"So, Hanniel said something about how the Deck obtained their abilities through the use of the Key and piercing themselves with it twice. So, if that's so, and the Deck's Leader did so at first, when did they lose the Key… and how?"
As June asked this question, Ace scratched his chin, the sound of brooms' fronts sliding all about in the main room while the remaining three stood together in the kitchen. Cleaners had been alerted to the demise of the Hotel's owner, seemingly by Ace himself with his hands reverting to their hidden state within the confines of his white hoodie, his pink lips parted, thus starting his deduction,
"I looked through the records on the internet over the past two weeks. I believe an inner dispute with one of the members and the Leader had led to a scuffle and debate on what to do next with the Key. I assume that the member snuck the Key out and placed it somewhere safe, however they were never identified until recently…" Ace proposed to the two sitting around the table, to which Kima nodded her head with a solemnity,
"I don't think they knew, though. That he was the one who leaked it to the museum," Kim broke in with her proposal, leading Ace and June to look to her, the former curiously with the younger sibling resting her hands on her cheeks,
"What makes ya say that?" The ginger questioned curiously of his lover,
"Well, I assume that Hanniel didn't just want Katie dead for any specific reason. And I don't think it was because she proposed a threat to himself or the hotel, but because she did to the Leader. I think Hanniel informed the Leader of this and decided to gain permission to kill her, and he was granted it. However, once he learned about her fleeing to Asia, I believe he decided to deviate from the plan and let her leave, thus garnering the Deck's animosity,"
"I'm confused though!" June raised her hand so the other two could turn to her awaiting her continuation, "Uh… why is it that Hanniel wanted to kill only Katie but not stupid?"
Ace shrugged at the question, in truth, thought it but in the end, there was the one thing that reappeared every time he asked himself this. And it was because of Katie's past trauma, her future potential, and her innate darkness. When she first visited the Remnant World, he could sense that unbridled hatred for herself, something that needed to be let out. And the way she slaughtered those beasts without remorse, relentlessly, there was no doubt about it,
"She possesses the innate potential to break free of her mental chains, control her inner darkness and surpass all of us. That's why," Ace nonchalantly stated this aloud for the other two to hear, to which Kima couldn't help but smile and nod,
"That is true. And I believe that's thanks to you, Ace. After all, you're the one who showed her… she was worthy of being loved."
And just at the mention of her name, overseas, there she was, kneeling to a woman with a white eye patch over her right eye. A Chinese robe covering her chest; letting her eyelid peel back into her skin revealed the pink coloration of her pupils, and as she let that palette illuminate these dark catacombs that served as her abode, Katie's palm over her chest retracted as she, too, revealed the azure tint of her pupils. From then on, the grueling process began and the succession to the Crow's legacy… had truly started.
Recollections of the past caught up to Ace, flashes of a time he lived through with open eyes replayed like a projection cataloging events on a screen. It seemed so long ago now when they first met when he lit aflame that transformation at the core of her being. Yet, even as he smiled in the present, he couldn't help but remember that time, two weeks ago, when they were seated around that crazy fire. That look in her eye, one that gave the chimera of death to her soul, as clear as the morning's sun shining upon his face. And now, she seemed to smile so regularly. Was it that she needed something to sink her fangs into, an event to distract herself; to ensure that she needn't think about their fleeing of the Island so regularly?
All of these were mere falsehoods. For it was something you'd see every day that it became a daily sighting, one you needn't glance twice at, and that was… for that look in her eyes had never faded. While she followed her Master overseas out the catacombs so the moonlight's pale illumination could beam off her white skin, there was not a shine visible in any center of her eyes. That darkness- it had enveloped her soul's perimeter, a sphere as hard as a diamond's exterior, able to shatter metal being smashed against it. The hands of the Ace card had culled the inner corruption, but the doomsday clock always has a timer. A climax was nearing, and with the clock striking twelve, it had already begun.
November 26th, 2021. Midnight. The weather seemed to be unkind on this national holiday, as families scattered throughout the Capital awaited the chance to nibble on the turkey carefully placed onto the kitchen table, forces in the shadows of the world were at play. For one, there was the trump card, Ace Wilder standing tall at the edge of a rooftop without any intent to hide his being from any bystanders who dared to look up. Unbeknownst to the ginger hunter, halfway across the city, to the left of the Museum at the center of both directions, there was the Jester. The Leader of the Deck, Icarus rested in a crossed leg position, having his dominant limb bent, right arm laid atop his knee for support. Neither of them shared any intention to stare at their directions, instead, their eyes, one's red and the other's black respectively… were aimed at that monument. That, which held the fruit of their labors, the Key to Hell. A dark artifact capable of granting monsters unsurmountable power… and ridding those of their humanity.
"This is the Jester: the mission is go,"
Hidden among the shadows of the museum, two guards positioned near the outer entrance donning classic suits over their bodies had abruptly vanished. Somehow, none of the hundreds of civilians had noticed… then again, it might've been thanks to the ear-damaging commotion they were responsible for causing, what with their nauseating screeching equivalent to that of a banshee's cries. Then again, people were always bound to notice even the smallest fraction of detail behind a screen, legs propped up against a desk watching a monitor. Equal to that of an eye's blink, a dark-skinned male donned shades hiding the brown shade of his eyes stood on the right, and by his side, was Miriam. Wearing that same suit, her skin just a tad lighter than his, yet dark all the same time, in her right hand, there she carried the case of her signature instrument. Throwing away their sunglasses so they'd click repeatedly against the stairs leading up to the metal entrance, the towering pillars to their sides cast that darkness over their frames so they could vanish into the entrance and take their first step within the confines of the museum.
It was as normal as any museum, what with glass boxes containing the goodies worth well over the usual hundred, swords from feudal ages in foreign countries, artifacts lost at the corrupt sea of the Remnant World only recently recovered by the Capitals' authoritative supervision, paintings brushed to the uttermost pathetic elegance. None of them were significant. For there was only one thing mattered in the eyes of the beholder, and that was the confirmation of the dark artifact… that which was formerly able to open the gate to the cliffs of the demonic realm,
"Inform me when you locate its whereabouts. I will be meeting with you momentarily… when the time is ripe, I shall commence our true operation."
One arm brought up with two fingers pressing against the earpiece engraved into his ear's insides, Icarus stood proud and tall, letting his strands of black move with the erratic winds manifested by the grey environment… the chilly weather, that which sent bumps over his white skin. Turning his head just the tiniest bit for but a glimpse of his dark eyes to become visible, there they stood,
"What took you all so long?" Asked the Jester to his remaining cards that stood by his back.
Three. Three of the remaining cards stood with Chrollo in his Deck while the remainders stood scattered, still appeasing his desires elsewhere. One propped up with a curiosity that couldn't be satiated, one whose hair stood in a ponytail, mouth the same bloody palette as the blood moon on days of climax… those scarlet lips popping at the end of her question she vocalized; puckering,
"What will we be doing, sire? I assumed we'd be allocating the Key with Miriam and Hunter," Inquired Blossom, Jester's Deck Member #5, she wore a basic hoodie over her bust, this one with different colors spread vertically over her chest, basic jeans covering her legs,
"Ridding ourselves of further nuisances, you're with me. Rohan, Jotun, do me a favor: head to the Nest… and take the lives of Ace's sister- and beloved. We'll meet there to confirm momentarily."
As Chrollo commanded his subordinates to accomplish this lofty goal, he was met with a bowing stance from the two men, before Rohan's hand reached to touch Jotun's shoulder. Abruptly, they'd vanished as if the shadows of the abyss's endless depths had enveloped their illuminated souls, leaving not even an afterimage,
"This should be interesting. I haven't been this intrigued since the days of robbing politicians and threatening their families for ransom. What fun…"
To Be Continued!