A week has gone by since the Council Summit concluded. “Expect the worst, hope for the best.” was the message left to the world from them. Truthfully, no one expected much more from them. Everyone knows the deal. The world remains confused. The world remains scared.
News of an untimely death of Councilman Rozen had spread, but it was barely kept in conversation for long. People were dropping like flies everywhere anyway, so one measly Councilman won’t make much difference. The body was never found, and the details of the event were sketchy at best. There was no time, and no resources to investigate the happenings.
There is one place that doesn’t seem to be caught up in all the drama of the world: a bar in a south central region of a Gnis Rupa’a island. Business is usual here. It’s during the day, so there isn’t too much noise. The same regulars are there, sitting in the same spots. There is, however, one newcomer. A tan skinned human man, with a great deal of long, dark red hair that lay on the ground. He sits at the bar, drinking water. Save for the glass of water he occasionally raises to his lips, he barely moves. He barely even looks like he’s breathing. The news goes on and on about the state of the world. The real reason they keep that on is in the hope that they divulge a date for the battle.
No one knew exactly who this man was behind the bar, but one thing was for sure. He attracted attention…the wrong attention. When the drink is rested on the bar, he taps the cup out of habit with his middle finger. The tall bartender notices the bruises on his knuckles. The bartender then looks behind the man to the main door, still wide open. Two cleaners that work at the bar have just arrived to clean up the two unconscious bodies on the ground that held the doors open. The bartender pieces together that the newcomer has to be an Alystair. Alystairs are fighters that usually are found in the many tournaments that Earth is famous for. The two men lying on the floor were freelance Alystairs around these parts, known for trying to showcase their “skills”, usually in a destructive manner. Even though those two weren’t top of the line, they weren’t bottom feeders, either. They were halfway decent at what they did, which makes it hard to believe they were done in the way they were. This tan man took them both down in less than a minute by himself. He barely even looked at them as he did it, also. He gave each of them 3 blows, and they dropped at his feet.
As the cleaners pry the bodies from the walkway, everyone can see the damage on their faces. They were deformed, and their bodies crippled from the blows they took from the tan man. This man had to be some kind of Alystair. Such caliber is only cut from a certain cloth to do that without as much as batting an eye. The only other time something like this was seen is the Thane Alystair himself, Maxwell Spiegel. Maybe there was a connection.
Just as the bodies were being pulled away, a local freelance reporter had made his way in. He was a young boy, very energetic, and a regular of this particular bar. He finagles his way through the cleaners, and heads right to the bar, sitting next to the tan man. He strikes up a conversation with the bartender, who is leisurely cleaning a cup.
“Yo, Stacy! What’s up?”
“Hey Sil, see anything new?”
“Nothing much. What happened here?”
“Ah, just another day in the life. The Buster Boys took a dive.”
“Really? Them? How’d that go down?”
The bartender points the cup at the tan man sitting next to Sil. “Doesn’t talk much, though.”
“Wow. By himself?” ::turns toward the tan man:: “You gotta be some heck of an Alystair, huh?”
The tan man doesn’t pay Sil a bit of attention, and continues to drink his water.
“Oh, well. Hey, did you hear about Rozen?”
“Sure did. You got anything on that?”
“All I have heard is that he was around Councilman Meilteif last. Some thinks he did him in.”
Suddenly, the tan man was hit with a mild headache. The name “Meilteif” is what caused it. He is bombarded with a scene of a room, filled with many people looking at him. Then, another scene of a man in shadow, with someone calling him “Meilteif”. The last image he sees is a crater, filled with the charred corpses of the same men he just saw. Residual flames were seen throughout the crater. Not regular fire, but a strange purple fire. The tan man stood at the epicenter of the crater. He looks at his hands, and he realized it was him that did it. His hands were bloody, with purple steam seeping out.
The tan man finally came to, and his headache stopped. He looked up to see both the bartender and the boy staring at him. Taking a final swig of the glass of water, he finishes it and briskly walks out of the bar. Both the bartender and the boy watch him walk out, then look at each other in confusion.
Outside the bar, the tan man walks down the street. Trying to shake the images from his mind, he runs his hand over his face, and through his hair. His pacing is solid as he puts his hand back in his pocket. Though the street next to him is empty, the sounds of police honking cars, and heavy traffic could be heard all around him in the distant blocks.
Gnis Rupa’a was a country unlike most. It habitually practiced patience, and acceptance. Because of this, the extreme pandemonium that cloaked the rest of the planet didn’t quite reach here. People were much calmer, and much quieter about the supposed “end of the world”. The only other places in the world that could be so calm about this are Japan, and a few high-end districts in Lorelei IV.
Just as the tan man had gained his normal uninterested composure, his path is blocked by yet another example of the “attention” he attracts. Though the tan man walks with his head down, he can see the shadow on the ground of someone in his way. The tan man stops, looks up, and stares his opposition down.
Whoever it is, they aren’t very tall. They are hooded, as to cloak their face. The tan man looks the figure up and down, and notices a cat-like tail hanging from the back of their waist. The tan man keeps staring for a few moments before squinting his eyes, and resuming his walk, and paced around the figure.
The figure turns to follow the man, and questions him. “Did you beat up those kids?” it asks. The man says nothing, and continues his walking. The figure then leaps to the side of a near building, and leaps again to in front of the tan man, cutting off his path again. “I asked you a question.” The figure says again. The tan man exhales a long breath, and turns the other way to walk. The figure watches the man walk for a few paces before acting again. “Ok.” The figure mumbles, and kicks the bottom of the nearby street light pole. As the 20 ft pole falls down, the figure catches is, rips it from the base, and slams it down where the man walks. Debris flew everywhere, and the crash was very loud.
The figure looked up to see the end result. Surprisingly enough, the man stood unscathed with his head still down, and his hands still in his pocket. The figure made a cat-like growl in anger, and started picking the pole back up. The man noticed, and smashed his foot down in the pole to keep it in place. The figure realizes what the man did, and improvised by stepping on the pole a few feet up, bending it, and eventually tearing it off, making a versatile rod to beat the man with, which is exactly what they do. “Stupid Alystairs.” the figure says as they jump to the man and swings the rod wildly at him. The man dodges the bar effortlessly, and begins to show signs of irritation. The figure begins to show signs of frustration, as they grunt more and more trying to hit the man.
Finally, the man had enough. He narrowed his eyes on the rod as the figure cocked it back. Bracing himself for the big swing to come, the man tensed his right arm. When the swing came, the man threw his right backhand into the center of the rod, causing it to instantly bend over his hand into a very acute “V” shape. The figure watches the bar fold over the man’s hand. The man then smartly brings his hand behind him, toward the ground, prying the rod free from the figure’s grasp and sending it to the ground. The figure watches as the crooked piece of metal bounces away from them, then back at the man who is putting his hand back in his pocket. He hasn’t taken is eye off the figure in the hood, and his pupils show his seriousness. He figure says nothing to him, and he walks past them on their right side, on his original pathway from the bar he walked out of. “Think this is a game do you? You don’t think I know what you’re after? Well, I’m not going back! Not now, not EVER!!” the figure exclaimed, and raised their left hand. The man turns around to see a hug sleeve uncover a fist that quickly opened to a tensed claw, with razor-sharp looking nails. The figure thrusts the hand to the man’s face. The man dodges, and catches and halts the arm with his left hand.
However, catching that arm didn’t change the sleeve itself much, and the movement of it caused a whiff of air to brush up against the man’s face. The man then smelled the air. It was…different. It was strong. Almost toxic. It made him close his eyes from the shock for a moment. It took him off guard, and made him vulnerable. He shook his head to try and gain his composure. “Hmmm.” The figure noticed this, and tried to yank their hand back from the man’s grasp, but no avail. The man had a strong grip and would not let go.
The man soon used his right hand to grab the figure’s wrist and his left hand to slide the sleeve back and expose the figure’s arm. There was…fur, black and brown, and…striped? The man looks confused for a moment, and then the scent hit him even more. It was heavier on his lungs this time. It was thick, and almost noxious. It forced him to clear his throat. The figure was not exactly sure what is going on, but it took advantage of the situation by kicking the man in the side of the knee, crippling his stand. The man was taken off guard (again), and grunted a bit in pain. The figure followed the kick by throwing her arm toward on the sidewalk, grounding the man. The man hit the ground with the figure’s hand around his neck. The figure gets in close to the man, until their faces are inches apart. “A new breed of Alystair, huh? Not impressed.” they say. The man lay with one hand on the figure’s arm trying to free his neck, and the other hand reaching for the figure’s neck. The figure pulls their head back in enough time to evade being choked, but not to avoid the man grabbing the hood, and pulling it, revealing the figure’s face.
It was a woman. A young woman. But not normal. She was…half…cat. She had large ears and whiskers on her cheeks. Her eyes were golden, and her canine teeth shone through her closed mouth. The man was surprised by the sight, to say the least. “You IDIOT!!” she screams, and quickly covers her head with the hood. She stands up and quickly turns away from him. The man stands as well. He swallows a large gulp, and gently rubs his neck with his hand. “You’ll pay for that.” she says, and swiftly turns around with her clawed hand to the man’s face again. The man is prepared this time, and evades the thrusting hand, letting her body’s velocity take over as she moves forward. The man suddenly grabs the extended hand and spins her around, and shoves her up against a wall of a nearby building. The slam made her hood fall again. The man’s face narrowed in on hers until they were inches apart, and he inspected her features. For a moment, the woman seemed petrified by the movement…even helpless. That is until the man started being affected by that scent again. He put his head down for just a moment to shake his head clear. That was all the time she needed.
“Sorry, but I don’t do humans.” she said. She raised both feet, and kicked the man in the chest. The man landed in the street on his side. He looked up at the woman putting her hood on again. “Another time.” she makes out before scurrying away from the area in laughter. The man slowly gets up, and looks down at his chest to see paw prints on his clothes. After taking a moment to brush the dirt off, he places his hands back in his pockets, and walks again. After making it a few feet, he stops, and pulls his right hand out his pocket. He pulls up the collar of his jacket to his nose, and smells it. He again shakes off the scent and looks back one more time for a moment, then resumes his walking.
From the top of a building not too far from that street, the woman sits in a cat-like crouch. He looks at the man walk from the scene for a few moments. She pulls her left sleeve back until her wrist is exposed. Like a cat bathing itself, she licks the area where he grabbed her, and saw her arm. After a gentle purr, she turns away, and exits the area.
Elsewhere, in Lal’Come, there is a building that stands nearly a hundred stories tall. It is the headquarters of the very well known company: The SouSou Foundation. The SouSou Foundation is an energy company, with many nuclear plants around the world. It is the foremost leader and manufacturer of nuclear power for the planet Earth, as well as having many branches throughout the space colonies. Once upon a time, it suffered from a potential failure and inevitable bankruptcy, until it was revived by a young nuclear physicist/philanthropist. At the time, the young physicist was also an aspiring Alystair, and his popularity only helped boost the marketing of the company. Eventually, he rose to not only be the CEO of the company (taking after the late Dhamphir Souta), but became the household name he is today as the 74th Thane Alystair, Maxwell Spiegel. Awarded after the defeat (and subsequent death) of Thymilf the Black. Because of his position as CEO, and being Thane Alystair, Maxwell Spiegel may very well be the richest man on the planet.
Maxwell Spiegel is in the top floor of the building, overlooking its vast, vast view. He has a cigar in his mouth, and is wearing his signature red suit. There is a glass full of a red liquid with a few ice cubes in his right hand. After a slow pull, he takes the cigar out of his mouth and exhales a slow, large mist of smoke. A door opens behind him, and his secretary, Stephanie Meilteif (in relation to Councilman Meilteif) walks in with some files. She places them on his desk. Maxwell teeters back and forth on the tips and heels of his feet while looking out the window.
“Smoking and drinking again, Mr. Spiegel? Bad for your health.”
“What isn’t bad for my health?”
“Not smoking and drinking, maybe?”
“Can always count on that wit, can’t I?”
“Sure can. Ummm, you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Since when do you hesitate to say anything to me?”
“What do you plan on doing about everything?”
“You mean the world ending? Not much. I can’t leave, so I guess I will just sit and wait until it comes to me.”
“And what will you do when they reach you?”
“What do you think the Thane Alystair would do, Steph?”
“You would fight them all?”
“Well, as many as I can. I’m not going down without a fight. May I ask why?”
“Why you asked me. Something on your mind?”
“Well, I just wanted to know.”
“Not like Steph to lie to anyone. But then again, not like Steph to have reason to lie to anyone. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“Spit it out.”
“I don’t know how to say it.”
“Protection. I think that is how you say it.”
“I was just about to ask you while you are still here. Why still work for me, when you may not live to see another paycheck? I figure you don’t want to die. No one does, really.”
“Well, I’m glad you understand.”
“Stay here. I won’t go anywhere. I will protect you.”
“But what about your home? Don’t you have anything you want to save?”
“Anything important to me can be found right here. I’m home here, as well. But what about you? Have you anything you’re going to need from home?”
“I have already taken the liberty of bringing everything here.”
“Knew I would say ‘yes’, did you?”
“I have worked with you for quite some time. I think I knew better.”
“Hah. Good girl."
Maelo…a western suburbia in the Resk state of Ettard, was the home to a very notorious yet popular meeting place, Euphoria. Euphoria frequently housed some of the most unsavory people of the region, and is rumored to be the center of the largest criminal ring on the planet, Endgame. All known Endgame members were commonly found here.
Euphoria is fronted as night club that always offered live music. This particular club offered services that were…deeper than any other club allowed, granted you had the monetary compensation for it. Men from all over the world have come there just to sample the tastes of this club. This alone, would leave anyone to think that would sustain the place financially.
But it is the background movements that are the real cash flow. Here, anything can be found, and anything can be done. Many authoritative positions have been arranged through contacts of this place. The worst of the worst can be found here, as well as the best of the best of their fields. It may be a place of sin, but it attracts all kinds of life. Tonight, however, is a special night.
Tonight, was the birthday of Sunra “Setsuna” Schtauffenguard, son of Councilman Schtauffenguard, and would-be heir to the House of Schtauffenguard inheritance. Sunra was well known for his life as a privileged rich boy, and lived a very illustrious life. He was frequently found with different women in different places around the world. For whatever reason, Sunra decided to join the military when he was a resident of the Talpan Empire. There, he met the then bounty hunter Raa’Jek, who became a close partner. Since news of the world ending has spread, many people defected from their military, and Sunra was no exception. He came back to Ettard after deserting, and on his 25th birthday, he is here, at Euphoria.
Special entertainment would be brought out for Sunra. He and Raa’Jek sit in the best spot of the VIP, get the best women with them, and have the best drinks at their table. Sunra has been to Euphoria many times in the past, and has developed a very deep reputation here. He was a common name here, and always stole the show when he showed up.
Shoulder to shoulder with women, the music dies down, and the band on stage takes to microphone. They announce that tonight is Sunra’s birthday, and that their next song was for him. Right as they strike up the drummer, a loud shriek from a girl in the crowd could be heard. Everyone in the crowd instantly silenced, and a spotlight was put on the woman who screamed. At this time, even Sunra got up from his seat to look at what was going on. “Oh my God, it’s D!” she shouted. Sunra immediately frowns. He doesn’t care for this at all. “Someone’s thunder just got stolen.” Raa’Jek thinks, regarding Sunra.
D…D was the owner of Euphoria. In this place, his name was the only name that could trump Sunra. He was pretty much a legend in the mafia for the rising of his organization globally in little time. He was a tall man, who always wore black, and kept a hood over his head. Barely anyone knows what he looks like under the hood, but everyone knows it’s him. There is a certain…aura around D. Wherever D went, people could feel him. They say u were cold, and helpless around him. Rumor also has, that he could get almost anyone to do anything we wanted. He just had that certain something about him.
Several years ago, it was said that Sunra tried to usurp him. In an attempt to please his father, as well as expand the wealth of Schtauffenguard House, he tried to buy out Euphoria, and take the business for himself. Sunra was always a greedy person, trying to take as much as he can, and Euphoria was the only placed that slipped through his fingers.
D had walked through the crowd and up to the stage. By the time he reached the stage, everyone could see the instrument he held in his hand…an electric guitar. The guitar was a black custom instrument. Black body, black neck and head, black strings. D walked up to the lead singer and stared at him, as if to peer through his soul. The singer stood there for no more than a second, before nervously swallowing a gulp of his own saliva, then promptly stepping aside. D sits in the singer’s chair, plugs in his guitar to the amp, and gently strums.
The crowd watches in silence, waiting for D’s next move. Sunra’s face twitches in agitation. After a few notes were strummed, he begins a chord, and the rest of the band follows right in. Everyone was aware D’s musical interest was hard rock, and soon the crowd resumed their business. The singer came back to take the microphone and resumed his duties. Sunra sat back in is seat with a big frown on his face. The women around him console and feed him a drink. Sunra is not interested in consoling. In fact, trying to make him feel better made it even worse for him, and he slaps the drink from the woman’s hand. This makes the group at Sunra’s table get very quiet.
“Really? Over a little concert?”
“He’s mocking me, I know it.”
“I think you’re taking it a bit far.”
“No. Fuck that guy. He thinks he’s so great.”
“Well, if he is so great, he certainly isn’t showing it…or he’s gay.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s looking right at you.”
Just then, Sunra looks back at the stage to see D coldly staring at him. This look was unmistakable. D’s eyes seem to be bulging, looking at him so strongly. Sunra becomes petrified looking at D. Raa’Jek can plainly see the fear in Sunra’s eyes. Raa’Jek squints his eyes to look at Sunra…inspecting his reactions.
Sunra began to sweat. His face shook with fear, his heartbeat went into overdrive and his breath suffered shortness. With all this happening, Sunra still would not let his eyes off D’s stare. One would wonder if he even could. Sunra continued to suffer as D continued to play. D played harder and harder, putting Sunra in a sort of trance. At about this time, the guitar solo of the song came, and D used this to make sure of his hold on Sunra. The crowd was none the wiser of D’s intentions and neither was Sunra’s table save for Raa’Jek. They all assumed that D was just pleasing them with an awesome performance. Even D’s hood came down from the vibration of his body from strumming so hard. The crowd screamed as they saw the man for the first time with slick back black hair, short cut with small bangs in the front. Sunra started spitting up and his mouth slowly started to foam. Raa’Jek could see, but was powerless to do anything. For some reason, Raa’Jek felt compelled to sit back and watch only.
The end of the solo was approaching, and D slowly grinned with satisfaction. It seems whatever he meant to do, he succeeded. For a small moment, D’s eyebrows twitched. Looking to the side of the stage, he noticed a man in samurai-esque clothing undeniably from Japan, standing completely still and staring at him. With a simple nod, D looks back at the crowd and finishes the solo…finishing the song entirely.
The crowd roars with applause. D looks at Sunra, who is by now, out of the trance. Sunra sits back in his chair, holding his chest, breathing heavily, and wipes his mouth. Sunra reaches for a drink and downs it quickly. Raa’Jek looks at Sunra estranged, then back at D. D only smirks and chuckles before slowly turning away from the stage.
D walks down the left side of the stage down to the samurai dressed man from Japan. D approaches him, and leans down a bit to whisper into his ear. While the crowd was still cheering him, it was impossible for anyone to hear what he was whispering to the man. However, amongst the whispering, he nudged his head to the top balcony, finished his peace, and walked toward the backstage. Immediately after D walked from the man, the man turned to look at Sunra finally finding his composure. He looks at him for a while, and then at Raa’Jek. Raa’Jek looks at the man, and instantly noticed that there was something “special” about him as well. He wasn’t here just as a visitor here. He was important. The man looked at Raa’Jek for a moment longer, closed his eyes, and followed D to the backstage.
Elsewhere, in Kubris…a very famous southern suburbia in the Kans state of Brukenhail is the largest known chapel in the world, the Rapture. Recently, this chapel has been overrun by outsiders scared straight of the impeding battle to come. The chapel compound is packed to capacity, but it still runs efficient. The chapel personnel have been attending to the people on a daily basis, and more and more flow in by the day.
Here, on a Sunday morning, the last minute preparations for the service were going on. Through the compound, the head of the area walks around in his robes. Known to everyone simply as “Father Seraph”, he is welcomed by all people who meet him. He has been a part of the Rapture for many, many years. His look was very young, despite his age. He was well into his forties, and sounded like it. He was tall with long blonde hair, and blue eyes. His skin was very fair, and he carried with him a demeanor like none other.
Everyone was drawn to Father Seraph. Like D, he had an aura to him. He was known as a great healer, and mentor to some of the most famous people in the world. Most of his works have been within Rapture walls, but he has had many successes out in the rest of the world. He is usually accompanied by his two aids. These men are also blonde with blue eyes. They are the brothers Gray: Kanryuu, and Tohryuu. Kanryuu and Tohryuu Gray were twins that have been a part of the Rapture for nearly as long as Father Seraph, himself.
The brothers were responsible for managing the events of the Rapture, as well as foreign relations and branches of their chapel industry abroad. Recently, they both have been spotted in back and forth visits with from Japan…more distinctly, the Hiryu compounds. No one knows precisely what the two have been doing there, but they have steadily reported strictly to Father Seraph upon their returns.
Now, Father Seraph walks into Ascent Hall, the main wing where the congregation sat in wait for him. The double doors burst open, and in he walks, calm and collected. The people turn to him, looking for salvation. As Father Seraph walks up the crimson carpet of the hall, he looks around to see the faces of despair. Reaching the altar, he kneels, and recites a small prayer under his breath. He then walks to his podium to begin the service.
Father raises his hands, and the congregation raises to their feet, with hymnals ready. Father looks behind him to a board on the back wall. #74. That was the number hymnal they were to sing in their hymnals. When he turned around, the congregation turned to the hymn, and held the hymnals in front of their face, ready to sing. Once the crowd is set, Father turns to the choir. The choir inhales a deep breath in unison, preparing their lungs for the event. Father then turns his head to a door on the rear left of the hall. Out it, comes a man of high class with white gloves. He silently walks over to the gargantuan organ to the very rear of the hall, and rests his fingers on select keys.
Father turns back to the congregation, and raises his hands one more time. All eyes are on him. It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop in the hall. Utter silence, until Father fiercely drops his hands like a maestro. The organ plays a loud and powerful chord, as the intro to the hymn. 11 notes of intro and the choir chimed in for their part. Soon, the congregation follow suit, and the entire Ascent Hall resounded with echoes of the hymn.
This particular hymn was widely rumored to be Father Seraph’s favorite, and lasted several minutes in length. It was evident that at the very least, Father Seraph was enjoying the song. His eyes were closed, and his face displayed a rare kind of euphoric bliss. This lasted for about the first minute of the hymn until Father heard an obvious cough from behind him. Father opened one eye and looked to his side. There, he can see the white haired Tohryuu Gray placing his fist behind his back with his head down. He stands next to his brother, the blonde Kanryuu. After finding out who it is, he closes his eyes again, enjoys the song for a moment longer, and takes his exit from the podium. He walks to the twins, and they show him in the door. The three of them walk in, and the door closes behind them.
In Japan, several miles outside the famous Mitsurugi Estate, another hooded figure is seen fending themselves off from some armed foes. This figure was good at what they did. Their enemies fell easily. The figure, however, was merciless. It didn’t just defeat them…it murdered them…ALL. It moved almost emotionless as it disfigured and dismembered over 50 assailants. Even the ones that tried to run away were chased and mutilated by the figure’s claws. No one was safe. By the time they were done, the noticed that the night had come.
In that moment, they noticed something was changing within them, and their heart began to beat hard and slow. A familiar cat-like purr came out, and the figure looked at the moon. After one glance, the figure became unable to stand, and dropped to its knees. It grips its arms tight enough to sink its already bloody nails into the flesh. The purring grew to subtle growls and snarls. It was obvious that the figure was in pain. While still on its knees, the figure hunched over and let out a small roar, yet tried its best to muffle the sound after the initial burst. It took one hand of its arm, and put it on the ground for support. Heavy breathing became more and more severe, and they grip the ground strong enough to break it, and pull a chunk of concrete out of it. The figure crushed the chunk it its hand as the veins in it begin to bulge, with profuse throbbing. The figure’s pain continued and it thrusts its head into the ground, denting it. For a small moment, the falling of the figure’s head was too fast for the hood, and the face was temporarily exposed. Similar to the last figure in hood, it was cat-like in appearance. The fur was darker, but it shared the same golden pupils. This particular figure however, was more extreme in its feline likeness. The top canine teeth protruded from the mouth, and reached almost to the chin. The whiskers were almost twice as long, and the ears had grown and fanned out the sides of the head. The eyebrows extended past the sides of the face, almost equaling the length of the whiskers. The figure can see in the distance, a large building, and begins to make their way toward it…all the while hollering in pain at the ebon full moon.
Back in Gnis Rupa’a, Councilman Meilteif is hard at work. The building and surrounding premises that was once known as the Embassy of Lal’Come, had heavy construction happening. Meilteif commanded a construction team that worked around the clock. Like most of Meilteif’s work, not many people knew about it, let alone what his intentions were, but one thing there is to notice, is that the people working the site aren’t your standard construction laborers. They wore clothes of all different creeds, as opposed to a construction uniform. It seems all walks of life were on this site, everyone from the business sector, to the homeless.
Not only did these people seem to not fit the bill of a normal construction worker, but they also shared another noticeable trait…silence. The workers all worked in complete silence. If one looks closely, you could see that all showed an empty expression on their faces and dilated pupils. No hard hats, no safety gear, just work. Meilteif only watched as the work progressed, momentarily glancing at his watch as well as the sun. Meilteif is waiting for something…