Johann struggled to close his eyes. The vision of beauty was too much. Many Ancients were gorgeous, especially those who progressed into Actualisation. Even he was better looking than when he was still in the Second Growth Stage. Actualisation allowed one to reach one's ideal state, and most people found flaws in their visages were gone.
The woman slowly walking down the tunnel? She was perfect. But he didn't know how much of that was self-directed and how much was natural. Why did it matter? In a society of pretty people, vain people, sometimes, what they were born with was more important that what they could do later in life.
Also, he mused as she walked closer, he wasn't sure how old she was, but her features…looked young. Too young. Teenager young. What kind of Abyss did she walk through to require that kind of forcing? How old was she, really?
There was almost a compulsion to look at her, too, to admire her beauty, and to devote himself to it. That…was harder to fight than he expected, and thankfully, he felt no ill Intent, no malice from it. It was simply a consequence of her existence, and the need to worship and devote himself to her was just a passing fancy. For now, at least, something deep inside him whispered, but he shook it off. For one thing, he was too young to entangle himself in anything romantic, and his mum would kill him if he inadvertently entangled the family into deep waters. No, better to admire from a distance. Besides, as long as he didn't creepily stare, looking was free. She certainly made minimal attempts at concealing her features.
It was only after she strode a couple of dozen paces did he actually note her attire. A light grey trench coat that hung open. A white, long sleeved shirt with ruffles and lace falling from the collar. A tight pair of trousers that clung to and revealed every curve of her legs. Combat boots that rose to mid-calf. Her attire was in shades of grey and black, and it was only her golden hair, and piercing blue eyes, that gave her colour. He imagined her complexion was pale, milky, but he couldn't quite tell since the golden glow of her exposed Anima washed it out.
Why did she have her Anima exposed like that anyway?
As she came closer, he moved to the edge of the wall and waved at her.
"Greetings!" he called out in a friendly tone. Despite the mystery that the woman was, he was quite curious. The society of the Ancients of the Conclave, conclaves, it really should be renamed, were plentiful and spanned the entirety of the Arcadia Region and beyond. As far as he knew, the Conclave had a little influence with three other Regions, and major influence in two others, including Arcadia. Each Region was at least a million leagues across, and it was only the network of portals that connected everything. Not that one could travel from one end of a Region to the other end in a simple crossing. The most one portal line could cross was roughly a hundred thousand leagues. The interference from the other layers of reality and the void grew too much for safe travels. Portals that spanned that far also took an inordinate amount of time to recharge too, so it might take a year or so of portal hopping to cross a Region. Then, portalling across Regions was another matter entirely.
The woman waved back, her icy demeanor melting slightly as she returned a slight smile, barely more than a curve on her lips.
"Please hurry, my lady," Johann said. "We know not when the forces of the Fallen return."
She nodded and moved across the intervening distance easily at a smooth, gliding run. He couldn't help but admire the graceful movements, but he shook himself out of his reverie and signalled to the gunner to lower a ladder.
The wall did not have a gate. There was a ramp that could be lowered in case a vehicle was needed, but personnel must take the ladder or get up on the wall with their own efforts.
It turned out the ladder was unneeded. The woman leapt up the wall with ease and landed three paces away from him. The wolf pup he noticed hanging off her back stared at him in what he imagined was a judgemental gaze. She absently patted the puppy's head with a hand. The other continued to hold her weapon.
Johann couldn't help but stare at the crude implement. It was a bulky blade, roughly a pace in length and thick as a cleaver. He wasn't sure if it was actually sharp, but it didn't have a proper handle. She was holding the thing by the tang. But…he could also see that her Anima was infused into it. He hadn't sensed it from far away, but the menace he could feel from the metal was unmistakable.
"Greetings," the woman returned, eyeing him carefully. There was even a little wrinkle on her brow as she examined him, and probably his Anima. Unlike the blazing gold of hers, his was a subtle silver the colour of his hair, except it wasn't quite so shiny. Not unless he charged it with electricity anyway.
"I welcome you to Heartguard Fortress, though it isn't much of a fortress, more a sturdy campsite than anything else," Johann said. The gunner next to him was fidgeting nervously, and his gaze bounced from the woman's face, to her weapon, and to her shapely hips and bosom. "Control yourself, private," he whispered. The man jolted and saluted, looking shamefaced.
The woman evidently heard him, and to his relief, did not look offended. She simply smirked at the private, which then fueled his embarrassment further.
"Ahem," Johann coughed. "My name is Johann Larson, Actualised Ancient of the Conclave Technocracy."
The woman…girl? He wasn't really sure since her eyes were deep pools filled with unknown wisdom yet the rest of her screamed youthful exuberance. She tilted her head and asked, "Technocracy? Not the Conclave of Authority? Ah, Yuriko Mishala Davar." She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and continued, "Transformation Ancient."
Johann's mouth and throat was suddenly dry. He bowed low, and greeted, "Your Excellency." He did wonder, after a moment, why she did not mention her particular Conclave, and why did she assume that he was part of the ruling council?
"Excellency…?" Lady Davar murmured.
"I…" Johann stuttered. No, she couldn't be? Right? No Ancient of the Conclave would be ignorant of etiquette. It was the same for every branch. And she would not have reached Transformation without learning. For that matter, was she even telling the truth? He could not tell simply because his Anima was not strong enough. She could be a stronger Actualised, or as she said, in Transformation. She did not press her Anima on him, so he couldn't judge that way either. And for that matter, she did not touch their Animas together as protocol stated, when Ancients met for the first time. "Are you…not of the Conclave?"
"No."
She must be far beyond what Sufrugious could reach. Five Regions was huge, but the world was bigger than that. But the only place she could have come from…no, there were too many possibilities. Instead, he swallowed his unease. She had not proved hostile, even discounting the fact that her presence inspired…admiration.
He carefully extended a hand, and his Anima stretched out from his palm. "Forgive my presumption, this is how we Ancients greet each other for the first time."
"Hmmm."
Yuriko Davar nodded, then extended a hand as she walked closer. She was much taller than he was, he quickly realised. Six or so inches and his face was about level with her clavicles. From the palm of her hand, a tendril of golden aura extended, but she halted before they touched. Johann slowly extended his tendril and they touched.
"Oh."
"Ah!"
She was in Transformation, and her foundations were impeccable. He could tell, because he couldn't garner anything else from her aura other than her Anima strength. The only thing he could discern was the bottomless depths that held, and hid, the extent of her power. She was probably not a rogue Ancient, but he didn't know what her organisation was and what they represented. She didn't seem to want to disclose it either, but being of higher rank, she was well within her rights to do so. Still, Conclave policy was to bring every Ancient to the fold, even if the association was just a mere connection. He had his duty, even if he wasn't quite sure what the extent of it was. However, he hoped it wouldn't be onerous when it came to this woman.
"That was… strange," Yuriko said after their tendrils untangled. Johann blushed as he felt her Anima seemingly caress his own. Their tendrils had wrapped around each other subconsciously in their preoccupation. She noticed his expression and giggled which only added to his shame. And further convinced him that she was far younger than any Transformation Ancient. Some of them were at least two or three hundred years old, and those were the youngest. The average, if he recalled the census data, was around five hundred years old. Ancients didn't age, after all, allowing them to spend as much time honing their skills and foundations.
Well, that and it was beyond difficult to advance through the stages beyond Actualisation. At the minimum, Transformation needed a Colligia.
"You must be from far afield," Johann said casually. "The Conclave usually finds any rogues long before they reach Actualisation. Long before they kill themselves, too."
She blinked at him, then nodded gravely. The World Trials can, and usually were, deadly to the uninformed, the weak, and the hasty.
"Indeed," she answered, though she refrained from commenting on her origins. Cautious. Then she said, "Your Anima is pleasantly tingly."
"Ah! Uhm, yes." Johann felt his cheeks flush a bit more, then he said, "Yours is pleasantly warm."
"Thank you."
"So…what brings you into these depths, Your Excellency?"
"Hmm, call me Yuriko. And I followed a group of kidnappers under the mountain, and found them sacrificing their victims into a yellow blood pool."
"Dragon cultists!" The gunner cursed and spat.
"Yes, I think they are," Yuriko nodded. She retracted her hand as her gaze shifted to her naked weapon. She shrugged and hung it on her belt.
"Forgive me, Your…Excellency?" the private said, "for my disrespect."
Yuriko just waved dismissively.
Johann cleared his throat, "Can I offer you hospitality? You seem to have gone through quite a journey."
"I have, and I don't mind."
"Then, this way please." Johann nodded towards the stairs behind him and he walked beside her as they made their way to the fortress' amenities.
_________
Emmanuel Silva frowned as he entered the office, not his own, of course, and not even in the same mega building. The stench of rot and decay was so foreign in the Violet Zone that its presence stunned him, for all that he had been forewarned. The corpse was only a few hours old, but the putrid stench made him feel as if the body had been left rotting for days.
The office was spacious and opulent, nearly two hundred paces square, and all for a single man. Or rather, a manchild as rumours would have claimed. But, at the very least, the ornaments and wall hangings were tasteful. As for the corpse…
It was hung by a rope made out of its own guts, looped over a chandelier. The body was naked, flayed, and was castrated.
But that wasn't why Silva was brought here. The room had no security cameras to provide the man privacy, but the long couch as well as the mini bar pretty much told him what kind of events the man hosted. But all approaches to the office, from the hallways, to the air conditioning vents were monitored and trapped. Yet, there had been no sign of the killer, absolutely no records.
But Emmanuel could feel lingering traces of a foreign lifeforce. One that he easily collected and placed in an ephemeral sample holder.
"Now then, Mister Daniel Malta, what did you do that warranted this kind of reprisal?" Emmanuel muttered as he checked the rest of the room, then eventually, the man's computer systems. His eyebrows rose, and he chuckled darkly. "Foolish boy, to touch what should not have been touched." Yet the response was too much for his crime. Thankfully, the information request had only been for two of the people the victim ordered captured.
"You reap what you sow," Emmanuel chuckled darkly, before he made his report and left. But the data spread a bit farther than he expected…