As I sat on the chair opposite to Sherman, my keen sense of smell picked up a fragrance wafting through the air in the room. "...Gyokuro tea leaves from Japan? …you know how expensive those are, right?"
In turn, Sherman simply raised his head to look at me. We simply sat there in silence for a few seconds or so. I also took this short interlude to properly examine him, and when I said his appearance hadn't changed these past 4 years, I really meant it. The man was still wearing a simple, black suit fit for a butler, his hands in white gloves, with his gray hair, even until now, tucked to the back of his head. Beyond this, his appearance had a rather defining feature, which came in the form of heterochromia. The pupil of his right eye was brown, whilst his left was colored red. The red pupil also faintly emanated a weak red glow. Yeah, it didn't take a genius to be able to guess which eye wasn't natural. From what I knew, it was an Ability-derived trait he had possessed since birth. He was one of those rare Origins born from Origin parents, with Abilities from birth. Because of this, they generally happened to be a lot more powerful than typical Origins that Awaken midlife. Putting that aside, another distinctive feature I noticed was the gold emblem of the Cordiale branded on the back of each glove he wore, similar to the golden emblem branded on my hat (that I wasn't wearing) or on the armor of Michael's Vice-captain. The emblem itself was a sign of immense power and authority within the Cordiale, though Sherman had long-relinquished his own status ever since becoming my subordinate.
Anyways, returning to my question about the tea leaves, Sherman gave a half-hearted response. "Expensive, you say? Then it's a good thing it's covered by the Blank Cheques the Cordiale issues for our household expenses." Hearing his words, I made a visible show of rolling over my eyes. With a light-hearted tone, I told him off, "Taking an official Blank Cheque for your own purchases? You know that's embezzlement, right?" The man in turn wasn't the least bit perturbed, and simply replied in a joking manner. "Then it's unfortunate that all the other servants here also enjoy the very same tea for their breaks. I suppose you'll have to fire everyone here." A small laugh escaped from my lips, with Sherman following suit. We just sat there, casually laughing about it. After the past few days of hectic post-Crisis cleanup -not to mention the all-nighter I just pulled- I really needed this little break. Besides, after four years of being away from my house in Arcadia, I'd almost forgotten what it was like having such casual banter with him.
After half a minute or so of simply laughing and enjoying the moment, I lightly coughed, indicating I was moving the conversation along. What to say…hmm.
After a split moment of contemplation, I decided to touch on the matter that had led me to his office in the first place. There was both a hint of amusement and resentment as I spoke, "Well then, was it worth it? Keeping the poor junior maid out in the dark for what? One whole year? Two maybe? All for this one, measly little joke?"
Sherman merely chuckled lightly in response. His casual demeanor reminded me of a grandfather addressing his grandchildren with the wisdom of a bygone century. Even though the man himself was barely older than me. Between him and Yan, what was with these people treating me like some kid to be babied? Just because I'm sometimes somewhat playful? Because I usually keep to a child-like appearance? I'm over half-a-century old, people. Seriously.
Putting my internal monologue aside, I listened to Sherman as he responded to my words, "I do admit it was rather…cheap, for someone of my stature. Still, there's not much left for an old man like me to do whilst counting his days in this manor. It's been a long time since I've bothered stepping foot outside the manor, let alone Arcadia itself. I've seen everything in the world I've ever wanted to see back in my youth. A joke or two is always in order to pass the time."
He continued, whilst raising the teacup to his lips as he spoke, "With all due respect, eternal youth is a rather enviable thing, Master Iv. Time, as we know it, is in the palm of your hands." Upon finishing, he took another sip from the mixture in the cup.
His words were all-too familiar to me. I can't even begin to count the number of such grievances I've heard from him in the past. How many such conversations have we had over the past ten years?
Sighing lightly, I spoke, "Time and time again, I've spoken of this. I know you've already gotten a good grasp of my true Ability, and you know it's a lot more complicated than that. Technically my blood-bodies themselves only last for a week or so before reverting back to blood. Everytime I molt my current body and replace its cells, it feels so artificial, so inhuman," I could gradually feel a mood of melancholy washing over me as I continued on. As I spoke, I could feel my words become softer, quieter, more serene. "-and I've gained an eternity, yet lost every moment of it. I've long forgotten the joy and whims of possessing a single, mortal body." Using my Ability, I mimicked Sherman, using my blood to produce an empty teacup before filling it with my blood that I converted into a simple mixture of tea. The man, in turn, raised an eyebrow in intrigue. Sherman's been with me long enough to be familiar with my whimsical antics and child-like tendencies.
Sipping the mixture, I gave a small exhale before continuing, "Perhaps I would have grown out of my childish behavior, if I could experience age. Maybe then, you would stop treating me like a child, even though the two of us are only a few years apart." Pausing slightly, I killed the soft tone that remained in my voice. Our chat has been enjoyable, but I figured it was time for business. "Still, I'm not here to play games of sentimentality today. It's been four years since we last spoke. Considering you haven't contacted me, I assume there's nothing major going on, but I'm sure there's at least one or two topics you want to discuss now we're face-to-face like this again."
Sherman nodded. "Three things, in fact. First, this little girl you brought in that I've been hearing about lately. Second, regarding the Cracks and the recent Crisis." So he's heard all about them? The Crisis aside, the Cracks themselves were still a classified secret, though considering his past position within the Cordiale, it wasn't too surprising he's informed about the Cracks. I was well-aware he still had many contacts and connections within the upper echelons of the Cordiale.
Oblivious to my inner musings, Sherman continued on, "Lastly…" -only to end his sentence as abruptly as it started. I could almost feel the temperature of the room dropping several degrees as he clasped his hands together on his knees as he sat. Straightening my posture in response, I heard Sherman finish his sentence. "-that new assistant the Visionary has assigned to you." Looking at Sherman, the man was openly on guard. His back was slightly hunched as he sat, almost like a crouching predator, and his hands were clenched together tightly. I could sense the resolve and seriousness from his body language alone, something the man himself was knowingly conveying.
Oh boy…how should I start? Knowing Sherman, he definitely knew Azul's true identity, and from there, had made an inference as to why the Visionary himself had gone out of his way to assign the man as my personal secretary. He probably didn't take Azul's true identity very well. Now then, that seems troublesome, better save it for last.
In a calm tone, I addressed him, "Alright. Let's start with Abigail, then. What's your problem with her?"
The man looked at me, creasing his brows in contemplation. He was probably still thinking about matters regarding Azul, but after a brief thought, he seemed to have decided to put them aside for now. "It is not as much of a problem, as much as it is a curiosity. Considering the coincidental timing, I assume she's had something to do with the Cracks or the recent Crisis?" Registering the questioning tone within his voice, I nodded. "I found her unconscious near a Crack shortly before the Crisis. I assume you know what I'm referring to." Waiting to see the man's response, I continued, "I took a bit of pity on her, so I picked her up." I ended my sentence pretty flatly, since that was really all there was to it, but Sherman's next question caught me completely flat-footed.
"Do you have any plans to make her your Successor?"
A successor?
Wait, a-what?
I took a double-take in response. A Successor?
A Successor…was something related to my position as an Overseer. To explain, once an Overseer had become deceased or unilaterally deemed incapable of service, the Council of Overseers, (aka all seven of us combined) would usually convene to handpick a suitable candidate to inherit the vacant title. But there was an alternative path for one to rise to become an Overseer. That was to be named a Successor to the specific title of an Overseer. Elaborating further, Overseers had the authority to choose a specific individual, who would automatically succeed them should their title ever become vacant, or should they choose to step down themselves. Through the course of the Cordiale's history, most Overseer titles had changed hands, and all titles that had changed hands, had at one point or another, undergone inheritance through a Successor. There were only three Overseers remaining of the original Overseer Council. Three titles that had never changed hands, or been Succeeded. The title of <<Administrator>>, my title, the title of <<Engineer>>, which was Yan's, and of course, the title of the old man, the <<Visionary>>.
Coming back to the topic of succession, the current Ambassador and Financier had both been chosen by their predecessors to Succeed their respective titles, rather than being picked by the Council itself, and the act of choosing a Successor, whilst not the norm, wasn't exactly unheard of either.
Still, for someone that wasn't constrained by age or other human fallacies, the thought of a Successor had never once occurred to me. It was more like a foreign concept. The idea that I wasn't the Administrator itself was foreign. I was the Overseer. The Administrator. A timeless entity that had long eclipsed the biological limits of humans. A being that didn't age. The concept of another Administrator taking my seat, taking my title…it was so…foreign, so wrong. I was the Administrator. Forever and ever. I wasn't anything else. My whole life was tied to my title. There wasn't anything else left for me, so how could I ever appoint a Successor? Not to mention, the girl wasn't even an Origin. Now, it wasn't as if that was a truly major issue. There were plenty of ordinary humans employed within the Cordiale and living within the metropolis in Central alongside other Origins. But for an Overseer's Successor to be a non-Origin, it would be, to put it lightly, very controversial.
Which was what led me to blurt out my response (a lot louder than I expected too).
"What?! No! She's not my Successor! No one is! Why would you even think that?"
Hearing my words, Sherman sighed, as if he was educating an ignorant child. Perhaps he saw my troubled thoughts that may have been showing in my expression. He responded, "I see, it was but a mild curiosity. I can leave it at that."
Contrary to the finality of his words, he continued on, "-but it is not just me possessing this curiosity, Master Iv. From what I've been gathering, many high-ranking officials have already caught wind of your Inquisitors digging through governmental archives. You may not have known since you have already distanced yourself from the Inquisitors since Calvin's betrayal, but after the death of so many talented and experienced Inquisitors from the man's betrayal, the organization itself is facing a severe lack of professionalism. It didn't take me long either to figure out who they have been searching for specifically. Considering the unorthodox nature of their actions, several other Overseers have recognised they were acting on your orders."
His words were a bitter pill to my heart. Sherman was right on the mark that I had distanced myself from the affairs of the Inquisitors. But he was wrong that I was simply ignorant of their current rump state. The current state of the Inquisitors…just thinking about it made me taste bile in my mouth. The Inquisitors I once knew were already gone, gone at the hands of him. Calvin's betrayal was truly a catastrophe for the Inquisitors. It was the main reason why I could never let the man escape, even after five years of him laying low. I didn't care if he was playing nice. I didn't care if we would be dealing with the Cracks. Many Inquisitors died from his betrayal five years ago. I still remember the scene in the facility. The dead corpses. The hollow eyes. The pale faces of the deceased. The faces of people I once knew and cherished. Subordinates I treated more like friends and family. It was honestly a strange thing to say for a group that dealt so closely in interrogation and surveillance, but I genuinely thought close to them. And so did many of the surviving Inquisitors, such as Rhythm and Beat. Doing nothing against Calvin even after learning of his survival, would be tantamount to spitting on my fallen friends, and equivalent to a betrayal of the trust and companionship the surviving Inquisitors had placed in me. I couldn't let that traitor get away. I won't accept it. And when I find whoever in the Council had the fantastic idea to pardon him, and somehow shelter him from my sight, I'll make sure to impart my wrath on them. I'll show them why I-
Sherman coughed lightly, interrupting my train of dark thoughts. He definitely recognised where I was heading towards. Re-orienting myself, I noticed several cracks running through the walls and the table. Inclining my head, I could see the table in front of me visibly shaking a little, before stopping entirely. Shit, my control was weakening, did some of my Aura accidentally leak? That wasn't good. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though it had spread too far. Sherman must have used his own Aura to confine it to the room. Additionally, I noticed a single drop of sweat running down his forehead, though the man himself betrayed no other signs of effort.
After an awkward pause from both of us, Sherman restarted the conversation, electing to completely ignore my little outburst and returning back to the topic at hand. "The point is, the Inquisitors' sloppy work has only exposed your intent to the rest of the Council. Several members are taking notice of the little girl that you seem to have focused your attention on. Thankfully, it is something trivial this time, but on this note, I advise you to reassert yourself within your Ministry and the Inquisitors again. The Inquisitors at least, badly need oversight."
Whilst listening to his words, I looked into the tea within the teacup I was still holding, staring thoughtfully at my reflection within the liquid's surface. I saw my reflection pursing my lips in contemplation.
Clearing my thoughts, I told Sherman in a playful manner, "You know, you sound more like my personal secretary than Azul. Look at you, peeking into my affairs so thoroughly." But as I next spoke, I gradually lowered my tone enough to send my point, "Thank you for the advice Sherman, truly. But my affairs are not for you to settle. As the former "Ambassador", I understand you are still involved with the Council through your Successor, albeit informally."
Briefly collecting my remaining thoughts, I continued on, "-but your duty now is to keep this house running, not to interfere with my Ministry or the Inquisitors," I paused to take a sip from the teacup I was still holding. "-I am already aware of the current state of the Inquisitors, which is why I've transferred most of the important personnel, such as Rhythm and Beat, away from the group, and into my Division itself. And if you can't tell, I'm also keeping the Inquisitors away from the most important missions, like the one to capture Ezra, relying on Samiel instead."
I could see Sherman deep in thought, thinking over my words. I ended off, "I know I act childish and playful, but I'm not a fool, Sherman, though I'm sure you know this already. I appreciate your concern, but ignoring the recent Crisis and Ezra's survival, things are still within expectations."
I could still remember the feeling of despair and helplessness back then whilst watching the Crisis unfold. I was in a position of power, yet powerless to stop it, and seemingly betrayed by the very man who led me down this path. No more. I still don't know what machinations Yan and the old man are brewing up, but I'm not one to idly sit by.
I continued on, "And even if I didn't have a plan for the Inquisitors, what are the other Overseers going to do? Half of them still don't even know what my Ability is. The ones who don't know will not directly challenge me until they do, whilst those aware of its true nature know better than to oppose me. Who would dare move against me in such circumstances?"
"Although at first glance, my power isn't as overwhelming as the Engineer or the Judge's, yet as you yourself know, I've reached the pinnacle of Ability mastery. My position is as solid as ever. There won't be any major interference with my plans. The Inquisitors, and eventually, the Cracks, will be dealt with accordingly. There won't ever be a second Crisis. I'll make sure of it."
Sherman's expression seemed unreadable. If I had to guess, he seemed half in doubt, half convinced. Eh, good enough.
Sighing lightly, I leaned back onto my chair. Although Sherman clearly isn't totally on-board with my ideas, it was still nevertheless a good start. I was planning to rely on him for some of my future plans anyway.
Upon finishing such thoughts, I noticed the cracks running through the table after previously being hit with my Aura. I stared at the scene fot a brief few moments. Sometimes, I'd get a feeling of vertigo from seeing the effects of my power. Even just the slightest leak of my Aura could damage my surroundings, and anything more would already become fatal for non-Origins. Sitting here, I find myself having to give another one of my many reminders, that I wasn't conventional by any standards. I was no longer the scared little girl picked up by the old man all those years ago. No longer the scared little girl that could do nothing but watch as her whole family faded from existence. I was different now, stronger.
And nothing would stop me. I'll follow the old man till the end, but how I do so is up to myself. If the Cracks come, so be it. I won't be led by the nose any longer. I've told myself before, but there won't be another Crisis under my watch. Nothing will change my plans. Nothing will change the Cordiale's order.
......
Although…there's still one unknown variable. Not a serious threat -not even close- but still a threat that has been largely unknown, even to me.
Before I knew it, I found myself mumbling in a small voice, "...perhaps the Deuxieme may interfere…"
As I finished my sentence, the table between me and Sherman succumbed to its cracked wounds, collapsing into a heap of wood. Uhh, oops?
Sherman didn’t look so pleased with me after that.
As I sat on the chair opposite to Sherman, my keen sense of smell picked up a fragrance wafting through the air in the room. "...Gyokuro tea leaves from Japan? …you know how expensive those are, right?"
In turn, Sherman simply raised his head to look at me. We simply sat there in silence for a few seconds or so. I also took this short interlude to properly examine him, and when I said his appearance hadn't changed these past 4 years, I really meant it. The man was still wearing a simple, black suit fit for a butler, his hands in white gloves, with his gray hair, even until now, tucked to the back of his head. Beyond this, his appearance had a rather defining feature, which came in the form of heterochromia. The pupil of his right eye was brown, whilst his left was colored red. The red pupil also faintly emanated a weak red glow. Yeah, it didn't take a genius to be able to guess which eye wasn't natural. From what I knew, it was an Ability-derived trait he had possessed since birth. He was one of those rare Origins born from Origin parents, with Abilities from birth. Because of this, they generally happened to be a lot more powerful than typical Origins that Awaken midlife. Putting that aside, another distinctive feature I noticed was the gold emblem of the Cordiale branded on the back of each glove he wore, similar to the golden emblem branded on my hat (that I wasn't wearing) or on the armor of Michael's Vice-captain. The emblem itself was a sign of immense power and authority within the Cordiale, though Sherman had long-relinquished his own status ever since becoming my subordinate.
Anyways, returning to my question about the tea leaves, Sherman gave a half-hearted response. "Expensive, you say? Then it's a good thing it's covered by the Blank Cheques the Cordiale issues for our household expenses." Hearing his words, I made a visible show of rolling over my eyes. With a light-hearted tone, I told him off, "Taking an official Blank Cheque for your own purchases? You know that's embezzlement, right?" The man in turn wasn't the least bit perturbed, and simply replied in a joking manner. "Then it's unfortunate that all the other servants here also enjoy the very same tea for their breaks. I suppose you'll have to fire everyone here." A small laugh escaped from my lips, with Sherman following suit. We just sat there, casually laughing about it. After the past few days of hectic post-Crisis cleanup -not to mention the all-nighter I just pulled- I really needed this little break. Besides, after four years of being away from my house in Arcadia, I'd almost forgotten what it was like having such casual banter with him.
After half a minute or so of simply laughing and enjoying the moment, I lightly coughed, indicating I was moving the conversation along. What to say…hmm.
After a split moment of contemplation, I decided to touch on the matter that had led me to his office in the first place. There was both a hint of amusement and resentment as I spoke, "Well then, was it worth it? Keeping the poor junior maid out in the dark for what? One whole year? Two maybe? All for this one, measly little joke?"
Sherman merely chuckled lightly in response. His casual demeanor reminded me of a grandfather addressing his grandchildren with the wisdom of a bygone century. Even though the man himself was barely older than me. Between him and Yan, what was with these people treating me like some kid to be babied? Just because I'm sometimes somewhat playful? Because I usually keep to a child-like appearance? I'm over half-a-century old, people. Seriously.
Putting my internal monologue aside, I listened to Sherman as he responded to my words, "I do admit it was rather…cheap, for someone of my stature. Still, there's not much left for an old man like me to do whilst counting his days in this manor. It's been a long time since I've bothered stepping foot outside the manor, let alone Arcadia itself. I've seen everything in the world I've ever wanted to see back in my youth. A joke or two is always in order to pass the time."
He continued, whilst raising the teacup to his lips as he spoke, "With all due respect, eternal youth is a rather enviable thing, Master Iv. Time, as we know it, is in the palm of your hands." Upon finishing, he took another sip from the mixture in the cup.
His words were all-too familiar to me. I can't even begin to count the number of such grievances I've heard from him in the past. How many such conversations have we had over the past ten years?
Sighing lightly, I spoke, "Time and time again, I've spoken of this. I know you've already gotten a good grasp of my true Ability, and you know it's a lot more complicated than that. Technically my blood-bodies themselves only last for a week or so before reverting back to blood. Everytime I molt my current body and replace its cells, it feels so artificial, so inhuman," I could gradually feel a mood of melancholy washing over me as I continued on. As I spoke, I could feel my words become softer, quieter, more serene. "-and I've gained an eternity, yet lost every moment of it. I've long forgotten the joy and whims of possessing a single, mortal body." Using my Ability, I mimicked Sherman, using my blood to produce an empty teacup before filling it with my blood that I converted into a simple mixture of tea. The man, in turn, raised an eyebrow in intrigue. Sherman's been with me long enough to be familiar with my whimsical antics and child-like tendencies.
Sipping the mixture, I gave a small exhale before continuing, "Perhaps I would have grown out of my childish behavior, if I could experience age. Maybe then, you would stop treating me like a child, even though the two of us are only a few years apart." Pausing slightly, I killed the soft tone that remained in my voice. Our chat has been enjoyable, but I figured it was time for business. "Still, I'm not here to play games of sentimentality today. It's been four years since we last spoke. Considering you haven't contacted me, I assume there's nothing major going on, but I'm sure there's at least one or two topics you want to discuss now we're face-to-face like this again."
Sherman nodded. "Three things, in fact. First, this little girl you brought in that I've been hearing about lately. Second, regarding the Cracks and the recent Crisis." So he's heard all about them? The Crisis aside, the Cracks themselves were still a classified secret, though considering his past position within the Cordiale, it wasn't too surprising he's informed about the Cracks. I was well-aware he still had many contacts and connections within the upper echelons of the Cordiale.
Oblivious to my inner musings, Sherman continued on, "Lastly…" -only to end his sentence as abruptly as it started. I could almost feel the temperature of the room dropping several degrees as he clasped his hands together on his knees as he sat. Straightening my posture in response, I heard Sherman finish his sentence. "-that new assistant the Visionary has assigned to you." Looking at Sherman, the man was openly on guard. His back was slightly hunched as he sat, almost like a crouching predator, and his hands were clenched together tightly. I could sense the resolve and seriousness from his body language alone, something the man himself was knowingly conveying.
Oh boy…how should I start? Knowing Sherman, he definitely knew Azul's true identity, and from there, had made an inference as to why the Visionary himself had gone out of his way to assign the man as my personal secretary. He probably didn't take Azul's true identity very well. Now then, that seems troublesome, better save it for last.
In a calm tone, I addressed him, "Alright. Let's start with Abigail, then. What's your problem with her?"
The man looked at me, creasing his brows in contemplation. He was probably still thinking about matters regarding Azul, but after a brief thought, he seemed to have decided to put them aside for now. "It is not as much of a problem, as much as it is a curiosity. Considering the coincidental timing, I assume she's had something to do with the Cracks or the recent Crisis?" Registering the questioning tone within his voice, I nodded. "I found her unconscious near a Crack shortly before the Crisis. I assume you know what I'm referring to." Waiting to see the man's response, I continued, "I took a bit of pity on her, so I picked her up." I ended my sentence pretty flatly, since that was really all there was to it, but Sherman's next question caught me completely flat-footed.
"Do you have any plans to make her your Successor?"
A successor?
Wait, a-what?
I took a double-take in response. A Successor?
A Successor…was something related to my position as an Overseer. To explain, once an Overseer had become deceased or unilaterally deemed incapable of service, the Council of Overseers, (aka all seven of us combined) would usually convene to handpick a suitable candidate to inherit the vacant title. But there was an alternative path for one to rise to become an Overseer. That was to be named a Successor to the specific title of an Overseer. Elaborating further, Overseers had the authority to choose a specific individual, who would automatically succeed them should their title ever become vacant, or should they choose to step down themselves. Through the course of the Cordiale's history, most Overseer titles had changed hands, and all titles that had changed hands, had at one point or another, undergone inheritance through a Successor. There were only three Overseers remaining of the original Overseer Council. Three titles that had never changed hands, or been Succeeded. The title of <<Administrator>>, my title, the title of <<Engineer>>, which was Yan's, and of course, the title of the old man, the <<Visionary>>.
Coming back to the topic of succession, the current Ambassador and Financier had both been chosen by their predecessors to Succeed their respective titles, rather than being picked by the Council itself, and the act of choosing a Successor, whilst not the norm, wasn't exactly unheard of either.
Still, for someone that wasn't constrained by age or other human fallacies, the thought of a Successor had never once occurred to me. It was more like a foreign concept. The idea that I wasn't the Administrator itself was foreign. I was the Overseer. The Administrator. A timeless entity that had long eclipsed the biological limits of humans. A being that didn't age. The concept of another Administrator taking my seat, taking my title…it was so…foreign, so wrong. I was the Administrator. Forever and ever. I wasn't anything else. My whole life was tied to my title. There wasn't anything else left for me, so how could I ever appoint a Successor? Not to mention, the girl wasn't even an Origin. Now, it wasn't as if that was a truly major issue. There were plenty of ordinary humans employed within the Cordiale and living within the metropolis in Central alongside other Origins. But for an Overseer's Successor to be a non-Origin, it would be, to put it lightly, very controversial.
Which was what led me to blurt out my response (a lot louder than I expected too).
"What?! No! She's not my Successor! No one is! Why would you even think that?"
Hearing my words, Sherman sighed, as if he was educating an ignorant child. Perhaps he saw my troubled thoughts that may have been showing in my expression. He responded, "I see, it was but a mild curiosity. I can leave it at that."
Contrary to the finality of his words, he continued on, "-but it is not just me possessing this curiosity, Master Iv. From what I've been gathering, many high-ranking officials have already caught wind of your Inquisitors digging through governmental archives. You may not have known since you have already distanced yourself from the Inquisitors since Calvin's betrayal, but after the death of so many talented and experienced Inquisitors from the man's betrayal, the organization itself is facing a severe lack of professionalism. It didn't take me long either to figure out who they have been searching for specifically. Considering the unorthodox nature of their actions, several other Overseers have recognised they were acting on your orders."
His words were a bitter pill to my heart. Sherman was right on the mark that I had distanced myself from the affairs of the Inquisitors. But he was wrong that I was simply ignorant of their current rump state. The current state of the Inquisitors…just thinking about it made me taste bile in my mouth. The Inquisitors I once knew were already gone, gone at the hands of him. Calvin's betrayal was truly a catastrophe for the Inquisitors. It was the main reason why I could never let the man escape, even after five years of him laying low. I didn't care if he was playing nice. I didn't care if we would be dealing with the Cracks. Many Inquisitors died from his betrayal five years ago. I still remember the scene in the facility. The dead corpses. The hollow eyes. The pale faces of the deceased. The faces of people I once knew and cherished. Subordinates I treated more like friends and family. It was honestly a strange thing to say for a group that dealt so closely in interrogation and surveillance, but I genuinely thought close to them. And so did many of the surviving Inquisitors, such as Rhythm and Beat. Doing nothing against Calvin even after learning of his survival, would be tantamount to spitting on my fallen friends, and equivalent to a betrayal of the trust and companionship the surviving Inquisitors had placed in me. I couldn't let that traitor get away. I won't accept it. And when I find whoever in the Council had the fantastic idea to pardon him, and somehow shelter him from my sight, I'll make sure to impart my wrath on them. I'll show them why I-
Sherman coughed lightly, interrupting my train of dark thoughts. He definitely recognised where I was heading towards. Re-orienting myself, I noticed several cracks running through the walls and the table. Inclining my head, I could see the table in front of me visibly shaking a little, before stopping entirely. Shit, my control was weakening, did some of my Aura accidentally leak? That wasn't good. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though it had spread too far. Sherman must have used his own Aura to confine it to the room. Additionally, I noticed a single drop of sweat running down his forehead, though the man himself betrayed no other signs of effort.
After an awkward pause from both of us, Sherman restarted the conversation, electing to completely ignore my little outburst and returning back to the topic at hand. "The point is, the Inquisitors' sloppy work has only exposed your intent to the rest of the Council. Several members are taking notice of the little girl that you seem to have focused your attention on. Thankfully, it is something trivial this time, but on this note, I advise you to reassert yourself within your Ministry and the Inquisitors again. The Inquisitors at least, badly need oversight."
Whilst listening to his words, I looked into the tea within the teacup I was still holding, staring thoughtfully at my reflection within the liquid's surface. I saw my reflection pursing my lips in contemplation.
Clearing my thoughts, I told Sherman in a playful manner, "You know, you sound more like my personal secretary than Azul. Look at you, peeking into my affairs so thoroughly." But as I next spoke, I gradually lowered my tone enough to send my point, "Thank you for the advice Sherman, truly. But my affairs are not for you to settle. As the former "Ambassador", I understand you are still involved with the Council through your Successor, albeit informally."
Briefly collecting my remaining thoughts, I continued on, "-but your duty now is to keep this house running, not to interfere with my Ministry or the Inquisitors," I paused to take a sip from the teacup I was still holding. "-I am already aware of the current state of the Inquisitors, which is why I've transferred most of the important personnel, such as Rhythm and Beat, away from the group, and into my Division itself. And if you can't tell, I'm also keeping the Inquisitors away from the most important missions, like the one to capture Ezra, relying on Samiel instead."
I could see Sherman deep in thought, thinking over my words. I ended off, "I know I act childish and playful, but I'm not a fool, Sherman, though I'm sure you know this already. I appreciate your concern, but ignoring the recent Crisis and Ezra's survival, things are still within expectations."
I could still remember the feeling of despair and helplessness back then whilst watching the Crisis unfold. I was in a position of power, yet powerless to stop it, and seemingly betrayed by the very man who led me down this path. No more. I still don't know what machinations Yan and the old man are brewing up, but I'm not one to idly sit by.
I continued on, "And even if I didn't have a plan for the Inquisitors, what are the other Overseers going to do? Half of them still don't even know what my Ability is. The ones who don't know will not directly challenge me until they do, whilst those aware of its true nature know better than to oppose me. Who would dare move against me in such circumstances?"
"Although at first glance, my power isn't as overwhelming as the Engineer or the Judge's, yet as you yourself know, I've reached the pinnacle of Ability mastery. My position is as solid as ever. There won't be any major interference with my plans. The Inquisitors, and eventually, the Cracks, will be dealt with accordingly. There won't ever be a second Crisis. I'll make sure of it."
Sherman's expression seemed unreadable. If I had to guess, he seemed half in doubt, half convinced. Eh, good enough.
Sighing lightly, I leaned back onto my chair. Although Sherman clearly isn't totally on-board with my ideas, it was still nevertheless a good start. I was planning to rely on him for some of my future plans anyway.
Upon finishing such thoughts, I noticed the cracks running through the table after previously being hit with my Aura. I stared at the scene fot a brief few moments. Sometimes, I'd get a feeling of vertigo from seeing the effects of my power. Even just the slightest leak of my Aura could damage my surroundings, and anything more would already become fatal for non-Origins. Sitting here, I find myself having to give another one of my many reminders, that I wasn't conventional by any standards. I was no longer the scared little girl picked up by the old man all those years ago. No longer the scared little girl that could do nothing but watch as her whole family faded from existence. I was different now, stronger.
And nothing would stop me. I'll follow the old man till the end, but how I do so is up to myself. If the Cracks come, so be it. I won't be led by the nose any longer. I've told myself before, but there won't be another Crisis under my watch. Nothing will change my plans. Nothing will change the Cordiale's order.
......
Although…there's still one unknown variable. Not a serious threat -not even close- but still a threat that has been largely unknown, even to me.
Before I knew it, I found myself mumbling in a small voice, "...perhaps the Deuxieme may interfere…"
As I finished my sentence, the table between me and Sherman succumbed to its cracked wounds, collapsing into a heap of wood. Uhh, oops?
Sherman didn’t look so pleased with me after that.
