'If goodness and hope are virtues of the strong, Master, why should I serve someone so weak!?'
...
Aaron groggily opened his eyes to another day. In a sleep empty of dreams, all that occupied his mind was the previous, terrible night and the surely terrible future that waited for him. Staring into the stone ceiling, counting every dot on the ancient temple, his mind and soul protested the idea of making any effort at all, but he must, and he knew he must, and so, cricking and cracking, he lifted himself out of the cold cot.
9:18 am, The Temple of Hephaestus, the Acropolis
Getting dressed, he popped his back and allowed his eyes and mind to wander, firstly towards what needed to be done for today: he had to move, and move quickly, but he didn't know where. This was especially complicated by his box of munitions which was both heavy and conspicuous: wherever he'd go, there were a complicated set of requirements to keep himself secure, and it was far from obvious where that could be aside from some fortunately placed crack-house.
The second place it wandered was to his Servant, and the fight they had the night before. Guilt, anger, and other emotions he couldn't make sense of turned over and under at the thought, and, ultimately, he could reach no answer other than to simply pretend it had never happened, and to continue with the war in stride.
"Rider."
...
"Rider!"
...
"Come on, Rider! We've got work to do!"
...
He huffed, suppressing his desire to call his Servant any number of insults. Whether he liked it or not, they were stuck together, and nothing would come of ostracizing his only path to victory. Instead, he gathered up his clothes into his suitcase and began to fiddle around on his phone, doing his best to line up the map with his limited understanding of the local leylines. While doing this, he accidentally slid the screen to the left and turned on the camera, looking himself in the eyes.
He didn't care about his appearance, but he was still caught off guard by how much his hair had grown. He kept the sides of his head shaved, but, in the two-week-or-so period since the war began, he had some solid tuft going all the way around his head which made the attempted mohawk appear out-of-place. This perturbed him in an odd way, such a way that he couldn't describe and, in some effort to fix it, he pulled his bangs taught and cut them with his knife. He couldn't fix the odd way the top of his head transitioned into the rest, but at least his bangs he could do himself.
He sighed, not sure how to navigate the path forward, and peeked out of the temple, looking for some sign of what to do or where to go.
-But there, on the steps outside the temple, was a man he recognized. They had had a passing conversation or two, and, with the uniform, it was clear that this was a coworker. He was older, no younger than forty, balding on the top of his head with a thick beard and wide nostrils. His skin was tanned, though it couldn't be said if it was ethnic or a result of long hours in the sun.
What could be said with certainty, however, was that he was waiting for Aaron.
As he poked his head out, the man turned to meet him with piercing green eyes, "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you were gonna wake up. You do realize that your shift started nearly three hours ago, right?"
"Uh-right. Sorry." He put on his best fake smile, but even he could feel how sorry the attempt was, "I guess I didn't get enough sleep last night- I really needed a nap, you know?"
"Ah, yes." The man scratched his beard thoughtfully, "I, too, love my eight-hour naps."
They watched each other closely, both being aware of the other's game, and aware of their mutual awareness.
"Come on, now. Don't be shy." He patted the stone stair next to him, "Let's have a little chat, son."
Every internal flag within him had been raised, and, among the menagerie of possible options, he decided that, for now, it was best to assume things were as they appeared, and sat down next to the older man without hiding his caution.
He stared up into the clouds, "So, where have ya been?"
He feigned ignorance, "...I'm not sure what you mean."
"Sure ya do. You disappeared for two days, and it just so happens that the Acropolis was attacked in the meantime." He turned to Aaron, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would ya?"
Aaron looked away, "No, no, I-uh..."
The man nodded sagely, "True, true. There are a lot of things you don't know. Like that your cover was blown, or that only security guards are allowed to be on the grounds right now, or that I've known about your little camping trip for a while already."
Seeing where this conversation was going, he grit his teeth and grabbed at his pants leg, "So, then, why are you telling me all this? We're the only ones out here, you know."
He made no attempt to veil the threat.
"Exactly. Makes a great place to talk."
He reached to his hip, and Aaron reflexively shot back, readying a burst of mana before seeing, not a gun, but a pack of cigarettes. He took one out, lit it with a lighter from his other pocket, and flicked out another.
"You smoke?"
He cautiously took the cigarette from the man's hands and performed a quick mana scan to see if anything was off. Finding nothing dangerous but tobacco, he and the old man sat smoking together in silence.
Finally, Aaron couldn't bear the silence any longer, "This was real stupid on your part, you know that?"
He shrugged, "I don't deny it, but, however stupid or dangerous it is, it's not half as bad as whatever you've gotten caught up in."
He took the cigarette out of his mouth and watched the smoke, "You should go. There's nothing for you here."
"I know. I was about to tell you the same thing."
"And why's that? What makes you care so much?"
"Because, son, I've seen enough killers in my time to know that you're not one of 'em. I don't know why or how you've gotten tied up in this crowd, but I want to help you out if I can."
He grimaced, "Are you stupid or something?"
"Maybe. I just wish that I had someone to help me out like this when I was your age, is all. I figure if you and I go to Interpol and tell them what's what, maybe you can get off if you turn in your 'friends', you know?"
Aaron scoffed, "No friends of mine."
"Good, then there's no reason to throw your life away for 'em."
He felt his stomach turn, but couldn't say why.
"Come on, son. I'm sure your friends aren't done. Come with me: you'll get off scot-free and we can stop things before they escalate even more."
The world around him seemed to fall away. Clouds in his mind swirling and churning, lightning crackling, and, in the distance, a great and terrible tempest, which would arrive in just over a day.
The cigarette fell from his mouth and onto the cold stone, fizzling out. Aaron spat out the remnants in his teeth, "Thanks for the offer, but... Interpol can't do shit about it."
"If Interpol's no good, then neither are you. Don't try to be a hero, kid."
Aaron stood up, "It's not about being a hero..."
The words crept up on him, although he tried to fight them back. He hated the thought, he despised it, but, with the clear skies above and around him, he couldn't hold them back,
"...It's about being a man."
'I'd have it no other way, for you, or for anyone.'
The old man sighed, "Are you sure it's manhood and not pride? A lot of young men like you have thrown their lives away for less."
"Does it matter? It's what I have to do, and that's the end of it." He looked into the man's kind eyes, and added hurriedly, "Look, I just have a few things to take care of. Once that's done... I'll come back. I won't spend the rest of my life on the run for a crime I didn't even commit."
He sighed, "Fair enough," and stood up, taking a business card out of his breast pocket, "Use this when you come around."
He took it and slid it into his wallet, "Will do. Now, I'd suggest you get out of here."
He nodded, "Don't do anything too stupid."
"No promises."
-And the man walked off, hands in his pockets, leaving Aaron alone again.
...
Aaron finished gathering his belongings, throwing on a hood, and set off, scampering over the fence as he first had, albeit with more hassle than before, and immediately marched due West.
"Rider."
No response.
He groaned, this was getting old quickly, "If I say we're heading after the girl, will you stop acting like such a pansy?"
He heard the words in his mind, 'Verily, if it should be the truth.'
"Well it is, so get off your ass and help me."
'So it shall be, mine Master. What dost thou request?'
"I need a boat."
....