Second Arc! Go!

Hello everyone! After a long hiatus, the OTWS finally continues. Though I'm afraid some of you might find it a bit disappointing that we are not going to continue the previous plotline, I promise we are going to return to it after this *cough*brief*cough* interlude.

And so, let met me present you with our newest arc! Have fun reading, and as always, comments are welcome. :P

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The Lone Wolf

????: "Eh, what a pain…"

A tall, well-built young man was walking down the streets of the recently rebuilt city, its old name long since forgotten. He wasn’t particularly strange-looking, if a little bit unkempt in appearance, but being armed while not bearing the crest of the Order still awarded him with countless suspicious stares from every direction of the mariner’s card, although they apparently didn’t bother him the slightest. Not caring about the inhabitants at all, the man has been walking in circles for more than a few hours at this point, only stopping for a few moments every now and then, and even then only so that he could take another look at the wrinkled piece of paper in his hand. As he once again did so, a huge sigh left his lips.

????: "Geez, I knew I should have bought that damn map!"

He looked around once again after finishing his momentarily outburst, only to realize that he had already seen these streets before.

????: "Man, I hate these kinds of mornings…"

He absentmindedly swept his short, brown hair back and drew a huge breath as he leveled his eyes upon the morning sky. From the position of the sun on the horizon he would have said it was roughly around nine, maybe ten o’clock. In simpler words, way too late. He glanced back onto the paper, which was clearly stating that the time of the meeting was at half past eight, with an underlined mention of arriving on time.

????: "If you want me to arrive on time, give me some proper instructions, you damned numskulls!"

After one more exhausted sigh, he started reading from the beginning, or at least he would have, if not for an unexpected interruption.

Officer: "*cough*"

????: "Huh?"

As he raised his gaze from the parchment, he found himself face to face with a big, heavily built man, clad in polished armor and with two similarly dressed underlings behind him. Templars, the Order’s peace-keepers. Technically they were the same as the police of old times, just with a fancy new name and in actual shiny armor. Nevertheless, the sudden appearance of the three lawmen was enough to make the man scratch the back of his head in embarrassment.

????: "Oh. Hehe… Was I too loud? Sorry, I have this bad habit of talking to myself when I’m annoyed…"

Officer: "That is the smaller problem here, sir. We have been informed of a suspicious, armed man roaming in the neighborhood."

????: "Ah, that was probably me. I’m a little lost here."

The three templars looked at each other in mild confusion at the man’s nonchalant reply, but the ranking officer in the front kept on pressing him nevertheless.

Officer: "I’m sorry to hear that, but the residents don’t take it kindly when armed strangers are circling around their homes. Could I ask you to state your business?"

????: "Oh, yes, right…"

The man absentmindedly looked at the two swords dangling at his side, then theatrically hit himself on the forehead, after which he offered a hand to the templar.

Nick: "My name is Nicolai Farkas, mercenary. You might have heard of me as the Lone Wolf or something like that. I don’t really keep track of my nicknames… Just call me Nick, okay?"

Once again, the three looked together in confusion after hearing the man’s moniker. Why wouldn’t they? The Lone Wolf was a name that spread through the region like wildfire, one of the most high-profile mercenaries of this age, whose exploits were so infamous that the Order itself forbidden everyone from hiring him within its jurisdiction in order to keep its subject out of harm’s way. By all intents and purposes, the Wolf was a living legend, so believing that the young man with the messy hair and a five-o’clock-shadow on his face was him was a tall order. Nevertheless, the officer returned the courtesy and shook his hand.

Officer: "I see… Could I ask what someone such as yourself would be doing here?"

There was a barely hidden sense of doubt in the huge man’s words, but Nicolai apparently either didn’t notice, or more likely didn’t care about it, answering as nonchalantly as ever.

Nick: "Ah, yeah, it’s actually a good thing that I met you guys. Could you tell me where I can find this address?"

Without missing a beat, he shoved the piece of paper into the face of the officer, who immediately sprung back in surprise. At first he was about to complain about such sudden movements and whatnot, but as he quickly read the address on the parchment, his eyes slowly narrowed into a suspicious squint.

Officer: "May I ask you what you are planning to do at this place?"

Nick: "Huh? Good question. I just have a meeting there with some commander-in-something, or prelate or the like, so even I don’t know what I’m going to do afterwards."

Officer: "…"

The officer once again looked the man up and down, and in the end gave a small, barely noticeable signal to the other two at his side, who all immediately stepped closer while watching the mercenary’s every move.

Officer: "I see. Could you come with us to our headquarters first? We would like to ask you a few questions regarding your meeting, and in the meantime we will see if you were expected at this address."

Nick: "Aww… Sorry, but that won’t do. I’m already late; I don’t have time for that."

The ranking officer forcefully cleared his throat, and was just about to put even more force into his words when the mercenary’s words cut him short.

Nick: "Hey, are you trying to pull a gun on me?"

Officer: "?!"

The sudden change in the tone of the Wolf’s voice made the chills run through the large man's spine, even though the words weren’t aimed at him. The mercenary in front of him was focusing his attention on one of his subordinates, the youngest of the three, who was already grabbing his holster.

Officer: "Hey calm down! No one’s going to draw a weapon on anyone!"

He tried to defuse the situation, but the young templar was already panicking under the overwhelming stare of the Wolf, and probably couldn’t even hear his words. And then, just to make things worse, the mercenary continued.

Nick: "I tell you, it’s a really, really bad idea to pull a gun on me. You are going to get hurt."

A thoughtful warning, a thinly veiled threat, a few words of nonchalant banter… It was simply impossible to tell the man’s intentions behind those words, which slowly brought the young templar over the edge. 

Young officer: "S-Shut up!"

Officer: "I told you to-!"

Young officer: "Uaah!"

Nick: "!"

Suddenly breaking under the abrupt rise of pressure, the young man unfastened his holster even against the direct order of his superior, and was already in the middle of pointing his gun at the mercenary. The ranking templar only had a split second to decide. He still wasn’t completely sure that they were facing off against the dreaded Lone Wolf, but just on the off-chance that they were, he wanted to avoid confrontation at all cost. Acting on this impulse, he already had the contours of the plan in his head. Grab the weapon, discipline the youngster, and hope that this show of courtesy would convince the man that they have no ill will against him and would give himself up to due process. However…

*CLANG*

Officer: "…"

Young officer: "U…Ua… Uaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!"

For a few moments he couldn’t believe his eyes. Before he could even move a muscle, the situation already played out. The Wolf was seemingly standing at the same spot, with his weapons drawn. One of his blades was aimed at the third officer’s neck, who was just about to reach for his weapon as well, while the other blade was pointing at the ground, with its job already finished. As for the youngest officer…

Young officer: "Aaaaaaaagh!!!"

He was writhing on the ground in front of them, clutching his right hand while howling like a banshee. He had seen the thing he was still gripping, albeit only for a moment, and he could hardly believe his eyes…

Nick: "Dammit, I did it again…"

The mercenary suddenly let his blades down and let out a huge sigh, seemingly both annoyed and embarrassed.

Nick: "Sorry, but I told you it was a really bad idea to draw a gun on me, didn’t I?"

The templar still had a hard time believing what just happened. He had only seen the aftermath, but it was enough to convince him that they were facing the real deal. After all, how could he question the mercenary’s identity when he just cut his underling’s pistol in half in front of his very eyes? No, saying that would have been misleading; it was less cutting and more tearing. The barrel of the gun and part of the firing-chamber was torn off the handle like it was caught in the middle of some sort of explosion, leaving only the broken handle in the completely pulverized hand of the young one, his fingers poking into impossible directions and broken like they hand numerous additional joints… And the mercenary did that so fast he literally couldn’t see it happen.

Nick: "Geez, I said I’m sorry! Be a man and stop wailing!"

In the end it was the Wolf’s annoyed voice that pulled him out of his stupor. It took him only a few mere seconds to assess the situation, and in the end, he had to realize that even with guns, they had no chance against this lone swordsman. As such, there was only one thing to do…

Officer: "I apologize for my subordinate’s behavior."

Nick: "Huh?"

For a moment, the mercenary looked completely baffled at the unexpected apology, then forcefully exhaled with a completely pitiful expression.

Nick: "Aw… Now I feel even worse! I told you I’m sorry, you shouldn’t apologize! I did it reflexively, so it was my fault…"

Officer: "Reflexively…?"

Hearing his by-the-way words made the officer even more nervous, not to mention, confused. Just how can someone do something like cutting a pistol in half reflexively?

Officer: "I… see. Still, now I’m even more inclined to ask you to come with me to the headquarters…"

Nick: "This would mean a lot of paperwork, right? *sigh* Now, I really can’t do that, I’m already late…"

For a few moments, he kept on gazing into the eyes of the mercenary, but in the end he had to recognize that the man was either a master of deception, or just a really nonchalant fool. Either way, this development left him with only one option.

Officer: "In that case, allow me to accompany you to your destination."

Nick: "Ah, I see. True, people would calm down if I was walking around with a templar. Good thinking."

Officer: "…"

He didn’t answer, but gave some quick orders to his uninjured subordinate and then joined the mercenary without any further ado.

Officer: "Please come this way, I’m going to lead the way."

Nick: "Oh, thanks."

The mercenary followed suit while sheathing his blades, however it only took a few moments of silence before he spoke up again.

Nick: "By the way, why the sudden support?"

Officer: "… My reasoning is simple. The sooner you are done with your business, the sooner you are out of this town."

Nick: "Ah, right, that’s solid."

Officer: "Not to mention, no matter how skilled you are, I doubt you would try to assault the Order’s cathedral on your own."

For a few moments Nicolai kept on blinking in confusion, then suddenly raised his voice like someone just stepped on his foot.

Nick: "Wait! The cathedral? You mean that huge-ass building over there?!"

Seeing the mercenary’s hand pointing at the enormous building towering above the rest of the half-ruined city, the officer curtly nodded.

Nick: "…"

Without a word, the mercenary took the wrinkled parchment out of the inner pocket of his coat and skimmed over it in silence once again, then turned it around and did the same with the other side of it. Finally, after about half a minute of increasingly tense silence…

Nick: "…"

Nick: "WOULD IT HAVE KILLED YOU TO WRITE THIS SMALL DETAIL INTO YOUR GODDAMN INSTRUCTIONS, YOU MORONS!?!?!"

Officer: "…"

And thus, after one more short moment of silence, the unusual pair continued on towards their destination, followed by even more curious eyes than before…

Nick: "*sigh* What a pain…"

With his templar guide leading the way, it only took them a few short minutes to reach their destination, courtesy of the numerous shortcuts they took. It was obvious the officer was more than familiar with the backstreets of the town. As such, Nicolai soon found himself on a relatively large square, with a few dozen people loitering all around him and the building of the cathedral at the other end, its belfry towering over them like a lighthouse over the shore. The most surprising characteristic of the building wasn’t its size, but its unusual design. Unlike the other regions, this one never had an old Christian church the Order could modify to their own use, and as such they had to build one from scratch. Because of that, unlike most of the Order cathedrals he had seen, which used to be fortress-like, roman-style churches, this particular one resembled one of the grandiose, gothic cathedrals of the old world, a rare sight on this continent. The building felt both imposing, but at the same time, surprisingly fragile.

Nick: "Wow… It’s even bigger from up-close…"

Officer: "…"

With the easygoing mercenary following in the shadow of the templar, they slowly made their way through the square, surrounded by the surprised and slightly suspicious glances of the passersby.

Nick: "People are quite perceptive around these parts, huh?"

Officer: "They mean no harm, they are only wary of the presence of any armed individuals."

Nick: "Ah, geez, stop being so diplomatic. I’m not going to get butt-hurt over some stares and slaughter them, okay?"

Officer: "…"

Nick: "*sigh* It’s not like I can fault them though. There are some seriously scary guys running amok around these parts."

Officer: "Indeed, there are quite a few of them. It’s a good thing they are cautious of them."

Nick: "... You are quite a cautious man yourself, aren’t you?"

Officer: "It’s part of my job."

Nick: "That’s true. Keep up the good work, okay?"

Once again, the templar was confounded by the man’s behavior. He was as nonchalant as one can get and his voice carried no malice at all. His words were always simple and honest, and he could even say that he had an intangible charm to him. With all honesty, he never would have expected the Lone Wolf to be such a seemingly harmless person, though that never stopped him from being on guard around him.

????: "Oh, finally."

As they reached the stairs leading up to the entrance of the cathedral, they were suddenly greeted by an unusual man. He was tall, even taller than the templar officer who was already about a head higher than the people around them, and at the same time he was surprisingly thin. His cast of features was peculiar as well, as it seemed like he had a permanent, slightly mincing smile plastered on his face. Finally, as if to complete the strange picture, there was the weapon on his back. It was a two-hander, a huge sword with a wide, slightly curved edge, and an intricate pattern of interwoven lines decorating its blade and guard. It was not only seemingly unsuited for actual combat, but also almost bigger than its wielder himself. As the man came even closer the officer immediately saluted to him, even though he was obviously not a templar. In fact, he was wearing a completely different kind of uniform, a design the mercenary have seen before; a simple yet subtly ornamented fabric garment favoring mobility over protection.

Officer: "Sir."

????: "Ah, sergeant. What a pleasant surprise. Are you escorting our guest?"

Officer: "Yes sir."

????: "I see. Good work. You are dismissed, I will handle him from now on."

Officer: "Understood."

The templar barely noticeably nodded, then suddenly turned around and left the two behind without even a word of goodbye.

Nick: "…"

????: "You were late, so let’s not waste any time. The archbishop is waiting."

Nick: "You can only blame your messengers for that."

????: "Huh, really?"

Nick: "Yeah."

For a few seconds, the two stood silent, like they were sizing up the other, until the swordsman suddenly turned around while gesturing to the mercenary.

????: "So, what are you waiting for? Please be so kind and follow me."

Nick: "…"

Still silent, the mercenary slowly shook his head and casually crossed his arms with a taunting smirk.

Nick: "My mommy taught me not to follow strangers with oversized swords."

Surprisingly, the swordsman’s smile widened at the words as he once again turned to the man.

????: "Oh? Fufu. I see. She must have been a clever woman."

Nick: "Indeed. She also taught me that I should introduce myself to people properly. So, yeah, Nicolai Farkas, mercenary."

???? "…"

Nick: "…"

Once again, they both fell silent while staring daggers at each other. However, the stalemate was quickly broken by the tall man’s quiet laughter.

????: "Fufu… Fine, fine. My name is Zara Dust, Walker and captain of the archbishop’s bodyguards. Pleased to make acquaintance."

Nick: "A Walker? Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve seen one of you guys! Sorry, I just didn’t recognize your uniform without all the blood and entrails all over it…"

Hearing his words, Zara’s unnerving smile widened even further.

Zara: "Oh, do I hear a trace hostility in your voice?"

Nick: "Nah, just your imagination."

Zara: "…"

Nick: "…"

Zara: "Very well. With the pleasantries done, please follow me. The archbishop wishes to speak with you as soon as possible."

Brushing off the tense atmosphere around him, the smiling man turned his back on the mercenary and started walking up the stairs towards the entrance. For a few moments Nicolai intently stared at his back with a surprisingly serious expression, then finally followed after him with heavy steps.

*creak*

The inside of the cathedral was just as busy as the outside. So to say, not at all. There seemed to be a few people lingering in the corners, minding their own business, but as a whole the place was as quiet as an especially depressing mausoleum. The next unexpected thing Nicolai encountered was quite a shock to him. The ground floor of the cathedral seemed like just another temple, with rows of benches, an altar and a pulpit, but as they went up a floor, the place suddenly turned into an office-building, with uniform white walls, long corridors and several small cubicles all around. Going through this section, they soon reached the third floor, which was once again contrasting the previous one with its garnished appearance, antique furniture and turkish-carpets. This floor was also very well-lit with lights that looked just like the antique lamp-stands from before the devastation.

Nick: "Huh? You guys are using electricity here? How bold!"

Zara: "…"

His guide let the comment fly by his ears and didn’t even bother answering. Soon, they reached the end of the long corridor they have been walking in, and stopped in front of an ornamented, thick wooden door.

*knock-knock*

Zara’s knocking was immediately answered by a strong, gruff voice.

?????: "Yes? Come in."

With that, they entered the room without further ado. It was an unexpectedly spacious chamber, decorated in the same manner as the rest of the floor. In the far end of the room stood a heavy mahogany desk, while the middle portion was dominated by a long, sturdy looking conference-table with about ten chairs around it. Finally, as the mercenary looked around, he finally found the source of the previous voice in a short, bearded man. He seemed old, judging by his white mane he was at least in his sixties. His high temple and thick glasses gave him an air of intellect, complemented by the light-blue lab-coat on his shoulders. Even though his guest was right in front of him, the old man kept on browsing through a handful of papers, seemingly disregarding the two men’s existence.

Zara: "Archbishop."

His guide greeted the old man with a small bow, at which the mercenary uncomprehendingly scratched his head.

Nick: "Archbishop? Really?"

Hearing his words, the old man closed the documents in his hand and looked over Nicolai with curious yet firm eyes.

Archbishop: "Yes. You seem surprised. Why?"

The man’s voice was incredibly deep and rasp, and his words carried little to no emotion beside the matter-of-fact logic behind them.

Nick: "Nothing much. It’s just that I expected the usual priest clothes and stuff."

Archbishop: "Understandable. Please take a seat."

Seemingly not even caring about his answer, the old man pointed at one of the chairs by the conference table, and even though his words wouldn’t have implied so, his gaze made it clear it was not a request. As such, even if a little begrudgingly, the mercenary sat down by the table while the smiling swordsman was seemingly frozen in place by the doorframe, never taking his eyes off Nicolai’s back. After a few seconds of meaningful silence, the old man finally spoke up.

Archbishop: "As you most certainly must know, I am Baran Dust, the archbishop of this region."

Nick: "Dust? Hmmm…"

The mercenary looked over the small old man, then turned around and looked over the tall man by the doorway as well.

Nick: "… No way in hell…"

Baran: "…"

The archbishop knit his brows, but continued on.

Baran: "Do you know why you were called here, Wolf?"

Nick: "Hm? Ah yes, the letter… You wrote something about lifting the ban of my services if I help you, right?"

Baran: "Indeed."

Finally, the old man’s face eased up as he opened up the file in his hands.

Baran: "Nicolai Farkas, also known as the Lone Wolf, the Last of the Pack, the Twin-fanged Whirlwind and the Butcher of the Pack."

Nick: "…"

Baran: "Birthplace and date of birth is unknown. First appeared in the records six years ago as the newly promoted vice-captain of the Pack, an influential private mercenary group. Two years later, the entirety of said mercenary group was destroyed during the celebrations after a successful raid on a rival encampment."

Nick: "……"

Baran: "According to the few survivors, more than five hundred people, almost the entire headcount of the mercenary band was killed in the span of a single night by a manner that they described as “wanton massacre”."

Nick: "………"

Baran: "Three months later, he reappeared as a solo mercenary. Widely known for his direct methods, nearly spotless success record and peculiar taste in choosing his clients. During his carrier, he was hired for numerous high-profile jobs, many of which were aimed against the Order or its affiliates."

Nick: "…………"

Baran: "As of now, he is wanted for ninety-six accounts of murder, two-hundred and six accounts of manslaughter, three accounts of treason against the Order, two accounts of conspiracy against the Order and thee hundred and seventy-one accounts of vandalism, totaling in a bounty that is theoretically greater than what the Order could actually pay in one sum."

Nick: "……………"

Baran: "As such, the Order was forced to anathematize him, meaning that people living under the law of the Order are forbidden from dealing with him. Also, to forego needless casualties and collateral damage, military and peacekeeping personnel are forbidden from engaging him unless a direct order is given from the highest authorities."

Finishing his monologue, the archbishop forcefully threw the file-case onto the table and fastened his eyes upon the mercenary with a harsh expression.

Baran: "Did I miss anything?"

Nick: "………………"

For a few moments Nicolai kept blinking in confusion, then scratched his chin in embarrassment.

Nick: "Err… Sorry, I couldn’t really concentrate on what you were saying; I was too preoccupied with figuring out just how the hell you two are related…"

Baran: "…"

Nick: "I don’t think he’s your son, so… maybe a grandson? Or grand-nephew, maybe?"

Baran: "… We are not related by any way, we just share the same surname."

Nick: "Ooooh… I see."

After nodding to himself, the mercenary laid back in his chair, not caring about the deprecating glares of the two men.

Nick: "Listen, I only came here because you promised to help me wash myself out of this silly ban the Order put on me, and the only reason I’m even bothering with that is because you guys arresting kids after I got their cats off a tree stopped being funny after the third time."

Baran: "I see. So you came here because of that reason, even though this could very well have been a trap."

Nick: "Nah, it’s not a trap."

Baran: "Are you sure?"

It was just a faint glimmer, but the mercenary could have sworn he saw an infinitely small gleam of mischief in the old archbishop’s eyes as he said that.

Nick: "Yup. I’m sure."

The manner of the answer, the absolute and utter confidence in the man’s voice seemed to take even the old man aback for a moment, but the only reaction he gave was barely more than a faint smile.

Baran: "Yes, you are right. But that’s no surprise for you, right?"

Nick: "Nope."

Suddenly, the mercenary’s eyes narrowed into a squint as he looked deep into the eyes of the archbishop.

Nick: "I feel no ill will from you. Actually, it’s just the opposite. It’s obvious that you need me for something, and you need me pretty desperately at that. So much in fact, that I have a feeling you would do literally anything to get me on your side…"

As he was speaking, he suddenly raised his hand and pointed at the motionless swordsman by the door with his thumb.

Nick: "… On the other hand, the skyscraper over there would most certainly like to cut me for some reason or another, but it’s pretty obvious that he is your lapdog and wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on me unless you gave him the word…"

Zara seemingly didn’t even flinch at these words, only the edges of his lips curved a bit further as Nicolai turned his full attention at the archbishop again.

Nick: "… So, I don’t know what kind of job you have for me, but I think it’s not something where I would go around swinging my sword. After all, you have quite enough people under your thumb to do that. That means you want to utilize my other talents, which I think makes me pretty much invaluable for you."

Finishing off his monologue, the mercenary scooped up the dossier in front of him, and then theatrically dropped it back onto the table with a smirk.

Nick: "Did I miss anything?"

Seeing the haughty expression on the man’s face, the archbishop’s lips curved even more, into a surprisingly satisfied smile.

Baran: "I see the reports were true. Your intuition is truly outstanding."

Nick: "Oh, you humble me."

Hearing those words of fake modesty, the archbishop finally broke out into a real, albeit somewhat foreboding smile.

Baran: "Good. That kind of confidence is actually something I can value in a man."

Nick: "I’m glad to hear that, but I would also like to hear some details about the job by now. I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible."

Baran: "Very well. Come."

Nick: "Huh? Where?"

Baran: "Just follow me. It will be easier to show you than to describe it."

By the time Nicolai stood up, the archbishop was already at the door, gesturing him to follow him. As such, they left the room and, to the mercenary’s surprise, stopped by a sliding door at the other end of the corridor. The old man pushed a button by the frame, and after a few moments of waiting, the door slid open, revealing a small cabin.

Nick: "Is that what I think it is?"

Baran: "It’s an elevator."

Nick: "Wow, these things are rare. Is this running on electricity too?"

Baran: "Yes."

Nick: "Wow… You guys have balls."

Seemingly disregarding his comments, the archbishop entered the elevator, followed by the two young men. The ride actually took a fair bit longer than the mercenary have expected.

Nick: "We are going deep…"

Baran: "…"

Nick: "No, wait… I guess it’s just that the elevator is really slow."

Just as he finished his sentence, the machine came to an abrupt halt. As the sliding door opened, he found himself staring down a long, well-lit concrete tunnel.

Nick: "…"

Baran: "Welcome to the Forge, the most classified and advanced weapons research-center in the entire world."

Nick: "Huh? Wait, just how classified are we talking about here?"

Baran: "The only people who know of the existence of this facility are the staff, the council of the archbishops and, from this point on, you."

Nick: "Really? Now, that’s a pretty big pile of trust you are giving me."

Seeing his reaction the archbishop slowly shook his head.

Baran: "It’s not really about trust. After all, it’s a foregone conclusion that you are going to work with us."

Nick: "Foregone conclusion, eh?"

Baran: "Indeed. You came here, and you wouldn’t have done so if you had any doubt about accepting our job."

Nick: "True, I guess."

Baran: "It is. After all, it is your innate ability to instinctively make the choices that will benefit you the most."

Nick: "… You are starting to lose me here, old man."

Baran: "I’m talking about your intuition."

Nick: "…?"

Baran: "This way. You will have to learn about its true nature later anyway, we should get your introduction over first."

Leaving him no time to think, the archbishop already started walking away from the mercenary. After getting out of the first daze, Nicolai immediately followed after him, while Zara was following behind him, never taking his eyes off his back.

Nick: "This is quite a well-made facility you have here…"

Striking up the conversation yet again, the mercenary moved beside the old man.

Baran: "It was originally an old emergency-shelter built before the Devastation. We only renovated the tunnels and repurposed the chambers."

Nick: "Wow. And just what kind of weapons-research are you doing underground?"

Baran: "We are experimenting with Alternates."

Hearing the word, the man froze on his tracks for a split-second.

Nick: "Wait, you mean, those are real?"

Baran: "Yes."

This was a small shock for the mercenary. After all, Alternates, human-shaped transforming weapons, were supposed be nothing more than modern fairy-tales. It was as if someone told him that the fairies that the Order was always preaching about were actually real…

Nick: "…"

Suddenly the mercenary turned around with a difficult expression and fastened his gaze upon the tall man following him .

Zara: "Yes?"

Nick: "Ah, nothing, don’t even mention me. I just had a hunch, but it’s nothing."

Zara: "…"

All of a sudden, the archbishop came to a halt. They were in front of an especially sturdy looking steel door. Without any further ado, the old man took out a key-card, a security-measure that was ridiculously high-tech in this day and age, and for good reason.

Nick: "I was meaning to ask before, but you guys are awfully unconcerned about the Corruption."

Baran: "You shouldn’t worry about such things. This shelter was built in a relative low-tech fashion and was completely detached from the electric system when It struck. With other words, this complex is completely safe of the resurgence of Corruption, as it has never reached it on the first place."

Nick: "That’s… awfully convenient."

Baran: "Indeed..."

While saying so, the old man somewhat absentmindedly inserted his card into the reader, and the door unlocked itself with a heavy mechanical sound. He recovered his key, then turned back to the mercenary with an almost condescending smile.

Baran: "… That’s why we turned this into a research-center on the first place."

Nick: "Logical."

Baran: "Isn’t it?"

Looking at the old man, Nicolai couldn’t help but feel that he was slowly changing his mannerism to match his reactions. Of course, it wasn’t that hard to see through his intentions. The archbishop needed him for something, so he was obviously trying his best to get on his good side. While he was thinking about this, the heavy door slowly opened, accompanied by the pained screams of its old hinges. Now open, Nicolai could finally see just how thick that door was. It could have easily served as the door of a safe or a vault. However, there was no strong-room on the other side. Actually, it was just about the opposite of virtually anything that he had expected.

??????: "Good day, sir."

?????: "Good day, sir."

A simple room. Actually, it was not entirely true, as the place had a sort of girlish feel to it. The walls were covered in pastel-colored tapestry. Two simple beds. A bookcase holding several dozen old books and a few scattered plush toys every here and there. However, these features only barely registered in the mercenary’s mind, as his entire attention was focused on the most baffling sight in front of him.

Baran: "Let me introduce you to AWP-DBT/V1 and AWP-DBT/V2."

AWP-DBT/V1: "…"

AWP-DBT/V2: "…"

The mercenary and the two, completely identical girls kept staring at each other in awkward silence, but it was undoubtedly Nicolai that was the more baffled. They seemed normal, teenage girls, except for three small details: their almost angelic figure, their long, dark green hair, and most importantly, the feeling he got the moment he laid his eyes upon them. It was something he couldn’t describe; a gut reaction that told him that whatever he was looking at, it was not a normal human. It was hard to squeeze any words through his bewildered throat, but in the end it was him who broke out of the sea of awkwardness they were steadily sinking into.

Nick: "Um… Hi?"

All he got for an answer was a slight nod from the two, if one can even call that an answer, while their eyes bore holes into his face. Disregarding their stares, he turned to the old man at his side.

Nick: "They are Alternates."

It wasn’t a question. In fact, his words seemed about as obvious as if he just told the old man that they are girls… and yet, hearing it brought back the previous, fleeting smile onto the archbishop’s face.

Baran: "Yes they are. Good observation."

Nick: "… So?"

Baran: "They are the reason why we require your talents."

Nick: "Thought so, but that still says nothing. Am I supposed to guard them or what?"

Hearing his words, the archbishop slowly shook his head once again and pointed at the girls with his index-finger.

Baran: "You are going to become their master."

Nick: "………………….. Excuse me?"

Seeing his confounded reaction, the archbishop spoke up again, with the tone of an elderly teacher lecturing his student.

Baran: "They are Alternates. Shape-shifting sentient weapons that can refine and channel astounding amounts of mana. However, these two have a serious flaw regarding their control of their mana-flow that’s preventing anyone from wielding them efficiently, a flaw that we believe we can overcome by utilizing your innate ability by means of using it to control the output of-."

Nick: "Halt! Listen, I can see your mouth moving, but I didn’t understand a word that came out of it! Mana? Innate ability? What?"

Baran: "Those are going to be explained to you during orientation."

Nick: "*sigh* Then can you at least give me a short, down to earth explanation of what you want me to do?"

Baran: "In short, we are going to use your intuition to make their mana-flow stable enough to achieve a high-level synchronization and thus-"

Suddenly, the mercenary raised his hands, cutting off the old man, and let out a huge sigh.

Nick: "… I think we will get along better if I don’t ask for explanations and just go with the flow, right?"

Baran: "Probably."

While saying that, the archbishop suddenly turned around.

Baran: "We are going to leave now. Please get acquainted while we get you a security permit and deal with the related paperwork."

Nick: "Wait, you mean…?"

By the time the mercenary could react, Baran and his bodyguard were already on the other side of the entrance.

Baran: "In the afternoon, we are going to have a quick compatibility-assessment and a few tests. Until then, they are under your supervision. Goodbye."

And just then, like it was planned from the very beginning, the door automatically closed behind them, leaving Nicolai locked inside the room with the two visibly distressed girls.

Nick: "Hey…!"

After looking over the closed door, he had to realize that it had no way to be opened from the inside.

Nick: "Supervision my ass, you just wanted to lock me up to be sure I won’t bail out…!"

He lightly kicked the doorframe while murmuring a silent curse under his breath, and turned to the girls. They were obviously anxious, locked into a room with a stranger without any way to escape, and as he looked over them, the mercenary instantly buried his face into his palm.

Nick: "Just what the hell was that old coot thinking…?"

Seeing the girls’ increasingly confused expression, he finally decided to stop beating around the bush and turned to them with a carefree expression.

Nick: "I know this is all kind of awkward, so let’s start from the very beginning, okay? My name is Nicolai Farkas, but you can call me Nick."

For a few moments the two didn’t know what to say, but in the end the girl of the left spoke up.

AWP-DBT/V1: "Pleased to meet you. I’m AWP-DBT/V1."

Following suit, the other girl introduced herself as well.

AWP-DBT/V2: "Pleased to meet you, my name is AWP-DBT/V2."

Nick: "… Are those really your names?"

AWP-DBT/V2: "Yes."

Nick: "Seriously? Those are just codes. Don’t you have normal names?"

AWP-DBT/V1: "But… these are our names."

Nick: "…"

Hearing her answer, the mercenary fell silent with a serious expression on his face. A few seconds passed by, with the tension in the room gradually rising as his eyes were jumping between the two girls. At last, just as they were about to finally speak up on their own, Nicolai suddenly pointed at them with his index finger, at which they shuddered like someone was pointing a gun at them.

Nick: "Veevan and Veetu."

The two girls kept blinking uncomprehendingly at the man, who let out a small sigh in response.

Nick: "These are your new names. I’m not going to call you something that complicated, so it will do."

Veevan: "…"

Veetu: "…"

The twins looked at each other, then at the man, with a sense of resignation in their eyes.

Nick: "Now then, let’s move on with the introductions. You are twins, right?"

Veevan: "Y-Yes."

This much was about as obvious as it could get. The two were like exact copies of each other, down to their simple clothes. However, Nicolai quickly found a minor difference between the two: Veetu had a small hairpin in her long hair, although it apparently didn’t hold up her hair at all. After making a mental-note of that, he drew a huge breath and collected his thoughts.

Nick: "*sigh* It’s obvious we have started off on the wrong foot here. Damn that old man, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind once we get out of here…"

Veetu: "Excuse me?"

Nick: "Hm? Yes?"

For the first time, one of the girls spoke up on her own, immediately grabbing the mercenary’s attention.

Veetu: "You are not a technician, are you?"

Hearing the question, the Nicolai slightly tilted his head.

Nick: "No, I’m a mercenary."

Veevan: "Mercenary? What… is that?"

Nick: "Huh? You don’t know?"

Seeing that both of them shook their head, Nicolai drew a huge breath.

Nick: "Let’s see… Practically, people hire me and I help them deal with their problems. That usually means I’m fighting a lot, but I occasionally do peaceful jobs as well, like guarding someone or something and such."

Veetu: "You fight? Against who?"

Nick: "Errr… I mostly fight the enemies of my clients, but again, it depends on the job. Sometimes I’m hired as a bodyguard or a-"

Veetu: "Wait, you said “actual client”? You mean have more than one?"

Nick: "Well, of course. I travel around a lot, and either take the jobs I find on the road, or the people who need my services come looking for me."

Veevan: "Y-You travel a lot? Really?"

Nick: "Errr… Yes, I do."

Veevan: "… Wow."

As the conversation went on, the girls seemingly started to ease up to him, slowly dissipating the initially tense atmosphere in the room.

Veetu: "So, are you going to become our partner?"

Nick: "Huh? Partner? I don’t know yet. The old geezer really acts like I already am, but I actually don’t even really know what that means. Honestly, I didn’t even know that Alternates were real until I was face to face with you guys…"

Veetu: "But His Excellency said you have some sort of talent, right?"

Nick: "That’s… an unrelated issue. I think? Seriously, I don’t even know what it has to do with becoming your master or partner or whatever…"

Hearing his words the twins suddenly looked really disappointed, almost sad.

Nick: "Whoa, whoa! What’s with the long faces?"

Veevan: "It’s… nothing."

Veetu: "Yes, it’s just… nothing."

Nick: "Just nothing? Are you sure?"

The two kept sending glances at each other, as if they were silently debating whether they should say it or not, but in the end they apparently decided to do so.

Veetu: "… We just thought that they finally found a partner for us and we could go outside."

Nick: "Go outside…?"

Nicolai’s eyes suddenly narrowed after hearing the answer. Looking at the snow-white skin of the two, a sudden dark premonition reared its ugly head in his mind.

Nick: "Just for the record, when was the last time you left this place?"

Veevan: "We… leave it every day when we do the tests…"

Nick: "No, no, no! I didn’t mean your room! Did you ever leave this complex?"

For a moment the two looked at each other like they were asked something obvious, and answered with the obliviousness of a child.

Veetu: "No, of course we didn’t. This is our home."

Veevan: "Um, yes. We grew up here."

Nick: "Wait! You grew up here…? Underground?"

Veetu: "*nod* We were born here."

Nick: "…?"

The word struck the mercenary like a bullet to the forehead. These two were born underground? Does that mean that they lived their whole lives down there? The idea seemed absurd, but considering the situation, it was far from impossible.

Nick: "Okay, I know I’m pretty much repeating everything you say, but… you were born here? In this facility?"

Veevan & Veetu: "*nod*"

Nick: "Just how old are you two, anyway?"

Once again, the two looked like they were asked something really obvious.

Veevan: "We were born… two years ago."

Nick: "……….. What?"

The completely flat “what” leaving his lips seemed to amuse the two, as a faint smile appeared on their faces.

Veetu: "Why are you looking at us like that? We are Alternates, so we were created and raised in this compound. Is it really that strange?"

Nick: "Strange? No, bizarre would have been the better word."

Veevan: "…"

Nick: "Oh, don’t take it wrong. I’m not saying you are weird or anything, just that the old coot and his men are lunatics."

Veetu: "Hey! Don’t badmouth them!"

Veevan: "Yes, they were the ones who raised us…"

Looking at the two, the mercenary couldn’t help but feel the claws of pity digging deep into his heart. These two were created by some creepy weapons research group who never let them out to the surface, and they are still protecting them… They were prisoners, and they probably didn’t even realize it…

Nick: "Okay, okay. So, to make things clear; you have never been to the surface, right?"

Veevan: "*shake-shake* No."

Nick: "Do you even know what’s up there?"

Veetu: "Of course we know! We might live here, but we still have a lot of books about the world."

Veevan: "And… the technicians sometimes tell us about what’s happening too."

Nick: "I see… Did you ever want to go up there?"

Veevan: "Of course."

Veetu: "Yes, but we can only go up if we have a partner."

Nick: "Did the old man say that?"

Veetu: "Yes, he said it would be dangerous for everyone otherwise."

Nick: "But you really want to go out there, right?"

After a few short moments of silence, the twins nodded in unison as the mercenary looked over them one more time. He was looking for some kind of clue, but these two girls acted and talked like normal, albeit slightly unusual humans. If the old man didn’t plant the whole Alternate idea into his head, he would have never believed that they were something else. And just then, a sudden realization dawned on his mind.

Nick: "(I see… So that’s why you locked me up with these two like this! You wanted to make sure I would feel sorry for them, huh? All right old man, I can play this game…!)"

As he thought so, a wide, defiant smile bloomed onto the mercenary’s face as he looked at the twins with confident eyes.

Nick: "Say, girls?"

Veevan & Veetu: "…?"

Seeing the confused expression on their faces made his smile even wider as he almost nonchalantly continued.

Nick: "You really want to see the world, right?"

After a moment of confusion they both nodded.

Veetu: "Yes, we just said that…"

Nick: "Fufu… Good. Then, what if I said I know a mercenary who would help you get out of here?"

Veevan: "You mean…?"

Faced with the mercenary’s confident smile, they finally realized just what he was trying to say.

Veevan: "In that case…?"

Veetu: "Can we… hire you?"

Their slightly insecure question was immediately answered by a powerful crackle.

Nick: "Hahaha! I though you would never ask!"

Veevan & Veetu: "…?"

All of a sudden, Nicolai took a big step towards the two girls, and before they could even shudder in face of the unexpected act, his surprisingly large palms were already on their frail shoulders. Holding onto them firmly yet ever so gently, he leaned closer to them, with an expression beaming with self-confidence.

Nick: "Congratulations girls! You just got yourself a partner!"

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