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.
"Eren, it is a joy to have you back." Vatican Sol's gray hair was growing wild on his temples, so that they stood out like bristles before his ears. Then the same hair crept to the crown of his head in a well-tended, running buzz cut. He was holding the electronic tablet in which they had viewed the 'map' of their plan several months before. He was the only one viewing it now, or whatever was on that screen. "Silas told me when you awoke yesterday. Unfortunately I could not come down at once.” Beside them, a weak sun was casting its gentle rays through the window. The three of them were seated in the professor's study, and Sol's shiny shoes made a scraping sound as they mistakenly grazed the floor. "I have to brief you on your mission," he continued, then,cast a glance in Silas's direction before adding, "But I think there's some other information you will be needing first.” Eren turned to Silas, who had coughed lightly. He had a small pile of about four clean sheets of
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
There was no workout gear, or props, or anything fanciful and 'safe' in Silas's gym room. Fortunately the interface provided detailed workout instructions. For Eren, most of his workouts were calisthenics, including pull ups, pushups, squats, and sit-ups. There was a voiceover detailing the instructions in sets with increasing intensity. On Silas's departure, Eren sat slouched on a bench in the vacant space. The floors had a thin layer of dust over them, giving the gray marble a beige aspect. He closed his eyes for about ten minutes, breathing through his mouth, slowly. There were images flashing through his mind in that moment, some of which he was willing to see and others which he wasn't. One of them was his mother. Eren thought of her cursing, her smile, the way she had called him 'Tiger.' That was... gone. He opened his eyes and saw the dusty floor. Fuck! Sometimes, he would try to pick her up and place her in a good place, a better place where she could serve as
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.
‘Gaine Winchester’ Eren thought. He looked at the boy before him with new eyes. Like a potential enemy. His head was arched in an almost cocky manner and he spoke again this time with a smirk. “I'm not disappointed by what I am seeing, considering what I've heard.” Eren bobbed his head but said nothing. As for Gaine, he saw the change in Eren’s countenance when he called himself 'Winchester,' and he secretly liked it. It made him feel powerful, superior. Around them, people were moving in all directions as the lobby bustled with life. Gaine cast a surreptitious glance in either direction, before leaning close. "I want to warn you, Eren. About my family," He said with sudden seriousness. “I know who you are and where you come from, and how you got here. And I don't like you. But, forget about me. My family, they don't want you to be here." He was staring daggers into Eren's eyes now, both were staring daggers at each other. Gaine went on, turning down the corners of his
There was about half an hour prep period before the televised interview. Silas used this time to brief Eren on what he could say, what he could not say, and what he needed to say. He felt disgusted, in a way, because it would all be staged and fake. He felt that he would be their bitch, a puppet for cagey tactics. So, he asked the professor; "Do we really have to do this?" At this time they both sat close to one wall of the massive convergence room. In reply Silas tentatively slipped a tablet to him, the screen lit with the 'map', a visual scheme which Sol had developed and shown them much earlier. "We have to start here," Silas whispered tensely. “So just be calm and play along.” The old man was right. They definitely had to start somewhere. So, in spite of his disgust, Eren agreed. He did meet also with the Winchester Clan Head, a majestic and decorated, elderly man with curly hair and almost countless bracelets on his forearms. The man shook his hand and s
That night, Eren ate with some difficulty. His thoughts were perhaps overstimulated with wonder. He knew he was growing powerful, even though he was yet to compare what he had to that of true bloodline awakened. He only compared himself in the present to himself in the past. The difference was terrifying. Now he could envision power, as the life force that flowed through everything that had life. White fire, he thought. He was growing more confident, but also more aware of the possibilities. And that awareness was taking some kind of hold on his mind. ‘I hope you are able to control such power,’ Silas had said. It was replaying in his head, almost haunting him. When he returned to his room, Eren looked at himself one more time in the silver plate on the wall. Then he went to dream of white fire and monsters. * He was up very early the next day. After washing in the sink, he went down to meet Silas, who was now in the company of the director; Vatican