourse, he couldn't be sure but an educated guess was better than no guess at all.

The woman in the hood kept her identity concealed. "In due time," she spoke in a sharp short sentence. She quickly drained her glass and placed the empty glass down, satisfied for the moment with her drink.

At that moment, Alex seemed to tear himself from his documents, an obviously distracting task as his eyes kept drifting back to the document still in his hand. "There is so much here..... I never knew....." but his voice trailed off, withdrawing into himself as painful thoughts filled his head. He steadied himself with a few breaths and several sips of his drink.

He knew now was not the time to have second guesses. Rubbing his port, he could feel the exposed tubes, and suddenly was struck by how dangerous that was to walk into this room with such easy access to his heart. It nearly killed him once, he remembered, but his eyes locked on one of the hooded figures and he felt that unsettling feeling come back. Who was that person? He was sure he did remember any one person who had ever left him with such an unsettling feeling before or even a single event that would trigger such an uncomfortable response stirring within him.

Turning back to his documents with a shaking hand, he engrossed himself, and within a full minute he was once again in that trancelike state that he used to review all of the reports.


Noticing the momentarily lapse in Alex, Tresckow had his own doubts again. He knew he was following orders, but Alex was still so young, so promising. Maybe he was not the best choice for this job....it would most likely result in his death. Rubbing his temples he already began to feel a throbbing enter his head. The summit had not yet begun and already there was enough on their plates to last them a year.

Dante awoke again to an early morning light that waded through the withdrawn drapes. His mind rushed with the presence of a woman, the smell of her hair filling his nostrils and the warmth of her body next to him. It was almost to his disbelief for it had been so long since he laid in bed with a woman, more so, a woman in which he had feelings for. However, his eyes had not failed him, as laying next to him was a beautiful woman, whose head rested peacefully on his chest.

Words were trapped in his mouth as he stared at her. It was surreal, almost equivalent to a waking dream as memories filled him of other mornings waking aside this simple beauty. His heart ached as other memories filled him, memories of violence, destruction, and Code Six informing him of his impending end....he could almost see the finality in it.

"Breanna?" the words escaped him as he reached up to touch her hair, chancing disrupting this all too perfect moment that he was still convinced his mind was imagining.

She stirred awake at the sound of his voice, turning toward him to look at him....a smile spreading across her face. "You're alive," she smiled happily, unable to restrain her joy at seeing him again, her voice as soothing and relaxing as a fine day on the beach.

He said nothing as he stared into her, the reality of this moment setting in, confirming this was not a dream.

"You were gone so long. I thought they planned to kill you. I tried to find you, but they didn't leave a good trail to follow. One night I went to sleep and woke up in this building surrounded by men who wore your uniforms and no one would tell me what was happening. I managed to learn that you were believed to be dead, but I just couldn't accept that," she quickly confessed the moments since their separation to him, trying to convey a sense of urgency and love at the same time. "What's going on Dante?" she asked, staring into the impassive face of her lover.

Dante merely stared at her, unable to formulate his thoughts into words. How could he tell her this was the end for him? That he was walking down the road to his own guillotine, one he had for years built for this very moment. If only he could go back to that quiet country home and that warm bed and forget it all again. He remembered the troublesome feelings he harbored when his memories failed him, when he was a man without a past, when he was able to walk down the street an unknown man without an identity. They bothered him so much at that time, and then as he learned to accept them and live with them, he was wrenched from it all and thrown back into the memories of the horrors and hell he single-handedly created, the deaths that were issued from his own command, the thrill and bravado in young men’s eyes as they aspired to be in the mere presence of him. He was a monster and the desire to have that all erased again was filling him so intensely now.

"What's wrong Dante?" Breanna asked as she lifted herself up to hold him. This troubled look was nothing like she had seen on him before, even when he fought with whom he was and whether or not he would ever walk again.

Dante remained silent, but looked into Breanna's eyes, staring intently into the love behind them. If only he could reach out and grasp that right now, but his life was filled with a void, an emptiness as he struggled to put the pieces of his broken life together....a life that was coming back in dire memories that he instantly wished to be gone.

"Oh Dante....." Breanna cried as she clasped him tightly, realizing what was going on inside of his mind, that he was contemplating his own life and death.

A silent moment stole time as they embraced, Dante holding her tightly as if holding her would erase his terrible fate while Breanna tried to hold him together, fearing he would quite literally fall to pieces if she let him go.

When the moment passed, Breanna pulled away to look at him, Dante still holding his arms around her. His eyes were filled with such intense emotion, emotion she had never seen in him before....he was a man so deep that peeling away the layers of him only revealed a nexus of complexity.

He looked into her, trying his best to preserve this moment so that when his final breath came this was all he would remember and see. The words fell from his mouth, spoken from somewhere so deep within that they were almost lost before coming out of his mouth, "I love you," the faint whisper crept forth.

"Dante...." she struggled to keep her voice from cracking, issuing forth a sea of tears. "I'll never forget you," she whispered back, kissing him and holding him tightly, knowing this was all she would get out of him.

He held her tightly, kissing her back, embracing the moment that only naturally fell into a tender moment of passion as their bodies spoke the unspoken words between them.

And hour after their moment of passion, they both remained in bed holding each other, transfixed in the other, knowing within themselves that this was their last moment together. The moment, in all its perfection, was all too predictably destroyed by the sound of the door opening, closing, and locking. Instantly, without looking, both knew who had come through that door by the steely silence that emanated....it was as if this man were a vacuum consuming all happiness into his black hole of nothingness. His step was firm and grounded; he was a person of clear authority, as he walked toward them.

Breanna clutched him tightly, knowing that their moment was now over, but before she could look up to see who had entered the room, she fell limply into Dante arms.

Dante stared coldly at the man before him, the rage that flared beneath him beginning to rise despite the tender moment before. He would have hated Code Six more then ever if he did not know that Code Six had inadvertently spared Breanna's life by slipping her into that world of unconsciousness.

"It's time Dante," Code Six's cold emotionless voice sounded as he turned away from Dante. He walked to an old but ornate cabinet sitting on the opposite side of the room. He opened the door and removed a pair of uniforms that were neatly placed inside, not a wrinkle or speck of dust covering them.

Code Six helped Dante to his feet as Dante looked at himself in the full length mirrors that were strategically place inside the cabinet. A bandage wrapped itself around his chest, protecting the surgical wounds that were designed to save his life. The scars from his past still peaked out under the bandages, wrapping around his body to show proof and reminders of the horrible life he once lived. Some were old, some more recent, but all accompanied by a story that told of Dante's legacy. He felt the wound above his groin, the one that nearly removed his manhood, as a flash of his past filled him, the images of that dark corridor, that little girl who was his daughter, the fear, and the gunshot that came from his mistress....a shot intended to kill him if it were not for Der Fuhrer Dyszel, his sworn enemy who saved him. His hand trailed up to the hole in his abdomen, a memory of a night that he remembered the ties he had with Queen Surukai before the war, the wound a questionable accident....if he could only remember if that gunshot was intentional. The hidden truth lay in his skull though as he reached up to touch the hole of his intended death, the gunshot that was issued as a mercy killing by a once dear friend. No scar marked the bullet's entry and none its departure, it fired so cleanly through his skull and left him virtually unmarked with the exception of failed memories, the only side effect that he suffered from this should have been fatal wound. He could feel the once shattered skull beneath his finger....it had long since healed with the help of a metal plate, and now remained healed bones that still bore the cracks of where the bone had once shattered. Now only he could know of that wound, as it was the only injury he suffered that left no visible marks.

He sighed, letting out a deep breath, before beginning to slip into the uniform laid out for him. Code Six, spaces away, was also dressing, preparing for their grand appearance. He felt a twinge of pain as he twisted, and made a mental note that twisting would need to be avoided....remembering briefly how he reopened his wound trying to break free from this hell.

Bits and pieces of memories continued to fill his memory as familiar objects presented themselves to him....gloves reminded him of Mathias, the eagle with its Molotav cocktail of The Reich Freedom Fighters, his only weapon reminded him of Der Fuhrer Dyszel. Surfacing through those memories appeared a little girl huddled in a corner terrified of him, a girl he named Genocide. Memories of a gunshot and the splatter of brain and blood onto his face, as the twisted grin he harbored spread across his face. Moments in captivity where he counted his every heart beat to pass the time and ease his curiosity. The conversation with Mathias in their own blood on the cell walls that he had designed. The blood of enemies rushing over his hands as he plunged blade or knife into them, especially that of Mathias who he carelessly watched suffer as he drowned in his own blood. Products of the man he was....the horrible and devastation he reined on innocent people. And then there was Breanna's love, and it washed all that away. She loved him despite his past, despite knowing that saving him could end up destroying her.

He finished dressing, taking care not to over exert himself and reopen the wounds. Walking over to the bed, he gently ran his fingers through Breanna's hair, tucking it behind her ear as he readjusted her body for comfort. "Goodbye," he whispered in her ear, kissing her gently as he turned away, walking out of the room, stately, poised, resuming his old command and authority with Code Six at his side.

Ralph had noticed the athletic figure standing in the doorway. He stood to acknowledge the woman. As did his two staff members. Ralph resumed his seat when much to his surprise, a jacket flew past him. Arthur had resumed sleeping while Robert remained standing. His eyes remained transfixed on the foreign figure.

"Robert, sit!"
"Eh? Oh."

He pulled the chair back into his posture and leaned onto one arm. He resumed his gawking. Pulling a slender cigar out of his breast coat pocket, he stuck it in between his clenched jaw and lit it. Blowing a few satisfied puffs from it, he replaced his lighter and sat back. It was going to be an interesting meeting Robert now figured.

5200 feet above Elbonia
Sir Leigh lay in his reclined chair. His seatbuckle was clicked over his belly and he began to snore. The snifter of brandy was on its side and the newspaper lay on his chest. He almost had the appearance of a homeless person if it were not for the luxurious surroundings and his hand tailored suit. There was still an hour and fifteen before they would be in Whitecastle.

Somewhere on the Streets of Whitecastle

"So, what do you want to know about my whereabouts last night?" the senior GSS Special Agent asked back as Whitecastle's guards were casually questioning them as they walked in the streets. The other three guards just walked along in silence, listening to the conversation. "Well, after we removed Nos from Alex's room, as he broke into his room, we were assigned to stand guard over his room for the rest of the night. Alex then asked us to take him to dinner, which we did, and brought him back to his room, where we thought he slept for the night, until his disappearance. Is there anything else you want to know?

Diplomats Quarters' Hotel, Ambassador’s Lounge, Whitecastle

Alec Trevelyan slowly came down the stairs and into the ambassador’s lounge, outside the summit hall. He noticed Dmitriy just sat down in the table in the open Summit Hall where Govindia's delegation was supposed to sit. He also noticed that not only General Tresckow was there, but Alex as well. God damn, he thought, About fucking time he showed up. I swear to God I hope his ass has a good explanation for how he disappeared other than just going out for a casual goddamn fucking swim. . He felt his mouth near where the two teeth once were. It was mostly healed now, and the bleeding had stopped, but it was still a little painful.

"Hello there, Mr. President."

Alec turned, surprised and saw Rajay, with new clothes on. "<Thank God!>" he exclaimed in Russian, embracing him. "What the hell happened to you?"

Rajay sighed. "<That woman....impersonated a Reich official somehow,>" he replied back in Russian. "<She was really vague on who she was but she was adamantly insisting that freedom would come to her people. I should have kept my guard up, especially against sly women like her. Forgive me, sir.>" He bowed and shook his head.

"<Rajay, don't worry about it>," Alec said, putting a hand on Rajay's shoulder. "<People, especially women, can be tricky in this line of work. Every male I've known has fallen prey to such females at some point, but as long as they learned from their mistakes, they improved their defences. So should you.>" He smiled then took a good look at him. "<Where'd you get this nice suit?>"

“<Oh, well after Whitecastle’s guards somehow found me,>” Rajay replied, “<they detained that woman for interrogation and took me back here in a separate car and gave me this slick suede suit.>” He pondered for a bit. “<Interesting really, how they managed to track me down to the exact room I was in– >”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alec said in English. “The sample finally came in handy in this case. Go to the summit hall. I’ll catch up with you momentarily.”

Rajay nodded and went into the summit hall, with a portion of the GSS guards following. Alec went over to a side desk with two sheets of paper and, taking out a pen, began to write as fast as he could.

The first one was to the head of Whitecastle’s security:


To the General of Whitecastle’s Security Forces:

I would like to dearly apologise for the altercation we had. It seems we both have different interpretations on honour. Where I come from honour is valued highly, and in professional circles not looking at someone is a sign of distrust and disrespect. Evidently that is not the same here in Whitecastle.

Our nation, like yours, has in a sense seen its dark times through war, as well as betrayals and such. I suppose that in my old age I have become a bit too proud and stubborn. Nonetheless I should not have assumed your customs are the same as Govindia’s or Marionetsvia’s and you have my sincerest apologies sir.

On a different note, I thank you and your men for helping to apprehend the woman who kidnapped my Defence Minister, and was able to bring back Rajay safely. As she tried to impersonate a Reich official, I would like to have her handed over to The Reich’s guards, since she has committed a crime against The Reich by impersonating an official in order to capture Rajay for her own purposes.

In any event, I do apologise for our altercation earlier, and I hope we can look past this to concentrate on greater things at hand.

Sincerely,
/s/Alec Trevelyan/s/
Alec Trevelyan, President
Republic of Govindia

The second letter was to General Tresckow:


Dear General Tresckow,

Whitecastle’s security forces found Rajay and took care of the woman who kidnapped him. Right now it seems they are in Whitecastle’s custody but I have contacted the head of Whitecastle’s security forces and requested that they transfer her to your country’s guards. If she is to be tried, Govindia will support whatever punishment will be deemed reasonable.

I would like to thank you for you efforts to help me in this matter and in the altercation I had with their General. I guess I get more stubborn with my age, eh?

I do not wish your nation to be ruined from this summit, but I do not know what the outcome of this summit will be. Only time and God will tell. All I can encourage you to do is to be strong and have faith.

I thank you once again, for your efforts.

Sincerely,
/s/Alec Trevelyan/s/
Alec Trevelyan, President
Republic of Govindia

He folded up both letters and, taking out a special seal marker, affixed the Republic Seal on both letters and gave them to a nearby courier, requesting that these be hand-delivered personally to the appropriate people.

With the rest of the GSS detail following, Alec entered the Summit Hall and sat next to Dmitriy and Rajay were sitting. They were looking at a binder on the table filled with information. He noticed several mysteriously cloaked people, and some others whom he had not met. “Ladies and Gentleman,” he spoke to those present. “Alex, General Tresckow, Azzan, good morning.” He smiled and sat down. The same black binder was in front of him, affixed with a seal. As he opened it, he noticed Nos there, bruised and battered. Turning back to breaking the seal, he began reading through the material. “Good morning, Nos,” Alec said coldly whilst perusing through the material.

“<There’s a lot of information here,>” Dmitriy whispered in Hindi to Alec and Rajay.
“<Read it carefully and quickly, and remember as much as you can,>” whispered Rajay back while Alec merely nodded in agreement.

Such a wealth of information they had not been prepared for. Then again, this summit, and the people involved, were very important that even Govindia by comparison seemed miniscule. Protectorate or not, Marionetsvia is with powerhouses by and far in this region, represented by the Govindian delegation. Alec rubbed the side of his mouth a bit. The altercation already showed that, for all intents and purposes, the superpower status he has in his home region, means nothing here.

Arriving right before the closing of the doors with the last of the summit's attendents, Autumn walked into the summit conference room, clad in a black uniform with white decorations. The only insignia she wore were a small golden pin of a heart and pin of teddy bear made out of small beads. She promptly took her seat at the head of the table and looked down among the seats.

She did not say a word, but merely watched in silence until the doors were closed and the guards began collecting the folders. The sound of the doors thudding shut brough a mischevious smile to her face, as if she contained some dark secret that was now about to be revealed.

"Hello everyone. We will begin by introducing ourselves and briefly discuss why we are here and what we hope to acheive. For those that do not know, I am Autumn. I have heard some people here like specific titles so I shall state that we do not organize under titles. If you must know my position, I was that commander of the rebel force that went against Whitecastle which you should have read about during the history of the Whitecastle front. If you must know more, I act as second commander to The Elite Forces," she spoke with a professional voice as her eyes carefully scanned everyone.

Leaning forward slightly, she rested her elbows on the desk, "but most importantly, I am the mother of Genocide, which you know as the child who recently declared war against both The Reich and The Elite Empire. I am here to oversee the summit and I hope that this summit goes by bloodlessly."

After letting those words sink in for a moment, she looked to Alex, "now let us proceed with you and so forth."

Alex met her eyes with a quiet reserve as if little she had said made much of an impact. "I am Alex Ruhumunah, son of Atticus Ruhumunah, and the last remaining heir to the Ruhumunah family."

Alex turned to the next person in line, one of the cloaked figures, indicating that he was finished his piece.

Removing the cloak, the blonde haired woman smile, her curly locks falling in front of her face. "Hello my friends," she spoke softly, "I am Lady Lux, heiress of The Reich, Daughter of The Reich, one of The Seven, First Generation. I am here to speak on behalf of The Reich and peace of our region being an avid pacifist."

"My Lady," Tresckow spoke out, bowing his head in respect, being one of the few who seemed to know what any of her introduction had meant.

When she caught the vacant stares in other's eye, she simply smiled again, "I was Dictator during the Nye and Perry campaign."

She turned her head to Nos, who let that sardonic grin spread across his face. "I think we have all met at one time or another. I am Noskalenaeuroph under contract of The Reich. For those who think that I am an asshole here to assassin someone, you will be glad to know that I am only here because it was evacuate Konigsreich or die. Mathias had it purged. The only way out was the helicopter coming here. I don't care what happens at this summit because I'm a contract killer....I won't be out of a job even if you come to some sort of peace treaty. Your turn," he said to the cloaked person next to him, noticing that Autumn laughed silently to herself with his comment....at least she was a realist.

The cloaked figure removed his hood to reveal a sickly looking body, "My name is Lex. Please don't," he whispered as he avoided the stares of other, "yes, I'm the survivor. Yes, I resorted to cannablism to survive. Yes, the rumors are true. But those were my men out there and I live with disgust. If the information I carry wasn't so important to get to you all, I would not have resorted to such dishonors. Please, I beg you, do not make me recall those times and do not look at me like that. I am here because it would dishonor me further to have done what I did in vain. The information I have to reveal is necessary for The Reich," he spoke quietly, his voice trembling as if on the verge of breaking.

The room filled with silence for a moment, no one saying anything, hoping that one of the Govindian representives would take his cue to start introducing himself.

After perusing the exhaustive material and hearing the introductions, Alec saw it was their turn in line. He stood up. "Well then," he said slightly bowing to everyone in respect, "Good morning ladies and gentleman. I am Alec Trevelyan, President of Govindia and her Protectorate, Marionetsvia."

As he sat back down, Dmitriy got up. "I am Dmitriy Aleksandreyevich Popov, Govindian Minister of External Affairs," he said. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance everyone." Rajay stood up as Dmitriy sat back down. "Rajay Vishnu Dhaupal, Govindian Defence Minister," he said with humility, also bowing slightly like Alec and Dmitriy did. "May this summit be a successful and peaceful one." He sat back down and waited for the next set of introductions.

Following Autumn inside just before the doors closed, Erzsebet made her way to her seat. She hadn't changed since breakfast, as there was no need. She had already been in a blue dress, as was customary for someone representing Callisdrun in an official capacity abroad. All she had needed to do was re-brush her long black hair, which hadn't taken much time. Her reason for her late entrance? Quite odd really; on her way to the conference room, she had become absorbed in her own thoughts and had passed the conference room and ended up in a completely different area of the building. The vampiress was quite embarrassed, though she tried not to show it. Sitting down next to Azzan, she tore the seal on her packet of documents with one fang (she kept her nails trimmed short, despite their hardness and sharpness) and skimmed through them, in no particular order.

As it was her turn, she stood, gracefully, and said "I am Erzsebet of the Sorvik clan, an Admiral in the Callisdrunian navy and my nation's representative in Reich matters." Her sleeveless dress revealed all the tattoos that had been scribed on the pale skin of her arms. On the right, the Sorvik clan banner and a hammer and sickle, on the left, thorned vines that started about at the transition from chest and back to shoulder and snaked down all the way to her wrist and the back of her pale hand.

Noting that everyone had probably seen her long fangs as she spoke, she added, while regarding them all in turn with her emerald eyes, so intense they almost seemed to glow, "Yes, I am a vampiress, I need to drink human blood in order to survive. No, I probably will not be attacking any of you for your blood, we only feed consensually, except in battle." With that, she sat down again. Still, despite her reassurances, some might still find reason to be afraid, owing to the fierceness in her gaze. There was something indeed that was altogether not quite tame, still belonging to the wild about her and her kind in general.

Azzan listened to every person speak, memorizing each face, looking for signs of deceit in their manner. As the time came for him to introduce itself, Azzan tapped his pen on the table and took a long look around the room before finally rising, straightening his posture, he black locks falling behind him and his thin frames of his glasses flashed against the light. He spoke in a well paced manner, and kept his eyes stoic, "My name is Azzan Medici, I am the potentate of Anceltierre for Medicine and Nano-Biology. I have come in the interest of not only my own nation- but in the interest of all of mankind... and I think you will all be interested." He allowed himself to smile somewhat as he sat, content he had grabbed some sort of attention.

Scrambling through the hallway of the Summit building, Sir Leigh, desperately tried to fix his tie and shovel papers into his attache case. He slunk his way through the doors and took a seat next to Ralph. Ralph sat staring and gawking at Sir Leigh who was sweating and panting for breath. Arthur and Robert also leaned forward to see their superior sweating and gasping for air. Sir Leigh wiped his head with his handkerchief and stood up. He cleared his throat and began to address the table.

"Fellow delegates, please excuse my, well, hastily put together appearance. I had arrived only moments before. So I shall introduce myself. I am Sir Leigh Baxter. I am the Reich's United Nations' delegate. You sometimes see me on the Telemonitor in New York. I am a chancellor emeritus at UPA and I have been a diplomatic official for the past 32 years. Gentlemen and Ladies, I hope here today that we can resolve whatever is at hand to the greatest extent and prevent any other such *cough* incidents in the future. Thank you."

Sir Leigh sat and poked Ralph in the ribs and he stood up very quickly. "My name is Ralph. And I like..." Another kick to the knees. "I mean. My-my name is Ralph Laird. I am the Aide de Camp of Sir Leigh. In his absence, I serve as an official and I suppose in this situation, erhm.. well. I uh. I wish you all luck. and yeah." He sat quickly and flushed red. Robert Bollanger introduced himself quickly as the translator for the PDS delegates and Arthur Millencamp briefly stated that he was also an official diplomatic assistant.

Sir Leigh stood again. "I stand here before you all. One more time, a humble and unarmed man. Forgive my bumbling ADC and like in the UN. We shall win victories with our words." He sat down in his seat again, picked up his attache case, pulled out an earthenware bottle of Bols gin and a glass and poured himself a drink.

The introductions continued across the table and Tresckow soon found himself next in line. Nodding his head, he looked among all present. His voice was firm and official, but nonetheless respectful, "I am Major General Henning von Tresckow of The Supreme Council, or as The Reich has come to know as The Traitor. I have indeed commited a treacherous act against The Reich, but only with the intent of saving it. I come to speak on behalf of The Supreme Council, embodying the voice of Der Fuhrer Dyszel who regretfully could not attend this summit. I hope that we could make some past amends and move forward as a single unit against bigger problems that we face."

Tresckow turned toward one of the cloaked figures, it was one of three, the last remaining individuals for introductions. The figure, with gloved hands, the one who did not read the reports, turned its gaze toward Autumn as if staring intently into her eyes. It's voice was solid, cold, very punctual and clear, "we forfeit our introductions. You need not know us. We are here to observe and contribute where needed. We represent The Original Reich, members of our relic past, which few here can appreciate. We also are here to see that conduct on behalf of The Reich is done forth in a manner befitting The Reich. We will denounce any nonReich proposals or actions."

Autumn looked amused, as if reading the mind of the cloaked figure. "Fair enough," she said. "Now let us begin with the real issues. Would anyone like to present a topic to the table first or have any questions that they feel the need to have answered before we begin with the pressing issues?"

"Are we to assume this is a free speaking summit?" Tresckow asked.

"Yes," Autumn answered directly, "Anyone else?"

"The Govindian delegation has no questions at this time and looks forward to a summit that will be productive," Alec responded.

Alec saw the emotions running high amongst the cloaked members, Autumn, and the General. Though kept well hidden and civil. Whatever was going to happen at this summit, at this surrender, someone was going to pay a price, and everyone was going to swallow their pride. The Reich will certainly not be the same. Alec hoped that whatever came out of it, the fallout would be minimised.

Azzan remained silent, his annoyance flared as his patience was tested by the useless babble of the Govindian, if he didn't have any questions he should have kept his mouth shut. Azzan simply shook his head in answer and braced himself for the next interuption that'd inevitably delay the unveiling of the miracles...for once Azzan was excited about something.

After noticing no one else was speaking Azzan coughed softly to bring some attention to himself, he stood quietly as he looked to each side of the room. "As I have previously mentioned, my interest in this summit goes beyond any interest made by my country alone. I have come bearing the Olympian Fire of Medicine- My country has developed miracles in a bottle, something that will change the face of the medical world for all time hence forth." Azzan took another slow look around the room, watching for the physical responses from the assembly; he adjusted the frames of his glasses so that light flashed upon them. "We have created small nano machines that are capable of turning a man and all his frailities into man without fear of disease, chemical or biological threats, and certainly no fear of living with injuries. It will allow doctors to know instantly what is ailing you and how to correct it, they will allow doctors to treat disease without causing harm to the rest of the body, it will allow for doctors to be able to rebuild parts of a body never before dreamed about." He took a small breath, "It can change a barren woman into a fertile one, it can make a heart new and strong, it will change everything..." He smiled, "This is what I have brought to the table, I ask nothing of any of your respective nations except the chance to distribute the small miracles to your medical centers with trained personnel to begin the dissemination among your populaces- you will not regret it, for once something is truly free."

Azzan didn't retake his seat but instead focused on Lux, the mysterious woman who everyone believed to had died a long while ago- who had been killed... "I believe Lux may already know something of the advances that I have mentioned... afterall, her being alive isn't obviously expected at this table"

Dmitriy perked up. This was rather interesting to hear. "Are there any medical side effects to this new technology? " he asked. "I hope this miracle, if it really is, will not be an...expensive one. This will truly be something that could be really a breakthrough if it is as powerful as you state, Potentate."

"He just mentioned that it is free," the vampiress whispered to the Govindian, her voice coming mostly as a hiss. She looked back to Azzan, interested as before in this technology. He'd spoken briefly to her at breakfast about the concept, but it still seemed hard for her to believe. Such technology would not help most of her kind, they hardly seemed to age, simply losing their hair color and getting a bit wrinkled as time wore on but otherwise hardly being diminished in strength, shape and health at all. At a certain point, usually without that much warning besides gradually getting more easily tired, their bodies simply stopped working altogether and they died. To this day it wasn't certain why, it was as if their organs, remaining strong throughout their lives, simply all gave up at once.

For her non-moroii comrades, though, such technology might do wonders. Though many diseases had been cured, including dreaded HIV/AIDS (it still existed, but was reversible, though only through a highly invasive, arduous and costly, to the state, not the patient, process). Many ailments still remained though, and even ones that had been cured could possibly be treated much more cheaply.

And of course, Erzsebet had a personal reason for her interest. The destruction of her uterus in that turret explosion a decade ago had robbed her of the future she'd planned for herself. Could she dare hope that this might give her a chance to have that life?

Thinking of which, her gaze drifted to Lady Lux. Isn't she dead? the Callisdrunian wondered. What happened there?

Lux turned a smile toward Azzan that melted into a look of horror, "I have no idea what you are talking about," she spoke softly, her voice drowned out by the mere breathing of everyone.

At the mention of Lux, several people turned towards her, staring in disbelief and shock. Her pale flesh flushed red, as she looked around nervously, "but I.... I have no idea what you are talking about? I..." she found herself at a loss of words as eyes burrowed into her.

Autumn smiled in wry amusement, something about the discomfort that was brewing in this room appealed to her, or perhaps it was something else, something only she thought amusing.

The room continued to stare at Lux, who began to feel faint, and slid in her chair, as if to avoid the stares. "I am not dead. I am right here. What are you talking about?" But she knew the rumors, knew the stories, knew what happened....she was briefed upon return to Konigsreich der Mathias. None of it could be summed up as mere coincidence or a misunderstanding, her death was confirmed, she had merely forgotten this.

"Please. You don't understand. I don't quite understand.....it's an accident...I don't know what you are talking about....I can't explain it...." she began to grow desperate, until a harsh voice cut her off.

"Yeah. Haven't we all died once?" spoke the voice behind a hood. "It's almost a Reich initiation.....you must die before you can become a Reich Official. Yadda yadda. So your technology Azzan....why would we in The Reich want it?"

Azzan smirked, "Because if you don't, your people will be vulnerable. If you don't, your military will soon a be an example of past mistakes of militaries that failed to move forward when given the opportunity... I'm offering the fruit of wishes made for generations of struggling men and women... centuries of progress have come to this point, and I simply offer it to all the world, to sell it would be a defacement of the struggles people have gone through to arrive to this doorway of the future." He smiled at the way he managed to make this sacrifice of probably trillions in monetary gain in favor of moving the world forward sound like a a grand and noble deed when it was simply something natural for him to do. Azzan then turned to Lux, "Ofcourse you're not dead, you're obviously quite alive and looking like you're going to continue being a beauty for some time to come... my question is how?"

The hooded figure stared at him a long time in a moment of silence, where the tensions in the room seemed to brew further. "Tell me about your government," the figure asked, an intense moment of scrutiny as the hooded figure leaned forward intent on listening closely.

Lux in the mean time breathed a sigh of relief that this figure had taken the attention off of her....the looks people gave her, no wonder Lex was so nervous about coming to the summit. She felt a warm hand touch her's and quickly turned to see that it was Alex, providing a reassuring comfort to her. She managed to smile, he seemed almost too young to be here, yet she knew his youthful appearence masked years of intense training and personal loss.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him, and he nodded politely before turning to pour a glass of liquid she could not identify. He handed the glass to her and turned back to the notes he had taken. She could tell he took this summit very seriously, but why? What purpose was the son of Atticus at this summit?

She sipped the strange liquid, surprised by its sweet and refreshing taste. It was as if she were drinking water but it did not taste at all like water or enhanced water; it was something natural, but what? Surely something straight out of Whitecastle, she told herself, and smiled to her thoughts that of course Alex of all people would be well versed in Whitecastle delicacies.

Her thoughts seemed to focus on one thought, what had happened? She was told to meet someone late at night concerning official Reich business. Of course, this seemed suspicious, but she went to identify the cause behind her unease. Her last memory was standing on a street at The Balcony that overlooked the ocean and then she remembered sleeping in a ruined bit of house next to a fire. What had happened? For too long she wanted to know, but she was afraid to know the truth.....was she even human anymore? Was this her? Was she her mind in another body? How? Why? Questions she doubted would ever be answered, too many questions and a lifetime of answers.

Her face fell dejected as she submerged deep in thoughts.....all she ever wanted was peace for her friends and family.

Azzan left his question go unanswered as he refocused on the inqueries of the hooded figure, "The government of Anceltierre is a collection of field specific potentates, these seats are earned through proving oneself as superior to all others in the field in both knowledge and drive. The potentates form a group that collectively decides on the governmental issues facing the country, the people too have 5 representatives to balance the council with those representing the will of the public." Azzan looked directly through the hood as if making eye contact, "We do not tolerate substandard work from the government, as our people do not tolerate substandard work from themselves- we are what we earn, not our names or connections." Azzan slightly frowned, "I would have thought someone like yourself would have means to ascertain that information, so that you'd need not have asked..."

"I am merely trying to understand what gain you accomplish by freely lending the service of your technology to our region. Countless amounts of money have been poured into each technology we have produced, moreso for the ones we have distributed throughout The Reich. Red Queen maintaince alone is beyond comparision financially. Most of our funding is placed into armed forces and technology, it is why we are the highest sector of both. Needless to say, we make this investment because it offers us control over our population. What gain are you reaping from this technology is what I would like to know?" the voice narrowed, becoming more direct and to the point, wasting no time in beating around the bush.

After a moment of silence in which the figure gave Azzan time to think, it spoke again, almost cutting, "and who is to say we do not utilize the flaws of our humanity and embrace them? Say population control? Do we really want humanity living forever, mass producing, wasting away precious resources so that they may live a comfortable life and die at ripe ages over 100? Disease and decay keep us from wasting away what little is left of this world. It has also helped us value far more important aspects of life that science cannot appreciate. Unless of course you are proposing we begin seeking a life outside of this infested planet? Or perhaps you merely do come in good spirits to offer a reprieve from the inevitable, to live a life free of disease and destruction? But how do you benefit from this? Understanding? Do you know the potential side effects of this technology? Can you predict if it will hasten the flow of destruction in the long term? After all, the longer more healthier lives we live, the most we produce, the less we fear, the more dangerous we become. Crime will skyrocket from impulsivity and careless invincibility. I would rather see my brothers and sister die by the hands of a disease then the hands of their fellow people."

Again, the hooded figure allowed its words to be adequately thought out by all, but this time it remained silent, contently waiting for a response. Of course Azzan was put on the spotlight, new technology that was not under The Reich's control was always scrutinized, it was one of the reasons Dante and his Elite Empire became so infamous in the first place.

Azzan let his a smile show a feral look of enjoyment, a sparring match would do well to get his own blood pumping. "The only benefit I gain is a legacy in the human memory, call it whatever you may but if I could I would give up all rights to the science behind the devices- I was not alone in creating them afterall, but it's already too late to remove my name from their creation." Azzan adjusted his glasses, "The side effects of longer life spans can be avoided if only we educate the public on the dangers of over population, and their own ability to work longer in their own life spans." Azzan chuckled, "Our dear Tresckow may well be in the prime of life if he had been given the miracles in his infancy."

Azzan went on as he shifted his glasses, "Your fears of crime are unfounded as those on the other side of the law combating these criminals will have the same advantages- infact, there is a failsafe for these devices, the can be deactivated with a signal specific to the identity of their host. Felons and criminals not only have the punishment given to them by the law, but a significant loss of their life spans." Azzan coughed lightly, "So I did think this through before opening a potential pandora's box, and as of yet the only misery to escape has been the one that is my sadness in knowing my job remains unfinished as there are so many that have yet to push past their own barriers. The Future has already begun, Anceltierre has moved forward with it" He addressed the assembly as a whole, "Will the rest of you join us in this new era or reject a gift given in all sincerity?"

The hooded figure spoke again, still intently watching Azzan, "thank you. That is all." It fell silent and turned to face its peers again, not a flinch, not a falter of movement, just a smooth gliding motion elegant in its grace as if it waited a life time to perfect that simple movement.

Autumn again smiled darkly and laughed, "why that was magnificent! What do you all have to say about this?"

Alex stared blankly for a moment, looking from his notes to Tresckow to the hooded figures and to Autumn. He could not imagine that the summit would detail discussions such as this. Was it even within his abilities to accept a technology for the better of The Reich? Afterall, he was merely speaking for The Reich in terms of surrender.

Reforming his thoughts, he compiled a mental replay of the conversation that Azzan and the hooded figure had just finished, and that was when it had dawned on him....seperation. He could have scolded himself for being so blind, but it all made sense now. Different schools of thought have overtook The Reich and this summit was organized not for peace but to seperate them. Is that was Der Fuhrer Dyszel had in mind? Did Tresckow also know this? He was sitting so silently, allowing the discussions to unfold without interference, but it did not seem as if he were hiding secret knowledge. Autumn though.....she kept darkly grinning at them, as if she knew a secret they did not. Perhaps she knew this? But how?

Alex sat back in his seat and lifted his head, resting his hands on the table. He briefly glanced about the room, as if preparing to speak, but a thought struck him....which side was he to take? He fell silent again, drawing back into this thoughts. He needed more information before he could make any sort of announcement.....if only he could just convene with Tresckow for a moment and find out what he knew about this situation....

Alec looked around the room nervously. Rajay seemed unsure what to say, from his expression, so he looked to Dmitriy, who looked to Alec. He just nodded at both of them, as if they were seeking his permission to speak. They should know they are supposed to be independent ministers and be capable of speaking for themselves.

Rajay spoke up. "I am sure this technology seems promising," he said in a voice that was initially signalling hesitance but became more confident with each word. "However, every aspect of technology will have its side effects. I am sure we would like to how what the side affects could be, aside from the failsafes you have described. How can we guarantee it won't react negatively to some people depending on their physical condition and body type, etcetera?"

Dmitriy spoke up. "I believe my colleague is trying to express his apprehension that while you may be offering it freely to us, there may be some kind of price we have to pay, a catch, if you will." This technology seemed suspicious. No one had seen it tested for sure, and no one really knew what the sardonically grinning Autumn or the Potentate was really hiding.

"Do you think I would have risked my peoples lives on something that hadn't been tested for all circumstances? Do you take me for a fool?" Azzan coldly spoke in the Govindian's direction, but never looked at him, "The miracles are now active across all of Anceltierre, across all peoples who'd accept them into their body- we will not force people to walk through the door, we are just saddened they will not come with us in this step forward." Azzan continued, his breathing remaining smooth and even- "There are no catches, no complications, only that you be willing to accept a helping hand."

The hooded figure turned toward the Govindian representatives and stared for a long time before lifting two fingers into the air again. The figure continued to stare, even as a guard stepped up to it and it whispered something so quiet in his ear that no one could over hear what the figure had said. The guard nodded and took a few steps back, waiting patiently behind the chair of this hooded figure.

Again, the hooded figure just continued staring at the representatives, saying nothing and indicating nothing but silent observation.

While she, too was cautious, Erzsebet could not help being optimistic about the oddly named "miracles," due to her hope that with such medical technology, the broken aspect of her body could be repaired. Perhaps it was a slim hope, but there was a chance, and that is all that is required for the unpredictable manifestations of hope. Surprising as it might be to most, motherhood was what this vampiress had dreamed and been denied of, through a chance accident.

"Representing Callisdrun, I can say that without a doubt we would be interested in such a technology," she spoke up. "While my kind, the moroii, tend not to be afflicted with disease, the possibilities for our countrymen and women, who do suffer much more from the pains of illness, are quite enticing, as well as the capabilities to heal grievous wounds." Addressing Azzan directly then, she added "I know it may seem insulting for your offer of such a wondrous thing to be met with such skepticism, but it is only the result of our being products of a world that is often cynical. That is why a catch has been suspected."

Sir Leigh had been silently listening to all the new proposals that were coming up. Every detail in their proposals and he noted everyones interests. His eyebrows furrowed beneath the browline of his old glasses. The Govindians seemed all too interested in the micro biological repair robots. He raised his hand as a gesture to take the floor. To Sir Leigh, this was all pages out of Robert's Rules.

"Gentlemen, and the ladies of this summit. I find that working with the rest of the UN, there is much bickering and very little working sometimes. But please, I do implore you all. Time is of the essence. Now I have witnessed what has happened here so far. The nano technology will certainly be a great relief to the Reich as well as the UN, permitted of course. But what I am finding is what can we do to stop this fighting. In the region's, Popeleoma Del Signe's as well as the United Nations' best interests. This war has gone on far long enough. What we may do here today, may not resolve anything. But it must bring us one step into progress of what I should hope, a declining chapter in all of our histories." He sat again and leaned over to Ralph and muttered several words. Ralph in turn did the same to Arthur then to Robert. They both nodded to a nonvisible conversation and filed through the information folders.

Sir Leigh removed his glasses and placed them on the table his brows furrowed again and he replaced them on his nose. Ralph showed every sign of boredom. His eyes seemed to have glazed over. He didn't seem too into the meeting at all. "My..." he thought, "There's hardly any windows in this room. But there's a drinks cabinet." His eyes traced over the handsomely carved cabinet. He rose to pour himself something that would distract him for the next few minutes at least. There were only bottles of ReichFin. His least favorite of all Government surplus alcohols. He sat again and resumed staring. He remained transfixed on one empty chair. It seemed to dominate the room. Its brass tacks seemed like rivets on steel and the leather looked certainly different from his chair. He thought, "Who isn't here. Who could possibly show up at a time like this. At least someone entering will draw my mind to something."

Azzan spoke to the vampiress with a certain renewed interest, "Yes, I do realize why some would be incredulous to this offer... infact I don't blame them for suspecting this as a play for power or other such base intent as I would be suspecting the same motives if I were in their positions." Azzan smiled softly to belay his kind words that came next, "I am glad that you of all can see that I carry no such ploy. I'm sure your people will remember how it was their leaders that first embraced this technology and be thankful for the chance at improved lives you'll be giving them-" Azzan paused in thought, it wouldn't be too far a stretch to make the nano devices adapted to Morii to help in the most grave of injuries, he was somewhat sure in the fact that it could happen occassionally that a Vampire was wounded as such, "-and yourselves."

Lux sighed to herself, realizing what she had to do. She looked to Azzan, nervousness filling her, but she stifled that for the best of The Reich. It was similiar to being on the battle field again, the bloody screams of men and women, death, and destruction....and it was up to her to keep her mind clear, to cease fire.

"Azzan, do you have a sample of your nanotechnology with you right now? I think many fears will be alleviated if we can see a sample," she spoke quietly and softly, her voice again melting into the air.


The guards stepped up behind the hooded figure again and poured a glass of amber colored fluid into an empty glass before it. The hooded figure nodded and took a sip and finally turned its attention away from the Govindian representatives toward Lux.

Looking towards Lady Lux, Erzsebet nodded. "I agree," she said softly. "An example or a demonstration would do much to ease our fellow delegates' minds on the issue, having grown accustomed to dirty tricks nations play on one another." The vampiress sighed. How often do nations act out of honest good will? she thought within her mind, saddened by the long history of vile national and international manipulations that seemed to go back as far as history, or even further. There wasn't a precise answer, but she knew that whatever it was, it was not nearly often enough.

Her gaze seemed to drift to the cloaked figures, specifically the ones who had not yet revealed themselves. Curiosity is part of human nature, so Erzsebet couldn't help wondering as to their identities, and what they would have to say, when the matter turned to the actual surrender. Thinking of such, she felt the need to add another remark. "If this technology is what our colleague has stated that it is, which is my firm hope, it will be of great use in relief efforts. As I've said, Callisdrun would be interested in taking up the offer, once we know more about the technology." If Callisdrun even still exists as a nation after this, we are surrendering after all... she thought suddenly. Though she was doing her best to put up a cool, calm, collected appearance, if one was paying attention, one could practically read this thought from the sudden look of alarm on her face, an expression she quickly changed, choosing to glance around to hide her momentary falter. Her eyes continued to come to rest on an empty chair. Who sits there? she wondered before arriving at an odd hunch. But is he healthy enough to...?

Alec looked at the strange hooded figure that seemed to stare at him and his ministers for a time, then turn somewhere else. He had no idea who they were. Noticing also an empty chair, he wondered who was still being expected. All foreign guests were shut out now at this point, so it must be the leader of either Whitecastle or The Elite Empire. When they would show up, he did not know, maybe it was a custom to keep guests waiting until a surprise moment?

Alec did feel a little chill down his spine when he saw that mysterious hooded figure stare at them. Who is he...or she for that matter, and why hasn't he even identified himself? He was getting increasingly unsure with some of these nations in this region, and their motives...

In an attempt to not dwell on such worries, Alec spoke up, albeit rather hesitatingly. "With all due respect," he said," I am sure my ministers and everyone else is fascinated by your technology, and would love to see a sample. I myself would. However, I believe that discussion and demonstration can wait until after pressing matters are discussed. Those pressing matters are why we are all here for this summit, and I do not think we have started focusing on those matters yet, when we should be."

Azzan smirked evilly in Alec's direction, "Nonsense, afterall dispelling fears of the unknown is part of discovery." Reaching down to the floor next to him into the satchel he pulled 3 identical vials of silvery swirling liquid, "These are the miracles in all that they are." Azzan passed one vial to either side of him, keeping the third for himself- he watched as the two vials progressed around the table. When he felt they were nearing their respective midway points he attached a three pronged injection device to his own vial, running a small pen like device he had also snatched from the satchel over the surface the vial lit up with a soft red hue to the silver, then without hesitation he injected himself with the nanodevices, the vial draining into his arm. Azzan made sure to keep his face stoic as the devices went it, he spoke aswell to show he felt no pain "I can assure you that as of right now that others outside of Anceltierre have already been treated, and that hypersensing models have already helped in the diagnostics of several people." Azzan smiled, "As I've said, this is the future without catches."

When the vial was passed into Lux's hand, she turned it over and inspecting the small swirling substance. Transfixed, she watched in amazement until the thought of what must be done re-entered her mind.

"Then inject me," Lux blurted out, unable to contain herself, as she stood up and leaned over the table with an extended arm. "I have nothing to lose. We don't know for sure if you are a test, designed to show us what we want to see, but I'm not. So, test it on me," her soft voice flared, demanding, showing now why despite being a pacifist she had earned a position as Dictator earlier in the war.

Already convinced on the idea, though, perhaps her judgement was a little early, due to her personal reasons for supporting the technology, Erzsebet nodded and smiled as she watched with interest. Azzan clearly had confidence in his nation's innovation, being willing to use it on himself. "Never trust a chef who doesn't eat his own cooking" was a common saying, but it appeared that this chef did.

As she was beside Azzan, the vampiress had been passed a vial of the liquid containing the nanobots. For a moment or two, she simply looked at it, peering into the effervescent material from different angles, to see if catching the light in a certain would reveal anything. After a minute or so of inspection, Erzsebet asked Azzan if it would be all right for her to bring it back to Callisdrun with her, rather than using it right then and there. The man from Anceltierre replied kindly that it would be fine, since he was proposing to freely share the technology with the world, after all. "Thank you, I'm sure our health care department will be quite intrigued," she said, her voice seemingly pensive.

"I propose," the Callisdrunian declaimed to the other delegates, "That we look into this technology, depending how this turns out, as I think it would be quite promising, especially considering the number of sick and injured war leaves in its wake, " Pausing, she continued, "but then, that's our main issue here isn't it... the war." Like all others in the room, Erzsebet's eyes were on Lady Lux, who had volunteered to inject herself.

Azzan smiled curiously, but lowered his head slightly, "It is good to see that a former leader of her people will put herself at risk before letting those below her fall to an ill intention." He raised the satchel to table level, the black leather and silver clasps calling back to a time further back in medical history, an irony considering what it held. Azzan pulled a second injector from the satchel and clensed the skin with a soft pad of anticeptic. Then as he connected the injector to the vial and activated them once more with the pen shaped device he looked into her eyes as if to ask if she was ready, when she nodded he plunged the prongs into her skin with expert efficiency as the silver liquid went into her in a matter of seconds.

After retracting the injector and empty vial he watched the monitor as the first wave of sensing devices spread the fastest through her body- her muscles were in good shape as were her veins were clear of clots, so far it looked like a normal, clean bill of health until they reached her internal systems. "All seems well." he announced as the monitor lit up with vitals and readings which he ofcourse turned to prove were live from inside of Lux. Then his heart skipped a beat but his face showed no sign of surprise- she was being kept alive through artificial organs, everything from her heart to her kidneys was replaced- this provided an answer to his questions, but he decided on doctor patient confidetiality, he'd confer with her in private when he could. Then came reports from the liver, it was failing. The queries from the devices came in with this information, his brow furrowed then after showing Lux the monitor and quietly explaining into her ear that not only what he had found about her very presence but also about the problem that could have killed her. Azzan then spoke loudly to the assembly as a declaration of what he had found, "Lux, you are a lucky woman-" He smiled, "your liver was failing. However, it is now under repair and should be like new in the next few hours, count yourself lucky that you had the courage to walk into the unknown."

Lux flinched slightly at the injection, Azzan had made it seem painless, but it nonetheless had a bite to the injection that she did not expect. She patiently waited for the analysis although her insides leaping with excitement....something new, something unknown, something running inside her body.

When Azzan finished his remarks, Lux blinked, "Is that all?" she asked in disbelief, surprised that it was such a relatively simple process, far less complex then she had imagined.

"That is all," Azzan added with a grin, showing that it really was a simple process.

Lux then let out a wild laugh, a relief of previously suppressed anxiety and fear. "And this is what we all feared?"

But his words burned inside her, artificial organs. It was a little too much for her to comprehend at the moment, but it was also not something she wanted everyone to know. She would keep silent, act as if everything besides her failing liver was normal. Smiling pleasently, playing her facade well, she turned to everyone, "Well you see, clearly we have little to fear."

Walking together to the first floor using a series of private corridors, Dante and Code Six traveled in silence, both knowing there was nothing to say to the other to pass the time. Dante's mind traveled back to Breeanna, the smell of her hair, the last kiss he had with her. He had to forget that part of his life now, it was over. Love could not exist to a man of his position.

He struggled at first with the pain of moving, but all too naturally he fell into his old readiness for battle, where pain did not exist. It was an almost liberating feeling, but he kept his face a figure carved in stone. Together, the two of them, walked side by side without an emotion playing across their faces, with the periodic exception of Dante whose raged burned and fueled just beneath the surface.

Stopping before a door, Code Six placed his hand on Dante's shoulder, holding him in place for a moment. Dante turned to face him, their eyes both locked a deadly stare, the rage behind his eyes flaring slightly.

"Dante, you are about to be exposed to the world again. Most of your soldiers do not know you are alive. Don’t be surprised when everyone is in shock at your arrival. You know I do not understand emotion but serve us well," Code Six's apathetic voice sounded, not a hint of emotion or feeling, just that black void of nothingness.

Dante nodded, from Code Six that had meant something, but what he could not exactly understand....if it had been Code Six's attempt at showing concern or if it was a death threat. He continued to walk until a group of heavily armed men surrounded him. "Sir, we are to be your escort in the event you are not well received. Welcome back. We can't say how good it is to see you again."

Dante kept his eyes ahead, not responding, for he felt there was no real need to respond. His mind was set on what needed to be done and at that moment, and what needed to be done was to reclaim his Empire in swoop. They had only once chance of a successful reclaimation of his empire and that was to sweep in and assume command while everyone was still in disbelief and disarray.

They proceeded around a corner and toward the main conference room which was hosting the summit. Heavy thudding of many boots sounded like a stampede, forewarning everyone of the approach of an important figure or the possibility of a hostile takeover. All those collecting around the hall before the summit turned their eyes to meet the entourage, curious who would be heading this way despite the fact that the summit had started and what their purpose for being here was.

At first silence swept across the room as debelief spread. However, several gasps escaped the mouths of some of the stunned soldiers. "Impossible." "Dante…." "Oh fuck." "Is this a joke?" It was not long before the noise outside the summit raised to a deafening roar as everyone huddled close to their former Figure Head to try and confirm it was really him or to gain an explanation what he was planning.

Inside the conference room, the noise became so loud that it was clearly audible over the discussions, disrupting the conversations flowing there. Several figures that blended in with the walls in the background began to move and shift stances, revealing that the room was indeed well secured from the inside. Still, the identities of these men could not be seen, only a vague outline of their figures. The immediate guards stationed closer to the table began to move towards the doors until they were stopped by what seemed an invisible force. Simultaneously they all stopped and returned to their positions around the room.


Autumn smiled darkly again, her secret finally revealed, and she could not contain the excitement at watching their responses. She sat back expectantly in the seat and waited as the heavy doors were thrown open and the armed guard approached, guns drawn aimed at the ambassadors.

Azzan leaned in with great curiosity, it seemed like a seige of oddly familiar looking uniforms and officers were pouring forth from the doors. What's gone wrong now Azzan thought as he let an exasperated sigh escape. Things always seemed to go from weird to worse when it involved the reich... and this looked no different. Slowy he looked around the gathered assembly, they too had their eyes glued to the door, Azzan slightly smirked as he promised himself if the new comer came through a non existant back door he'd laugh. Then returning to the door and the racious noise from outside the chamber he thought he might see the end of the procession of oncoming soldiers, who it was they were escorting- he didn't know but he knew it was a prominent force to be reckoned with.

The room had admitted a set of new uniforms. None of which were familiar to any of the four Popeleomans. But their primary concern was at the firearms drawn on them. Ralph ducked under the table in fright while the other three remained impassive. Sir Leigh's face remained in its stony expression, calmly staring at the muzzle flashes of the soldiers rifles. This would be the third time he would find himself in this sort of situation. The last time, the former UN representative was killed in a hail of gunfire in D'Aquahan, and he was the ADC. In his mind, this thoughts turned to his wife and teenage son and the family dog. "Mangy mutt..." he muttered. The other two looked perturbed and Arthur's drink had left his hand for the first time during the meeting. Ralph's arm poked from under the table and onto Sir Leigh's lap. In his clenched hand was a folded piece of paper.
"SIR! TAKE THIS!" Ralph hissed at him. He dropped it in Sir Leigh's lap and his hand dissappeared once again under the table. Sir Leigh examined it. It read: Sir! We are in grave danger! What do we do? Should I call someone? We're going to die... He chuckled.
"Ralph, no." He crumpled the paper, dropped it onto the floor and he kicked at him. He kicked a second time, this time right in the ribs of an unsuspecting Ralph. He moaned and left the ball of paper on the floor and came out from hiding. Sir Leigh calmly folded his hands on the table, and said only the following word. "Gentlemen..."

OOC: EVERYONE, please read. Dante is not in the room yet. You have all used OOC knowledge IC'ly, use only what you read. What you see is a barrage of armed men storming into the room with guns drawn at all the ambassadors. It's an armed wall, you cannot see past them to see Dante.

Erzsebet had been thinking of something to say in favor of taking up the proposal, seeing as Lady Lux had suffered no ill effects from the 'miracles' as they were called, but the influx of armed men into the conference room cut off any thoughts on the matter she'd been putting together at the time. Shit, what is this? Some kind of hostage taking? her thoughts now asked as she resisted the urge to panic. The vampiress had been a prisoner already, she didn't fancy being one again.

Saying nothing as the soldiers surrounded them, she slid her hand under the table to lightly touch the axe that had been allowed by security to remain on her belt. It wouldn't do much good against a swarm of individuals armed with firearms, but it was the only weapon Erzsebet had at the moment, and even if she was still mostly helpless, it was reassuring to have that sharp chunk of steel close by. Her large eyes searched around for someone in charge, any change to the situation that might make things clearer, but there was none. They also scanned for a means to escape if it became necessary, but it didn't appear to be that either. The Callisdrunian took care not to open her mouth. It could be very bad to be taken captive, as a woman, and with some foes, it could be very bad to be taken captive as a vampire. Being taken prisoner as both could be unimaginably horrible. Erzsebet tried not to look into any of the soldiers' eyes, so as not to draw undue attention to herself.

"My God," Alec said as he saw Azzan's miracle cure work in progress. "It does work indeed." He smiled. "My apologies for doubting you sir, but I hope you can understand how we felt since we never saw a demonstration. Now that we have, it is something I will propose to the people back in Marionetsvia to look into."

Just as Dmitriy was about to speak, a sudden influx of armed men in body armour stormed through the door behind where the empty chair sat. The GSS guards bunched slightly closer to the Govindian delegation. A futile attempt as they were unarmed, though at least they could still attempt to protect President Trevelyan and the two ministers, even if it meant their deaths. That was their job, what they had signed up for when they joined the Secret Service.

Simon leaned slightly into Alec and whispered. "Remain calm as best as you can. We'll do what we need to." Alec nodded, as did Rajay and Dmitriy upon hearing that. Rajay appeared a lot more nervous now, despite the recommendation, and Dmitriy started to feel goosebumps, though he tried his best not to show his fear to the armed men.

Alec saw Erzsebet next to him, trying to also remain calm. He guessed that, beneath her cold exterior, she was also frightened as well. He leaned slightly and whispered into her ear. "If you are feeling afraid, you are not the only one," Alec said. "My guards will also do my best to protect you as well, even if it means their death." As he said this, the GSS guards moved their bunch to be slightly closer to not only the Govindians, but to Callisdrunian admiral as well.

Richard, among the other representatives there who had silently slipped in before the closure of the doors, sat in one of the unoccupied chairs near the foot of the table. He had nothing to say, nothing those folders showed him compared to what he had to endure in the name of the unspeakable. Still, he felt that binding silence, as if he would never utter the words "Reich Freedom Fighter" in his life. It was as if the very name itself were jinxed and upon saying it, you would stumble across one of those heartless beasts. He kept his word silent, knowing even if he could speak of it, few would believe the horrors he had witnessed and those he had inflicted with his own hands. The lies and deceit, the puppetry.

His eyes watched the occupants as they introduced himself, keeping focus on Alex. The man looked remarkably well yet still slightly ill from when he had last seen him. Code Six was there as well. At their hands Alex was left in a near death state with no immediate medical attention in the vacanity. They had told Destiny that her brother was dead; she had believed them. She fought and begged for them to save her brother only to later die herself. Shame and regret filled him, if only he could step back in time and tell Destiny that Alex was alive, that he would survive and come out remarkably well considering what he had been through.

He let the introductions pass over him. There was little to say about himself....he was fighting with knowing who he was. Code Six changed him and for the better or worse it was yet to be determined. All he could know was that his life was mesh of a twisted realities and he was struggling just to afload amongst them.

Loosely he listened to Azzan's proposal. He knew that either way whether or not they accepted it, that he was not the one who would decide for his country. Hell Queen would see to if it were important, he reminded himself, as he thought about what he left behind in his nation when he came to The Dictatorship. He couldn't help but wonder why he came in the first place.

But his attention was drawn to the doors as a loud racous noise outside was picking up in volume. Soon, the doors were forced open and a large group of armed men appeared with guns drawn at them. He sighed, the familiarity of all of this violence in The Reich was second nature to him. He knew all too well that you played your part in it or you were sure to regret the consequences.

His eyes turned to Tresckow, who raised his arms half way in silent surrender. He felt respect for this man, a great deal of respect for the General who had showed him an ounce of kindess and humanity. Tresckow's voice came out calm, "we are unarmed. Lower your weapons. There is no need for hostilities." Even in the face of potential hostility and violence, Tresckow remained calm and assertive. He let himself grin at that thought.

The nearest soldiers began to part, forming a blockade around the table, an impenetrable wall of soldiers as they overtook the guards who were supposed to protect the ambassadors from danger.

"This is a hostile takeover of the summit. No one move. We have been authorized by higher authority to shoot anyone who disobeys this order."

Dante let out a maniacal laughter from behind the wall of soldiers, a sound so wild and primitive that it sent instinctive shivers down the spines of the nearby guards and ambassadors. The sound of someone moving behind the wall of soldiers was the only noise in the now silent room. And even in the attempts to steal a glance at who this person was, it was not possible behind the shoulder to shoulder muscle bulked wall.

The doors were again sealed tightly and the remaining guards stationed themselves next to the doors both outside and inside the conference hall. With guns still drawn, the soldiers stared ahead of them, eyes locking on a seemingly invisible force behind the head of the table.

Standing, Autumn removed herself from the seat on cue, and turned toward the sound of the heavy steps walking toward her. Something oddly familiar about them stirred in her, but she shrugged it off until the figure rounded the head of the table.

"Oh no," she whispered, as her mouth dropped, and she stumbled backward. This was not who she expected. What game was this?

"Breathless Autumn?" a deep masculine voice sounded as a man emerged next to the head of the table, in view of everyone. The profile of his face was noted first, and it was clear this man was accustomed to intense physical labor by his masculine physique which was framed well in the all black uniform. A cape was drawn over his left shoulder and his hands were covered with black gloves. As he turned to face the ambassadors, his dark hair caught the dimmed light while his dark brown eyes appeared all black in the subtle lighting, flaring only slightly with a mild level of annoyance.

No one needed to ask who this was. His picture had been posted on several documents in the folders and was easily accessible within the history of The Reich. His eyes caught each of the ambassadors and he stared until they all too naturally adverted their eyes from the discomfort of being watched by Dante.

"Dante...." Autumn whispered, "you're alive."

Without making eye contact with Autumn, he placed an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, speaking softly in her ear but still loud enough in the dead silence of the room for those nearby to hear, "You were meant to keep me in line. You must get out of here at the first chance you get. Do not underestimate these guards, I have ordered them to shoot anyone who attempted to leave and that includes you. They will only obey that order. You will sit at my left hand," he said as he pulled her to his side so that she may easily access her seat when he motioned for her to sit.

"Who speaks for The Reich?" the deep voice demanded as his eyes traveled over a few faces.

Alex stood silently, but his voice came out clear and strong, not an ounce of fear, "I do." The moment Dante became recognizable; he understood now why he was not expected to live and why it was important that he of all people spoke for The Reich. No one had a pull over Dante like he did; his father saved the man's life.....Dante was in debt to Alex by default.

Dante nodded, it was fitting to have the son of Atticus speak. "Move to the foot of the table. I like to face my opponents."

Collecting his notes, he walked in front of the wall of soldiers who all in unison took a few steps back to allow him the room to move. Finding his seat at the foot of the table, he spread back out his notes and looked down the length of the long table to meet Dante's unnerving stare.

Seeing Alex seated, Dante motioned to Autumn who took Alex's former seat. With everyone seated, he placed his hands firmly on the edge of the table and leaned forward, watching everyone closely, scrutinizing every aspect and mannerism each one displayed.

"Did you all review the materials?" he asked.

Nos laughed suddenly, loudly, and outrageously. Standing up quickly, he sent his chair sliding across the floor into one of the soldiers; he walked over to the only remaining folder in front of the UN Delegate of The Reich and swiped it from under his gaze. "This!? You mean this load of crap!" he spat angrily as he whipped the folder across the table at Dante. Stopping halfway before it even reached Dante, the papers rippled and shattered across the table and onto some of the ambassador’s laps.

Walking up to Dante, he cursed in Dante's face, "It's bullshit! It's a load of pure bullshit. I'm surprised you of all people would expect us to read this shit! Kustov killed. Brock killed. Dictator Destiny. Craig. Greg. Mathias!" he hissed his name, "how many of them Dante? How many? You call those causalities? Was there a single mention about how you enjoyed each one of those deaths immensely? Was there a single fact about how you made them all eat the barrel of your shotgun and laughed while they begged for mercy? Or how you erased seven nations off the face of this planet because you could? What about those statistics and facts Dante? Fuck you and fuck your stupid reports!"

Dante's voice came out cold, "Noskalenaeuroph. So much like you to speak the truth, but you know I don't write reports." With that said though, he oddly grinned.

Meeting Dante's grin, he threw his arms around Dante in a brotherly hug and laughed. "Good to have you back." He took his seat once again, content with Dante's answer.

Dante continued to look at the ambassadors, "Anything else?"

But when no one spoke, he took his seat and leaned back, turning toward Azzan, "so Azzan, nanotechnology you say? Miracles?"

Azzan blanched as he sat deep into his chair, half wishing it'd swallow him alive. He was always interested in meeting the legends that had dominated the political international scene for so long. And now that he was finally in the presence of one, he wished he wasn't. He could barely breathe as he remembered quite clearly knocking him out with the tranquilizers, then later using his own hand to subdue the furious flailing of a half mad man he had assumed to be a ranking officer with a severe sickness... his heart was pounding in his ears, he found it hard to take in air. To find it was Dante was sickening, he had heard all the stories of Dante from those who lived in whitecastle, of his unforgiving nature to those he felt had wronged him. Azzan only prayed there were enough soldiers to keep his neck intact. Then duty dragged him up from his slump to an upright position at the ardous pace of climbing a mountain, he had a job to do- if he let fear get the best of him he may as well surrender along with the Vampiress when the time came. He nodded his head in greeting, "It is good to meet you under... more Auspicious circumstances Da-" Azzan had to quickly choke down the fear but managed to make it seamless "-nte" Azzan continued, gaining confidence as he spoke, “I didn’t name them but yes, the miracles are indeed a fashioning of several nanotechnologies into one solid package that is able to perform multiple tasks, such as is required of such a system.” Azzan nudged his glasses, “What exactly would you like to know?”

Leaning in his chair, Dante rested his elbow on the arm rest, propping his head up with his knuckle. Through a hazy memory he remembered Azzan and the memories were beginning to feed that flaring inferno withhin. His scutinizing stare penetrated Azzan, but he said little as he listened to the man speak. He was master of utilizing silence in any situation.....his long years in isolation had indirectly honed this skill into a perfection....that was if only his rage permitted him to do so.

When he determined the uncomfortable silence for everyone had persisted long enough and his information was complete, his deep forceful voice emerged, "I already know about your technology. The question is how do you intend to convince my empire you are doing them a favor? You won't convince me either way. I've already got my opinion about it. But you've got billions to convince that this way of life is better for them and if you didn't take notice they are content with the lives they have now."

His glance turned to a few of the hooded figures, who were reported to have been unidentified. He would have to try to uncover those people as soon as possible. Dossiers were needed, information drawn up. He had to be in control of this summit from that point out.

"It's not enough to be content with your life, one must be active and shape your own destiny- even a dead fish can go with the stream." Azzan saw the recognition flare into life in Dante's imperial stare, Crap crap crap was all he could think of- he sighed softly, too late, might aswell continue digging a grave if it was for his cause. "Even if they are truly happy with their lives, I believe they couldn't very well argue against prolonging their good lives." Azzan smiled, "I don't have to sell them to the people, they essentially sell themselves once they've been dispersed among the nations who'll accept my offering of the fruit of so many efforts."

Dante laughed a deep resonating laugh that reverberated of the far walls of the room for a few moments. "You're self assured. You might be of value to me afterall. Let's test your observation skills now. Can you tell me the five ambassadors who managed to smuggle a weapon into this summit?"

He stared into Azzan's eyes, giving no indication that even he knew who they were.

Meanwhile, the ambassadors grew nervous, stealing sharp glances at each other as they too tried to determine who the perpetrators were. Among them, Nos let a sardonic grin spread across his face.....so like Dante to know his surroundings, it was as if he could smell the very elements making up each weapon.

Sir Leigh still sat impassive. His document folder had been taken from him and he could do nothing without risking his life. He leaned back in his chair, and looked in the other direction. "Shit." he thought. "Not good... Not what I expected..." The lines on his face began to heavily crease as he squinted, almost leering at Dante. Only thing now to do was to sit and see what would play out.

Azzan grinned, a game of life and death- even if it wasn't stated explicitly he knew that's what this was. He traced back through his memories of everyone he'd seen today with a keen eye. The first name to pop into his head was Alex, having already known he had a gun Azzan was sure that he still had it on him, if only to protect himself at this potentially dangerous summit and that ;eaving it in his room would only lead to it being found. The vampiress was armed earlier, but was she now? She certainly had the gusto to tell of anyone who even thought of touching her axe that their next move would bring them alot of pain, even the gaurds. Azzan puzzled quietly and diligently, as he replayed the summit in his head; he had just gotten through administering the miracles to Lux when the uproar came to the door along with Dante's soldiers... he had looked around to give himself a reading on the responses of the other dignitaries, that's when he realized he had seen panic in Erzsebet's eyes, her hand reaching to her side, the side opposite of him. It was a long shot but he'd have to take it.

Azzan spoke clearly and concisely, "I can indeed tell you their names- if you give your word that no action will be taken against them for being armed once their identities are revealed." Dante replied coarsely with a simple nod. Azzan nodded back and spoke, "Alex is armed, the gun is concealed in his uniform somewhere" He gave Alex a look that tried to communicate he meant no offense by naming him first then turned to Erzsebet, "I believe the vampiress has her ceremonial axe on her left side." Then delving into his satchel Azzan brought out another vial, but this one had a blackish tinge to the silver, giving it a menacing appearance, Azzan activated the vial's contents and suddenly a puple glow emmanated from what were once miracles- "I am armed with the only nano devices that can be used in anger- this is the only vial of them that exist and are made in a different fashion that the miracles... I am the only one who knows how to make them, and it's something I plan to take with me to the grave." He placed the vial on the table, a ploy to stall for time as his mind raced to figure out who the other two were. Shit... was all he was able to come with after racking his brain, he had to go with his gut for these two last ones.

"Tresckow..." Azzan said quietly, "he is a good friend of someone we at this table know is ill and would do anything to protect said someone, including smuggling a weapon into the summit if it meant buying the young man some time... I base this on the fact of the reaction given when the feeling of failure at not gibing the man enough protection when it seemed one of the others at this table killed our young friend." Azzan looked down and prayed he was atleast close in his presumptions. Then after settling down a bit more, "I only count 4, however- it is not beyond suspicion that the person or persons that kept Lux alive are present and are willing to use force to continue keeping he alive until she has served her part to them."

Silence overtook the room after Azzan named his suspected persons as shifting glances darted around to each of the named individuals.

"Intelligent guesses," the hooded figure nearest to him spoke, turning its concealed face toward him.

Dante half grinned, the light catching his teeth, shining off of them giving him a menacing appearence. "Observative," he spoke as his intense staring turned itself toward the hooded figure.

For a few moments, the two stared at each other until Dante turned his attention to Alex.

"Show us your weapon," he ordered coldly, his gaze not leaving Alex for a moment.

Following Dante's lead, he reached into a well placed pocket within his uniform jacket and removed the handgun, placing it on the table before him. The gun deflected the light, and for the first time it was evident that a great deal of engineering went into making the gun fit for covert operations.

Without instruction two guards came up from behind Alex, simultaneously seizing Alex and the gun. Alex did not put up a struggle as he was forced to his feet and cuffed. Silently he allowed the guards to pull him away, the only sound a single grunt as they forced his body forward pushing his head onto the table. It hit the table with a heavy thunk.

Tresckow, reacting on instinct, stood up and began to head toward Alex until he was apprehended by two armed guards and forced into his seat. Held in place by a gun to his head, Tresckow remained still but could not take his eyes off of Alex.

"Dante! Stop this madness! I gave him that gun!" Tresckow yelled, glaring at Dante.

Dante continued his half grin, half staring between Alex and Azzan. "You were right. How does it feel?" he asked Azzan, as he continued to watch the scene unfold with Alex who after being searched harshly was now being forcefully escorted while at gunpoint toward the summit doors.

Alex who prior to that point did not fight them, turned his head to look back, catching the eyes of Dante. Was this a game he was playing? A test?

Azzan clenched his jaw, rage was boiling- so much for a promise from a so called man of his word. "It brings me no joy to know that I was right to question your motives if that's what you're asking... my only question is why was it only him that was taken?" Azzan spoke emotionless and without any hint of anger, he knew if he did he may be the next to be cuffed. Dante, was quickly breaking the idealization Azzan had made of the legends that had so affected the regional events for these last many years. Azzan's eyes flickered a signal to the vampiress not to give up what she had but he continued to stare into the welling pits of Dante's cold eyes- he would prove himself now, on this stage or die fighting. He knew the vial on the table wasn't the only one, he still had one trick up his sleeve and he was glad to have it... if used the tailored virus contained in the pestalences- a name he had made for them- would spread so fast anyone in this room would die in a matter of weeks, in agonizing pain... Azzan just hoped in wouldn't come to that, he still had a chance to bring this to the conclusion he had hoped for- a bright new era, not this dark turn into intrique.

Dante continued to watch them both, meeting Alex's eyes and acknowledging the questioning stare with a nod. "I should have been more specific," was all he said as he walked down the length of the table following in persuit as the doors were opened and Alex drug out.

Grabbing the handgun from the guard who possessed it, Dante walked out of the doors following the guard. As the doors began to close behind him, a single gunshot was heard followed by the unmistakable slumping of a body on the floor.

A few murmured words which sounded like "clean that up" were all that was heard before the doors were closed. Silence filled the room, a paralyzing silence of shock and disbelief.

Dante was known to be unforgiving and ruthless, but killing the voice of The Reich was uncharactersitic, unless of course, he was removing a weakness.

The silence persisted for a long drawn out minute until Lux began to weep loudly. "He was so young...." she spoke through tears streaming down her face. "Why would he do that? Why would he bring a gun in here? Didn't he know this was supposed to be a peace conference?"

Azzan responded calmly, "He knew the risks, he carried it because it was his line of defense... now that Dante's here I highly doubt any plans for real peace have gone out the window I'm afraid." Azzan puzzled over the sounds behind the door, he could have sworn the time between the shot and thud was far too long for a man already near the ground, not to mention too loud- he deperately prayed his instints were right. Dante may be dealing with a weakness alright, but not the one everyone seemed to think... but still his heart was pounding for his friend, he couldn't deny he was afraid for the young man's life, he felt cold sweat on the back of his neck. Dante may be his toughest obstacle yet- the unreadable bastard..

The silence continued with the exception of Lux's crying until the doors were opened and two guards entered. They parted to let Dante enter who was walking aside a relatively unharmed Alex, who was massaging his wrists from the friction of the cuffs rubbing against them.

"Thank you," he said to Dante as Dante escorted him to his seat and pulled out the chair for him. Alex took his seat but found Dante did not immediately return to his own seat. Standing next to Alex for a moment, Dante resurveyed the scene, noting a different look in each of the armed guards.....a look not noticable to anyone other then himself as it was only a look in their eyes he could acknowledge from his many years of command. Holding the gun to inspect it for a moment, he replaced it in front of Alex.

"Keep it," he said as noted the subtle acknowledgement and awe that spread in his soldiers. He had won them over once again. They would no longer follow the orders of anyone but him.

Resumming his seat, he looked back at each of the ambassadors, particularly noting how Lux was crying, but now seemed relieved. A look of horror spread across her face though as she looked toward Dante who wore the blood of his recent kill which splattered across his face and uniform as if it were part of his uniform.

She then looked quickly to Alex, who also contained similiar blood splattering across the profile of his face and it became evident that Dante had shot the guard standing right next to him at close range.

Turning his gaze once again to Azzan, the half grin disappeared on Dante's face, replaced by a burning rage inside, that ebbed and flowed in his eyes. "Hand over your nanotechnology," he ordered abruptly and immediately shot his gaze toward Erzsebet, "and your axe."

Relief flooded Azzan's frame, he was right... and for that he felt a certain joy. Azzan then turned to Dante and his heated stare, then staring right back at him, "I think not, they are my responsibility and my burden- I won't let them go into anyone else's hands, even yours." Azzan coldly pushed up his glasses so that they flashed in the light. He pulled the purplish silver fluid filled vial back to him and held it to the halogens above him, sickly colors danced in the vial. "I do apologize for creating these but if they were to fall into the hands of those who would not see an evil to be destroyed, but a weapon, I fear that my miracles could turn into the greatest pestilance that has ever marred mankind in its quest for self destruction.." Azzan paused and accepted that he may soon feel enraged fists around his neck... or hot lead in his chest cavity, "So no, I'm afraid that the burden will remain my own Dante."

Dante stared coldly at Azzan, as he waited with an open hand for the vial to be placed in it. He felt the rage flare, his unopened left hand clenching the desk top to suppress the urge to snap the man's neck. Clearly Azzan was not accustomed to orders in The Reich.

"Let me make this clear to you..... You came to my nation. Three minutes ago you lost any authority over your so called free will. The only options you have are the ones I give to you. You are not a citizen of my nation and you are not entitled to their rights..."

In the mean time, the hooded figure slipped out of its chair and moved toward Alex. It bent over him and whispered something in his ear before it grabbed his head, twisting it roughtly to the side and ripped open his shirt. Inserting a needle into one of the ports, the hooded figure directed its attention toward Dante and Azzan.

"So I will tell you again, hand over your nanotechnology. Should you disobey, your friend will die," he spoke with a simple nod to Alex's direction, noticing that the hooded figure had moved into place. "You will have to trust me that it shall be returned unscathed to your hands. Do the right thing. Is your technology worth risking the life of Alex and the fall of The Reich?"

"If the fall of the reich will prevent the fall of mankind, then we must all make such sacrifices." He nodded reassuringly to Alex, and after deactivating the pestalences to an inert silver he placed the injector tip on the vial against his own skin, the nano's inside his own body would restrain the new antimiracles to his own body so he'd become the carrier and any chance of stealing the tech would go with him. He was playing a desperate game, he knew that even if what Dante said was true it was no gaurantee of the devices being safe from eyes unknown. But Azzan knew this was probably another game within a test- Dante was way too fond of such games Azzan decided. Azzan silently reactivated the purple glow, and pulled away the injection device, and with a self assured smirk he passed it to Tresckow who passed it to Dante. "Don't let it out of your sights, unless you want who ever your men were listening to before your return to know how to destroy all of us in one fell swoop." He grinned ferally to show he knew what the show of power had been about.

Dante held the vial in his hand and turned it upside down, watching the tiny nanobots scramble for a moment as they tumbled in a seemingly fluid moment. "You know this is not the first time these were introduced to The Reich?" Dante spoke, ignoring the presence of everyone but the hooded figure who held Alex's head tightly still, the gloved hand fixed on the special secured glass syringe holding a viscious black fluid above the open port to Alex's heart.

The figure then snapped its attention to Azzan. "He's a dangerous man. Treacherous. You can have him....treachery runs better in your Empire then it does in our's anyway," the voice shot angerily but continued to hold Alex there. "I don't want him. He's your's for the taking."

Dante half grinned to the figure who still held a steady contol over the syringe. "I may. He doesn't seem to trust me though. It appears these new ones don't know I also follow The Code."

"Of course they don't! I was the last generation raised under it. We sent out our citizens. Schools couldn't teach strict discipline and morals. The war changed when it got to them. They didn't know the hard loss and hard work that it took to keep The Dictatorship. Fools they are but what can be expected? We caused this," the hooded figure shot back, anger in its voice.

"You would have made a fine member of my Elites. Why you chose The Reich I don't understand," Dante added, turning the vial in his hand again and watching the minute robotic technology fall down like a fluid. "I wonder which is more dangerous. This," he spoke turning the vial over again, "or that," he nodded toward the syringe in the hooded figure's hand.

"Dante. Hold onto it until we are done. I don't trust him," the figure pleaded, turning its concealed head toward Azzan again.

"Azzan, what do you have to say?" Dante asked, continuing to turn the vial over and over again.

Azzan took a small breath then spoke, "What you have there is the end, to human civilization, to human life...I never meant to create it, but as with everything man does, I pushed to far- I keep it as a reminder as to the evils we can bring upon ourselves and it shall be destroyed soon enough and the secrets of how to make it will accompany me to the grave- you have my word as Potentate." At this he gave a second hidden vial that was tucked in his sleeve to Dante, a quiet sign of trust now that he had the keys to what could spell the end for humanity.

"See!" the hooded figure shouted. "He keeps pulling them out of everywhere! I bet he has them tucked up his ass too. How can you expect me to put down my guard when this man clearly came to this summit baring no interest in the peace of this region?"

Dante took the second vial and held them both in his hands, turning them over to stare at the swirling fluid of falling nanos. He directed his gaze toward the hooded figure again, "This is the last one. You know my security measures are tight after the last time I left friends into my home. Now will you give me your's as well so we can end this dispute?"

The hooded figure watched Dante closely and moved its attention to Azzan before slowly relinquishing its hold over the syringe. Pulling it out slowly after a few careful twists, she let go of Alex's head and stepped back, securing the syringe with a cap that made a mechanical hiss when twisted on, clearly not a normal syringe used to contain normal injectable fluids.

Walking over, it handed the syringe to Dante before walking back to its seat near Azzan. "You are playing a fool's game. Don't you dare pull a move like that again. You don't know what you are up against with him. He's quick to anger and his rage has destroyed seven nations because someone got cocky. This may not be your home but it's ours and we don't appreciate the lives of you gambling them," the figure hissed vehemently as it sat in its chair.

Disregarding the hooded figure, Dante turned to Azzan, "Tell me....what is your purpose for introducing these to this region?"

Alex let his head slump down after being released, feeling pain from being forcefully held at an awkward angle. Twice his life was threatened in a duration of only several minutes. He had expected it from Dante but not the hooded figures.

"Listen closely and do not move. I was forced to take security measures against you being the voice of The Reich. If you were to be held in a compromising position or our region facing peril, I was ordered to kill you. I'd rather not but you know the manners in which we work. I'm sure you doubt you'll walk out of here alive or in one piece anyway. Just don't fight me Alex. Think about what your father would've done if he were here."

The voice still loomed in his head, the whispered words only he could hear. His heart began to clench tightly, pressure building. He reached instinctively toward his bag and realized he had forgotten it back in the room.

Leaning forward, he rested his head on his folded arms and closed his eyes. It was all he could do right now. Trying to fill his father's shoes was impossible....foolish....deadly. He would need to be martyred before he even came close. What was he thinking trying to shoulder the responsibility of The Reich by his voice alone?


Noticing Alex had fallen asleep, Dante's face fell into a despondant look, almost grim in appearence. He waved the hand with the syringe in it seemingly carelessly toward Alex and watched while the unarmed guards moved forward toward him.

He turned back to Azzan, "I knew they would do it that. It was unfair to the boy but necessary. You see we might be at war against one another but when you go to war against one of us we unite against you. As much as I dislike The Dictatorship, I too am part of The Reich. What befalls them befalls Whitecastle and the rest of my empire stationed here. I've grown fond of Whitecastle after the years....it has been my life's working progress toward a harmonious civilization. I have successfully blended past and present with the direction of a future. I have integrated the needs and demands of wild life and humanity through my sectors and reserves. I have blended foreign and native without destroying traditions and customs or ecology. As you can tell, Whitecastle is a pinnacle of harmony. The last goal I must accomplish is re-establishment of a stable government to ensure continued existance of our lifestyle, which during the midst of this summit is being done as my people spread the word their Dante has come back to them. Know this is not a dictatorship. I act only as a face for my people and a voice they spead through. I make no laws outside of military action. Why do I tell you this? Because you seem to have a similiar goal as mine. But your actions were hasty."

In the mean time, Alex who had been awoken to a warm hand on his shoulder, lifted his head, feeling very tired. "Sir, come with us. Dante wishes you rest more comfortably. Your strength is important to him, General," the guards spoke, having learned the double identity Alex was playing. Incapable of understanding their jest past the hazy of his tiredness, he just nodded in his silent reserve and let them help him to a section partitioned off the immediate conference hall shadowed in the darkness.....he started to wonder how many of these rooms there were, but his heart thudded heavily and he felt himself growing more tired.

Dante let the silence sit for a moment as Alex was escorted out of his seat to an unseen area in the darkness of the room. Once one of the guards returned to indicate that Alex was safe and secure, Dante turned back to Azzan, "He is ill, isn't he?" Dante asked, already knowing the answer by the way Alex struggled against fatigue. "You first met me at a vulnerable time. I want you to know times have changed. Memories are hazy, but I imagine it didn't go well for our first encounter. I just want to be clear that you aren't drawing the wrong conclusions about me. I had a different mindset then...something to run away from." Placing the items onto the table before him, he removed the black gloves, revealing a terribly scarred hand.

"This is Dante," he held up his scarred hand for everyone to see as his voice flared in a momentarily spike of rage, "This is what my anger does."

He felt his fist shatter again against the glass, the conversation written in blood, and the horrified look of that small girl as she screamed in terror at the rage he outflowed toward her. The scream echoed in his memory, surging him into a dark room where he was locked with that same child, that horrified little girl....the raven child, his daughter.

Azzan quietly looked at Dante, "I don't assume much Dante, but I think I have a founded fear in that hand lashing out should that mindset come back." He smiled grimly, "Yes Alex is sick... and I do want to help, but it's his choice, just as it was my choice to bring examples of pestilences here- they are a warning to the evils we could have chosen to visit upon you and your nations. They are what we fought against when we first began research, our nation chose the right decision- we want to help and create a new era of light, Anceltierre doesn't wish to send the world into dark times as you don't want to bring pain and war to your own nations." Azzan looked around quietly, "You may keep them if you wish, but never reliquish them, destroy them- quickly"

Dante pondered over the thought of keeping a deadly technology in his midst while staring at the vials of swirling nanos. "Do you know a man named Mathias Bortniansky?" Dante asked, again directing his attention toward Azzan, shifting his glance around the room only momentarily to watch certain people nod in recognition of the man's name and status in The Reich.

"You remind me of him. Brilliant mind and a love of deadly technology....always testing the limits of creation. So here in this room we have two equal and highly lethal technologies capable of being dispersed through the world and destroying it."

He picked up the syringe of the black viscous fluid, "This is XGN T2, a biochemical Mathias Bortniansky created in the early stages of our war. There are two methods of action....one is immediate injection which would kill the host almost instantly. The other is exposing it to air where the viral/bacterial components release an equally lethal gas in the presence of oxygen that burns your body from the inside out. Both deaths are excruciating as your body's muscles tighten until it feels like you snap into two. Your lungs burn and before your death you plead with whatever God you believe in to just let you die right there and then."

Turning the syringe over, he passed it to Azzan while passing the nanotechnology to the hooded figure. "I've given you both the power to destroy each other. What will you choose?"

Azzan examined the syringe quietly then put it down on the table with a soft plink of glass against the table, "I have no wish to destroy him, or anybody- it's why I regret following the path that lead to the creation of those vials, even if I am to die with the secret of their creation I still carry the guilt of knowing what I created... if it were to be used, I would be deeply dissappointed in the choice of those who used it and would curse myself for even creating the pestilence." He stood there a bit longer and looked to the figure under the hood, "If your going to hold what could kill everyone here in whitecastle, atleast show your face so that we may know who holds our fates in their hands."

Dante nodded, content with Azzan's response, finding that the man had suffiently passed his test.

The hooded figure held the vials, looking them over a final time before handing them back to Azzan. "I don't want this responsibility," it said.

It sat for a moment in silence then its gloved hands lifted upward toward its hood and drew it back slowly. A few loose strands of blonde hair fell forward over the face, but most was drawn back in a clip that held it in place loosely. Her eyes flashed to meet Dante's first and then returned to Azzan as her hand reached around the glass of liquor in front of her.

"My name is Levia. Levia La'Doure. Der Fuhrer Dyszel personally ask that I attend this summit as I have little regard doing what is necessary for the continuation of this region....plus I already knew about Alex's port when I almost killed him earlier. Mein Fuhrer is sure to pick the correct person for any necessary task," she added as she turned her head to another of the hooded figures who simply bowed its head in response.

"With that said, my friend wishes to remain anonymous for many reasons. There is an uncomfortable atmosphere in this room some of us wish not to have our identities subjected to."

She took a drink from her glass, sucking down the potent fluid, and placed the glass back on the table.

Dante sat back, withdrawn as Levia introduced herself to everyone. It could have been expected that she was here, having nearly let the entire Reich know she was an alcoholic, and being one of the few to be drinking during an important conference, but then again Levia's appearence was not a marked one in The Reich.

His thoughts however were lost for a moment in this game he was puppeteering.....the puppet master a puppet. He let the anger well, giving it a due course in emerging. He needed to experience it, needed the rage to calm his unpleasent thoughts. He closed his eyes as it welled, feeling the burning surface and overtake him. He clenched his jaw shut.....so many years of false freedom and here he was again just a prisoner alone in the world, not a soul aside of him. No, they saw to it to remove that link he had with humanity, the only part of his life that made him feel like a real human being capable of doing human things and being a decent person capable of regret and remorse. How could he fuck them over? What final "fuck you" statement could he make to them? He needed to teach them a lesson most of all.

Snapping his eyes open as the thought struck him, he turned in chair to face Azzan and leaned back and resting, "Azzan. I will only offer this once. Take it or leave it. Will you join me?" his deep voice asked, a flat sound that masked the excitement at a solution he had found to his false sense of freedom he was given.

Azzan blinked, stunned at the offer. Was this another test? Was this the truth that he wanted Azzan's help? All the risks that were involved were definitely made a strong argument- a vcery strong argument. But Azzan knew it could be his one chance to move beyond and help more people than he ever could as a mere potentate- no matter how great Anceltierre was the empire was far stronger and larger. He managed to come off as nonchalant when he answered but he felt the excitement deep in his core, like electricity jumping from all his nerve endings, "I believe that this offer will end in something better for the both of us and our nations- you've got an ally, if not a friend, in myself and whatever I can offer." He looked directly into Dante's eyes then looked around at the stunned silent faces at the table wondering if his face mirrored their own.

Nodding toward Alec, Erzsebet whispered, before doing such became impossible, "Thank you, I can still handle myself, too," reminding him that she was not a politician, but a warrior, despite her apparent grace. To make sure he didn't take it as some kind of snub or disrespect, she added a half smile before looking back towards the commotion. It could be easy to mistake a tiny and elegant woman for a defenseless waif, the vampiress knew. Once she might have gotten mad about it, but then, she had proven a little less tough than she had thought she was, and grown tired of raging for no reason.

Keeping her hand on her axe, she watched as Dante, the man she'd seen so wounded earlier in his chambers, where the two of them had compared scars, the ravages that life had wrought on the shells they called their bodies. It had been a tender moment, cut short all too soon. His eyes regarded each delegate in turn, until each cast their own eyes away from his. Though she and Dante held each other's gaze for a good long time, eventually, so did Erzsebet. She was interested to see Nos hug Dante like a brother or close friend, but before she could think too much on the subject, he was speaking. Saying nothing, the Callisdrunian merely listened intently to the back and forth discussion between the feared leader and her neighbor, Azzan. Her eyes opened a bit wider when the subject of weapons came up, but aside from that she made no display of emotion. Until, of course, Azzan responded to Dante's query by naming all those who were armed among the delegates, including both himself, and unfortunately herself. She displayed no emotion, but inside she was screaming.

Alex, the first of those named as having a weapon, was taken out by guards, followed by Dante. All sitting at the table cringed, including Erzsebet a bit, when they heard the gunshot. Am I going to die here? she asked herself, aware that suddenly this seemed the most likely outcome. But then, as soon she had been absorbed in thoughts of her impending doom, back in walked Dante... and Alex. Not the guard, though. Amazingly, Dante handed Alex back his gun, and resumed his discussion with the man from Anceltierre.

He asked her for her axe, but got distracted by the revelation of Azzan's that there were not only good nanotechnology, but engineered nightmares, that he'd hinted at earlier. Soon, one of the hooded figures had joined in the discussion, and she, the voice was feminine, as were the hands, had nearly killed Alex for reasons Erzsebet could not discern, but that were soon explained. The woman was revealed to be none other than Levia, who she had encountered earlier, back in the Dictatorship. By now, Dante seemed to have forgotten all about her axe, but Erzsebet knew that he had not, that hoping he had forgotten that she possessed a deadly weapon was a coward's choice, and a fool's wish as well. He would get back to her, he wasn't stupid. So she steadied herself and resolved to settle the issue herself, if necessary, die like the noble wolf, rather than cower in fear like the timid lamb. Somehow, though, despite his ruthlessness, it seemed to her that he wasn't without a sense of honor. He loved his people, for one, and she had seen first hand that he was a more complex individual than simply an iron fisted military dictator. "About my axe, Sir," the vampiress said, hissing only in the background of her steady voice, "I suppose I am not in much of a position to bargain, but I will relinquish my axe, if it will be returned, either to me, or if I am dead, to the Sorvik clan in Callisdrun." Though he was holding all the cards, Dante could probably tell that the steel weapon Erzsebet carried was more than merely a hunk of sharpened metal. She looked up, her large eyes wide, their emerald seeming almost to glow, awaiting his response.

Dante turned his attention back to Erzsebet, who had bravely spoken to him, she had courage. His eyes again met her's and held them for a long time as he too briefly replayed their encounter. It was evident from that encounter that Erzsebet had placed a great deal into her clan and that she would die protecting them and their name.

"Erzsebet, dear Erzsebet, can I call you that?" Dante asked before continuing, "Do you trust me? I'll need to see your axe without my word that it'll be returned. Can you give up what means the most to you at this moment?" his voice spoke quietly to her, a deep resonanting question that echoed in the minds of all those around.

He knew she would see what he was asking, their shared moment gave her a chance to see into his world for a brief moment.....to know the anguish and misery he faced. He only hoped she would read the hidden meaning, be able to decipher this was a game of puppets and each one hand a part to play, and now it was her turn.

"Yes, you can call me Erzsebet," the vampiress said, "I like the name my mother, and father of course, gave me." Moroii clans tended to be matriarchal, Callisdrunian vampires traced their names through their mothers, as it was custom for the husband, rather than the wife, to change his name and move in with his spouse's family. Clans revolved around mothers and grandmothers, as most moroii moved back into their clan's ancestral residence, most times a large castle with living space shared in common, when they had children. Hence why Erzsebet had said mother first, and added that her father had also helped choose her name, which he in fact had, when she realized that the normal way to talk about things for her was not necessarily normal in Whitecastle. She didn't know their customs.

The Callisdrunian held Dante's gaze for a long time. Did she trust him? It was impossible for anyone but the man himself to know, as only he was looking directly into her eyes. They had a certain intensity, not just the usual burning, but if one knew how to read what could be said merely with eyes, one could tell that there were things that mattered to Erzsebet more than her own life. Whether or not she had the capability of affecting anything for their sake, one could see all too clearly her course of action should they were threatened. Erzsebet was not enough of a plotter to be truly ruthless, but for clan loyalty, any vampire could be ferocious.

"All right," she finally said, quietly. Already gripping her axe, as she had since the situation had first turned tense, the vampiress withdrew the weapon from its resting place on her belt, and turned it so that the handle was towards Dante. It was such a dark grey that it was nearly black, and though from a distance it looked plain, one could see up close that it was scribed with tiny designs, twisting their way around the handle and onto the back of the elegantly (if such a word could ever be applied to an axe) curved blades themselves. Many were abstract, but some were clearly roses, with thorns. Though most times axes were ceremonial now, this one was clearly, in the right hands, quite deadly, judging from the obvious sharpness of the blades.

Alec and the others watched the drama unfold, first between Dante and Azzan, then with Dante and Alex, and back to Dante and Azzan. He can already tell there was apparently much history between Dante and Alex. For a moment, after the gunshot, he was as expecting as everyone else, that Dante shot Alex, not the guard. He really never imagined how Dante could not be considered a dictator and still be a crazy bastard like this.

It was no surprise that Azzan had a weaponsed version of his "miracles." He expected Azzan to have some sort of failsafe device, in case it indeed fall into the wrong hands. The incident with the hooded woman, also got the Govindians further confused with all the people from The Reich.

There had been much going on between Dante's nation and The Reich, and within The Reich itself, during this war. What exactly occurred, they will not really know, outside from what's been told to him and what he is able to read.

Alec watched as Azzan seemed to accept Dante's offer, and Erzsebet made a response to Dante about her axe, and her nation. Alec sat back and put a hand to his chin, paying attention to what was being said, not saying anything.

Dante held Erzsebet's beloved axe in his hands loosely, mesmorized by the intrinsic details worked into it. Running his finger along the blade, he noted that it was indeed sharp and subsequently quite dangerous if utilized to kill. A sudden impulse overtook him as he wanted desperately to hurtle the axe behind him at the strategic place Code Six stood. He suppressed the urge and turned the blade over to indicate to others that he was thoroughly analyizing the weapon, although he had little interest in the weapon. His only interest lay in his deep set hatred of being a pawn in this game Code Six was playing. He regretted never having killed the man.

Handing the axe backward toward the guard nearest him, it was rightfully returned to Erzsebet. "Alex has been instructed to shoot you if you intended to use your axe as a weapon against us and he is well aware that I intend for you to behead him should he decide to use his weapon," Dante spoke lazily, seemingly uninterested in the dynamics of this charade.

Finding the necessities covered, Dante stretched, fighting the urge to wince as a sudden intense pain gripped its cold icy fingers around his right side. He showed no indication that he was still in pain, but Erzsebet might have been able to see the subtle shift in his eyes as his focus went inward to suppress the pain....afterall, she had seen in intense pain just the previous night. He let out a sharp breath and stood up, making it a fluid motion as if that was all he intended to do, stretch.

He looked around the table, noting that Lux still carried an appalled look of disgust on her face. It was then that he realized that he still had the blood on him. Whispering something to a nearby guard who ran off into the darkness of the room, he began to pace the length of the table, stopping near random ambassadors as he did so.

"What other issues do you have to bring to the table?" he asked, making contact with Azzan's eyes. Saying nothing, he made a small hand gesture as if writing with a pen, indicating that he wished Azzan to take notes of what he felt was imperative.

Stopping before Alec's seat, Dante rested his hands on the back of the chair, supporting his weight onto the back of the chair as he overlooked Alec to face the other ambassadors. Pressing his weight into the chair, it inched forward slightly, as the cape drawn over his shoulder fell foward slightly, brushing against Alec's left arm.

Azzan shook his head, then indicated his own head to show he took notes mentally. It was an old habit he had developed since his time in the schools of Anceltierre, back then it prevented people from copying his work, now it'd serve the purpose of keeping records away from prying eyes. After nodding to Dante he watched with a certain rapt attention as Dante loomed over Alec, looking like a Condor above it's prey. Azzan smirked, that just may be what was happening- one couldn't be sure when it came to Dante.

OOC: Removal for further improvement.

Alec felt the back of his chair pressed into him as he looked up and saw Dante leaning into the chair. Dante seemed heavily looming over Alec, as if trying to intimidate him. Alec simply took his chair and scooted in a bit forward to try and be able to be more comfortable in his seat.

Dmitriy looked up at Dante as he approached the chair and smiled. "Hello," he simply said. He watched how Dante handled the axe. Such an elegant weapon, for a less civilised age. Not as clumsy as a handgun or an assault rifle. In the hands of a vampyre like the Callisdrunian admiral, he thought it would be a deadly weapon.

Alec looked up and smiled also at Dante. Hopefully that outside of Dante's perceived ruthlessness, he really was also a decent person deep inside.

Supporting his weight onto Alec's chair, he slid with the chair as Alec pulled it in. Almost graceful in the way he moved with the chair, Dante continued to lean against it as Alec pinned himself against the table top and his chair arms.

Dante grinned, content with Alec's response. "Check mate," he said, stepping back and patting Alec on the shoulder, hoping to indicate that in the future Alec had better contemplate his actions. Being pinned with Dante as your opponent was never a wise decision.

Looking up to Azzan, Dante again made a scrawling motion with his hand is if indicating he wished Azzan to take notes, but this time he matched the motion with an angry flare of his eyes, as if telling Azzan just take the notes.

Walking around the table, Dante slowed as he looked over each ambassador's shoulder before stopping at Sir Leigh. Resting his weight onto Sir Leigh's chair, he looked over to the other ambassadors. "Are there no other proposals to be brought to the table at this time?" Dante asked, his deep voice sounding menancing given the atmosphere of the room.

Dante looked down on the unresponsive ambassador, who seemed either too nervous or unsure to give Dante's presence a response. Grinning contently, he pushed back from the chair and proceeded around the table to complete a full circle where he stood before his seat, an ornate glass basin of water placed in front of it during his prowl.

Removing his gloves, he dipped his hands into the water, cupping them to capture the water. He watched intently as he removed his hands, the water dripping from them back into the basin with a light splashing sound. He leaned forward and submerged his face into his cupped hands, feeling the ice cold liquid revive his senses. They remembered, the thought satisified him as he was proud his soldiers have not forgotten his preferences. Washing the blood splatter off his face, he reached beside the basin and felt around for the soft fabric cloth. Drying his face, he looked up, stared at Lux who smiled appreciatively to him, thankful that he respected her unease and washed off the blood.

He looked down into the faintly red tinted water with specks of red floating in it before grabbing his black gloves and motioning the removal of the basin. Beginning his prowl again, he stopped before Azzan's chair and placed his ungloved right hand on the back of the chair, inches from Azzan's head, the scared and previously deformed hand an ominious figure in contrast with Azzan's unmarked face.

The little light reflected off Azzan's glasses, giving an almost malicious quality to this duet of darkness. His eyes planted themselves on Lux, as he seemed to stare into her soul, searching for some hidden secret that lay beneath, "Youth is a magnificent stage of our lives, would you agree Azzan?"

Azzan responded a nod, and with a confident voice, a simple "yes."

"What defines youth?" his voice came out dark, questioning, as if the answer was not that simple, as he looked around the table, waiting for anyone to respond, his eyes locking back on Lux, searching for that hidden secret.

[Red Queen Interception- Relay from Callisdriun ship to Callisdrun mainland]


"In route to Callisdrun.....enemy plane crash landed.....Genocide aboard.....over."

Azzan shifted, only slightly phased by the figure over head noticing the focus of Dante's attention really wasn't on him- he responded anyway in a slow and purposeful answer, "A lack of experience in living... some might call it naivety, others may say it's innocence. I say it's time to be remembered fondly but not to be yearned for." Azzan silently pushed up his glasses, the lenses becoming transparent and his blue eyes peircing forward only to fall to a gentle wave as his expression tried to send some comfort to Lux. Then the light once again formed an opaque shield between the world and his ever examining eyes.

He spoke again then, "Eternal youth is a fools errand, one cannot exile himself from experience... however, slowing the aging process to a near stand still is not- and I think that may be achievable if it has not already been achieved" With that he coughed to signal that he was done speaking for the moment.

"That may be so," Alec replied to Azzan, "However, some may feel that youth may be the ability to do what feels best and feels good for you, as long as you have the ability to keep it going. Call it nihilism, others may consider it living life to the fullest. People don't want to feel old, as they feel it makes them inferior, as if they cannot do things as good as they once were." He smiled. "Everyone though, will have their own definition of what defines youth. For me, I think it means moving forward without trying to harp on the past, until you can move forward no longer at the pace you wish to."

"I don't think that I agree with Alec," spoke Erzsebet very softly. Contrary her normal body language, she was not looking anyone in the eyes, now, instead looking down almost at her lap. "Youth... is both physical and mental or emotional..." the vampiress began again. "They say that time heals all wounds, but not cleanly, not as if they had never been made. I have heard the saying reversed... Time Wounds All Heels." She paused, looking back up again, her gaze shifting from person to person. "The ravages of time wear down both the physical and emotional, mental self. My kind are said to age well, meaning that our looks don't deteriorate much, that we are attractive even into old age, we're not bad on the eyes even on our deathbeds." Erzsebet chuckled. "But though I'll still look young ten or twenty years from now, should I live that long, my youth is long gone, due not to life scarring my body," she looked at Dante for an instant, catching his eyes before looking away and continuing, "but due to the wear and tear on my soul, if you want to call it that."

Apparently, that was her conclusion, as the Callisdrunian said no more after this. Inside, her mind was now partially considering the question of youth, but also partially returning to thinking about the situation at hand. It was good to have her axe back. She had suspected that Dante would merely look at it and give it back. The cold metal felt good in her hands, before she had returned it to her belt. Erzsebet had not, though, suspected the condition Dante would place upon her staying armed. Could she refuse to go after Alex if he were to try to use his gun? Possibly, but that would be a betrayal of trust, she supposed. However, her chances of stopping Alex if he really wanted to use the gun were slim, though she was good with her weapon. It was possible to throw it, but the only thing about throwing the axe was it had a fairly slow speed in air (she'd done it before), as it was not built for throwing. And if she missed, the vampiress would be down range and unarmed. Well, as much as a vampire is ever unarmed, as she'd still have her fangs, but those weren't much good when an opponent wasn't quite near. It would be best, naturally, if she didn't have to try to stop Alex from killing Dante.

Dante's eyes traveled up to the darkened area of the room Alex disappeared into, before turning his eyes back to the ambassador, "By your definitions, do you consider the young Ruhumunah, Alex, to be a youth?"

Azzan was the first to respond, seeming to have already perceived the question, "No, he's young but his youth has been torn away by the responsibility that has held a great burden on him."

Alec proceeded Azzan's response, also not hesitating with a response. "Yes, I consider him to be a youth," Alec spoke, looking up to meet Dante's ever so subtle gaze.

Erzsebet pondered the question some, peering down to the empty chair at the end of the table, the papers with quick notes spread out in an almost organized disarray. Her mind encaptured the essence of Alex and her thoughts traveled back to the brief moments they shared in Stadt des Meeres. "Despite his age, I do not think he's a youth....he has endured many experiences in his short life time," she added, her voice with that hint of a hiss behind the words, giving her voice a supernal beaty.

Dante nodded to them all and brought his eyes to Lux, the delicate and fragile beauty, her soft features like blown glass, the slightest hard touch threatening to shatter her. "My dear.....are you a youth?" he asked, looking over her innocent features and almost pure angelic quality.

"If living in a world of ideas and naivette is youth, I am," her voice spoke softly, not pretending to hide her ignorance of the cruelty and bloodshed this war has brought forth.

Dante removed his marred hand from Azzan's chair and continued to pace, his eyes now looking onto Erzsebet....remembering their encounter that nearly sent him backwards through a window. "Am I a youth?" he asked them all again, pacing slowly around the table.

20 nautical miles from Callisdrun's coast

The Alfheim and her companions surged forward, toward the entrance to Drunfjord. During her voyage, the ship had been battered by several storms, with increasing frequency as the small flotilla headed north, towards their home port in Callisdrun. They could have docked in the capital city of Callisdrin about a day or two earlier (it was impossible to tell, as a storm had hit them and slowed their progress around that time), but as all the ships in the little company were of the First Cruiser Squadron, and so their home port was Drun, not Callisdrin, and Captain Maydat wanted to dock at the familiar city, where many members of the crews had friends and some family. Land had been sighted two hours ago and the coastline was steadily getting more clear and obvious to onlookers. It was probable by now that the ships were visible to those on the shore. Rowan Maydat stood on the bridge, arms folded beneath her breasts, watching the oncoming coast. Her ship's aircraft had been out on patrol earlier, but now all had landed and shore based aircraft were in the skies, watching over the carrier and her escort's return.

Meanwhile, below decks, Erika (the nurse), had just finished with a patient and was now headed to the room that Genocide, as the girl was now known to be by herself and the captain, had basically made her own. As there was nowhere to run at sea, Genocide had been moved from one of the secure medical rooms to a room higher up in the ship with a porthole, so she could look outside and have the light of day come in. The room was also bigger and a bit less starkly hospital like, though she was still considered a patient, even if the main reason was that she needed to have company. Over the time spent on the voyage, Erika had gotten to know the girl fairly well, spending most of her daylight hours with the child (after Genocide was put to bed, she used her little remaining free time to socialize with friends, often in the mess hall). They passed the hours talking, sometimes watching movies, many of which Erika had to translate while they were watching them, which was a challenge, sometimes Erika would read to the girl, translating from the more appropriate of her books, something she had gotten better at.

"Hello," she said cheerfully upon her entrance into the room. "We're within sight of land now, do you want to go outside and watch while we come into port?"

No one spoke for a while, but then Erzsebet whispered a response. The hiss of her voice was more apparent in a whisper, though it did not make it hostile sounding, nor did it cloud her words. "No... you are not an old man, but you are no inexperienced youth."

She then considered Lux's words. Even in youth, naive was something Erzsebet hadn't been. Perhaps it was so partly because of her race. Having to feed on human blood, perhaps brought in a different dynamic. Her life depended and was interwoven from the start with violence, though consensual. Even with the donor's assent, to survive, she had to inflict bodily damage on another human being. It was her instinct as well, to be predatory.

And then, of course, there was Callisdrun's culture. All men and women knew how to kill in battle at least by age 24. Military service was mandatory. And because of the continued presence of unstable, lawless Altar Rang on the border and the factions therein that Callisdrun sought to keep a check on, often there were real life and death situations. Erzsebet had first killed when she was just under 18, though it wasn't close up and personal. She knew that war was death, but also... she knew that even so, she was much more naive than Dante.

Genocide perked up, having grown very tired of the steady life on a sea. She had grown fond of Erika since being on the ship and whenever Erika came, she felt happy and excited, knowing boredom was no longer an issue. "May I!?" she jumped up excitedly, grabbing for her coat that was left in the room. The coat was one of the male crew who was accustomed to working on the decks in the frigid Callisdrun winters and was heavily lined to provide warmth for such a small child. He had not seemed to mind "donating" his coat as after some time aboard the ship everyone seemed to become friends, a family, a cohesive group working together in a common goal despite where they came from.

Genocide spent her time with Erika reading and watching movies....books were her favorite. The strange symbols and language impressed her as she learned them quickly, beginning to speak even amongst the crew in their native tongue, still slightly oblivious to the foreign uttered curses and flirtations among some of the crew.

"Erika?" Genocide asked while sliding on the coat that was rather large for her small frame, "will I ever go home?" she asked solemnly, a thought that drifted between sadness and happiness, longing and appreciation. She wanted to go home, she loved Mahanoy, but she hated Master....Master was getting angry over the past months and more violent. "I miss Novac," she whispered, remembering the father like guard who would read to her at nights back in Mahanoy, just as Erika had now done for Genocide in the day. He was not allowed to come with her to The Reich, which were her child's mind capable of understanding, was the best for him as death accompanied all who attended Genocide on her plane.

She grabbed Erika's hand and walked out to the deck in silence as Erika thought about her response. Land was indeed much closer as they neared docking, but it was becoming distant in a cascade of white flurries.

"Snow?" Genocide asked, her eyes widening in delight. She had never seen snow but many books they read about Callisdrun talked of white flakes of cold water that fell from the skies. He released Erika's hand and ran, dancing wildly in it, sticking her tongue out to catch a flake as she spun in circles. "Try it Erika! Get one on your tongue!"

Having slipped in unnoticed, Code Six took his place behind Dante's seat. He stood silently with the others, unseen in the background, just black figures against a black wall. His arm was tied up now in a black cloth, the fingers dangling loosely as if the arm were a severed piece of dead flesh.

Dante went on as planned, but his proposal to Azzan was uncharacteristic. "Damm him," Code Six thought as he watched Dante suddenly slip in his predator mode, pacing the table, stopping before selected ambassadors. It was then that Code Six realized he marked them, a subtle indication of who to keep a close eye on should the summit take a turn for the worst. He liked Dante's style, always so subtle, unpredictable. Every move a fluid motion that ended up in the utter disaster he had planned....he was a fine artist, painting his masterpiece. Had Code Six been capable of understanding fear, it would have done him good now, but his thoughts were too rational and analytical and Dante was just another subject to be tested, observed, monitored, played.

Code Six watched as Dante began his predatory stalking....he was a true predator, subtle, seemingly uninterested in a kill, yet always ever vigiliantly watching his prey. Who was his prey? Code Six briefly wondered, knowing that the marked ones were not necessary the ones he hunted.

"What's he doing?" whispered itself in Code Six's head, but Code Six disregarded it to watch Dante closely. He was moving, stopping only briefly and now dawning his black gloves again. The ungloved hand was a symbol, but Code Six still had trouble placing the specific meaning Dante had in mind.

Dmitriy pondered that question for a moment. This Dante had his moments, but he was nevertheless an interesting fellow. Very thoughtful so far in his actions, yet cunning and mysterious in his own way. Dmitriy smiled. Dante reminded him of how he used to act during the September Punjabi Crisis, when he first became External Affairs Minister. "I do not think you are young, Dante," he said. "Though I like you all more the same so far from what I have seen."

Alec meanwhile, grinned briefly at Dmitriy while he sat back in his seat and thought about the question slightly more before responding. "Partly Dante. I feel that you still have youth in your spirit, while physically speaking you are not a youth, " he said and shrugged, "but that's just my opinion."

Dante dawned his gloves again as he paced around the table, covering the scar marked hands of his more recent exertions. The moments in Mahanoy drifted back in waves, a disconnected fog in his mind. He remembered his fist connecting with the glass, shattering his hand in the process, that small child who was supposedly his daughter staring back with terror in her eyes.

He closed his eyes, washing away the memory, forcing it back to where it came from. He needed his mind clear as he slowly paced around the table again.

"No further proposals?" he asked again, his eyes traveling along the tables to the ambassadors.

Lex turned slightly in his chair to meet Dante's new position. He felt timid compared to the others here who seemed to only somewhat fear Dante. Most were either very well at masking their emotions or extremely naive to not be terrified in the presence of this beast. Then again......he had witnessed the war from a perspective no other had. He was the last voice of a necessary topic which had almost all too conveniently been forgotten in the midst of the war.

He swallowed hard, finding it exceeding difficult to form his thoughts into words. Here before him was a man he was most terrified of, even after the true horrors he had witnessed. "I have an imperative issue that needs to be discussed," his voice cracked from the many long years of disuse.

Parting his cloak, he removed a shoulder pack that had clearly seen better days. Opening it, he rummaged through the contents until he produced a folder that contained a large brown mark in the center, appearing to be long since dried blood. With shaking hands, he placed the folder on the table, setting the pack on his lap, as he fought to keep control of his nervousness.

"As some of you know, my name is Lex. Before I tell you my news, I would like to tell my story.....just once. Someone needs to know it or else the lives we lost would be for nothing."

Lex looked around the room, meeting several assuring nods from the ambassadors as they prompted him to continue. Taking a few deep breaths, he looked down at the folder, unable to look into the eyes of his attentive listeners.

"You see.....many years ago, we were attacked. The attack was so sudden that we had to rely on dangerous decisions for a fast and sufficient counter assault. It was a deadly game both sides played and both sides wanted to inflict the most damage by the quickest and deadliest means they could to prove to each other that they were the most formidable force. It was a dick measuring contest between national leaders whose people were the price paid for such a foolish game.

"Many speak of the effects of war in this region. Many speak of loss and hurt and pain. They have seen bloodshed and have witnessed precious lives taken before their eyes. But I say to them you have only seen the horrors of the battlefield. When those battles are over, the survivors go home, the bodies to shallow graves, and that is the end of the situation until the next time you meet again.

"None of you have walked through the valley of the shadow of death. I came from that valley to tell you what is in it in hopes that no one will again have to do what I did," Lex stammered, a wave of mixed emotions surfacing as he fished through his bag to withdraw a journal; the pages thoroughly read several times.

"This is the life of Hannah. Her story kept me going. She was one of the reasons I swore that I would make it back to tell our story. You see, Hannah recorded the war as a child, from the most innocent of perspectives.

"That is not all," Lex continued, fishing out a series of black bond books. "These are the logs of our experiences. After about a month into our expedition we stopped writing the hard facts....they did little to describe what we saw. At first we only saw the last remnants of a family's happy life; remains of a prepared dinner never to be eaten, bath tubs of stagnant water never to be bathed in, books opened never to be read, you name it. We lost our first man in a building collapse. He fell through and broke his back. He was the first one to go. After about month three, we ran out of food which could not have been anticipated as we did not take into account that the food we did happen to find would be inedible. Our best man became a burden to our starving bodies. We all decided it was best and I took his life peacefully at his consent. He was our first real dinner in months. After him, it became easier, a necessity as our starved bodies demanded food. Whoever fell was our next meal. We trudged endlessly, analyzing and surveying the remnants we found.

"As we progressed inward into the nation we found the corpses of the unfortunate ones. We found countless bodies strewn across yards, homes, businesses. My l..my l...my love was one of them," he whispered with tears in his eyes as he brought out the heart pendant from the bag, a rare Reich crystal worth ten times that of a diamond. He clutched the pendent to his heart, knowing he had to continue.

"We found dead pets. Dead animals. Carnage everywhere. It was as if life just dropped dead and decay itself was slowed in the process. Some of the bodies were rotted beyond recognition and some were oddly unscathed despite many years of decay. It was the strangest part of our expedition....a natural preservative that came out of The Dictatorship. We found those families who refused evacuation. We found children in withered balls, some with their faces the same expression since the moment they died. What we saw was agony. Not fear....agony. Intense pain and agony.

"This war that you all so proudly fought in. This war that you all invested so much in has left life for millions crippled. You never see this side of war during the war and none of you have chanced the journey that we did....to see war from the side of those who suffer it the most. Maybe you should think about that during this summit," Lex found himself growing angry.

"But what I came here today to tell you is that you are contaminated. XGN T2 poisoning still infects The Dictatorship. All our samples came back positive. Years later and it hasn't gone anywhere, it's infected the water, the soil, even the air still. Your damn prototype is a disaster and it's what keeps The Dictatorship a desolate wasteland even today. Anyone who has been to The Dictatorship has been exposed. If you breathed it in, it is too small of quantities to do the immediately devastating effects that it is known for, but it's there, and it's no less wreaking it's own havoc on you. It why you are so young Dante….so youthful" Lex said, finding the courage to finally face his enemy, "it acts as a preservative somehow. I'm sure you noticed you haven't aged a day since you declared this war. For someone in your position, you should be grey and crumpled over or dead."

Dante made no response as he stared at Lex....the man surely had a compelling story.

Humoring the Child's enthusiasm for something quite new to her, Erika stuck out her tongue and tried to catch a snowflake on it. It was harder than it looked, but eventually she succeeded. "Snow can be a lot of fun," she said, "except when you have to shovel it." At this she made a pretend pouting face, at which Genocide laughed. They were on the part of the deck near on the fringe of the superstructure, just below the bridge. This was often the place Erika would take the girl, as though it was outside, their backs were to a solid wall, and they had a lower steel wall in front that, while low enough to see clearly over, was high enough so that there was no thought of falling off. It had a safe feeling about it.

In the distance, though getting closer quite rapidly (Captain Maydat had taken the fleet up to three quarters speed, and would slow down when about to enter the fjord), loomed the coast of northern Callisdrun, in all its wild winter beauty. Steep mountains, covered in snow seemed to rise up out of the sea, in many places cliffs dropped right down into the frigid waters below. The coastline was dotted with small inlets and bays, some of them looked treacherous to attempt to navigate, some did not.

If the child looked up, she could see that Erika was grinning. It had been a very long time since the woman had seen the shores of her native land. For some of the crew, it brought tears to their eyes to finally gaze upon the land of their birth. It was as if they were exiles finally returned. Indeed, somewhere a female crew member had begun singing the sorrowful, haunting melody of "The Exile's Lament," and soon other crew members joined in, until there was a veritable chorus. At this, Erika did cry, the tears slowly coming down her cheek, her voice too unsteady to sing very loudly. After the song's conclusion, there was a brief moment of silence, before anyone dared utter a word. All that could be heard was the low hum the ship's engines in the background, the splash of the waves, the whisper of the wind and the piercing calls of the sea birds. Finally, someone did say something, in fact, one of the male crew members broke into the strains of a much more cheerful folk song, some of the others joined in, singing as they worked. Erika pondered Genocide's earlier question. Will she get to go home? With who she is and all... the nurse wondered. But then, Genocide was a child, and even if she had been exposed to some things most children had not, Callisdrunian authorities were not cruel, though sometimes strict. This was a special circumstance. "You'll get to go home, in time," she said reassuringly. "Perhaps it will be something like this, but for you, when you do."

By now, they were slowing, as they had entered the largest of the inlets, a channel that was very wide indeed, easily accommodating their small flotilla. Cliffs and mountains made up either side of the long fjord, thickly forested with snow covered trees where vegetation could grow, bare granite where it couldn't. The channel was long, and they couldn't go fast, so it took the better part of an hour to navigate. Along the sides, at some parts, there were isolated houses, sometimes clumps of them. They were durable, squat little structures, yet, charming in their simplicity. Eventually, a large castle came into view, which Erika pointed out. "That's the ancient home of the Novikas clan," she said matter-of-fact-ly. This was at a turn in the fjord, and once around it, the great city of Drun came into view, with a much more immense castle up on one hill, mountain rather, occupying the entire rise, and three enormous looking structures atop another mount, slightly closer and nearer to the center of the large city that lay spread beneath the mountains. Away from the two hills, skyscrapers towered above the rest of the city, their spires decorative and intricate, even from this distance. The city itself was quite large, but at the same time, comfortable looking, the houses, even with their rooftops covered in snow, looked warm and inviting. The ships were headed towards the city's gigantic harbor, to a section that stood a little by itself, with military-looking ships anchored near it. Erika was beaming now, obviously overjoyed.

Alec dropped his jaw as he heard the news. "My God," he said, shocked. "I am so sorry. I had no idea what you went through sir. That....iiisss....very disturbing. " He was starting to breathe heavily and have a panic attack. This was not the first time he had heard, even seen such horrors of war, though not on the scale that Lex witnessed.

He remembered the betrayal in Rawalpindi during the Unification War, the harsh reaction he had to his closest friend, his General who betrayed him. The General could not even look at him because he knew how guilty he was, and when Alec found out, the reaction was not a positive one. It was why he got mad at the Whitecastleian general, when he refused to look at him.

Dmitriy held him and pushed him back against his seat. "Breathe, Mr. President," he told Alec. Slowly Alec began to take deep breaths and began to slowly return to normal. Meanwhile, Rajay sat up straight in his chair, stiff-lipped, appearing colder than before. He knew all too familiar the horrors of such wars, took part in them, even sanctioned such orders, though it was vastly different compared to what Lex had just described. He clasped his hands and looked at the scarred hooded Reich member. "My apologies about your loss," he said to him. "You have my condolences. I'm not too familiar with this biological weapon, but surely Azzan's miracle technology could cure it, could it not? What else can you tell us about this XGN T2? "

Azzan listened to lex and felt his insides go cold, he saw with Lex's eyes the horrors of the war, he knew instantly why this summit must succeed. Azzan sniffed at the mention of his nanos, the fact that he could try to cure them didn't mean he should. XGN was still very unknown to him and the nanos could possibly end up upsetting the very nature of what kept Dante and others exposed to the chemical alive- Azzan, smirked and replied to the Govindian, "Although I am deeply startled, shocked and appalled by the news Lex brings us, I will not use the nanos in an unkown situaution in which they could possibly cause more harm as opposed to good that could come from their use." Azzan shuffled in his chair and looked around the table, noting the reactions that Lex had drawn aswell as his own pronouncement of not trying to interfere with the current concoction that kept Dante and the like alive while at the same time killing them slowly.

The stillness in the room after Lex had told of his experiences was almost suffocating. Unlike the Govindian, and then Azzan in response, Erzsebet did not break it with speech. Instead, the vampiress remained silent, choosing to say not a thing. What could she say? What possible words were there to follow tidings of such terrible things? Nothing in the world that she could say would make it better, make it go away, absolve her or anyone who had willingly participated in the war of responsibility for what it left in once happy, once thriving nations. True, she could apologize, but any apology she gave would be woefully inadequate. Yes, she felt bad. Everyone felt bad, except of course for all the people who, thanks to the war, no longer felt anything at all, at least not in this world. A statement could not bring them back, restore them to the lives that, prior to the war, they had been living, going about their business in peace. Since what was needed, and what she felt, she couldn't be formed in words, Erzsebet didn't say any. The Callisdrunian noted that neither did Dante.

How much effort has humanity spent trying to annihilate ourselves? she pondered silently. However much, 'twas too much. Fortune, power, and lives had all been bent countless time towards the destruction of fortune, power and lives. Often for no larger purpose, conflict indistinguishable from two packs of wolves fighting over a patch of dirt, just with more on each side and better ways of killing those on the other side. And, as Lex had clearly demonstrated, the ones who suffered most were the innocent. Erzsebet looked down into her lap, feeling too guilty to look Lex in the eyes. Only a vestige of dignity prevented her from trying to sink into her seat.

Genocide stared in amazement as the city grew closer. The sad song sung by the crew members did not make much sense to her young brain. What was so sad about going home? She continued her play in the snow, falling to the deck and staring up at the spiraling shapes the wind blown snow made.

Laughter filled her head, a young woman and an elderly woman. Genocide sat up, "what?" she asked Erika, concerned curious about thought that Erika was laughing with someone. But Erika was still standing quietly staring at the city that spread out before them as they made a rather dangerous pass into the docks.

When Erika looked down at her with concern in her eyes, she realized that she was the only one hearing the laughter. A thought came slowly to her, Icelantic.

"Erika, where is Icelantic?" she asked, scrambling to her feet, the oversized coat covering her body, her dark raven's locks dangling loosely, to look at the expecting families that were informed of the arriving ship.

"Icelantic?" Erika said, turning the word over in her head. "It's far to the east of here, beyond Altar Reng," she answered. "You can't get there by sea, which is why it takes a long time to get there from Callisdrun, because you have to go around Altar Reng."

As they slowed, men and women onshore got ropes ready to tie the ship up to the dock. Apparently, the small flotilla arriving in port was a bit of a surprise, since the rest of the squadron was still out at sea. Naturally, none knew of the reason for the early arrival by these few ships. Not to say that the naval base was completely empty though, as there were several obvious warships as well as navy owned merchant vessels at anchor in the harbor, and two at the dockside. Almost all, however, were a much lighter shade of grey than the near-black color that Alfheim and her escorts, all part of First Cruiser Squadron, were painted.

Inland from the piers, were many warehouses and several other large buildings. More distant were barracks, all simple structures but with the subtle attention to detail and sense characteristic of Callisdrunian architecture, their pitched roofs, covered with snow, making neat lines across the base. In the distance were hangars and runways used by shore-based naval aircraft. A few of the piers were covered, but not the one their ship was now being tied up to. Large cranes moved a huge grouping of pipes to the ship to be connected somewhere within it. It was fairly noisy, but in a distant sort of way. Gangplanks (by now a bit of a misnomer for the large metal staircases and ramps that were used now, but the name had stuck) were being wheeled over to the ship's side.

Just then, a sailor appeared. "Nurse Isdal?" he asked.

"Yes, that's me," Erika replied, a little surprised. "What is it?"

"The captain said she wanted you to report to her on the bridge, before we disembark," he said matter-of-factly.

"All right, I'll go on up then." Then, taking Genocide's hand, Erika said "We're going inside for a bit, I have to talk to the captain," as she led the girl along. Inside, they went up a few levels to the bridge.

The fiery haired Captain Rowan Maydat was watching the proceedings of the docking routine from the windows. She looked over when Erika entered. The nurse saluted, and the captain saluted her back and then said "At ease, Isdal." She then whispered something to Erika and then Erika turned to the girl. "Captain Maydat and I are going to talk for a little while. She said you can sit in the captain's chair and look at what's going on until we get back. We won't be long, I promise." The child didn't look particularly pleased with this, but nonetheless nodded.

Taking the nurse out on one of the balconies, Rowan waited a minute before speaking. "Orders have come from higher up concerning her. From your reports, apparently they've decided that her emotional state is fragile."

Erika nodded, not sure where the captain was going with this line of thought.

The captain continued. "As you're aware, I'm sure, the girl is no ordinary prisoner of war. First of all, she's a child, and secondly, she is Genocide. As you can imagine, her welfare is very important to our government."

"Yes, of course," the nurse said, still unsure of what the captain was trying to tell her.

"During the voyage back home, you remained a sort of companion for her, which was a very important duty considering the unique circumstances. It seems that you have grown to genuinely care about the child as well, seeing as I'm told that you spend most of your free time with her."

What in the name of Tyr is going on? Erika couldn't help thinking. "Yes, that is true. I hated her at first, but now I like her a lot. I guess we just understand each other better now."

It was the captain's turn to nod, it seemed. "I have recommended, per your consent, that you continue in this role on shore. Do you accept this assignment?"

Erika was shocked, she hadn't thought she had been that important, but apparently she was. "Of course," she said cheerfully. It was flattering to get a special assignment, but more than that, as they had approached their home port, she had begun thinking about how she would probably miss Genocide, miss her a lot in fact. Though, she still thought it was a weird name.

At this, the captain dropped her official tone and smiled at Erika. "Good, you know you've been really important. I was worried from your early reports." As they headed back inside, she added "Oh, your specific orders were to take her to Sorvik clan's castle immediately, and your things will be brought later today for you. Good luck."

Erika happily greeted her charge with a smile. "Guess what?" she said. "We get to go to shore right now, instead of having to wait for all the preparation to be done.

Chatting with the girl as they descended the gangplank outside, Erika was surprised to find that her car had been brought for her. It was a tiny compact thing. She ushered Genocide in and then looked back to the ship as she started the engine. It was odd, living at sea, for one didn't get a good look at the very thing one was living on for months. By the time they had arrived back home, the aircraft carrier had seemed very small, with familiarity. But now it was starting to grow again, a long slender dark shape against the sky. "Well, here we go, welcome to Callisdrun," the nurse said to the girl in the passenger seat.

Dante continued his pacing, continuously circling the table, a beast in its deadly prowl with its bloodlust gaze set upon a weakened prey. Had he not been a civilized beast, one could imagine the steady dribbling of saliva dripping from sharpened incisors as the anticipation of savoring a rare catch filled his mind. Dante's eyes locked on Lex as he continued his steady pacing around the table, never once leaving him even as he walked behind the man's chair.

Lex grew stiff as he realized Dante's eyes locked on him.....he replayed in his mind pieces of his conversation, knowing that he had let emotion cloud his better judgement. Still...he could imagine what he could have said to make him a target of Dante. Or perhaps this was the way Dante operated, constantly testing who among them could sustain themselves in his presence. He shuddered convulsively as Dante stepped behind him, fear overriding logic. His mind had imagined a deep growling behind him, the heavy breathing of an overexcited killer about to descend upon him. He closed his eyes tightly in fear, bracing for a sudden final impact that would end his life there at the table.

All he heard was the sound of Dante's shoes as the man continued pacing past his chair. He breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes, unwilling to look around the table to see if his nervousness had drawn attention towards him.....but he could feel their eyes, just as he could still feel Dante's eyes borrowing deeply into him, searching his very soul, analyzing every muscle fiber and nerve.

Dante continued around the table, coming to a stop opposite of Lex. He leaned forward on the chair before him, one of the hooded figures who remained hooded, as his eyes burned into Lex.

Dante grinned as Lex finally brought his eyes to meet his and in an instant Lex regretted having done so. He could see the burning pools of hell, the infamous inferno within Dante's eyes. Countless stories, he believed rumors, spoke of Dante's eyes....eyes so deadly they could strike down opponents. He now swallowed hard as he realized the truth behind these statements......Dante's wrath was not one to invoke, if you did not die in sheer terror of angering the man, you would surely be killed in an instant from the man's own hands as he snapped your neck with his bare hands. Fear enveloped him as he stared into Dante's eyes, the flames of hell burning behind them, giving a menacing glow to those black pits.

Dante outstretched his hand, Lex paled significantly, wincing in fear that Dante was about to shoot him or mark him for execution. However the black gloved hand stopped weaponless above the hooded figure's head....a figure who made no motion nor showed a sign of recognition of Dante's presence. His hand hooved ominiously over the head before coming down and tapping the head of the hooded figure. "Duck," his deep voice resonanted in the silent room as nervous anticipation clenched everyone's souls.

He continued to walk, placing a hand on the next ambassador's head, pausing briefly as he contemplated, "duck."

Noting Dante's body language, Code Six fully understood what was about to happen. He unholstered his weapon in a suprising ease for one arm and removed the safety. He watched closely, knowing that Dante would clearly indicate who was to die in a single word....and when uttered, his shot would be delivered with such a finality that those nearest would shudder wordlessly in terror.

Code Six watched Dante closely....it was a game to Dante. For a brief moment the idea that perhaps he was the pawn in Dante's game crossed his mind. Dante was a brilliant mastermind capable of turning a situation around to his favor so subtly that you were practically serving him bon bons on a silver platter before you realized he had been playing you. But the thought was pushed aside abruptly when he realized that he had so intently thought about the possibly that he transmitted concern to the others who began to shift nervously as they glanced his way for some sort of confirmation.

Standing there cold and apathetic as he watched the scene unfold, the unnerving feeling among the other Reich Freedom Fighters began to settle. They sought solice in his unwavering lack of emotion and his unbudging stance....an unconscious symbol of the structure which grounded their organization....a fearless need to do whatever was needed by whichever means possible.

Dante continued to pace, obviously unaware or ignoring the brief flutter of unease among The Reich Freedom Fighters. They could not be sure if the equipment was flawed or if Dante had found a way to block off the intrusive thoughts so Code Six made a mental note to take a break in the conference in order to test Dante before going to deep into imperative matters.

"Duck," the silence was broken as Dante passed around the bend of the table and tapped another ambassador on the head. He held out his outstretched hand as he passed over to Richard and tapped him on the head as the words simultaneously slipped from his mouth, "Goose."

He stepped a few paces away from the chair, waiting patiently for Richard to move. His mouth parted to reveal that half grin that partially revealed his teeth. "You know the game," he spoke in a matter of fact tone.

Richard pushed the chair back and rose slowly, fear and dread spreading across his face, as horror took over him. He paled as he waited for what Dante was planning, not knowing if he should run or play along. Figuring there was no place to run he was about to chase after Dante when fear gripped him as he for a moment caught a glimpse of the shadowy figure facing him in the far depths of the darkened room, the man's arm done up with a sling. Code Six his mind screamed in terror, knowing now why Dante was here.

NO he mouthed the silent words as he caught a final glimpse of the raging inferno behind Dante's eyes who stared deeply into his own. Richard's head shot back angerly, snapping his neck with such force, as his body instantly slumped to its feet, hitting his head off the table top before collapsing in pile between his chair and the table. The silent shot made a slight puff sound, like someone squeezing off a particularly nasty fart. A splatter of blood sprayed the seat back and Dante seemed somewhat disappointed that he was not within splatter range.

Paying little regard for the life he just ordered dead, Dante turned back to the ambassadors and began pacing to the next seat. "Duck," he spoke as his outstretched hand placed itself upon the head of the UN delegate. He continued to walk again slowly, tapping the head of several ambassadors, repeating the reassuring "duck" to each. Stopping before one of the Govinidian ambassadors, his hand slowly brought itself down upon the man's head.

He was about to speak but his voice was silenced. "You bastard," Lex spoke coldly, having moved past the initial shock of seeing Richard shot. "You sick bastard," he repeated, as he stared at Dante hard, his eyes finally meeting his feared adversary and locking on them.

Dmitriy and Alec stared in horror as they saw the man brutally assassinated in cold blood by the mysterious figure, hearing the silenced "tweet" of the pistol as it hit him in the head.

Rajay suddenly trembled, but slightly as he felt Dante's hand on his head. He watched as the other people seated were mostly shocked as well, with Lex being the only one courageous enough to call Dante on how bastardised his order was. Alec and Dmitriy tried to hold their composure, but holding their tongue was getting to be an easier task than their composure, given what they just saw.

Rajay had no idea what game this person was playing with people's lives, killing people in cold blood without provocation or justification. Rajay already could tell he was cold and ruthless, from how he acted with Nos and that other guard earlier, as well as from what's been told in the dossiers.

Rajay could not guess what will happen now. For the first time in his life, he began to pray, while Dante still kept his hand on his head.

Genocide sat on the seat of the car, too small to see clearly out the window. She kneeled on the seat as she looked out at the cascading layers of snow and found herself thrilled by the illusion of this new foreign place.

"It's so pretty," she said in her childlike voice, filled with awe and wonder. The sight of snow a mysterious condition she was would have contributed to magic if it were not for her Master beating science and logic into her easily impressionable child's mind.

"It's because it's so cold that it does that, isn't it?" Genocide asked, her eyes becoming distant, disconnected, detached as if her very soul was quickly trying to escape to a fairy tale world in which she could be the child she was.

She slid back into the seat and stared at the ground, no longer interested in the snow after remembering the abuse she faced. She could feel each hit and each kick as she recounted stories of fairy tales, dreams, fantasies......she felt the tears well in her eyes as she began to cry, unable to restrain emotions. As hard as she tried to stop them, they kept pouring from her eyes.

"I miss my guards," she said sadly, trying to displace the sudden loss of emotional control as she remembered those strong arms embracing her as they crash landed. An entire plane down, some twenty people, and she was the only survivor. Abuse and loss of loved ones....two concepts of her life that she had brutally learned too early in her life.

"Yes, the water freezes and crystallizes so instead of raining in winter it snows," Erika said. Gen was knowledgeable for a girl of... five was it? The nurse realized that she had never ascertained the girl's exact age. She'd have to remedy that. Anyway, Erika guessed that the child couldn't be much more than five.

Oh no Erika thought as she looked briefly at her young charge as they drove through the city only to see that the poor girl was crying.

"I miss my guards," Genocide said through her tears.

Still not knowing quite what to do about this, Erika did the only thing she could think of, extending her hand and placing it reassuringly on the child's shoulder. "We all miss someone when they're gone," she said understandingly. The Callisdrunian wished she knew exactly what the girl had been through before crashing on her ship, but Erika could only learn what Genocide felt like talking about. "If you want to talk about them, I'll listen. If you don't, that's okay."

As they drove further from the docks, the machinery of the immediate waterfront was replaced by warehouses. Trucks and forklifts moved everywhere, ferrying cargo from shore to ships. At the entrance to the Navy part of the port, Erika showed her identification card to the guard at the gate and went through. They passed through what was considered the poorer area of Drun, though in actuality it was much nicer than what one would expect, just poorer relative to the rest of the city; if one did not know it was considered "poor," then one would not really have been able to guess.

From there, the road led through the red light district, which Erika realized after they were already driving through it was probably not the best route to take with a foreign child whose native land's sensibilities might frown on such an area, well maintained and safe as it was, for cultural reasons. Fortunately, however, it was just getting started up and most of the... businesses... were not yet open. Soon enough they were passing through the artificial canyons formed by the spires of skyscrapers downtown, their intricate but gargantuan structures towering over them. The sidewalks around them teemed with people of all walks of life, though naturally with a distinctly Callisdrunian flavor, as dress differed in the country from many others, even in the business sector. It was not a long drive from there to their destination, just a mile or two south of their present location leaving downtown. Erika turned on the radio, low, and a folk melody was emitted by the speakers, one familiar to her, as she was a lover of her native land's folk music. Many of her countrymen and women were, as behind the trappings of life in the modern world, Callisdrunians were a deeply traditional people.

Though she tried to stifle any facial expression that could betray inner weakness, Erzsebet's eyes opened wide in shock as Richard's life was unceremoniously extinguished. She didn't know which was more appalling, the cold-blooded assassination of ambassadors at what was supposed to be a peace summit, or the sick perversion of what was clearly a slightly different version of an innocent children's game that was also played in Callisdrun (though the animals were sheep and goats instead of ducks and geese). As Lex had said, it was sick, so very sick. How Dante slept at night was a mystery to her, and she was no saint.

And, for the third time in her life, the vampiress thought I am going to die here. It had been mostly luck that had saved her the two previous times, she supposed; first on the Varghona with metal splinters in her abdomen, and then in that dark room in the Dictatorship, a fairly recent memory that she wished she could forget. Unfortunately, she knew that everyone's luck ran out eventually. There was a notion in her homeland that you only got so much of it for your lifetime, and having escaped death two times, Erzsebet doubted that she had enough to get out of this. It seemed obvious to her that a great amount would be needed to avert her unexpected demise in this room, as it was equally obvious, in her mind, how the game inevitably ended. Normally in sheep and goat, or duck duck goose as it was called her, the person who had been tagged chased the previous one around trying to tag them. However, instead, it appeared that the goat, or goose rather, simply got shot here. Eventually the game would run out of players.

The Callisdrunian, for the dire situation at hand, was doing a fairly good job of steeling herself and at least appearing calm. It was fortunate, though, that the table covered her legs, one of which was shaking almost uncontrollably. Why? was all she could think, besides trying to hold off the images of her imminent doom.

Azzan blanched slightly as the crimson blood pooled in the seat, he didn't bother to check if Richard was dead. It was already clear in the blank stare of the still open eyes that looked past the walls into the corridors of cold eternity. Azzan watched as Dante continued with the deadly game, his new partner was definitely harsher than typhoons that occassionally ripped across the Anceltierrian Islands. Yet another piece to the Puzzle Azzan doubted he'd ever finish, something he regretted even starting.

Yet he was in this mess, the best he could do was hope he was not a goose so soon after he thought he had escaped the first attempt for an excuse to take his life.

With his hoovering hand above Rajay's head, Dante cocked his head slightly towards Lex's outburst. In defiance he slowly lowered his hand and tapped the man's head, as a vehement chill issued from his mouth "goose."

He stepped back, extending his hand outward as if inviting this man to a dance of some sort. But Rajay froze in fear, having just witnessed Richard's death. "NO!" he nearly screamed as a sudden realization filled his head...a realization that his life was about to end.

Rajay's head snapped back violently and his body sat confused for a moment before giving away muscle control and sinking deeper within his chair, resting his head on the table in a slowly forming pool of blood.

Dante barely blinked as he stepped toward the next ambassador, tapping the head quickly. "Duck," he spoke firmly to the Govindian ambassador. He followed with his "ducks", stopping momentarily behind each ambassador's chair as the few seconds seemed to take painstakingly long to deliver the verdict.

Reaching Erzsebet's chair, Dante again stopped momentarily, feeling a slight pang of guilt that she may not play his game. He tapped her gently, while the words almost ripped from his mouth issued, "goose."

He stepped back slowly, again extending his hand like a gentleman offering a woman a dance, hoping inside that she would not be foolish.

Having already seen the result when someone was named the goat or "goose," rather, Erzsebet saw her (relatively short) life flash before her eyes. Too many regrets was the single thought she could muster. The vampiress never understood people who said they had no regrets, it always sounded egotistical or arrogant to her, as if they thought they had never made mistakes in life. An amazing thing about the playback of one's life in one's mind, when nearing death, is that no matter how many events there are, it only actually takes an instant. Her relatively innocent childhood passed, the time in middle school when she first experienced the thirst and bit her friend, her prank filled tenure at Drun Secondary School, on through when she first joined the navy. Then she saw the happy time, before the turret incident that destroyed her dreams, and the blurry haze of the last few years, during which she had been too talented not to be promoted to captain and then put in command of a squadron, but too unstable to promote any further. Until last year. And then recent events went by and snapped sharply to the very present time.

It was then that Erzsebet realized something. Neither Richard nor Rajay had actually tried to play the game. Both had sat there, too shocked to do anything but observe their fate before the Norns clipped off the thread of each life. Having seen the result of sitting in one's chair, wide-mouthed in disbelief over the sick perversion of a children's game, the Callisdrunian instantly decided to do something different. Recalling that she'd been rather good at Sheep and Goats (or Duck Duck Goose as it was called here) as a child, having always been small, light and agile, she slammed her chair back and jumped up, knocking her seat over as she did so.

"So I suppose this is the part where I chase you then?" Erzsebet said to Dante, stepping towards him.

Azzan regained some of his composure- Dante was indeed playing a game. A game that if you refused to play you were automatically out, and if you didn't react in time you were also out. Dante would be a tough one to best in any sense of the word when it came to insane games and hidden tests.

"I believe she may have a point Dante- I'd suggest you get to her chair before she can tag you out" Azzan adjusted the frames of his glasses to they'd reflect brightly, hiding the flash of his smile. Azzan now felt in atleast somewhat familiar territory- atleast for now even if there was a hungry tiger shark given human form on the prowl in the room.

Dante felt the surge of adrenaline pump through his arteries and stepped away from Erzsebet. Facing her, he looked over her briefly, quickly assessing her strengths and weaknesses through her stance. He stepped backward a few steps, Erzsebet seemed to stare at him confused that he was not yet running.

In a flash, quicker then a blink, a mischievous grin spread across his face as he side-stepped and broke into a sprint up the conference table. Erszebet, a predator at heart, took off after him, an exhilarated flush filling her face.

As they reached the top of the table, Dante sprung forward, grabbing the back of the chair to whip his body around the table. With the weight and force of his body, the chair flung back, catching the corner of the table and holding fast as he completed his swift maneuver. As he let go, the chair gave in and toppled over, just as Erzsebet came around the bend.

Landing hard, Dante felt the shock absorb through his body and pierce his recent surgical wounds. He faltered slightly behind Azzan's chair, a falter only Erszebet would be able to recognize due to their previous encounter. A stabbing pain felt fresh in his side but he pushed it aside to continue his sprint.

This was better, it was something Erzsebet knew. The vampiress was out of her element with political intrigue, as though she was intelligent, she was also direct. And a hunter by nature. True, the object of this chase was not to kill the quarry, but the chasing part was much the same, and there was a bit of a thrill in it. Some, most notably Professor Ilona Batory (a very scandalous vampiress herself) argued that moroii weren't really suited to a sedentary peaceful lifestyle, that their instincts were bottled up in modern civilization. Perhaps it was at least somewhat true, maybe that's why almost all moroii spent a good deal of their lives in the military.

In any case, the point was that Dante was running, and Erzsebet was chasing, and the point of the game was to catch up to him and tag him. Reacting instantly to the upturned chair in her path, the vampiress launched herself into the air, fluidly leaping over the obstacle, though anyone watching got a good glimpse of her pale legs through the slit in the side of her dress as she did so. At this point she had almost caught up with Dante, but saw the slightest of stumbles when he landed too hard. Knowing about his all too recent surgeries, compassion caused the huntress to slow down, letting Dante escape to her chair.

"Well, I am 'it' then, I guess..." the Callisdrunian said. Moving her slender hand over Dante's head, she began "Duck."

Slowly walking around the table, she moved her hand above each person's head, pausing every time before saying "Duck." First she stopped over Lex, before moving on to Lady Lux. After her was Autumn, over whose crown her hand hovered for longer than usual before she named the woman a "duck."

Finally, Erzsebet moved her hand over the head of Azzan, where she lingered nary a second before quickly saying "Goose!" and taking off around the table.

While in their mad dash towards Erzsebet's chair, Dante once again flung himself around the foot of the table, his cape whipping around him as if carried in an invisible gust. Splashing through Richard's ever so slowly growing puddle of blood, he leapt towards Erzsebet's empty chair and spun around, grasping the back of it to indicate that he had reached the chair before his opponent. The cape whipped around with his body, out of fight, back over his shoulder and onto the chair back. Pain clenched his side, but he bit hard and forced it down, pushing it away.

Their wild eyes caught each other and locked for a moment. Two wild beasts enjoying the hunt. Slow deep breaths separated them as their bodies normalized from the sudden burst of unexpected activity. Dante could see that Erzsebet had noticed his slight fumble and thus held back from her fullest potential. He nodded in acknowledgment, thanking her silently that she had not made a scene about his slight falter. He knew if anyone suspected a flaw in his performance, the summit may not go as he planned.

He took his seat after a few seconds and Erzsebet began her deadly selection starting with him, a sitting duck for the moment. A slight sweat broke from his hair line that he realized was not from the physical exertion but from the pain he was suppressing. He felt a slight dampness from the side hidden beneath his cape. Resting his hand beneath it, he felt the stickiness of his uniform and realized that he had torn a few stitches. It was not nearly enough to be fatal or even noticeable to anyone but himself, with the exception of Erzsebet who would smell the distinct smell of his blood from the pools of blood already spilled, but it was enough to tell him he needed to take it down a level. He would need to conserve his energy and strength for later, when performing at their fullest potential would be expected.

Looking around the table, eyes turned from him as he met other's silent gazes. Fear and horror at this monster hung in the air....no one could believe the deadly game unfolding before them. Dante looked to the Govindian ambassador now eternally resting in a pool of his own blood a few seats down and grinned maliciously towards the remaining ambassadors, his white teeth catching the light and sparkling ever so subtly. This was the Figure Head of the Elite Empire, a handsome smile embracing and embodying the maliciousness of the man itself.

He watched like a predator as his game continued, Erzsebet tapping each head delivering the anticipated response. Her hand hovered over Autumn's head for a moment longer then most and Dante felt a quick flutter of his heart as if he were momentarily afraid that Autumn would be selected. But Erzsebet passed to Azzan and with the hiss of a "goose" she took off around the table as she had chased Dante just moments ago. Dante's eyes watched closely, scrutinizing every detail of the unfolding scene, as if this game were another one of his deliberately designed tests. The malicious smile still sat upon his face as he leaned back and waited to see what Azzan's response would be to this situation....watching closely as a man watches his prized protegee excel.

Azzan blinked once then reacted like a cat being splashed with water, the single thought in his head was to catch her then and there. He leaped from his chair knocking it over in the process, the wheels left spinning in the air. He managed to clear the seat next to him before rolling into a sprint after the vampiress. Memories of going through courses of physical training, days of sweat and grime. Potentates were taught to defend themselves and were always invited by the military to keep up their fitness so that they could handle a situation beyond the office when they came into danger. Azzan had always attended, even if it mostly out of pride. He laughed as he chased Erzsebet don't the length of the table, he didn't like being the duck but he wanted to be the best despite himself.

God damn, why am I the duck? he asked himself, I'm always the damn duck. First Dante putting me in the corner and now this- today alone I've been chosen way too many times. He leaped forward over the table as the two came to the corner. His white clothing reflecting off the sheen of the polished smooth table. He slid fast right across the corner, he may not know what would happen if he managed to tag her but if his gut feeling was right, the game would continue and she'd have to try again. He didn't want to contemplate otherwise as he managed to get to the edge of the table as she came around the sharp corner coming full tilt. He reached out his arm as fast as he could. He saw her try to dodge outwards but he managed to brush her hip with his finger tips, it wasn't much but it was enough. He turned to Dante and awaited the change in fate if there was one to be had.

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms, surreptiously wiping the blood from his fingertips onto a dry section of his uniform jacket. He continued to watch Azzan's and Erzsebet's responses closely, following their every moves.

As Azzan dove across the table in an all out "fuck it" move, Dante watched Azzan's finger tips just brush Erzsebet's hip. Dante's malicious grin spread further across his face while his inner wilderness danced in his eyes. It was as if he were truly enjoying everything about this moment. He watched them both catch their breaths, breathing hard while they both awaited a potential bullet through the skull from some unknown marksmen.

At first, Dante merely sat in silence, the grin ominously calling to them. With a voice steady and commanding, his eyes met Azzan's then turned to Erzsebet's. "Azzan, you make take your seat. Erzsebet, I believe it is still your turn," his deep voice came from slowly parting lips.

For a brief moment, no one moved as they waited for that silenced angry gust of air and the heavy thud of yet another body out of this deadly game. But no shot fired and it appeared as if both had been granted their lives for now.

James adjusted his crimson tie and sword scabbard on his left hip before stepping out of the car, parked at the gates of the meeting place. He nodded to the driver, taking in the exterior slowly. He approached the guard slowly, left hand holding a briefcase, the right carefully held away from the gun on his hip.

“Please surrender any weapons. They shall be returned to you upon exit.” The guard had the look of an experienced professional, and James knew well how foolish it was to try to slip a weapon past one. The second guard remained impassive, watching James. He unclipped his scabbard for his belt, handing it over, carefully rolling up his long black sleeves to reveal a dagger attached to each wrist, moving on to the gun at his hip. He placed the briefcase on the ground, unlocked it, and stood up, hands free, arms and legs spread as he waited for the inevitable pat down. James had a feeling the guard rifling through the briefcase would be mindful of its sensitive nature. Espionage during a summit was considered rather bad form. He briefly wondered when his personal affects would arrive and gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t his personal comfort that needed attending to; it was the wishes of his Emperor that mattered.

"Clear," the guard spoke to the other guards as he stepped back from James, "someone will be with you in a moment to escort you to your quarters."

Several silent minutes passed where each person stood around not speaking while the bright sun above lazily laid its warm rays upon them. The faint clicking of heels became louder as they approached the doors to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman in a loose fitting military uniform. Her jet black hair was slightly pulled back from her face but still fell around her shoulders in layers that caught the sun's light and sparkled.

"Follow me sir," she spoke without making eye contact to any of the guards and quickly turned, walking away as quickly as she appeared.

James gave a cursory glance over the woman, filing away a mental note to enquire more about her later, as her body language belied some sense of importance.

"Greetings. I am here on behalf of Emperor Kraaesna, to represent his personal interests in the summit. My name is James I'nkara. I apologize for the delay, as there were some unexpected events detaining my departure back home."

He followed her, eyes adjusting as he stepped inside the building and out of the bright light, away from the penetrating yet emotionless eyes of the guards. He flexed his hands, reassuring himself with the feel of his leather gloves pressing against them. He attempted to form a mental map of the place as he followed her, but had a feeling that should he require a quick exit, leaving would be problematic at best.

Immediately open entering the building there was evidence of a flurry of activity and a slight unease as several hardened looking soldiers began streaming into the building. A few guards were pinned down against the floor by the knees of dark uniformed men who held guns to the back of the guards heads. Many other guards were handing over their weapons or joining the sides in brotherly embraces to the soldiers.

"You're still alive?" "Good to see you brother." "I thought you died?" "You made it?" "Where have you been hiding?" "So the rumors are true?" All were glimpses of the roar of excitement within the building.

"I DIDN'T DO IT! I'm not part of the rebellion. I was under orders," pleaded one of the guards whose faced was pressed against the ground. Through the midst of the chaos an old man stepped forward past the woman and James and aimed a clear shot through the back of the guard's head.

Anger rushed over him as he raised his powerful voice to all who could hear. "You see this! DO YOU SEE THIS? This is what happens when you betray The Elite Empire. This is what happens when you sell your allegiance for money." He stood staring at the body of the guard before turning around and leaving the room followed by several of the dark uniformed soldiers.

The room fell in an eerie silence besides the bustle of activity as traitors were hoarded out of the building while being replaced with the armed soldiers who looked as if they were all too eager to pull their triggers.

The woman hurried along to the elevators in the back and quickly entered and pressed the doors. As they shut, she seemed to be reliefed as she let out a breath she seemed to be holding. "Quickly" she spoke as the doors opened into an almost empty corridor with the exception of stationary soldiers. Opening the door to a room at the end of the hall she let James step in before following him inside and closing the door locking it.

James raised an eyebrow as a strange man pushed past him, executing a man near him. He looked down to find fine flecks of gore and gunpowder on his clean clothes and sighed.

Following the woman into a quieter area, he turned to her as she locked the door. Picking off the bits of brain matter, blood, skull, and burnt gunpowder from his clothes, he glanced up at the woman. "Rebellion, eh? The Emperor's stance is, and I find myself agreeing whole heartedly, that such must end in one of two ways. The first is that those who are leading the coup must succeed utterly. They must completely and totally wipe out any and all who were complicit in the real or imagined crimes against them, lest they in turn form their own little insurgency, or worse, gain control and wipe out the rebels. The second result is that the rebellion fails outright and wholly, and in this case, the government must be fastidious in cleansing any and all of tendering aid to the traitors. I have, in short, learned that loyalty and patriotism is often to those in power, not necessarily to the country itself."

Flicking the last bits of human matter off his clothes, he sighed again. "I don't suppose you've a good tailor or some such here? I rather liked these clothes."

The woman locked the door and tested it once before walking over the window and opening it, allowing a rush of cool ocean churned air into the room.

"James, I need your help," she spoke quickly before turning to him and looking him in the eyes. "I already have a status report on you. They've been following you before you even got into Sector 0. I can't tell you much but you've got to help me. There is a man inside that conference room, his name is Dante. His life is in grave danger and I need you to save him for me. Please, you have to help me!" Breeanna's voice grew a little pitched with emotion as her eyes began to water.

Pausing to catch her breath, Erzsebet began counting ducks again, glancing at Azzan with a raised eyebrow (in tagging her, he had brushed her hip, and the hip was considered a very sexual body part in Callisdrun) and a half smile. Nothing wrong with a little innuendo here and there. She took her time, slowly strolling around the table, considering each person before naming them a "duck."

Finally, after she had gone around the table again, her hand came to rest on the head of one Noskalenaeuroph. Ah... Nos... hmmm, the vampiress thought, smiling, before saying quickly "Goose," and once again bolting down the side of the table. She was a fairly fast runner, given a natural advantage because of her moroii heritage and also the fact that she kept herself quite in shape.

James blinked. He had a feeling that the Emperor would be amused during his first update, and groaned inwardly. He just hoped he'd have time to discreetly connect, later. This was proving to be a very odd trip.

Time to be a bit more paranoid and perhaps sympathetic, he thought. He looked around the room to ensure it was secure, then glanced at the window, shaking his head, but left it be for now. If some air calmed her down, so be it.

"Ma'am, calm down a moment, please. If you're so concerned for his life, that window could allow an eavesdropper to find out anything you may know, endangering him further, or a sniper to stop you from speaking. Next, I...have no idea who you are. Who are "they", precisely? I have had others follow me before, for good and ill intentions, but noticed no one this time. Who is this Dante, and why is he in danger? I was sent to speak at a summit, so I assume he is an attendee or the one holding it. "

Ensuring his gloves were free of any gore, he reached into his right back pocket, fetched a red silk napkin, and handed it to the woman.

"How could I possibly help you, and more importantly, how do you know that you could trust me, and I you? You seem to be in possession of a certain degree of authority, as the guards listened to you and what's more, at least appeared to respect you. Further, you don't ignore men with weapons unless you are sure they dare not train them on you, or will not. Again, I ask, how may I help?"

Alec watched in horror as Rajay was assassinated in cold blood by Dante's lackey. He panicked. He vainly tried to hold Rajay's lifeless body as it slumped over, the headshot making it obvious that he died instantly. However, with Alec in a state of shock, he was trying to desperately get him to wake up.

He looked at Dante in tears, as his game continued to play out with the others. He tried to tell him "You heartless bastard!" but he could only mouth it. No words could come out of his mouth.

Meanwhile, Dmitriy was trying to get Alec to his sense, but with little avail so far. Though shocked at Rajay's quick death, he had to keep his composure around this man. Sick game as it was, they had to play it nonetheless, and they had no choice in the matter...

Nos pushed his chair back slowly and regarded Erzsebet for a moment. She was indeed fast, blindingly fast, and he would have a very difficult time catching up with her, yet alone tagging her. He stole a glance towards Dante who had turned his eyes towards him baring that malicious grin of his inner beast.

If it's a game he wants, it'll be a game he gets.

Smiling his sardonic grin, he turned the opposite way and ran towards Erszebet. "Hey darling, where are you heading?"

Breeanna walked over to the window and let the breeze hit her hair and cool the back of her neck. She extended her arms, giving the largest range possible for a sniper to attack her.

"James, you are in Whitecastle. Crime is practically unknown here with the exception of outsiders who bring crime into the city. Haven't you brushed up on your worldly utopias lately?" she let a quick smile drift onto her face that suggested that although in jest the city was harmless.

"Plus," she added continuing her response, "I am not the one they are after. They don't know I'm here. I'm impersonating someone. I was left go under Dante's orders but I stayed around to find out what was going on. After Dante was abducted from my house, I did all I could to learn about foreign militaries and Der Fuhrer Dyszel. I met her only once after she abducted by them and I helped her get back into her nation. She was the one who told me about them. She told me if I was going to go looking for Dante that I had better be on my guard. It seems she was right, they found me and kept me locked away for many months. I never saw them, but Der Fuhrer told me all I needed to know. I can't tell you much about this and you cannot repeat it either. This is between us, strictly between us. You can't even tell a cat. I am asking you to do a great favor, I know, but you are really my only hope."

She walked over to the bed and took his red napkin, the silk soft against her eyes. Sitting down, she took a few slow breaths. "Thank you," she spoke softly, lost in thought for a brief moment.

"James, I need you to get on Dante's good side. If you will, he will make a proposition to you. You will be happy, I promise. Dante's rewards are often great, but it's hard to win over his favor. When you get him alone, be sure he is alone, tell him 'nurse alive' and 'she's on her way.' He'll understand. Oh and you may want to tell him his Elites are streaming back quickly and to get them out of here. Half the Elite Empire knows he has returned already."

James raised an eyebrow, cocking his head at her.

"You're welcome. No city, ma'am, is ever entirely crime free...it just appears so. Who can say what nefarious things I may be planning?" He grinned, briefly, in response to her own attempt at humour.

"Now, I was taught, first and foremost, trust no one and nothing unknown save the Emperor, lest it may imperil your life, or worse, the fate of the Empire. If this Dante can be of benefit to my sovereign, then I will most certaintly do everything in my power to aid him. As to why you entrust me with this task, I do not know.

I have little desire for rewards. I enjoy, when I am able, quite a few creature comforts and pleasures back home, but can do without them as needed. I will help you, for now, so long as it appears you are on the level with me, and this man is an assest. If either appears untrue, I walk away. You have my silence to all but my sovereign, and I assure you, it would be extremely difficult to extract this from him."

He gave her an appraising look, and pulled the chair out from under the desk, and sat down, setting his briefcase on top of the desk. "I cannot just keep calling you 'ma'am', if I am to trust you. Give me a name, any name, to call you by."

Breeanna sat there and wiped her tears dry for a moment, using her emotions as a cover to disguise her thoughts. She needed to figure out how to convince him to support her clause without question.

"Follow me," she spoke as she grabbed his gloved hand and pulled him towards the door. Unlocking the door, she opened it and nonchalantly walked down the corridor to a concealed staircase that lead down to another floor halfway between floors two and three. The area was vacant and the lights dimmed as if this was not a frequently traveled section of the quarters.

She led him into a room off to the left and immediately lights illuminated the room, revealing several shelves of varied texts and large monitors.

"Here, take a seat," her voice spoke softly as she motioned to a comfortable chair placed before one of the monitors. Hesitant at first, James finally took a seat and questioned her with a raised eyebrow.

But Breeanna said nothing at first. She merely turned on the monitor where a symbol flashed for a brief moment before turning black again.

"Retrieve Elite Empire Visual Histories," she spoke. The symbol flashed too quickly to make out what it was before several labeled folders appeared on the screen. She touched one marked A New Beginning where several documents appeared. Lightly running her fingers along them, they appeared in large view on the screen one after the other with several second intervals.

The animated pictures displayed everything from happy families to prosperous economies to excited soldiers eager for war. They moved to rallies where a thousands appeared around a single man and progressed to pictures of millions cheering a single word "Dante!" The slideshow came to hault on a single man with dark hair and sharp piercing eyes, so dark they appeared to be solid black at first. They were angry eyes, unforgiving eyes, screaming out a murderous rage upon those who transgressed him. The most disturbing feature was not his burning eyes but rather the grin that sat lopsided on his face. It was a malicious grin, evilly tempting someone to cross him. It mocked the weak and laughed at the inferior. It challenged the competent and destroyed the insignificant.

"That is Dante," Breeanna spoke after allowing James a few moments to take in the picture. "The only reason we exist today as we do now is because of him. He liberated Whitecastle from an incomptent leader and made it a forerunner in not only this region but the world."

She touched on the monitor which flashed back to the folders where she selected "Dark Days." Animated pictures showed buildings exploding, people screaming in pain, panic and chaos ensuing. Government officials stormed houses and pulled out family members. People were executed. Then suddenly, Dante in cuffs being paraded through the streets and publically mocked and humiliated. They showed him inside a base being beaten by soldiers. In a stunned silence, the slideshow ended with his bloody unmoving body lying in a dark corridor being drug away by soldiers.

"That was what happened when they took him out of power. Whitecastle quickly collapsed. They never had a chance with the new government. His Empire was dismantled immediately and they lost touch with their vast pool of influence. The only reason he was slandered in the first place was fear and jealousy. He was betrayed.....betrayed by a greedy bitch who destroyed him."

She turned the monitor off. Standing in silence, she gathered her thoughts and cooled her anger. "I cannot offer you any reward that will be useful to you or your Emperor and I cannot promise you that Dante will succeed in reclaiming his Empire. All I can offer you is knowledge. You will be doing the right thing. I know Dante to be a good man by nature and knowing him is a more valuable reward than any material object."

She took a moment of silence to let him think, "and you must not mention anything to your Emperor other then I needed your help. If you mention them or even that I need to protect Dante from them, you'll end up only killing us both. Trust me please. Knowledge is power and I have granted you a great deal, but you need to be responsible with it as I was. I may be the only person alive who can speak of this. And I cannot talk to Dante myself because they are in there. And if they see me, they'll kill me. Dante knows that too. Please James, please. I need you because you I think you'll entertain Dante the most and well to be honest because you were late," she spoke through a forced "I'm sorry" smile.

"What do you say? Please James?"

Nos pushed his chair back slowly and regarded Erzsebet for a moment. She was indeed fast, blindingly fast, and he would have a very difficult time catching up with her, yet alone tagging her. He stole a glance towards Dante who had turned his eyes towards him baring that malicious grin of his inner beast.

If it's a game he wants, it'll be a game he gets.

Smiling his sardonic grin, he turned the opposite way and ran towards Erszebet. "Hey darling, where are you heading?"

For an instant Erzsebet almost thought about stopping in her tracks and reversing direction. It appeared that she'd been outfoxed. Vampires, naturally, had instincts more suited to pursuit than to flight. In an active situation, however, it's amazing how fast a mind can make snap reactions and judgments. If she stopped, Nos would have enough of an advantage to catch her up easily. At the same time, if she continued toward him, dodging around would be extremely difficult.

So instead, the Callisdrunian turned sharply inward between two delegates and leaped up onto the table, quickly running/scrambling over it to crash into Noskalenaeuroph's former seat. By this time, her sweat gave her pale skin a moist sheen. Erzsebet had a fleeting thought of hoping she wasn't starting to smell, but it was quickly dismissed as an unimportant concern.

After several ambassadors jumped back in shock, Nos shrugged nonchalantly. She had beat him fair and square and if it were not for her background he may have been slightly disappointed. Noticing her sheen layer of sweat, he smiled to himself, feeling ever so subtly pulled to her. He fought back the urge and continued the game in the opposite direction then they had begun in.

"Duck," he named several ambassadors lazily as if he knew the outcome already. He continued around the table several times before finally deciding his victim.

"Goo...." his mouth began to part as his hand tapped one of the red hooded figures. But before Nos could finish, the figure slammed the chair back so hard, forcing Nos to crash to the ground. It bent over without getting out of the chair and tapped him before pulling the chair back and resuming it's silent stance at the table.

After a slew of beligerent curse words, Nos stood up and looked at everyone. "Ouch," he said to the back of the hooded figure but accepted his defeat and continued again around the table a full time before selecting Alec.

"Goose!" he yelled as began to run, resulting in more of a slap to Alec's head then a tap.

James sighed, and bit his lip, revealing a small golden crown tattoo underneath it. He knew that he was entrusted to act independently with the same authorization in foreign dealings as his leader, but he'd never had to tackle something like this. Leaning back in his chair, he dropped his hands into his lap, thinking.

"Alright, I'm in. He won't know a thing beyond my aiding a potential ally. If I don't come back in one piece, I swear, I will haunt you." He managed to grin at her, before the gravity of the situation hit him again. He frowned, tried to regain his posture. He knew his training was solid, but he also felt that he just dove into the deep end after having just learned how to swim.

"You said he's a tough man to gain trust from. How am I, a foreigner and probably a mere youth in his eyes, to do such?"

Breeanna ran towards him and embraced him. "Oh thank you!" she exclaimed as she stepped away, feeling ever so relieved now that she knew she had someone who would relay her message.

"Now...." she began again, walking back and forth as she thought, "to gain his trust will be the most difficult part. He values cleverness and resourcefulness. He is easily amused but as easily angered. Watch his eyes closely. If they flare with anger, step back. You won't win him over if he's angry and he has a tendency to take fits of rage. Find something that gains his attention and use that to lure him in. It may difficult depending on what he addresses in the summit, but be resourceful and think outside the box. And do not cross him or try to step on his toes. He does not take kindly to people who try to do those things. If your nation has some sort of useful technology that we can use....that's a good place to start. Technology tends to get his attention, but be careful on how much you say because they are also in the room."

She stood in a moment's silence, "I hope that helps you. Now let's get you back to your room," she said as she led him back to his room.

James pushed his door closed, locked it, and drew the drapes closed before slumping into bed, not caring about the yet undried blood that dampened his clothes in spots. Rolling onto his side, he gazed at the room, looking for anything out of place. Groaning, he pushed himself off the bed and began checking every nook and cranny for any sort of bugs. When he was satisified, he sat in his desk chair, pulled off his gloves, and with his right hand, touched the seemingly mundane tattoo.

Watching it begin to glow with a pure, white energy, he focused his mind on one thing: contact. His surroundings dropped away and all he felt and saw became the light. Pushing with his mind, he directed it. Home. His awareness was suddenly dominated by a single, powerful presence, filling and passing through him. Greetings, my lord. I have arrived safely and am already well entangled in the local politics. I feel...unready, sir. I've already had to assure someone aid in order to obtain allies. I think it'll be worth it, but I am under oath to not inform you more. He felt his Emperor's mind project some sense of curiosity and amusement, but he felt no pressure on his conciousness for more. Satisified that no more was required of him, he gradually eased back into himself, the light fading and senses returning. Dazed for a moment, he let his head clear as he slipped his gloves back on.

"What in the nine hells am I going to do," he wondered aloud. Frowning, he looked around the room for a bottle of alcohol. This was going to be a long and stressful night.

Seeing that Alec had not moved, Nos slowed to a stop midway around the table and turned back around to question the inaction of the Govindian ambassador. The ambassador gave no motion of whether or not he was going to play. Nos looked to Dante for some sort of response as a silent despondency overtook the room in anticipation of the puff of air that would mark the next dead ambassador.

Dante, on the other hand, made no indication of awareness and continued to stare directly ahead of him at the hooded figure who had previously taken out Nos. An unease began to ripple through his body however. The rage flared behind his eyes, impatience that one person was incompetently holding up his game. He began to drum his fingers on the table as he leaned in closer to adjust the uncomfortable position his body was in.

Meanwhile, Genocide stared out the window as the car entered the Sorvik Clan's wondrous castle. Her eyes widened as she stared out at the massive structure unfolding before her. It was incredible and so much like places she distantly remembered from her dreams. With sparkling eyes, she could barely restrain herself when the car came to a stop.

Rushing out of the car, she ran around as the storm picked up and whipped fresh snow around her, her boots sinking into the layers of it that already lay around the ground. "Wow," she spoke with amazement as she ran around the courtyard before Erika ushered her inside.

"Miss Erika," Genocide began slowly, "can I live here?"

Deep within The Depths of Hell, a faint electronical sound emerges as computers quickly jump to life. Blackened screens rapidly fill with quick coding which falls into the figure of a white eagle that appears as computers power to life all throughout The Reich.

Soon enough, every computer in every government building features the white eagle as red words begin to form below it:

Initiating Third Protocol.

You have thirty minutes to evacuate The Reich courtesy of The Red Queen.


As the words finish sprawling themselves upon the screen, a small hourglass emerges beneath them with a timer that begins to count how many seconds are passing.

00.00.01.....00.00.02.....00.00.03.....00.00.04.....

Alec felt the slap against his head as he was still n tears, grieving still, holding Rajay's lifeless body. It was enough to slowly bring him out of shock, and he slowly turned and looked at Nos, his eyes with rage as tears still streaked down his face.

Dmitriy, though slightly upset and shedding some tears, still was a bit more composed than President Trevelyan but even Nos's action was out of line. "You bastard!" he yelled at Nos as he ran past. "You may think this is some fun game, but the lives of two diplomats were killed in cold blod just now for no fucking reason! Have you no fucking decency, you pathetic excuse of a human being? There was supposed to have been a war that ended and we're still fucking killing people!"

Dmitriy brushed a tear aside and moved out of his chair. He went and tried to console Alec, who was still holding Rajay's body. Rajay was dead, beyond saving. Normally this would be an act of war, but even here there would be no point. Govindia nor Marionetsvia at the moment would lose horribly, and this region had already seen enough death to begin with.

A rapid flurry of movement came from the periphery of the room as the dark figures all seemed to shift as they were instantly informed of a bomb inside the room.

The eyes of the ambassadors turned from the outskirts of the room toward Dante, whose eyes flashed with rage for a moment before he stood up. His jaw clenched tightly as his head tilted forward slightly, blocking the dim light from his face. Dark black eyes turned towards the hooded figure and it was certain that if looks could kill, he would have murdered the hooded figure with his glare.

Turning his back he motioned to two of the guards behind him. "Get Ruhumunah," he ordered coldly before turning back towards the ambassadors. "You," he fought against rage that was burning inside, flaring behind his eyes, as his glare cut deep into the eyes of the hooded figure. He closed his mouth before finishing his sentence before turning to four guards opposite of him. "Azzan and Tresckow, come here."

The guards escorted the men forward like herded cattle. "Lights," he spoke coldly as the lights cut out quickly. A shrill scream cut through the darkness in obvious surprise of the sudden darkness as a quick flurry of motion sounded around the room from several heavy boots. A few moments passed and an awkward silence took over the room. The sound of a woman whimpering was among the only sounds besides heavy breathing and uncomfortable shifting intermingled with periodic whispers asking if people were still there.

The lights slowly came back on to reveal the empty seats of Dante, Azzan, Tresckow, and one of the hooded figures with the additional missing guards and figures of the darkness.

"What the hell was that?" Nos asked, breaking the silence, looking around the somehow empty feeling room, gaining the feeling that something bad was on the brink of happening.

Azzan spoke as he rushed ahead of the guards and to Dante's wake. Aides and staff stared at the strange group as collective gasps came at the sigth of Dante. Azzan shook his head, the man wasn't a ghost yet. He took long strides as they neared a corridor almost devoid of people, he was again glad to for the training he had received, Dante was hard to keep up with physically as well as mentally. The game was obviously over and the real world had once again reared its ugly head. "Something tells me it must be important, but... what" He turned a sharp corner as he followed Dante down another path to an apparently blank wall. "Can make you rush like we are?"

Dmitriy stayed closer to Alec.

Alec meanwhile, lifted Rajay out of the seat he was in, and dragged him as close as he could to the wall, with Dmitriy nearby.

As the lights went out, he called out to Dmitriy as he tried to look in the darkness. He heard the loud scream and some other voices, unrecognisable in the chaos. He began cradling Rajay, trying to hold him close. Maybe he can somehow revive him, get the bullet out, some brain surgery possibly.

He felt a tug on his left shoulder and tried to t look at who it was. Suddenly, the lights went on. It was Dmitriy again. Dante, Alex, Tresckow, Azzan, and one of the hooded figures were gone, along with some of the guards. He looked at Dmitriy. "What the hell just happened?"

Dmitriy looked around, a bit alert. "I don't know, Mr. President. I don't know."

"DANTE!" someone yelled as Dante turned abruptly, his black cape whipping around him and falling to his side. "Wrong way," a hardened old man spoke, motioning for Dante to follow him.

Dante turned again staring at the dead end, momentarily confused, before turning around and following the man towards a second seemingly dead ended corridor. Dante spoke little, neglecting the questions from others, as they worked their way to end of the corridor, where they stopped before several mounted pictures. Removing his glove, his placed his hand along one of the hanging pictures, which gave off a brief light as it analyzed his hand and body temperature.

In the mean time, Alex who had been awakened so abruptly, felt the pain tighten in his chest. He tried to comprehend what was happening, but little was being uttered by anyone to indicate the severity of the problem or the necessity to bring him into it. Tresckow on the other hand seemed to be the only one who had any idea of what was to be expected as he worked his way past the guards to help support Alex during their rush which ended as they watched Dante place his hand on a cleverly masked hand analyzer.

When the wall failed to open as Dante expected it to, he angrily slammed his body into the wall, knocking off two of the other pictures also hung there. He said nothing but repeatedly slammed into the door before the old man placed his arm on Dante's shoulder to calm him.

"Your hands are scarred. It won't recognize you," he spoke as he placed his hand on the picture. The door, seemingly more responsive to the old man's hand slid open to reveal a passage way beneath the quarters.

Rushing down into a fortified section of the quarters, they found themselves filing into a large room equipped for security maintenance and communications equipment, far more advanced then what was demonstrated in the rest of Sector 0000.

"Take a seat," Dante ordered. Figuring they had no choice but to do what Dante ordered, Alex and Tresckow pulled up chairs around the terminal Dante happened to choose to work behind.

Without looking at a single person, Dante began a furious blindingly fast typing into a program that was not recognizable to Alex or Tresckow, as he began to speak. "Five minutes ago, The Red Queen initiated The Third Protocol which is set to implement itself in twenty five minutes."

A few more minutes passed in stunned silence as Dante tapped away so fast it was difficult to keep up with the commands he was ordering through the program.

"Tresckow....Alex...." he spoke coldly as he hit enter, bringing up a new program which Tresckow instantly recognized. Dante turned around to face them, a cold seriousness not seen previously in the summit emanated from him, "stop her before I fry her."

"How did you?" Tresckow asked in disbelief, but pushed the question aside to stare blankly at the screen he recognized as the original code collector for COSP G2.

Alex looked past Dante to the screen he did not recognize and back to Tresckow who showed evident signs of fear. " Get me a phone," Alex spoke, his diplomatic side taking over in necessity. Whatever that was, he knew it was not good, and that the peaceful solution would be to attempt to call off this attack. Being Dictator, he knew he was the only one who could persuade her at this point.

When he was handed a phone, he walked away from the group and dialed a series of numbers as everyone else seemed to turn their attention back to Dante who was now glaring at Tresckow.

"Dante, we did not order this attack. I know how this looks for The Reich but I can assure you that Alex or I have not ordered this assault. We have little to gain from eradicating the region. You know that," he spoke softly and smoothly as if his voice could reassure Dante.

Dante clenched his jaw to bite down a wave of anger that was surfacing. His knuckles turned white and the mutilated scars bulged out unpleasantly as he tightened his grasp around the chair arm before turning to Azzan. "It appears their AI wants to kill us all. I think it found its own solution to this war. This is why you never trust the advancement of mechanics," he warned as the rage surfaced again, flaring behind his eyes.

"Dante...." Tresckow began but was instantly silenced when Dante lunged forward and grasped Tresckow's throat, locking his fingers around Tresckow's trachea. He tightened his grip as the rage boiled and his head seemed to scream to life with a thousand voices beckoning him to stop the doomsday about to fall upon them.

His grip released as he fell back into the chair and turned around. Grasping at his head, Dante appeared to be emerged in deep thought. Although, in reality, he just wanted the voices to stop and he was doing all his power to override their ever intrusive presence.

Azzan shifted his glasses as he looked around the control center, it was a virtual haven of screens and data- the computer science Potentate would have a field day in this room. Azzan spoke in response to Dante's remark about not trusting technology, "Banning AI development was definitely a smart move on our part then." He kept calm, he knew that if he died he had already given birth to a masterpiece anyone would be proud of, a piece of technology that would help all those who would come after them.

He turned to Alex, "If we live, you're gonna need a new heart- this certainly can't be good for it.." He gave a half smile then turned to the screen as his eyes flicked across the screen, scanning almost mechanically the data that was streaming on it. He mumbled "I hope that's enough motivation to get you through this." He shook his head and thought to himself, an AI... there are certainly things I'd want to learn about one but now's not the time.

Anger flared behind Dante's eyes as he glanced impatiently from Alex back to the computer screen to Tresckow and Azzan. "Tresckow, get online and try to shut her down," he ordered, watching as Tresckow stood up and walked towards another computer while rubbing his throat uncomfortably.

With Tresckow tapping away in the background, Dante's rage subsided slightly as he turned to Azzan. "I brought you here so you could understand what I do," he spoke meeting Azzan's eyes and staring into them as if searching Azzan's deepest thoughts. He turned away from Azzan and began to type more codes. "I'll need a replacement after this summit," Dante added as an afterthought, speaking as if this were a nonchalant invitation to dinner.

The symbol of The Reich flashed briefly before the overview of region came to life on the screen. Typing in a few more codes, the screen blinked as a voice spoke, "Welcome to GOSP Dante. Initiating voice and touch command at your request."

Dante looked over his shoulder to Alex who was between listening to the phone and typing series of numbers one after the other before turning over to look at Tresckow who was also busy typing away. "If this is an assassination attempt and I die before she's shut down, order the destruction of The Dictatorship. Just touch the screen and confirm the attack. If I live through this, I will need you blind to that virus."

Azzan shook his head slightly, he would not be responsible for death on a mass scale especially since at his very core he still held his oath as a doctor dear to him. He knew Alex and Tresckow wouldn't plan an assassination of Dante- not this way when they too would lose their lives, even if Alex thought his was on it's last feet he'd want to go out helping someone not killing them- the peg Dante had suggested didn't fit with either of them. "I don't think the thing trying to kill you would want human hands involved, it is afterall thinking up it's own solution so why resort to fallible humans?"

"If you don't mind me asking, why would an AI try to end a human war it would survive if it layed low?" Azzan turned to Dante with a questioning look, "Or is there more to this?"

Dante spun in his chair to face Azzan. His dark eyes locked once again onto Azzan's and barely blinked for several seconds as he stared. "The Dictatorship is dead. No one is alive in the nation anymore. The only life we'll claim is that damn AI's," Dante spoke with anger surging in his soul.

"I never trusted that thing since I learned of its inception. It's an independent thinking AI capable of autonomous rewriting its own code. The only way to take it out at this point is to destroy its base in The Dictatorship. I'd rather destroy one nation then an entire region. I have my problems with Der Fuhrer and dictatorships but it doesn't serve my purpose if we all went down in this war."

Dante grimaced slightly and reached beneath his cape, touching the warm wet side of his uniform, spinning his chair around to face the computer again. Scenes of violent and bloody deaths mingled with agonizing screams and the voices of so many people filled his head.

"I am still a man of honor," he spoke quietly, bringing his bloody hand to his head. Clutching tightly, he struggled to press the voices from his head while he spoke even more quieter then as if speaking to someone other then Azzan, "I'm still a man of honor."

"He is not responding," Code Six's apathetic voice sounded over the gathering group of black suits, filling the air with an icy bite. "He has either found a way to block us or the implant has failed."

"I've tested the implant several times Code Six. I'm quite sure it works unless we damaged it upon insertion, but Dante did respond early after implementation, proving it worked after insertion. He has only shown to be unresponsive during this summit. I believe your assumption is correct....he's found a way to block us," another man spoke, pushing through the rest of the suits to meet up with Code Six.

For a moment, each stared at one another as if they were trying to look into the other's eyes, their reflective shades mirroring the other.

"I trust his surgery was successful Three One," Code Six broke the silence first.

"Damn Six, you look like shit," Three One added, noting Code Six's slung up limp arm.

Refusing to look at his arm, Code Six merely shrugged with his left shoulder. "I will have it removed after this summit," his cold voice added without emotion or concern for the lose of a limb.

Three One nodded, understanding the importance of such seemingly trivial matters that impair the fullest potential of their perfected skills. "So what do we do now? Do you think Dante will handle this problem?"

Code Six looked to each of the Reich Freedom Fighters. "Let him work it through. While we break, get yourselves something to eat and drink before we return to the summit. It may be a long time before we get another break," Code Six cautioned as he stepped away, the light flashing off his shades and threatening anyone who opposed that direct order.

Walking away, Three One nodded to the other Freedom Fighters, assuring them that they should trust Code Six. "He knows Dante the best. That was his objective," Three One informed them as a wave of understanding seemed to pass before them all as they turned to watch the back of Code Six disappear.

Erika smiled at the girl. "Yes, you can. That's the plan anyway, for the time being."

After they parked, it appeared that a middle aged couple had come out a small door set within the great gates. The man was tall, while the woman was shorter than Erika, but both were very pale. Despite the age that their iron-grey hair would suggest, both faces were largely free of wrinkles aside from the beginnings of laugh lines.

"Hello Madam and Mister Sorvik," Erika called up.

"You must be Nurse..."

"Erika," the nurse said. "Since I'll be living her as well, it would seem awkward to address me by last name or occupation.

The woman laughed, and though she did not make a point of showing them, one could see her long fangs when she did so. "Well then you can call me Madar and my husband Attila," as Erika and Genocide climbed up the steps and arrived at the threshold, the vampiress added "And this must be Genocide." Despite her pale skin and fangs, Madar Sorvik had a warm smile that made her green eyes shine and light up everything around her. "Do come in out of the cold," she said, leading the small group inside.

Heavy laden anxiety filled the room....the air becoming a palpable essence growing thicker with each passing moment. Soldiers shifted uncomfortably, their guns growing heavy in their arms while the guards also began to shift positions and break formation. The sudden change of demeanor was clearly unplanned for as it wrapped confusion and unease around each person which manifested in shifting glances and shuffling.

A few soldiers began to pace, deciding to work out their anxieties through movement while the white knuckled hands of the others clenched their weapons even tighter, as if embracing a moment on the battlefield where they would have to quickly aim and fire.

The soft whimper ceased with the return of the lights and from the corner one of the hooded figures returned and took its seat at the table. It stared down at the polished surface, as if refusing to make eye contact with anyone else in the room. It appeared that at this moment a deep revelation had been made and that this news could only bring bad news upon the vulnerable figure.

Nos however, with his uncanny whims, settled in Alec's seat. "I believe it is now your turn," he mused, the sardonic smile spreading across his face.

Outrage momentarily flared across the faces of others, who barely noticed that the hooded figure took this moment with a great relief and seemed instantly relieved that Nos had one again proven to be a valuable asset to The Dictatorship. If there was one thing they could rely on him for, it was his ability to take the focus off important matters and place it neatly into a completely irrelevent topic which he masterly passed off as imperative issues. This is what made his irreplaceable.

"Thank you Noskalenaeuroph for your wonderful satire, but I doubt the Govindian Ambassadors are in any mood for this game," the woman from earlier announced as she stood up and walked over to the ambassador.

Autumn stretched down and extended a hand to Alec. "Sir, please, on your feet. The ground is no place for esteemed diplomats," she offered kindly, a warm but firm approach to settling the crisis about to unfold.

Genocide stared with awe and amazement at the dazzling antiqued lights and raw earthen materials that laid before her. She had never before recalled such wonderful places....it was as if this place were part of a story she had once heard or dreams she had once had. So long had she lived behind the steel walls of the Complex. So long had she grown used to technology and human advancement that the primitive means and luxuries had become such a distant concept that it was now majestically imprisoned in her mind.

"It's pretty," she said in awe as she touched the walls and decorative ornaments within her grasp as they continued through the castle which emanated a warm and history unlike another.

Tugging on the woman's dress, she looked up to her, "why do you have funny teeth?" she asked innocently, curious as to why these people were so different from others she had encountered. Even for The Reich, which she had seen pictures of and interrogated leaders of, nothing of this sort had ever been revealed to her. It was as if these were some sort of strange beings and she had landed herself in a place not of The Reich but somewhere else far away from anything she had ever known.

Fear gripped her, but like a boot to the rib, she swallowed it and held her head high and pretended to be strong. Afterall, Erika was still there and Erika she could trust.

Alec, not even looking, took Rajay's limp body and put it on his right shoulder. He then, with his left hand, was helped up by the strange woman. "My defence minister," he said in a soft voice, softer than usual. This was not like him, and he usually was a bit loud with his voice. "Shot because he didn't get up.....I knew him for over 20 years..." he said, a tear streaking down his face.

"This is war Alec.....many more people were killed for less. Now come take a seat," she spoke softly guiding him into the chair Rajay had been shot in, the fresh blood still spread before him on the table.

"In some aspects," she began as she sat on the table, her uniform touching the edge of the blood puddle, "he is lucky. He has not had the opportunity to be corrupted by this war. He has been spared uncountable suffering and torture. This war has torn apart souls. That man who shot your friend, he has no soul. Dante....do not hate him, pity him. His soul has been handed to Lucifer himself and torn into two. The man lives with a void we'll never understand. Try to understand that sometimes death is more welcoming then what may occur in life. And this..." she spoke as she dipped her finger into the blood, drawing swirls within it, "is merely a meaningless object shed to protect souls from greater harm."

She looked into his face, with eyes that spoke of great sorrow and motherly tenderness. "Now let go of your friend. It is time to protect yourself. Do not let Dante use those feelings against you Alec. He is most feared and often respected for his ability to turn anything into a weapon. Believe me, you are a worse then a Parkinsons victim holding loaded pistol with its safety off at the head of his own mother. Dante does not have the ability we do to rationalize his attacks. Do not give him the opportunity to destroy you," she cautioned him, speaking from the depths of her heart a great truth she had painfully witnessed one time too many in the past.

Alec nodded. "I...uuunnder..stand," he stammered. He slowly and gently laid the body of Rajay flat on the floor, with arms folded across his chest. He closed Rajay's eyes and said a silent prayer for his soul, in Russian.

Straightening himself up, he looked at Dmitriy and nodded to him. He slowly, but methodically, sat down in his chair. Dmitriy followed suit. The pool of blood where Rajay's head fell upon the table was still there, still fresh....

It all happened so quickly. There was no gunfire coming her way or any other imminent attacks, so Erzsebet did the only thing that made any sense. She stayed in her seat, upright, ready to quickly move if the need should arise. It didn't.

Being nocturnal in nature, she was used to low light levels, but not even her eyes, evolved as they were for night time hunting (of humans, mainly, though those uncivilized days were, thankfully for the nation, over), could make out anything but indistinct shapes in this near complete darkness. She heard voices that she recognized, the main one being Dante's of course.

A spine-chilling scream cut through the hush that the darkness had ushered in and there was the sound of quick footsteps. By the direction the sounds of movement went, those Dante had called had left the room. When the lights came back on, Erzsebet saw that her guess was correct. Except for the absence of Dante, Azzan Tresckow and a hooded figure, everything was as it had been before. So that's where the scream came from... the vampiress thought.

The screamer's identity was a problem that Erzsebet was in no position to solve at the moment, given that it seemed likely that exit from the conference room was probably not going to be allowed by the guards. However, the Callisdrunian realized she had another problem. While Alec was having a breakdown over his fallen friend, the smell of the deceased's blood was filling Erzsebet's nostrils. While not particularly hungry at present, the vampiress had left her supply back in her chambers. Autumn's swirling of the pooling liquid only stirred up its odor and made Sorvik all the more aware of it, as she involuntarily looked towards the red fluid and licked her lips.

Shaking herself out of it, Erzsebet did her best to ignore the tantalizing aroma and turned her attention to the subject at hand. "Politicians know abstractly that people die in wars, but oftentimes they do not realize that each person who dies has an identity beyond being a number on a page that lists casualties. Many many people suffered much worse fates than Rajay," she pointed out solemnly. "And many of them had not the chance to know anyone for twenty years," the vampiress added, alluding to all the children and youth who had been killed in what had to be one of the most tragic wars of history.

For a minute, Erika tried not to seem alarmed. She had been nervous about the inevitable question, knowing that Genocide was a foreigner, and so for her, moroii were not part of daily life. Tensely, she waited to see how the vampiress would answer the question.

Being a good hostess was important to Madar Sorvik, and so she did not want to frighten the little girl, though she wondered at the extremely odd name. "Because we are funny people," she said nonchalantly, with another of her warm smiles. "Or at least you could say so. A long time ago, before I was born, before even the oldest of us were born, our grandparents' great great great grandparents depended on special teeth for survival. Things are better now and we don't really need our funny teeth anymore, because our friends give to us."

While she was saying this, they entered a sort of great hall where many tables were laid out. A few teenagers, dressed in different sorts of clothes, some pursuing an aesthetic that might be called "gothic," some not, and a few younger children were setting plates, glasses and silverware. They looked up, and the teenagers looked back down again, while some of the smaller children continued to look at Genocide, who apparently was much more interesting to them than to their slightly older relatives, before being kindly told by the teenagers to stop gawking and go back to setting the table. It might interest one to note that nearly all of the children had striking green eyes.

"Your rooms are straight through this hall here," Attila said to Erika. "They are adjoining, with a door in the wall between them." After a pause he continued "Gen's room is the same one that our daughter used when she was small." Another pause. "Speaking of which, do you know how she is? She sent you back ahead of the rest of the fleet, am I right?" His tone was calm, but it was easy to spot the deep concern behind it.

"Erzsebet is at a peace conference in Whitecastle," Erika responded. "My ship was sent home because of the same circumstances I'm staying here for."

"I see," was all Attila said, but Erika could see the worry on his face. Though obviously she knew that her commander had parents, but the nurse had ever really thought of the much admired, fearsome Admiral Erzsebet Sorvik before as somebody's little girl.

Hoisting his legs onto the table top, Nos leaned back and looked to Alec. "At least you know he can die," he cut an interesting glance to Erzsebet who would remember his suicidal escapade aboard her ship many moons ago. "It's your turn now Alec. Dante wouldn't want us to sit around twiddling our thumbs while he is being secretive," Nos's grin spread across his face taunting the Govindian ambassador into action.

Silently he watched Erszebet though and her ever seductive way of licking her lips in the presence of the sanguineous blood spread across the former Rajay's seat. Had she noticed Dante's blood? he thought briefly, aware that Dante had discretely tried to cover his injury earlier.

The sardonic grin spread to his ears as a thought occurred to him. "Let's hide on Dante. He'd shit himself if he came back and we're all gone."

"Oh," Genocide spoke, as if understanding the deep implications of what Lady Sorvik had revealed to her. "Okay," she said, less interested now in the funny teeth but the children who had taken a break from their routines to look at her with questioning eyes, all remarkably green in color, every last one of them.

She heard little of what was said to Erika and about what the Sorvik masters were talking about, but began to wander over to the children who returned to their work under the direction of older teenagers.

Never before had she see so many children in one place. She envied them and a shyness unlike anything she had experienced filled her. She never knew so many children around her age.

And then it dawned on her, it must be a dream. This whole thing was a dream. It began as a nightmare with the crashing of the plane, but it was all a dream. She would soon awaken to find herself in bed with bruised arms and cracked ribs, back safely and securely in Mahanoy.

That was....until she extended her hand to the back of one of the children and poked them hard. The person did not disappear and the child felt very real to her. "You're real," she said in amazement and took a few steps back to view the new reality she was thrust into.

Not only now was she shy, but a flush of embarrassment overtook her as the room fell awkwardly silent and everyone once again stopped what they were doing to look at her.

"Nos," Alec said coldly, looking straight at whomever was sitting at the opposite side of the table. "Please get out of my seat. This is not a good time now, to continue playing this game."

He noticed the vampiress lusting for the blood earlier, before she tried to explain how Rajay's death should be looked at, in light of the events that had occurred here in this area, with the war. For some reason, Alec felt a tingling sensation as he briefly saw the woman lust after blood. She must not have had some for a while.

A strange sardonic grin suddenly appeared on Alec's face. Almost like the one Nos had been giving to him. He chuckled slightly.

Dmitriy started to be concerned. One moment the President had a near breakdown, now this? He wasn't sure what was going through his head, but something was up. "Mr. President, are you all right?"

Alec turned and looked at the vampiress. "You know, Admiral Sorbet," he said, referring to her by her military rank. "I always wondered, how the blood of humans like myself tasted." Looking at her, he leaned down and gently dipped his tongue into Rajay's blood, and scooped some into his mouth. "Would you like some?"

Dmitriy looked in absoulute horror, speechless. This was the blood of his Alec's closest friend, and he was drinking it! His face turned pale as he saw the President drink the blood, then invite the vampiress to do the same.

Nos grinned, content with Alec's new change. Standing up he walked over to Alec and patted him on the back like an old comrade.

"That's my man. Kind of sick, but that's the way to do it. Now let's go hide on Dante!" he encouraged Alec while the thoughts of Dante's surprise at their disappearance deluded his thinking.

Alec quickly turned and snarled at Nos. "Don't fucking touch me, human," he said ferociously to Nos, in a voice that almost seemed to not be his. As he spoke, one can see some blood stained on his teeth.

Dmitriy curled up in his seat, getting increasingly frightened. What had happened to the President?

At Nos's subtle reference to his suicidal escapades on her flagship, Erzsebet nodded, acknowledging the incident. She wasn't about to bring it up in conversation. Not now anyway. Without comment she watched Alec seemingly crack. Unless of course it was some sort of strange attempt to get in her pants. Finally, she could contain herself no longer.

By the change in her expression, the vampiress was clearly not amused. "Just because Autumn and I wanted you to pull yourself together and realize that many people die in war, and start acting like a man instead of a blubbering boy doesn't mean we wished you to dishonor his death and act with so little dignity."

Until now she had been looking down at the table, now she brought the emerald pools of fire that were her eyes up to regard the Govindian, who had seemingly lost his sanity. Anyone looking into them could see that she was livid. "Do you think that simply drinking the blood of another human being makes you one of us?" she asked, by "us" meaning vampires of course.

"You see these?" Erzsebet said, pointing to her long fangs. "They came in when I lost my baby teeth. I felt the need to drink for the first time when I hit puberty, as nearly all of my kind do. I didn't choose to be moroii, I wasn't made moroii, I was born this way. My appetite may be aroused by the sight and smell of blood, but that is pure instinct and we moroii control our animal instincts."

She wasn't done, of course. By now a little of the scars of past traumas, beginning with the disaster a decade ago, shone through her gaze. "I feed from a lover for intimacy, all moroii do. It's part of the deal when one enters a relationship with one of us. Spouses of vampires always have residual bite marks. I feed from enemies to inspire terror among them and because I might as well. I feed from friends because they are kind enough to give and because I need to drink blood to survive. I would only feed from the corpse of my best friend if I were in danger of dying from the need." Her eyes widened in anger. Honor and loyalty were extremely important in Callisdrunian society. Her voice was cutting, its characteristic hiss even more pronounced in her disgust. "So what the hel is your excuse?"

Azzan let Dante quiet down before speaking once more, "Well then, I'll pray that we can reach this A.I." Damn this is taking too long, Azzan thought as he pulled a pen from his pocket and twirled it idly as the screen blinked the progress. "Is there a reason you haven't destroyed this AI yet? If it was such a threat why hasn't it been taken out yet?" Things just didn't add up to Azzan and it made him nervous- he hated not knowing what all the facts of this were. That is when a chill went down his spine, shaking him to the core. A voice, a female voice not produced by any person in the room sent a greeting to those in the control center. "I think... she's found us."

Dante was about to begin a thought when the voice entered the room.

"I think... she's found us," Azzan spoke in a cautious voice, looking back to Dante who still kept his head tightly grasped in his hands.

"Shit," muttered a soldier, "she's hacked our systems. Dante?" one of the soldiers asked, growing uncomfortable with the ominous presence that how now taken over the room.


Tresckow stood up and spoke firmly, "Red Queen. Abort Protocol. I repeat, abort Protocol."

The voice sent a shrill laughter generated from all the computers but Dante's. "You have no authorization to perform that function," the voice mocked Tresckow's attempt to command it.


Seeing the confusion, Alex walked over with the phone still between his hands. "She tracked the phone," he spoke, closing it slowly and looking around for signs of animosity from the soldiers who may blame him for this event.

He waited to see if she would offer more. The time flashed on Tresckow's screen and subsequently each screen until every computer but Dante's blinked red numbers that counted the minutes until their demise.

Alex began to speak, but was distracted by a shuffling as Dante stood up and clutched his side. He seemed to stagger over to Alex like a drunkard after a pint of whiskey. He grasped Alex's shoulder as if to stabilize himself and grasped tightly, digging his fingers into the soft tissues around his shoulder.

"Stop her Alex," he spoke coldly and seriously, a blind rage filling his eyes, piercing into Alex's. He held tightly, almost as if he refused to let go, as his eyes burned into Alex's eyes, each locked momentarily onto each other's.



Alex nodded and tried to pull away, but Dante held him fast. Fear began to grip his heart. He knew the stories of Dante's infamous rage and the horrors that followed when it surfaced. "Dante," he spoke quietly barely above a whisper, "let go."

But Dante held fast, refusing to let go.

"Azzan," Alex spoke quietly and cautiously, "please....help."

Released from Dante's grip, Alex watched Dante stagger back to his chair clutching his side. He watched for several seconds, worried about the sudden change in Dante, but resolved to complete the task at hand because the fate of the entire region was far more important then a change in Dante's behavior.

With fervently shaking hands, Alex called The Red Queen again, but to no avail. Having blocked her communication lines, the phone continued to ring unanswered. He hung up and tried again and again, becoming more desperate with each attempt. And with each attempt, nothing.

He turned to Dante just in time to see a small droplet of blood hit the floor. He watched it in slow motion, as if time was becoming suspended for all to focus on that one minute detail, split into intrinsic motions as the droplet hit and small droplets burst forth also landing on the ground. What happened in a split second transpired an eternity in Alex's mind.

Still in slow motion, he watched Dante mutter an incomprehensible slur as his hand slipped beneath the uniform jacket to clutch his side while the other hand moved to screen to touch it. Dante's finger touched the screen, right in the heart of The Dictatorship, but slid down, running through the neutral territory separating The Dictatorship through Sector 0000 of WhiteCastle and into the ocean until he hit the base of the screen. A voice from the computer spoke, ominous in its question Do you wish to confirm the utilization of the COSP program along the current selected route? Dante merely clutched his head, his dark hair sticking the blood tainted hands.

Alex looked to Tresckow who tried time and time again to override the authorization, and who with each attempt was becoming more frantic and dejected, as if coming to the realization that they could not avoid the looming death over their heads.

The guards were nervously standing around, some having tossed their guns to the side, and many sitting at terminals to try to disarm this attack. Each guard had a despondent look of horror and confusion, fear that everything they knew was about to come to an abrupt end.

Through everyone's desperation, Alex watched chaos transpire slowly, having seemingly entered a realm where time moved at a crawls pace. And equally as slow, Alex dropped to his knees, the phone clattered beside him, his voice a desperate plea, "Red Queen, please don't...."

As Erzsebet waited, one eyebrow cocked upward in demand, for an answer to her query, something made her nose twitch slightly. As such, her attention was drawn from the pitiful creature before her to thoughts of what that scent was. The smell of blood was pervasive in the room because of Rajay, but that was not the only source of the odor. What she had just noticed, was different, and not coming from this room.

"Well, Alec? What's your explanation? I'm running out of patience," she said sternly to the Govindian, who seemed to have totally lost his mind. "I hope you don't do this every time someone you know gets shot."

Already, she considered departing the conference room. That scent... where was it coming from, and was it related to Dante, Alex and Azzan's departure? This peace conference was a bit bloody for it to be called such. That's okay, I was never that great at shore duty anyway the vampiress thought. It was true, she did feel most at home on board her battlecruiser. Her family's castle was good as well, but it was slightly strange to her not to have a ship under her feet. The sea wolf crossed her arms across her chest while she waited, growing tired of doing so.

The six year old girl she had poked turn around, startled, her four braids of thick, jet black hair twirling slightly with the sudden movement. For a minute she said nothing, merely regarding the foreign child with her bright emerald eyes, which were notably enormous for her size.

At that point, she finally spoke, in the language of the Reich, albeit a bit broken and with a very noticeable accent. "Hi," she said. Since the child was a moroii, her voice had a bit of that strange background hissing quality, but very little compared to those in their teenage years and older. "I am called Alkony. And yeah, I'm real." Apparently the girl thought Genocide's comment was a very odd one to make. So she poked her right back.

This elicited a laugh from Madar, who turned to Erika. "Alkony is a funny child, very different from her brother Thurzo. Her parents are my niece Rozsa and her husband Ivar, who I must say is adapting quite well for someone who's never been around so many moroii." This statement implied of course that Ivar was not a vampire himself, only married to one.

Erika only nodded. It would be a bit of an adjustment for her as well. She'd grown up with moroii friends, of course, but it would be a different thing to be actually living with them.

"Come," Madar said. "And Genocide, you come too. You can come as well, I suppose, Alkony."

Without further ado, Erzsebet's mother led them down one of the many branching hallways. Some of the doors were open, some had people engaged in various activities inside. Though it was a castle, the building appeared to have been retrofitted with modern power and plumbing.

"Here we are," the older woman said, opening a door. The room was not large, but it was not small either, its two windows looking out to the sea. Gulls could be heard calling outside as they flew this way and that. "Because of the rather last minute arrangements, we didn't have time to redecorate. We can store Erzsi's things if you want, so that Genocide can put up her own decorations on the walls."

As Genocide and Alkony caught up, Erika walked into the room and looked around. Photos from Erzsebet Sorvik's childhood were everywhere, apparently the room had not been changed since the woman had moved out, only cleaned. Erika laughed as she picked up a picture in a frame of a ten year old Erzsebet and a boy the same age, soaking wet and holding squirt guns and smiling. Her commander had been a cute kid. Even in the pictures of her as a black-clad, pierced teenager, the vampiress seemed to have had a lot more joy in her soul than she had ever displayed during the time that Erika had served under her.

As the two little girls entered the room, Erika could hear Alkony babbling away. "Why did your parents name you Genocide? I think it's a funny sounding name. That's okay though, my cousin was named after some town with a beach. I've never been there, but I do like the beach here in the summer. You can't swim there in the winter, you'll get too cold or something. I wouldn't want to though, cause then it's even more cold when you get out, which I don't like about swimming anyway. It's fun when you're in the water, but then you get all cold and you need a towel. But I like swimming anyway. Do you like swimming? My parents said I could hardly walk when I learned to swim. But mommy swims way faster than me. So that doesn't make any sense, because I'm way smaller, and I thought small things like mice go faster. They always do when I try to catch them on the mountain. I caught one once but then he pooped and it was gross so I dropped him. It was okay, though because he didn't get hurt."

Madar let her niece's daughter babble away as she showed Erika the door that led to an adjoining room. "This will be your room. I stayed in this room when my Erzsi was a little girl. The bathroom is at the end of the hall. It's group, sort of like a public bathroom, but a lot cleaner."

Erika only nodded her approval. It was so strange to see this side of her admiral's life, to meet those who remembered Erzsebet as someone like Genocide or this talkative Alkony girl. "Genocide," she called behind her. "This is going to be your room for a while, okay?"

Genocide stared amazed at the place before her. There seemed to be so much history within these walls and it impressed Genocide, as she was often impressed with large buildings. She touched the walls as they walked, looking around at everything with awe and amazement.

Once inside Erzsebet's old room, Genocide resisted the urge to test the bed-spring's recoil. She had just finished explaining to Alkony, her newfound friend, that she was named Genocide after her father.

"My dad is Dante," Genocide said casually as if this were nothing to be ashamed or proud of, but should be common knowledge. Still looking around the room and the young Sorvik's childhood artifacts, she joined in Alkony's babbling, "This reminds me of Dante's complex in Mahanoy. Were you ever there? A lot of people try to visit, but we don't let a lot of people in. Dante has a huge building that's locked. You should see the doors. The doors are really big. So big," she exclaimed, trying to demonstrate with her hands the extensive width of the doors. "Maybe one day you can come visit. Did you ever go to Mahanoy? It is a really big nation. It is like Whitecastle without the ocean. I was in Whitecastle once. That's where I met my dad. Gramma told me my mommy and daddy were very busy people and couldn't take care of me because they were so busy...." Genocide trailed off, suddenly remembering that she had a life prior to captivity in Mahanoy.

"I think I am going to go to bed now," Genocide said, "thank you for everything." She turned to Erika and the Lady Sorvik and bowed politely before clambering into bed without another word.

Her patience having run out as her irritation and then anger grew, Erzsebet decided that she had waited long enough. With a couple efficient strides, she crossed the distance to where the Govindian crouched making an ass of himself. Upon her arrival in his immediate vicinity, she threw one leg back and then swung it rapidly forward, putting all her small body's weight into the kick. As the tip of her boot connected with Alec's ribs, there was an audible, and sickening sound that was somewhere between a crack and a crunch. Despite her diminutive frame, the vampiress could put quite a bit of force into such an impact.

With that, she turned, glancing over her shoulder as she strode from the room. "I'm done with this crap. I know that what I just did could be called an act of war, but I don't give a fuck. Sometimes the harshest lessons are the most effective. I'm going to see about the others, they've been gone a while. Those who wish feel free to accompany."

Of course, she did not let on her growing concern. As she entered the hall beyond, she recognized the smell as definitely being blood. Cursing her instincts for the excitement the odor triggered in her, Erzsebet quickened her pace, her concern growing. She had no idea where exactly she was going, simply following her nose so to speak until she came upon a scene that quite clearly told her that something had gone very wrong indeed.

"What in Ithtyr's name happened?" she exclaimed, shocked at what she saw.

Feeling the crack of the ceramic plating inside his Kevlar vest, Alec doubled over as he fell off from where he was seating and landed in the floor.

Alec felt the wind knocked out of him as he landed on the ground. Dmitriy looked at where the vampiress had walked awe and slowly crouched down and looked at him. "Mmmr. President?" he asked Alec, stammering as he was unsure if Alec was back to his senses or not.

Alec, still slightly in pain, turned his head behind as he slowly got up. "Ugh...what the hell happened? " He looked at his hands, covered with Rajay's blood, and felt his face, partially also covered in blood. "Did I...?"

"Not what you may think, sir," Dmitriy said, his voice still shake as he slowly helped up Alec. "Your old soldier days, when you saw first hand you CO killed, you started to feel some bloodlust, and slowly began to drink Rajay's blood." He helped him up and cleaned off the blood with a napkin nearby. "The vampire admiral wanted to know what your excuse was for acting this way, and well you didn't answer, so she knocked you out. I was completely terrified. I didn't know what to do."

Alec looked at him and sighed. It indeed has been a while. "Yea, I had no idea why I acted that way. It must have triggered something dormant in me...and ugh," he winced, feeling the pain still. The plate was shattered from the kick, but had it not been for the kevlar, it would have been worse. "I'll deal with it," he said to Dmitriy. "Please...trust me. Now, let's go and follow the others."

Erzsebet walked into the room to see Alex crumpled onto his knees in the middle of a room filled with chaos and confusion. It would have appeared as if he was reduced to a weeping child whose favorite toy had just been broken. Meanwhile, Tresckow was profusely sweating and furiously typing away at a nearby terminal along with many of the guards who once stood tall with guns at the ready. Most disturbingly however was Dante who grasped his head in his hands as if he were about to use all his deadly force to rip it clean off his neck.

Erzsebet walked in just the moment to hear Alex's pleading voice trembling his cry "Red Queen, please don't...."

In that almost palpable despondant moment, Erzsebet was subjected to the feelings of terror, frustration, rage, and hopelessness. The emotions hung heavily in the air, each person in the room contributing to the permeating fear.

"What in Ithtyr's name happened?" she exclaimed, shocked at what she saw.

"Not now, damn it," a guard nearby cursed as he turned away briefly from his terminal, "Red Queen is set to destroy The Reich if we don't crack that damn code now."

A solider nearby Dante's terminal shifted uneasily, debating whether he should question the route of destruction highlighted on his screen. It seemed that no matter which path they took, it would result in everyone's death. "Dante, please sir, let me take over for you," the soldier finally mustered up enough courage to speak, "you look exhausted. Tell me what to do and I will complete it for you, sir."

Dante slowly removed his head from his bloody hand and turned to look at the guard, but his gaze moved beyond him to Erzsebet standing in the doorway. He had surely hoped that she would not have seen him in such a weakened condition again, but found himself grateful that she was now in the room. He attempted to stand for a moment, but immediately sank back into his chair, allowing a few more drops of blood onto the floor again. More forcefully, he commanded his body to stand, albeit shakingly as he walked to Erzsebet.

He made it half way there before he suddenly stopped, a blinding rage instantly filled his face. His head screamed with the voices of hundreds of demons. His face contorted with the rage. It boiled over, flaring behind his eyes. "SHUT UP!" he bellowed loudly, echoing off the walls and instantly silencing everyone inside in the building.

The subsequent eerie silence that permeated the room was only broken by Dante's heavy breathing. Everyone watched in silence, confused and terrified. There appeared to be no explanation to Dante's outburst, but he seemed instantly relieved when the silence stilled the room. He took a few faltering steps backwards and began to fall, catching the chair on his way down. With the force he hit the chair with, it fell backwards, sending him crashing to the ground.

Dante did not move, merely staring at the floor, as if it would give him the answer to their terrible dilemma. At that moment, he was thrown back to the darkened room of his base. Warm blood spilled from his abdomen as he looked up to see a beautiful woman standing before him, a look of empathetic disbelief in her eyes. He stared intently at Erzsebet, seeing only Queen Surukai's compassionate eyes in that dimly lit room. He could hear the frantic cries of the other leaders present, who now feared the premature death of Dante, thus resulting in horrendous consequences to the war that had just barely begun.

Dante reached out to Erzsebet, his vision clouded with images of the past. "My Queen," he spoke quietly, draining his very life to utter those words. He began to slip back, falling towards the floor.

The room stood still, suspended in time, their fears and concerns temporarily removed as everyone watched Dante collapse backwards. Few could believe what had just happened and those who understood what was transpiring were too shocked to move to Dante's side. Everyone became so transfixed on Dante that no one realized the timer on the terminals had ceased counting away the seconds of their lives.

"Dante?" Alex asked cautiously, almost afraid to receive a response.

When Dante did not respond, Alex asked the question on everyone's mind, "is he dead?" Afraid to move, as if movement would either confirm his death or awaken the beast, Alex remained where he knelt, looking to others for answer.

Alec walked in slowly, as Dmitriy walked in front, hurriedly as he heard the screams.

From what he could tell, Alec presumed it was Dante in frustration at something.

Just as they were about to enter the room, Alec heard a blood curdling yell from Dante, and then a thud. He appeared from the entry way. Some sort of control room, with Alex, Tresckow, and Dante's guards around, as well as the vampiress who kicked him. In the middle lay Dante, with a pool of blood slowly oozing from beneath his body. Had he been shot?

"Is he dead?" Alec asked, not knowing what just transpired. "Why aren't you helping him?" As much as he knew about basic field medical procedures from his time as a soldier, he was not sure if the guards around him would let him close. It looked like Alex was analysing the body, one of the possible few foreigners allowed near him.

"My Queen..." Dante's lips trembled as he looked down at the profusely bleeding wound in his abdomen. The searing hot bullet still burned his insides as the warm blood quickly soaked through his uniform to the outer jacket. The recently fired Desert Eagle lay next to him, but he made no attempt to reach for it in order to provide himself with protection against a room full of enemies. He merely turned his eyes to the wound and felt his life quickly slip away. He was losing too much blood too quickly and he could feel it with each struggling breath he took.

"My Queen..." he mouthed silently again as his vision began to darken in the already dark room, the warmth of his body retreating from his limbs to preserve his core.



Within in the basement room, unease began to stifle the room. No one seemed to move to help Dante, but rather all appeared to be frozen in time as if breathing would somehow shatter a frail window of illusion.

The slow rhythmic movements of Dante's chest became the only discernible movements....confirming that Dante was indeed alive. Even so, no one moved to help him. Fear of awakening the beast paralyzed everyone, cementing them all to the very spots they stood.

With prowling movements and a fierce determination, the deadly hunters moved in, a coordinated movement that seemed so intricately and perfectly planned and executed. In one moment, every was staring at Dante, in the next, complete and total darkness enveloped the room. The Reich Freedom Fighters moved in silently as the guards shuffled to find one another and try to maintain control over the situation. With several shins smashing off objects and loud cursing, Dante was scooped off the floor and carried out of the room. Code Six moved in like a confident predator about to snatch an unsuspecting prey sleeping peacefully away. He moved behind Erszebet and wrapped his good arm around her mouth while using the weight of his body to guide her out of the room. "Follow me and say nothing," his cold emotionless voice whispered into her ear.

They traveled quickly, as if every step was previously plotted due to the flawless execution of movements even in the complete darkness. Once away from the room, Code Six relinquished his hand from Erszebet's mouth and instead placed it on her back to guide her up the several flights of stairs, not that she needed the cues.

Once in the security of Dante's room, the doors shut and locked, did the lights turn back on. Dante was sprawled out on the floor with two black suited men hoovered over him holding surgical tools.

"You can sit Erzsebet," Code Six motioned with his functioning arm toward the edge of the bed, "I had a few questions for you. What were your previous interactions with Dante like?"

Not knowing what to do, Erzsebet watched as Dante spoke to hallucinations. She wished she could do something, but had no experience in dealing with something like this. The vampiress was a soldier, a killer, not a doctor. What if she only made things worse?

Before the Callisdrunian could even say anything, the lights cut out and the room's inhabitants were plunged into complete darkness. Erzsebet swore to herself as memories of underground torture flooded back to her. She shivered against her will at the thoughts, of brutal and seemingly pointless torment, questions that she didn't know the answers to. She could hear footsteps amid the cursing and screams, and then more cursing as there were several banging noises. This was definitely some sort of planned infiltration. Quickly, the woman tried instead to think of what she would do now, to avoid repeating the experience. If I can only get to a wall... and then to the corner of the room... she planned.

Alas, events overtook her. Suddenly there was someone behind her and then a hand over her mouth, forcing her away. "Follow me and say nothing," a man's voice whispered to her ear. Erzsebet instinctively reached for the axe still at her waist, to lash out at this unknown assailant and hopefully disembowel him, spattering his insides all over the room. The thought was uncomfortably appetizing. However, her hand had not yet reached the weapon when she reconsidered such a choice. While there was a chance of succeeding, it was probably more likely that she would fall, in a blaze of glory only known to herself and ultimately futile. Besides, the unknown man had not rendered her unconscious, or even sought to disarm her, though he almost certainly knew that she carried a lethal weapon.

Relaxing slightly, Erzsebet nodded, letting herself be led away from the scene. She felt the hand removed from over her mouth, repositioned to her back. Noting that she was not being pushed so much as guided, the vampiress walked forward, eventually coming to some stairs that they ascended, her own hands on the railing and wall.

When finally they stopped, they seemed to be in a small room. The darkness was not complete here, a little light streamed in through the window, and as such, Erzsebet found she could see much better. Almost immediately, though, the lights came back on, revealing her unknown... captors? Or were they?

Instantly, she noticed Dante sprawled on the floor. Over him stood two men, both in black suits. Their hands contained surgical tools. Erzsebet silently wondered what they were up to. Will they save him or make things worse?

Another man asked her to sit on the bed, mentioning he had a few questions. The vampiress did sit, crossing one leg ending in a black booted foot over the other. The first question was a bit of a surprise, but Erzsebet concealed this to the best of her ability. Her face instead displayed the mask she usually wore, silent intensity, with a bit of a crazed look because of the constant rage her emerald eyes held.

"My interactions with Dante?" she mused, as calmly as she was able. "We had a short chat here before," Erzsebet said, gesturing at the room around her. "He showed me his scars. I showed him mine."

Code Six readjusted the black fabric that held his nonfunctional arm at chest level. The fingers and hand dangled helplessly with the movement, indicating that they no longer responded to his control. Despite the uselessness of his reattached arm and the obvious hindrance it appeared to present, Code Six's stony face showed no indication that the dead arm bothered him in the slightest. In fact, it would appear as if nothing phased him...his face permanently fixed with that apathetic stare, frozen in a world of unfeeling.

"I merely ask because he referred to you as My Queen. Are you familiar with this reference," Code Six questioned as he walked over to Dante to briefly examine the progress. With bloody hands the men worked to resew the areas where the stitches had torn through during his excursion.

"Your name is Erzsebet Sorvik, a Rear-Admiral with Callisdrun's First Cruiser Squadron, the Black Fleet, am I correct?" Code Six asked, still looking at Dante but addressing his question across the room. The light caught his reflective shades, sending a quick glare as he turned his head towards her. Her own bewildered face staring back at her from the lens.

"My name is Damon. I work for Der Fuhrer Dyszel's Covert Ops. I was keeping surveillance over this meeting when one of my men hacked a secure line. The Govindian ambassadors that are attending this summit are actually a diversion for something much larger. They came to The Reich with the intent of profiting from their surrender. They brought their naval fleets not as protection but with the determination to destroy any military opposition that they may face in the upcoming future of their plans for world domination. I looked back on their history and found these," Damon removed a file stored inconspicuously in the sling that upheld his dead arm.

He walked over and handed Erzsebet the folder. Contained inside were pictures of battle fields, crying and injured children, Govindian soldiers, everything that would indicate a nation's previous involvement in destruction elsewhere. "We found this information when we tapped their data bases. This information is classified and it took a great deal of work to hack their networks. They have a very secure system, but we have the power of The Red Queen," Code Six confessed, a silver tongue so smooth and flawless no one would doubt his credibility, especially because it was backed by the steel wall of Code Six's emotionless face marked only with the tattoo parallel to his right eye.

"I suggest you move quickly to plan a counter offensive. I have done the math and if you act now, you may gain the advantage of a surprise counter strike. They are not prepared for you to put up much of a fight being that you are here in this summit. They planned on taking your fleets by surprise. Drive them out to Genocide's range if you need additional fire power. The ship cannot provide much help to close range naval battles but take the battle out further and you will be able to benefit from that ships fire power. Just keep your ships away at the same time," Code Six warned, apparently having knowledge of ships positions and the ranges in which would be needed to battle at.

Meanwhile, Dante groaned as the men continued to fish around in his abdomen. He tried to sit up but succeeded only in being pushed to the floor more forcefully. "He is waking up," one of the other men spoke, a man dressed remarkably similar to Code Six.

"Thank you for sharing the obvious," Code Six spoke, his voice an icy presence in the room. "Kneel on his arms while you work and work quickly," he ordered as the men scrambled to restrain Dante's arm with their own body weight.

"Do you need a lift?" Code Six asked Erzsebet, offering to take her to her ship to provide her with the fastest transportation available.

Scanning the room with her emerald eyes, Erzsebet still kept her guard up. Is he even human? the vampiress thought as she noted Code Six's unflinching gaze, despite the fact that his arm hung useless at his side.

The fact that the lights remained on put her slightly more at ease, but still, these people were obviously capable of things she didn't particularly want to think about. So, she responded to Damon's assertion of her identity. "You are correct." It seemed likely they already knew much.

"I think he was hallucinating, thought I was someone else," Erzsebet said, addressing the man's first question. "While I used to be the heir apparent for leadership in my clan, I can assure you, I am not a queen, or any kind of royalty."

As the operative explained how they'd gotten the intelligence on Govindia, the Callisdrunian nodded. Red Queen was likely quite capable of hacking just about any nation's network. The images before Erzsebet appeared to illustrate quite a sinister plan. In the chaos of a surrender, an opportunistic nation did stand a good chance of profit.

Surprised by the offer of transportation, the vampiress nodded. "That would be appreciated, yes. In light of what you've told me, getting back to my command as soon as possible is a big priority." Though inside she had been terrified of being dragged off secretly again, she felt she'd done her best to outwardly portray someone calm and professional.

Already, her mind was racing over the tactical situation, as she tried to remember if she knew the exact composition of the Govindian battle group. Unless the Battle Fleet came to her assistance in time, she felt her ships would be at an incredible disadvantage. Oh well, not that unfamiliar for this unit...

The moroii child jumped onto the bed with Genocide, looking at her with those huge green eyes, her braids bouncing to and fro.

"But you'll miss dinner!" Alkony squealed. "We're having roast venison and potatoes and blackberry pie!" Clearly, this was very important to her. An event of cosmic significance, even. "And you can tell more about that Mahanoy place you're from. And Whitecastle."

"Alkony, dear," Madar said soothingly. "She can sleep if she wants to. I bet she's quite tired. She's had a very long day."

At that point, Erika yawned. "Yeah... I'll say. Unlike Gen, I'll stay up for dinner, though."

Code Six looked to the progress on Dante a final time. His men had it under control, but Dante was becoming increasingly conscious of his surroundings and thus more resistant. "Keep him down or else he will just tear the stitches again," Code Six ordered before leaving with Erzsebet.

He once again re-adjusted the makeshift sling that shifted as he turned his body. Dead weight he told himself as he walked with Erzsebet out of the room.

"I have a helicopter waiting nearby. I will escort you the entire way Admiral. It would be a disservice against mein Fuhrer to not protect her vested interests. She places you and your nation in high regards Admiral," Code Six's smooth and flawless imitation of the once renowned Reich operative rolled off his tongue. It even carried itself with the subtle shift in body movement as Code Six stepped heavier with his left foot in a slight march, as if a cadence was honed into his body movements.

As they walked, Code Six handed Erzsebet some more papers of the Govindian fleet formations and positions. "This was their last recorded positions. We do not believe that they have moved from these positions. They may assist you in your plans," Code Six offered the pictures, which were indeed accurate positions of the Govindian fleets.

True to his word, Code Six escorted Erzsebet to the helicopter. "Let me come with you," Code Six offered, "I can relay the information to your superiors if you need me to. I also know how to get past Whitecastle's air surveillance, which is extremely tight right now due to the threat on national security."

Genocide pondered the words momentarily, her stomach uncontrollably grumbling in response to the sound of blackberry pie.

"I'm kind of hungry," she sheepishly confessed, looking down at the bedsheets as if she were in trouble for something, "what's ven-son?" She looked confused, somewhat frightened at the sound of the unusual food item.

"It's deer meat!" Alkony cheerfully answered, as if this delicacy was the best thing to eat in the world.

"Deer? Like a real deer?" Genocide gasped, fear entering her eyes. "But they live on daddy's complex? You don't eat them! They are friends!" Genocide sharply replied, true fear and horror at seeing her playtime friends served on a plate, antlers and all.

"Good to know," Erzsebet said, responding to the operative's flattery. She wasn't one much for pleasantries, and not that talkative when her duties called. While the agent's manner grated on her slightly, the man had done his job, and with this intelligence revelation, it was time to do hers. She had been suspicious of the Govindians earlier, her wariness exacerbated by the bizarre behavior of that nation's leader and representative.

Briefly, the vampiress looked over the documents that Damon handed her. "Very well. You shall accompany me on board my flagship, the Ithtyr" the admiral said.

Quickly, using long trained reflexes and familiarity with means of transportation used in the military (most of her fleet's battlecruisers had a helicopter or two on board themselves, so the vehicle was a familiar type for her), Erzsebet boarded the helicopter. It seemed likely that there was a battle to be joined.

"No, wolves are friends, deer are food," Alkony said matter-of-factly, thinking it strange that Gen did not know this. "I'll eat your venison if you don't want it, though."

"Alkony, as strange as it may be to us, not everyone eats meat, even venison," Madar said, not quite chastising the youngster, but reining her in nonetheless.

Erika looked over to Genocide. "Are you a vegetarian, Gen? I mean, do you not eat meat at all?" While not exactly common, there were vegetarians in Callisdrun. Though almost no moroii were, Erika was sure of that.

Meanwhile, back in the workstation, the lights cut on to reveal Alec sitting in a corner, his pants wet while a rank odorous smell wafting from him. He looked around dazed, his finger stuck up his nose, as he tried to think of what was different. Dante and Erzsebet had gone missing along with many other crucial soldiers. There was not a trace to their whereabouts left behind.

"Uh....what's different?" Alec asked as he looked around, finger emerged to mid-digit in his nostril, "uh...nuthin happened George.....nothing happened."

Horror once again penetrated Genocide as she gasped. "Oh no, I don't eat them. No, no, no....they are friends!" She could see before her the little ducks in the lakes, the deer in the forest, the birds in the sky, and all the creatures of the forest living their lives untouched by humans.

"Nope, we don't eat them" she protested, covering her mouth in defiance of the thought.

She listened to Erika and nodded, still unable to open her mouth with fear that one of those animals might find their way into it.

Once aboard the Ithtyr, Code Six followed Erzsebet. His step again fell into the military cadence of the late Damon's stride; a well known and remembered characteristic walk that defined Damon in his time.

The reflective shades mirrored the faces of those who passed them on their way to the bridge. Faces that looked somewhat perplexed at the sight of their beloved Admiral back aboard the ship when she was supposed to be in the middle of a peace conference. On top of that, she was now being trailed by a large wall of muscle with a dead arm, whose entire demeanor seemed to bear a sense of coldness and apathy.

Once at the bridge, Erszebet resumed her command as Code Six slipped back into the shadows, out of immediate view of anyone who might come in to talk with her, but still within distance for answering questions and following the conversation at hand.

Three One paced outside the control room silently....one of the many ominious unseen shadows of The Reich. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets as he stared at his reflection in a picture's glass. His face looked emotionless although not nearly as emotionless as Code Six's face; it seemed to carry with it a hint of deep unrest and sadness. The reflective shades mirrored light in the picture's reflection....there appeared to be no eyes behind those black frames of deindividualization. He removed the glasses, disconnecting himself from the thousands of voices in his head. There they were, hiding behind darkness, small pools of emerald green staring back at him, sparkling with the light....an unexpected sight for the soulless hunters of The Reich.

He stared into his own eyes for several minutes....it had been years since he had last seen them. They carried with them now more weight of sadness than they had before, as if the past few years had been more than trying on his being. He seemed to look beyond the eyes, into a truth hidden deep within them, finding himself looking back into the times that internally tore him to pieces. The fracturing of The Reich Freedom Fighters was never anticipated.....Code Six....Code Six of all people fronting that rebellion. He had known Code Six his entire life and even though friendship was a vague concept to their kind, he felt a level of camaraderie that would probably exist as friendship in another world's definition. If only the price for that loyalty was not so high.....they lost a lot of good agents in that fracturing, their former agents bodies now piles of dust scattered throughout the abomination known as Konigsreich der Mathias. He could even remember leaving the mansion and looking back to see James's body, or Thirteen as they called him, still propped up against the pillar where he had died at the hands of one of his own people, dying to protect the organization he believed in. He was a good agent, one of their best, and had died a shadow, never to be remembered in the pages of history.

Three One looked into the eyes which melted again into the shadow. He was a shadow and had never before regretted that life until now. The organization had fractured and each and every one was forced to choose a side in that divide. It was only now that he wondered if one side was even "right" to begin with. Shaking his head, Three One rubbed his face, as if the ritualistic "washing" would cleanse the thoughts from his head. He looked up again his hand covering the tattoo placed parallel to this right eye. The eagle carrying the flaming Molotov cocktail in its talons; the symbol of freedom and bloodshed merged into one. At what cost would they protect freedom and what cost would they ensnare freedom? Was it freedom they were even fighting to control?

The thoughts were too deep and his time was too few. He had his lifetime to question the meaning of his existence, but now he was a piece in their perpetual game of chess, an important piece to be moved for that unprecedented Check Mate, laying ahead several moves but unseen to the opponent. His mission was far too important right now and he knew he could not allow the entire operation to fail based on his selfish reflections.

Again he immersed himself into the world of thousands of voices. His mind instantly felt at home with the noise, falling into a serene calm as one who has lived in a major city their entire life can only sleep with the blaring of horns and movement in the background.

"Move." The unmistakable cold voice ordered in a single word, barely audible to anyone unaccustomed to listening to it.

He took a deep breath and again shook his head free of his previous thoughts. He surveyed the room to find that most of the people were still in their same positions, a look of bewildered confusion on their faces. "Powerout," he spoke quietly to what appeared to be himself, but was reciprocated with the instant submersion into darkness. He had planned his movements in his head, seventeen steps forward, three to the right, and eighteen steps back.

The flawless chess master moved his piece, having already anticipated his opponent's response. Again a number of cursing at the damn unpredictability of the lights and ponders of what the hell was happening. He heard the phrase, "who's there?" and heard the shuffling right to the very spot he was standing, as if the person had known someone was there and was trying to free from its presence only to fall prey to the murderous hunter. His hand slid over Alec's mouth before Alec could mutter another word. The Govindian president squirmed and fought against him, but when Three One pressed harder on Alec's mouth, wrapping his hand around his face, simultaneously stifling breathing from his nose and mouth and pulled the president's body to his own, holding him slightly above the ground with his arm pressing into his diaphragm, it was a matter of seconds before the panicking president fell limp in his arms. He hoisted up the president on his shoulder and carried him out of the room, counting his steps as planned. He listened for the unmistakable sound of another agent right behind him, no doubt carrying the body of Dmitri.

They made their ways to the bright sunlight of a side door, safely far enough away from the control room, before the lights were snapped back on. Again they revealed a room with more occupants missing. The confusion was stifling in the room as everyone began to panic and fear for their own lives. The masterpiece of The Reich Freedom Fighters....a canvas painted with fear and confusion and subsequent total powerlessness in the midst of it all.

Once outside, they boarded another helicopter waiting just for them and took off towards their destination, the battleship Ithtyr.

Horror once again penetrated Genocide as she gasped. "Oh no, I don't eat them. No, no, no....they are friends!" She could see before her the little ducks in the lakes, the deer in the forest, the birds in the sky, and all the creatures of the forest living their lives untouched by humans.

"Nope, we don't eat them" she protested, covering her mouth in defiance of the thought.

She listened to Erika and nodded, still unable to open her mouth with fear that one of those animals might find their way into it.

Looking to Madar, Erika asked "Do you think you could tell whoever's on kitchen duty tonight to make sure there's plenty to eat besides venison?" Vegetarianism was rare, though not unheard of, among Callisdrunians. Unsurprisingly, it was not a dietary choice moroii made frequently, if ever.

The older woman nodded. "Certainly, I'll go tell them." She strode off, elegant even with her militaristic gait.

Alkony cocked her head. "You're weird, venison is good." Seeming to decide that this sort of strangeness was permissible, she added "but that's okay, my friend Olaf is weird, too, so I guess it's all right."

Looking back to her charge, Erika said "Gen, no one is going to make you eat meat. There will be other food for you. Madar is going downstairs to tell them to cook some other food, too, that will be vegetarian."

Once aboard the Ithtyr, Code Six followed Erzsebet. His step again fell into the military cadence of the late Damon's stride; a well known and remembered characteristic walk that defined Damon in his time.

The reflective shades mirrored the faces of those who passed them on their way to the bridge. Faces that looked somewhat perplexed at the sight of their beloved Admiral back aboard the ship when she was supposed to be in the middle of a peace conference. On top of that, she was now being trailed by a large wall of muscle with a dead arm, whose entire demeanor seemed to bear a sense of coldness and apathy.

Once at the bridge, Erszebet resumed her command as Code Six slipped back into the shadows, out of immediate view of anyone who might come in to talk with her, but still within distance for answering questions and following the conversation at hand.

"What happened at the peace conference?" Leif, her executive officer asked.

Erzsebet gave a cynical half chuckle. "Fell apart, predictably enough. Several people got shot, and the region was almost destroyed."

The other naval officer looked pensive for a moment and said "Ah, so frustratingly normal."

"Exactly," Erzsebet said. Moving up to the comm, she cleared her throat, and began speaking. "Squadron to battle stations. I have reason to believe that there will be action soon. All vessels get underway, course to be relayed by my X O."

With that she stepped away and made to leave the bridge. "Leif, take command, I'm going to go change into something more comfortable to fight in." As she strode towards the door that led to her tiny personal cabin (the ship had been designed and built by the Sorviks, and was no exception to their tendency to make officer's quarters extremely spartan), she caught Code Six's eye and said, quietly "Well, come on. You don't think I could possibly trust you enough to let you remain on my bridge in my absence, do you?"

Code Six stepped from his concealed shadow but no further. A moment of awkward silence and unfulfilled expectations lingered briefly in the air as Erzsebet seemed to impatiently await Code Six to follow orders.

Using his noninjured arm, he extended it towards the incoming helicopter, hovering nearby the ships as it waited patiently to be granted permission to land.

"I have a surprise for you Admiral; that is, if you allow my agents to land. They have taken the liberty to procure a further leverage over these unsophisticated fools....to imagine they believe they can take on your fleet."

Erzsebet stood for a moment and cocked her eyebrow, momentarily questioning Code Six's sanity. But the man had provided her with this tip....how untrustworthy could he be? With a slight careless wave of her hand, she granted permission as she motioned for Code Six to follow her.

Nodding politely, Code Six moved forward with a precise step, a glimpse of a well tuned hunter peaking through his diplomatic facade. But just in a flash, it was gone, as Code Six slid with ease into the slight limp and cadence of a seasoned solider. He followed wordlessly, just a few steps behind Erzsebet, as she guided him into the narrow cramped admiral's quarters.

Stepping inside cautiously, Code Six's bulky frame narrowed the space around him. Finding it far more difficult to move around the room's objects, he resigned to standing nearby the door. However, his attention was drawn to the pictures on the wall.

Playing his part, he inquired about the two pictures, feigning an interest in the reasons Erzsebet had selected this pictures to liven the simple room. Truth be told, he already knew enough about Callisdrun's history to know "The Charge" was a tribute to the navy's last stand suicide effort to allow their troops more time to evacuate. Despite his inability to feel emotions, he had to give them credit, they had balls.


Meanwhile, the helicopter landed on Ithtyr's helicopter pad with a whooshing and whirling of deadly blades. The wind whipped around the crew as the occupants inside quickly exitted the helicopter, dragging with them two blind-folded men. The two men kicked and cursed, trying to escape their captors, but to no avail. Three One quickly subdued his catch as he tossed the body forward onto the deck of the ship.

"The President of Govindia," Three One announced coldly, looking down onto the fallen man, whose bagged head was pressed against the hard ship's surface while his hands were bound tightly behind his back. Three One showed little emotion as he stepped away from the helicopter. "He is to be taken to Admiral Sorvik for questioning."

As soon as she got inside her quarters, Admiral Sorvik went to the wardrobe in the corner, next to her (unmade) bed. Sitting down, she unlaced her boots and pulled them off. Though it involved undoing many of the top eyelets, Erzsebet had been a soldier for a long time, besides having been raised in the Sorvik clan, whose members tended to wear boots even in civilian life, and so had gotten very quick at the mundane task. Many now preferred the newer boots with the zipper on the inward side, for the greater convenience, but the admiral stuck to the older design.

As Code Six mentioned his "surprise" for her, she listened silently, unconsciously separating the main point from the flattery. Though the man exuded confidence, the vampiress remained worried. While her battlecruisers were impressive ships, with their awesome size (though in turn dwarfed by the super battleship, Genocide), their intimidating appearance was deceptive, as unlike the battleships in Andersen's battle fleet, their armor was a bit sparse, sacrificed in order to achieve their incredible speed. They were meant to hunt and destroy weaker forces. Nodding, she stood up, letting Code Six take his time. He'd reveal what the further leverage he spoke of entailed.

Without further adieu, she undid the strings that held her dress to her small frame. The garment fell to the floor, revealing just how tiny a person Erzsebet was, as well as the fact that she was apparently not a big believer in using underwear (something that many who served with her already knew). Surprised at the sudden change of subject as Code Six asked about the pictures that decorated her wall and her desk. Turning to look at the painting that dominated one wall, she looked at it for a moment before replying.

"That's a painting of the moment in history that defines Callisdrun's navy, as well as this unit in particular," the petite soldier said after a minute. "Many nations' armed services have rivalries between each other, and it can get ugly. In Callisdrun, after that battle, almost eighty years ago, there is no such rivalry, because only the words 'the Charge' are necessary to remind us all of how much we care about each other." Erzsebet paused, somehow completely serious even in her stark nudity as she withdrew cargo pants and a weather beaten red tank top from the drawers under the wardrobe. "Our army had taken very bad losses and was on the retreat in the failed northern campaign against Altar Reng. An army cut off any land retreat, and so they had to be evacuated by sea, so troopships were sent. It was very clever trap, I have to say. Almost the entire enemy battle fleet was waiting for them, and sprang the trap in the midst of the evacuation. It would have been a slaughter, from which the country would not have recovered. We would have lost the war within a year if that army hadn't lived to fight another day." Again she paused, clutching the clothes in her hand, as if transported across generations to that fateful day. "The only naval force in range was this one, First Cruiser, which had been hunting enemy convoys in the area. At that time, as is still the case today, it was made up mainly of battlecruisers, which, as you know, are fast and heavily armed, but don't have enough armor to stand up to battleships. But they went anyway, because if they didn't, no one would. And so they set flank speed and charged into the enemy battle line, which also outnumbered them, in the teeth of a gale."

Looking at the painting, she pointed to one of the battlecruisers depicted, which was being ripped apart by a cataclysmic explosion. "That's Valkyrie, the first loss in the battle. She took a thousand men and women to the bottom with her." She moved her hand, pointing to the battlecruiser in the foreground, which was on fire and riddled with hits. "This is Mjolnir, moments before her own demise. While en route, there was some discussion over which ship would be in the vanguard, the most vulnerable position, the one that would come under the heaviest fire. The men and women of Mjolnir volunteered, knowing that if they were in the vanguard, they wouldn't be coming back. Valkyrie had a few survivors. The twelve hundred souls on Mjolnir went down with the ship, the turret gunners still firing her rifles even as she sank, a blazing monolith of defiance. They're credited with scoring the fatal hits on the enemy flagship." She looked back to Code Six and her face framed a half smile. "The Charge was basically a suicide mission, everyone knew that even going in, but they did their duty. It was a tragedy, and the most crushing defeat in the thousand year history of the Callisdrunian navy. But it was also our finest hour. The evacuation was saved, and the nation survived. That's when we started painting the flagship black, in remembrance, and started calling First Cruiser 'the Death Squadron' and 'the Black Fleet'." Erzsebet chuckled. "The navy of Altar Reng also started referring to this squadron as the 'Ghost Fleet,' out of grudging respect. They were never known for treating prisoners well, but when the war ended and the few survivors that the enemy had picked up returned, we learned that after the battle, the enemy sailors saluted them. There are so very few survivors now... they're all over 90, most over a hundred. Still, we sail there every year on the anniversary to pay our respects. I keep this art in my quarters to remind me and my officers what duty means."

Finally, noticing that her tattooed, pierced, scarred body was still unclad, she pulled on the dark grey cargo pants she'd been holding. Looking at the pictures on her desk, she said "Those are reminders of old friends now gone and better times." Erzsebet's smile was bittersweet. She did not cry, but looked as if she wanted to. "Those pictures are the serious and silly photos of the forward two turret crews of the CDF Varghona, one of two survivors of The Charge, along with the Isten Kardja. I was commander of the second turret crew, you can see me flipping the bird at the camera in the silly picture there." She pointed to the image of herself ten years younger. "The Varghona was the flagship before this ship, the Ithtyr was built, that's way it's still painted black. She was a very happy ship in those days, morale was very high. It was fun, her crew was like a second family. We'd play pranks on each other, we loved each other, and I was in love with Knut Tveitan, who's next to me in that picture." Sighing, she continued. "But it couldn't last, I guess. On exercises, turret one exploded, killing everyone inside and quite a few in the my turret as well, and wounding lots of others, including myself. I lost a lot of friends, and the plans Knut and I'd made, that day." At this she pulled on the tank top, covering herself, though the gap between the bottom of the top and the waist of her pants revealed a tiny portion of the scars over the area where her womb had been.

Taking a well worn black leather belt with a loop for her axe from its hook on the wall and starting to thread it through the belt loops on her trousers, she said "That explains my decorations, I hope?"



On the helicopter landing pad, just forward of the fourth turret, ground crew scampered back and forth tying the newly arrived chopper down. There was no room in the small hangar, as both Ithtyr's spotting copters were parked inside. A squad of Berserkers stood guard, due to the unknown nature of the helicopter that had just arrived.

"Oh?" said their leader, looking down on the bound and blindfolded men that the occupants had deposited on the ground after they'd stepped off the chopper. "I'll see to it." He barked orders at three of his squad, and they brought the prisoners to their feet. "Who will I tell the admiral is responsible for this delivery?" One Berserker held each man, while a third kept her assault rifle leveled on them in case they tried any shenanigans.

"Inform Sorvik it is a gift from Mein Fuhrer," Three One spoke smoothly with a slight hint of a Reich accent in his voice while the sun glared off his reflective shades, "Package delivered." Turning away, he boarded the helicopter again, sitting in silence as the others shrugged. Surely, this was far from disturbing compared to all they had been through over the past several years.

Meanwhile, Code Six stood still, an unmoving fixture in the room. His gaze remained fixed on the young Sorvik even while Erzsebet stripped before him. Even the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest seemed to cease. It was as if the man turned to marble in the cramped quarters.

When Code Six failed to respond to Erszebet's remarks, she turned to watch him for several minutes. In silence he continued to stare past her at the picture despite her curious look. "What are you staring at?" Erzsebet asked, moving before his gaze.

Slowly and deliberately, he brought his head to face Erzsebet, an unusually cold and silent gesture. The dark shades reflected Erzsebet's own image, a somewhat thinner and distressed woman than she had remembered being; a woman thrown into hell who had to crawl her way back. In that moment, looking into his shades, she saw the darkness of that room, heard the dark voices, the threats. It all flooded back, but she was too proud to allow Code Six to see the chill running up her spine. Still, she stood in silence as Code Six stared into her eyes and she into her own reflection.

"I believe they are here," Code Six finally spoke, a cold voice devoid of emotion and compassion. "I suggest that you make them watch the destruction of their own fleets. It is a befitting punishment for a traitor of The Reich." With that, he exitted the room, ducking slightly to refrain from hitting his head off the frame.

The room was darkened, the curtains drawn tightly drowning out the midday sunlight. The ceiling was still, no shapes danced in subtle shadows upon it. Sounds were distant and muffled; no one immediately around. His heart was pounding, his breathing rapid, sweat was dripping down his exposed body....the effects of a distressed body. Sedative medications were wearing off and the pain of a recent incision and repairs could be felt breaking through, reminding him he was afterall a man, a fragile body, no more or less resistant the ailments afflicting mankind.

In a quick movement, he pushed himself into a sitting position, feeling the pulling of stitches. He looked the clean cut covered with sterile gauze. The wound was deep, but the bleeding had stopped. What they had done this time he could not determine through the sedatives effects clouding the connection between his mind and body. He could only think of his next move.....stop them.

Standing was more difficult than he had imagined it would have been. But he had been here before....he had survived worse. Dizziness and fatigue worked against him, but somehow he found himself dressed after several long minutes He would need to make a public appearance afterall. He needed their support; it was the only way.

Dressed in the solid black uniform completely devoid of insignia, he looked at himself for a moment in the mirror. It was evident he had suffered tremendously during his absence, but he was still himself. He would be recognized and that was what was most important now. They needed to remember who he was.

Throwing open the heavy doors had been an additional effort he lacked the energy to perform adequately. However, even as he opened them, the bright light poured itself into his room. His eyes took a moment to adjust before a man dressed in a black suit, with that eagle tattoo, and those black shades approached him. "You should be resting," the man ordered, his suggestion carrying the weight of a rifle butt to a head.

But he continued to walk despite the man's tone. He made it a single step before the man stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Orders are to keep you here."

The man restraining him saw his own death in a quick flash of the dark rage burning in the eyes before him. In a quick move, he twisted out of the man's grasp and grabbed the man's larynx, crushing it. The man tried to shoot him only to find that his own arm had been twisted so quickly behind his own head when he pulled the trigger.

The shot fired, sending the man's cranial contents onto the man before. He stared momentarily at a sliver of bone on his shoulder before picking it off and staring at it between his gloved fingers. Tossing it onto the ground, he listened to the rushing footsteps closing in on him. Voices filled his head; the anger boiled within. He turned to the drawn guns facing him, ordering him for an explanation, but there was no need for an explanation. The man had tried to stop him, he was asking for it.

"Dante?" the ghostly whisper of a soldier amid the crowd of drawn guns sounded.