Chương 3: Chapter 3 – The Nightmare’s Return
Illya sat alone in her very spacious office.
It was the type of room where two of the walls were essentially large windows letting in generous amounts of light and giving a nice view of the surrounding city. One of the non-windowed walls held four sixty-inch TVs, which were all connected to a central othernet terminal. At the center of the room was a large U-shaped table that could accommodate a large group if necessary. Each space had a spot for a power outlet and an invisible matrix that could let authorized individuals connect their devices to the othernet. On the sides, bean bag chairs were scattered along the windows, allowing the inhabitants a variety of sitting options.
Overall, it was a modern layout mostly taken from modern designs on Earth. Contrary to her older relatives, she much preferred the new to the old. From her perspective, there was little point in lighting candles, magical or not, if electric lighting served the same purpose with less maintenance. Then again, not everyone had the funding to have special construction like this stood up. It was far more expensive to furnish a building like this.
Illya leaned back in her chair and sighed.
"Why now… after all this time…?" She quietly wondered as she gazed through the large windows at the city moon above.
It was green tonight, not that she was focusing enough to see its true color. To her, it was just a pearl in the sky, illuminating the night with its bright white light.
Umbra was like that. Being a realm separate from Earth, it had an entirely different structure. It was a world of illusions, one born of fantasy. The laws of reality weren't fixed structures, but instead twisted to suit its inhabitants.
Seven moons existed. Each was a different color; each affected people in different ways. Unlike on Earth, within a 24-hour period, one of the seven moons went through its entire lunar cycle. Day here was the fuller phases of the moon. Night was the absence of it in which time, the next moon would take its place in the cycle for the next day with its color being the next color of the rainbow. One moon a day over seven days and repeat.
To the naked eye, all moons looked the same. If you looked at them, they'd all be the same color, roughly white or yellow depending on the time of day. The true color only became visible when one focused one's mind in a very specific way, and even then, it was only a faint shimmer overlapping the visible spectrum of light they saw naturally.
Each moon affected different spectrums of magic differently. As such, many things were planned around the lunar schedule. For example, attacking a den of druids on their strongest day would be unwise, especially if the attacker uses magic that were weakened on that corresponding day.
As it was green, it was Thursday, the worst day of the week for her both magically and emotionally. Magic aside, it felt like Friday. She felt the buzzing anticipation of the weekend, the time she allowed herself to release her burdens for a time when not on an active case. Yet, it was not Friday. That day is an entire day away, and as always, something came up that'd taken the sails out of her blooming anticipation.
That man is still alive… They were sure they killed him, that the nightmare had ended. They were certain their tormentor had fallen by his own hubris. Yet, he was alive… and based on that horny boy's memories, he's still out there, toying with the lives of others with utter disregard to any ethical standard.
He was a monster in human flesh, the first to hold titles in both Astra and Umbra, an unprecedented achievement that spoke to his infamy.
Her musing continued, not even noticing the door opening.
"Hey Illya, you're thinking too loud!" A loud, cheerful voice exclaimed, breaking her out of her musing.
Rubbing her tired eyes, she swiveled around to face the newcomers.
A familiar girl had opened the door for Michael who approached with a large serving plate holding three smaller plates, each with a 6-inch sandwich. Behind them, an older gentleman with a well-groomed mustache followed silently.
"Really Mike? Why don't you just let me port it over here. People may be too big for me, but plates certainly aren't." The previously cheerful voice berated.
"I'm fine." Michael said with an unflinching calm smile. "It's the little things that let people know they care, one of the very few things I remember my mom telling me in my younger years. A little extra effort can sometimes send its own message."
The other one, who was now rolling her eyes at what she clearly perceived as nonsense, was a young fair-skinned young lady barely entering adulthood. She was the youngest of them, being a year their junior. She had sakura-colored hair tied into a short ponytail and ruby-colored eyes. She liked to dress casually, being dressed in a short-sleeved dark red shirt, dark blue jean short shorts, and black tennis shoes with pink accents. It wouldn't be what she'd wear in an official capacity, but while in their mansion, all bets were off. Even in combat, where jewelry allowed one to somewhat automate an engraved spell, she still abstained.
"Yeah. Yeah. Mike, you do you. Don't say I didn't offer though." She dismissed as she playfully threw herself onto a nearby beanbag chair.
"Ah~ What a great office! Glad I decided to stick with you all these years Illya!"
Seeing this, an amused smile rose to Illya's face. Combined with the sandwich Michael was now setting in front of her, the previous storm that clouded her mind faded like the wind.
"I'm… surprised to see you two together. I don't remember you fancying the kitchen Shula. Usually, you just ask one of the staff to bring things to you." Illya idly asked.
"Meh." She dismissively replied as she clumsily reoriented herself to face the blond girl. She pointed at Michael. "He had this sour look on his face. Decided to tag along and lighten the mood. And-" She pointed to the gentleman walking out of the room with the serving plate. "-Robert did come! Old man's dutiful as always!"
"Did he tell you why? Michael, I mean." Illya pensively asked.
"Hell no!" She exclaimed with a carefree smile, her hands resting on her cheeks. "Didn't care to ask!"
"She really didn't." Michael affirmed. "She was telling me about Mr. Testia's failings at teaching her how to dance."
"Hmph" Shula playfully pouted.
Illya stifled a laugh, riling her up in mock indignation.
"I keep telling him I can get everything I need from DicPop, but noooo…. He just couldn't stop focusing on more 'refined' dances." She jokingly complained, making sure to add mocking emphasis toward the end there. "He's just way too stuffy."
"Sure, but you're going to have to learn to dance at some point, right? I mean, you can't stay cooped up in your room when we get called to those mandatory parties. That's part of our deal with the queen." Michael gently chided, prompting the girl to make a funny face with a lower eyelid pulled down and tongue out.
"Hmph." Illya snorted. "I don't understand what you see in those stupid dances. They're degrading."
"But they're sooo~ fun." Shula happily argued.
"And they make us look like harlots. I mean, why in Pandora's name would I lower myself to shake my rear for anyone other than my eventual husband, and even then…." Illya found herself red hot with both embarrassment and fury.
"Pretty sure the point is to make it easier to find a husband Illya." Shula explained, her face deadpanned. "I'm sure 'you know who'd' appreciate seeing you twerk." Her face took on a knowing look as she ignored the scathing look Illya was shooting her.
Before either could continue this particular line of thought, Michael audibly cleared his throat, grabbing their attention. He made sure to ignore the glare Shula shot his way, and inwardly nodded at Illya's subtle nod of appreciation for the save.
"As nice as this discussion is, why don't you come over to the table so we can begin. This meeting does have some points to discuss, part of which is the reason why both Illya and I have been a little distracted." He said, looking at Shula.
"Cool with me." Her tone took on a lighthearted, but level tone as she jumped up from the bean bag chair and walked over her seat on Illya's left side, while Michael sat down to Illya's right.
The moment she sat down, she grabbed the sandwich in front of her and immediately started eating, disregarding all manners when doing so. Illya twitched at her lack of manners, but kept silent, while Michael was unphased. They knew what kind of a person she was by this point; this wasn't a new thing and they had more pressing matters to discuss.
Once all were seated, Michael placed his hand on the table, cycling golden aether into it. With that, the four TVs turned on. A small compartment opened on the table space in front of him, revealing the top of a thin metal device. He took it out, revealing a tablet device.
"OK Shula, why don't I catch you up to speed? You know; since you skipped out on our mission brief last night." Michael suggested.
"Yeah. Yeah. I got it. Just get on with it." She flippantly demanded.
Michael nodded, glad she was in a good mood. He'd doubt that'd hold after he got started, but it was good to start from a good place, even if her attitude wasn't professional by any metric.
"You remember how we got that tip off about a group of stray ghouls gaggling in Countess Drusilla's territory? You know, the one I spent all that time getting clearance to investigate?"
"Sure? You were up all night doing that. Didn't really understand why. What, you found something on the job?"
His eyes hardened as his elbows lay on the desk, allowing his chin to rest on his folded hands.
"Unfortunately." He grumbled. He took a steady breath, preparing himself for the coming explanation. "I'll start from the beginning to catch you up. It may have seemed like some random tip, but we actually received it directly from Her Majesty."
Shula's eyes narrowed in suspicion, her earlier carelessness vanishing like the wind. "Since when did she get involved in small stuff?"
"She doesn't; it's beneath her." Illya answered from her side. "Unless it's a threat to Palahaem, she doesn't involve herself in trifling matters like these. In most cases, we don't either. We'd have simply delegated it to a lower department. As fun as it is, our little team was not formed to deal with ghoul trash."
"Something I don't agree with…" Michael muttered; he was ignored.
"We didn't know why she had her eye on this either until we got there. There, we found…" Illya recounted their brief hunt and findings. "… and now the pervert in question is at the hospital in an artificially induced coma. Those treacherous vermin sure did a number on him."
The three sat in silence. Illya and Michael let Shula process the information, giving her the time to properly process everything.
By this point, all three sat with empty plates, each having taken time during the explanation to eat their sandwiches. Michael looked distractedly at the data displayed on the TVs, lost in thought at the threat profiles displayed. Shula, on the other hand, rested her head on pleated hands, supported by her elbows; her eyes bored holes into the walls, seemingly as if to burn a hole through them.
In the silence, Illya, with crossed arms, turned to Michael and gave a silent nod of appreciation for the food, to which he returned.
Shula opened her mouth for a second, but closed it a second later, still trying to find her words. Eventually though, she settled on something.
"Let me guess. The only lead we have is the link these fuckers have with him… That about right?" She quietly asked, looking down. Her gaze shifted upward, meeting Illya's. "Otherwise, you two wouldn't be here sitting on your hands."
"Regrettably…, that is the situation." Illya replied in a slow growl,
"It's not all bad." Michael encouraged, drawing glares from both. "I mean, think of how poor the confrontation would go for us if we could do so right now. I don't think we're in the state of mind to do so in a way that would lead to success."
Shula just continued staring blankly at the table.
"You scared, Mike?" Illya challenged.
"Honestly, yes." He shamelessly admitted.
Illya's eyes hardened at that. "And why's that? We already beat him once, what's one more time? Our powers have grown since then."
"…" Michael's eyes drifted down to his hands which were locked together on the table. He was silent for a moment, taking time to ponder his memories. "Did we though? Did we really?"
"We did." Illya strongly affirmed. "I personally ripped his heart from his chest."
Michael hesitated for a second, before rebutting, "You assassinated him at his weakest… don't you remember just how terrifying his power was when he slew your predecessor. I mean… the cartographers had to redraw the landscape after their battle. We got him at his weakest and even that almost failed miserably."
His face troubled, his concerned eyes looked unflinchingly into Illya's. "Even though your strength can't compare to the late Jupiter, the sheer fact that you managed that assassination in that state was enough to earn you the title, regardless of the fact that you should've only been a candidate… It didn't matter before, considering we believed he was dead, but if he's not…"
Illya opened her mouth to argue, to shout down his words reeking of weakness, but couldn't muster the strength. Loathe as she was to admit it, he was right. That had been something that'd lingered on their minds for months after the fact.
She trained relentlessly for months, trying fruitlessly to bridge the gap. It'd taken a personal intervention by her majesty to slow her back to a manageable pace. It'd taken even longer for her to finally sleep soundly at night, free of futile ponderings. That he was now apparently alive was not pleasant. She'd already doubled her projected training schedule. If she didn't have other responsibilities as Jupiter, she'd have increased even further.
"I stand by my original point." Illya finally muttered, this time grabbing Shula's attention too. "Despite our certain disadvantage, shying away from this foe will do us no good. As a compromise though… we will go about our business as normal and deal with him when the opportunity presents itself. Just make sure you two spend time honing your skills, especially you Shula."
Shula absentmindedly nodded, lacking her earlier enthusiasm. Both Michael and Illya looked at her with concern. Memories of the roughest period in their short lives flashed through their minds the moment their eyes met her hollow orbs.
Not wanting to let her dwell in the muck of fear and stagnation, Michael came up with an idea. "Why don't the three of us go for a walk? I doubt any of us are in the state of mind to get any work done the way we are."
"Yes… the room has gotten rather stuffy, hasn't it? A breath of fresh air will most certainly help." Illya agreed, keeping Shula's quiet self in the corner of her eye.
Shula just nodded her head, not bothering to verbally respond.
Illya just sighed and turned her attention to Michael. "Let's get changed and meet up downstairs."
He furrowed his brow. "Can't we just wear what we have on? I don't think-"
"No." She firmly cut him off. "You wanted this walk to be relaxing, yes?"
"Yesss….?"
"Good, then change. We're not on business and you know how I feel about wearing the same thing off work. If you want to relax, dress to do so."
His posture slumped as his face morphed into a relaxed 'what can you do' expression. "As you wish."
He stood up, collecting the now-empty plates and left for the kitchen, while Illya and Shula went upstairs to prepare. The moment he left the room though, Robert was there with a knowing gaze and a serving tray in hand.
"Heh~" He chuckled self-depreciatingly, setting the plates on the outstretched tray without resistance.
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