Eren blinked, and watched as Silas wheeled through the stairway.For a moment he thought the old man would topple with the chair and fall all the way. He saw it play out in his head and brushed it away apprehensively. Fortunately the chair, and Silas, and himself went safely into the chamber, lights blaring to life as their entry alerted the motion sensors inside.The late expanse of engineered space held many different things that were not built to be in the same space.There was a comb under sealed glass and fluorescent light.Some hair on a petri dish.A bunch of outdated radios and tape recorders that could have been used by Hitler himself. Some complicated machinery that was beginning to gather some weeks-old dust. And then a large surface wall covered entirely with papers and photographs.The last bit caught Eren’s attention and he wandered off toward the pile of valuable garbage apparently assembled over years of underground digging. Behind him Silas explained - “Wincheste

A mile away from the mansion, an entourage of eight identical, imposing black wagons approached the building in a long, gleaming and resilient line of steel. The sixth of these cars carried a man whose deep blue eyes gazed through his window with silent power and an air of dignity, much like a creator looking upon his universe. This man and his entourage were headed for the same location where Silas, Vatican Sol, and Eren now resided. At least in the moment, the three of them were still alone. Eren was seated in a gray colored, relatively small, swivel chair, a few meters away from both Sol and the professor. He was looking at what resembled a map — a flat, broad tablet that displayed a simple, process-low diagram. The other two were looking at the same map on their own portable screens. "This is a rough outline to give us an idea of our position and progress. It can be refined as things get progressively clearer," Vatican Sol said. "The black dot on the far left is you, an

NINE MONTHS LATER ‘I told you. They are too sleek to be pushed into admission.’ That was the response he had received from Vatican Sol, when he let him know what had become of the testimony he had filed, on Eren's attack. The Khans, like every other allegation, had rushed it aside as though it were a pesky fly. Well, in some ways it was. Those people... They seemed to have over them and their image, a bulletproof of sorts. And for every witness they could create ten alibis, right there on the spot. At least, Silas thought, the publicity had been useful in some way. But the outcome told him, as it did tell Sol, that their years of investigation would be worthless without some vice-like, undeniable grip on the perpetrators. That way it would be acknowledged, just as it was already long-known, that they deserved what was hopefully coming. And again, Vatican Sol had thought the same exact way. ‘I think the kid is the key,’ The professor could recall him saying.

Somewhere in the same city, a great man stroked his worn, silver ring as he disappeared into his own thoughts. He had a deeply furrowed forehead that when he frowned, it gave him a hawk-like appearance. In the same moment the footsteps of two well-polished shoes approached him rather slowly. The great man turned to look. Then he looked away just as soon, smiling with quiet recognition. His mansion was the only place where he could walk around unprotected, and thankfully there were countless acres to walk. Here he could be just a man, a man who took walks, and fished, and drank tea. Anywhere beyond the boundary that separated them from the ravening outer world, the Winchesters were surely a target, for the downtrodden, bitter, vengeful, and desperate, members of society. "Jared," He called to the man. Only when the man had got close enough did he respond, "Yes, my Lord." The man had blotched, blonde hair that was thick for his age. He had cut it low at the sides, lea

Eren looked out the window for the entire ride. It was a long ride, and uneventful, with Silas and an aide in the front, while he sat in the back of the luxurious car. Now and then, Silas made small idle talk, and sometimes he caught himself with a faint smile. In the overhead mirror the aide's tan face could be seen, peering at the road. He wore a suit like Eren, only without the extra torture of a tie. In addition to the 'sharp' cut suit and black tie, Eren had trimmed, combed, and patted-down his hair so that the curls were less wild. It was the first time in roughly a year that he had done that much grooming. And it was the first time in roughly a year that he was stepping out of the four walls of a building. He took a breather, watching the blur of greenery, concrete and metal that passed them. Many minutes later, they were riding through Winchester territory, which was a display of splendor and vastness. On either side of them large buildings were splayed out.