STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The heavy footsteps echoed through the room, followed by the sharp creek and SLAM of the door being thrown open. Everyone turned as Eamon Desdemona marched in, his presence commanding and his attire impeccably fashionable. His tailored coat billowed slightly as he moved, his polished boots clicking against the floor with authority.
"Afternoon, Father," Hinako greeted, her voice tinged with nervousness. She sat twisted in a plush chair, her saffron hair styled in a loose French roll, her dirndl dress adding a touch of elegance to her uneasy demeanor. Eamon grimaced, his aged face tightening as he shot her a sharp look, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly. Without a word, he made his way behind the grand desk, his movements deliberate and filled with unspoken angst. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with the weight of his arrival.
Priscilla exudes elegance as she sits with her back straight and her white hair secured up. "Now, dear," she says as she sips her tea from the lavish lounge. "Don't overstress yourself. You know what the doctors say."
With his well-trimmed indigo hair and fine clothing, he glared at Karim. His intense gaze revealed a mixture of disdain and authority, highlighting the contrast between his polished appearance and the underlying dread. Karim felt the weight of his stare, sensing the unspoken judgment behind those piercing eyes. Gripping a hand on the backrest of his chair. "Where is he?"
Karim places a reassuring palm on Hinako's slender shoulder when she squirms. "We are currently searching for him. I am sure he will be found soon."
Snarling, Eamon pulls his chair out. "He is the heir of the Desdemona name. His blatant disregard for his responsibilities and duties shows me that he does not know what that means or how important it is." Pointing his finger at Karim and Hinako, "You two had better think about birthing another heir."
Priscilla chuckles, placing her tea on the table. "Now, dear," she stands, floating towards him in her A-line dress, "While I would most certainly enjoy another grandchild, we should not put such pressure on them." Draping an arm over his shoulder, her fingers knead the graying puff of his receding hairline, "Avian is a little boy. He is doing what boys do."
Shifting his eyes to her, he growls, "You spoil him too much."
Grinning, "Of course I do. I am his grandmother. Give him a chance to grow."
Everyone jumps when Eamon slams his fist on the desk. "It is too…." BOOM! They stumble, attempting to brace themselves as the room quakes. Dust cascades from the ceiling, the walls groaning under unseen pressure. Every step is a battle against the shifting ground, their hands outstretched, groping blindly for stability. The air is thick, mingling with the acrid scent of fear. Heartbeats pound in a chaotic symphony, echoing the turmoil of their surroundings. The cacophony of breaking glass and splintering wood fills their ears, a relentless reminder of the room's unforgiving wrath. "What the?" Eamon launches out of his seat. The door creeps open as men in suits rush past.
"Sir!" A suited man bursts into the room. "Forgive the intrusion, but I must escort you to the safe room?"
"What is the meaning of this?" Eamon barks.
"There was an explosion. A portion of the wall has been destroyed. Now, please, we must go!"
Karim takes Hinako's hand, assists her from the chair, and gestures for everyone to follow. Eamon curses as he reluctantly takes Priscilla's arm. Rushing through the chaotic halls, they slam to a halt. A masked figure in a top hat blocks their path with several suited guards at his feet. Eamon jumps to the front, "What is the meaning of this? Who are you?"
"Ah," Sabo cocks his head, "you must be the nobles. You wouldn't be interested in telling me where your office is, would you?"
Eamon clenches his fist, "Of course not, you ruffian!"
Sabo shrugs, "Oh well. I thought I would ask." Swinging his pipe, he charges at the guard.
Eamon clutches his chest with a pained expression, his fist tightening around his shirt. The world around him blurs as he falls to his knees, the weight of an unknown affliction pulling him down. With a final, desperate gasp, he collapses, leaving everyone around him in shocked silence. "Father!" Hinako rushes to him, taking his hand. The guard sores past them, crashing into the wall. Hinako glares up at Sabo through tearful eyes, "How could you? He has done nothing to deserve this!" Sabo twirls his pipe in response.
Priscilla stands, motioning down the hall. "What you seek is this way." Sabo holds her confident gaze for a long moment, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding. The air between them is electric, charged with unvoiced words and shared secrets. A slight nod from Sabo conveys volumes, a silent agreement passing between them. With a sudden burst of energy, he breaks the gaze and dashes past, his movements fluid and determined. The world seems to fade around them, leaving only the echo of their silent conversation. The others remain oblivious, unaware of the hidden dialogue that just transpired.
"Sabo," he pulls the transponder snail from his pocket when he hears Vaughn's voice. "Status report."
"On track. I should be there in a minute."
"Copy. The surveillance room is secured for now. We have about ten to fifteen minutes before they send reinforcements."
"Understood," he says, swinging open the office door with a firm hand. "How are things on the other end?" His question hangs in the air, tension rising. Suddenly, the building shudders violently, as a fierce gust slices through, shattering the windows into a thousand glittering shards. Papers and debris spiral in the chaotic wind. Taking a step back, he narrows his eyes and smirks, a look of grim understanding crossing his face. "Never mind, I think I know," he mutters, the smirk turning into a wry smile.
"Affirmative, good luck!"
"Same," he rushes to the desk and begins rummaging.
The vault door crashes to the floor as men in suits file in from both sides. She whips Eternal Night through the air in a single fluid motion, sending them into a heap. Leaping inside, she scans the space filled with heirlooms, trunks, and manuscripts. Determined and swift, her eyes dart across the room, assessing the treasures and the imminent threat. "Status report," Vaughn's voice echoes from her pocket.
Speaking into the transponder snail, "Bad news, boss. I don't think it is here."
"Are you sure? Could there be another compartment?"
"I'll check," the room fills with dense mist. Shaking her head, "That's it. This is the only room in the vault." After a long moment of silence, "Boss?" She waits for a response. Footsteps begin to echo from the hall. "Boss?"
"Change of plans," a groaned voice parrots over the transponder snail.
"I am on my way!"
"Negative," Vaughn pants. There is another groan of pain in the background. "Get our partner and meet at the rendezvous."
Marya grits her teeth, "Yeah, but!"
"That's an order!" Vaughn snaps.
"Copy," Marya growls. Men in suits pile in, blocking her path. "I don't have time for this!" Releasing her frustration, she swings Eternal Night, slamming them against the wall. Vaporizing, she reappears in front of Sabo. Her head swivels, inspecting the disarray of scattered books and papers on the floor. "Find what you are looking for?"
Sabo lifts his head. Slamming the drawer, he stands. "No, there is nothing here. You?"
Marya's head shakes, "No. I was told to withdraw and regroup at the rendezvous."
"What about?" Men start to appear at the door.
"No time!" Marya grips his arm, and they dissolve.
*****
"This way," Koala tugs Charlie's arm. They hurry from the road, hiding in the surrounding greenery.
Tucked in behind a tree, Charlie asks, "Do you think he saw?"
Koala gestures, "No, but I don't think we need to follow him anymore." Charlie nods. "Let's go," He trails her as they traverse the wooded cliffs. Spying from an overlook, they kneel, watching Marines enter and exit the central tower flanked by two imposing gun towers, each bristling with three cannons aimed menacingly over the gates. Perched on a desolate shore, the fortress casts a shadow over rows of grim prisoner cells, their iron bars rusted by salt and time.
"It's bigger than I thought it would be," Charlie whispers.
"Yeah," Koala whispers, "It reminds me of the Narine Base near Ohara."
Charlie cringes at the thought. "So, we found it." Peaking his head up, "How long do we stay?"
"We should go," Koala starts to stand when an alarm blares. They freeze, panicked eyes locking in on each other. Marines descend from concealed locations, rushing past them as five small figures scatter in different directions.
"Put me down!" A tiny voice squeals, kicking and swinging.
"Young Lord Avian," a marine holds an azure-haired boy by his suspenders. "How many times must you be told not to play here."
Dangling, he crosses his arms, "You can't tell me what to do!"
The Marine rolls his eyes, "Come on, kid. Let's call your parents. I am sure they are looking for you."
"I don't care if you call them!" Planting his feet, "I don't care if I get in trouble. What are they going to do?"
"Hey!" another Marine calls out. "You two! What are you doing there?"
Koala and Charlie rise slowly, their movements cautious. Panic flashes in Koala's eyes as she suddenly leaps toward Charlie, clutching his arm and pressing close. "Oh honey, look," she giggles, her voice dripping with forced cheer. "It's a big, strong Marine. Maybe he can give us directions." She glances up at Charlie, noting his crimson cheeks and rigid shoulders, his silence betraying his unease. The Marine looms, his expression unreadable, as Koala's playful act hangs in the air, a fragile mask over their fear.
Koala nudges Charlie, breaking his stiff, awkward posture. "Oh, yes," he stammers, his voice shaky as he struggles to push his glasses up his nose. "Good idea. We should ask for directions." His words tumble out, laced with nervous energy, his movements clumsy under the weight of the moment. Koala's playful facade contrasts sharply with Charlie's unease, their dynamic a blend of tension and forced composure. The Marine watches, his gaze piercing, as the pair teeters on the edge of discovery, every second stretching into an eternity of suspense.
"You are so silly," Koala playfully bats at him. In a sing-song tone, "I told you we should have asked for directions earlier. Look how lost we are." Gazing at the marine, she pushes out her lower lip, "You are a big, strong Marine. Do you think you could help us out?"
A flush spreads across the Marine's cheeks as he hesitates, then slowly lowers his rifle. He pats the back of his neck, a nervous gesture betraying his unease. "I'm sure we can work something out," he says, his voice softer now, almost apologetic. The tension in the air shifts, the threat momentarily diffused. Koala and Charlie exchange a glance, sensing an opening.
Two other marines appear from the shrubbery. "We found Young Lord Avian," one of them says. "Who are they?"
"They say they are lost and…"
"Right," the other says. "Well, you know the procedure. I will notify Captain Kai. I am sure he will want to meet with them."
"Yes, sir."