Inheritance of the World

[Umbra]

For approximately one of you, this story will seem very, very familiar. Inheritance of the World was a nine-chapter story originally posted in the fall of 2007, and ended up serving as a prologue story to my later epic, Legacy of the Tormentor. As LoT is now going into its second volume, people have asked for the full story. Inheritance of the World vanished from the Fanfic forum at some point, lost to the ravages of time. It was my first serious story, and its plot contains some elements and characters that end up being crucial as Legacy of the Tormentor progresses. Therefore, as it technically no longer exists, I have decided to rewrite Inheritance for a new audience.

[spoiler=Chapter One: Isolation]

They had put him in a home. [i]How disgraceful.[/i] He and their mother had dedicated their lives to raising them, molding them into the people they were now, and they had turned on him. They believed he couldn't sustain himself, that he couldn't breathe, eat, or even go to the bathroom alone. Sure, he wasn't young anymore, but he was still vigorous and as strong as he'd been twenty years ago. He didn't need all of this, but they'd forced him to sign it. Said they'd move away, and take their kids with them. He couldn't let that happen. He loved his grandchildren far too much for him to lose them, too. They'd come over for a few hours every Saturday, and their parents would spend the day out on the town. It barely needs to be said that Saturdays were his favorite day of the week. The oldest, Rebecca, would watch the twins – her cousins – play, and he'd watch over all of them. He'd impress them with his magic tricks; how he could always pick [i]their[/i] card out of a deck without even looking at it, and always know which hand held the curled-up paper. He'd smile and say “A magician never reveals his secrets”, and they'd soon go back to playing. He could see some curiosity in Rebecca's eyes, though. Perhaps something more.

Today was a Tuesday. As with every other weekday, he had expected it to drudge on as normal. He'd had lunch, usually the highlight of the day, and bingo night wasn't until tomorrow. He hated bingo, had always hated bingo, but at least it was something. Normally, he'd just spend the nights either lying in his bed, counting the barely discernible dots in the ceiling for the hundredth time, or impatiently pacing back and forth in his room. His life in the home had become mundane very, very quickly, and he wanted nothing but to get out of here... but he couldn't. He couldn't leave Rebecca and the twins behind, not with their parents. Sure, they were family too, but they hadn't done a good job with them. He had rarely been home, and their mother had always been a working woman. The kids had gone through nanny after nanny, none of which lasted longer than a few months. He sighed. His wife of forty years died two years ago, in the summer of 2005. Even if he wanted to leave, he had nowhere else to go. For now, he was confined to the home. He looked at the alarm clock; five thirty PM. [i]Might as well try to get some sleep.[/i]

There was a knock on the door. Three of them, as a matter of fact, each of them louder than the next. His eyes were open the moment the first knock sounded. He may be pushing seventy, but he had always been a light sleeper, and his hearing was as good as it always had been.
“Mr. Underton, are you awake?”
He sighed.
“Yes, miss Wildwood, loud and clear.”
The door opened. Veronica Wildwood was his supervisor; a friendly, young woman, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. She had something you didn't see a lot with the kids of today; respect for the elderly. Veronica and he had formed a rather stable friendship over the last two years; he'd told her how he felt closer to his grandchildren than his own children, how life had become all about those Saturdays. She, in turn, had told him that her sister Becky had died in a drunk driving accident six years earlier. [i]That's why I don't drink. Don't smoke, don't anything. I know what can happen.[/i] She smiled at him.
“I've told you to call me Veronica, Mr. Underton.”
He smiled back.
“I guess I'm just an old dog, miss Wildwood.”
She laughed. He could always make her laugh, no matter what day it was.
“Ah, Mr. Underton, what would I do without you?”
His smile widened, just a little.
“You can't use that excuse though, miss Wildwood. I've told you, I have a name, too.”
She froze, mid-laughter. Looked down at her papers. Smiled.
“You don't look like a Jonah, Mr. Underton.”
He smiled.
“No one's called me Jonah since my mother died. Please, [i]Veronica,[/i] call me Jack.”
She nodded.
“Well, then, Jack. You have a visitor. He's just outside.”

Richard Norgrass took out his wallet. Other than cash, he kept exactly two things in it; his ID from the Crystalfound Corporation, and a picture of his family. It was taken six years ago, shortly before he'd started working for the corporation. It was their last vacation together – a cruise in the Caribbean. His wife, Mia, looked as beautiful as she always had, and their two boys looked happy. Eric, older than his nine-year-old brother Jonah by three years, was smiling. Jonah, on the other hand, was grinning in partial pain. He'd fallen asleep on the ship's sun deck, and his skin had turned a painful red. Richard had been the one to take that picture; to him, that was probably the happiest two weeks of his life.

He hadn't met them since shortly before Christmas that year. He'd started working full-time for the Corporation, and as a result they'd been... separated. He sighed. His boss had told him it was necessary, that what they were doing was important, world-changing even, but sometimes he wondered if it was worth the sacrifice. Not a day went by without him thinking about them.
[i]Eric must be... what, eighteen now? Jonah's fifteen?[/i]
He shook his head. He had to focus. This man was the last one on their list, a list that they'd first started to check off over thirty years earlier. Today, the second stage of their experiments would start. Someone cleared their throat; he looked up. The cute nurse he'd met a few moments ago was standing in the doorway.
“He will see you now, Mr. Norgrass.”
Richard nodded.
“Thank you.”
She nodded back.
“He's on the third door to the right.”

Jack Underton wasn't sure why a lawyer wanted to see him. Veronica had told him it was about something in his will, which was strange but not impossible. With his children and whatnot, he wanted to make sure that his grandchildren were provided for once he was gone. Their parents' lives were too unstable, too unreliable, to put any of his assets in their possession. If he died before Rebecca turned eighteen, all of his belongings would be placed in a bank account on the Cayman Islands. He could explain that, if it was necessary. The door opened, slowly, and the man in question stepped inside. Wearing a suit with a black tie, the slim, brown-haired man gave off a sense of security. Jack looked at him.
“Yes, mister lawyer?”
He turned around, said a few words under his breath through the doorway – most likely Veronica – and closed the door.
“Truth is, Mr. Underton, I'm not here to talk about your inheritance.”
Jack raised an eyebrow.
“You're surprisingly straightforward, Mr...”
The man nodded.
“Norgrass. Richard Norgrass. I work for a company called the Crystalfound Corporation.”
He cracked a smile.
“In case you were wondering; no, you haven't heard of us. We're a rather secretive branch of Industrial Illusions.”
Now, [i]that[/i] was a company Jack had heard of. Industrial Illusions had been founded during the ending stages of the Cold War, with its main goal being to draw people's attention away from the overhanging nuclear threat. They had developed the Duel Monsters card game to fill that purpose, and while the Cold War had eventually ended without nuclear warfare, the game had continued to flourish and practically became a professional sport. Richard continued.
“I can't tell you much more outside our facilities, but... we specialize in people with extraordinary talents, like yourself.”
Jack's eyes opened wide. Out of everything that could have happened today, he hadn't expected that.
“I thought I'd kept that secret better. How did you find out?”
If Richard was taken aback by the question, he didn't show it.
“We have our ways of finding things out. You first showed up on our radars after your appearance on the Daily Show in July, 2001.”
Jack grunted. That had been a horrible day. He strongly suspected that the stress had caused his wife's death and driven him and his children apart.
“I needed to tell people what I saw, Richard. A tower, high enough to block out the sun, shattered into pieces. A shower of bril-”
Richard interrupted him.
“Brilliant light and fire, as if the Apocalypse itself had come, I know. Either way, we can get you out of this place, Jack. You won't even have to worry about your grandchildren. We'll make sure they're taken care of.”
For a while, Jack was silent. He wasn't sure whether to trust Richard or not. Sure, getting out of the home and back into the real world was what he'd wanted for the last two years, but if it meant he wouldn't see his grandchildren... He sighed.
“Fine, I'll come with you. Just let me leave one thing for someone, won't you?”
Richard pondered this for a moment. They were supposed to leave a blank slate, nothing that could be traced back to them. He looked at the old man, frail and gray.
[i]Oh, what the hell.[/i]
"Go ahead, just don't write anything that can lead them to us."
Jack's face lit up, and he reached over to the small wooden cupboard on his right. He pulled out the top drawer, and revealed an old, leatherbound journal. With surprising ease he opened a tore out a page and started writing. However, Jack still had one more thing on his mind.
“How are you going to get me out of here, exactly?”
His visitor simply nodded.
“That's easy. All you have to do is to die.”

“Nurse?[b] Nurse![/b]”
Veronica's mind was elsewhere. She was expecting a call from Greg Bradford, the only other permanent nurse at the home. Greg was in charge of bingo night the following day, and they were still short on supplies. At first, she didn't recognize the shouting voice. It sounded far more vigorous and lively than any of her patients', too powerful. Then, she remembered that Mr. Underton had a visitor; a lawyer that had come to oversee a loophole in his will.
“Nurse!”
She sighed. He probably needed contact information for his next-of-kin, or something like that. She kept her patients' folders at her desk; Mr. Underton's folder was naturally at the top, so she grabbed it and headed down the hallway to the patients' rooms.
“I'm coming!”
She walked up to the doorway, and instantly saw that something was wrong. The lawyer was leaning over Mr. Underton's chest, as if listening to his heart. He turned to look at her.
“We were just talking, and... h-h-h-e blacked out on me!”
[i]Oh gods, no, not today.[/i]
She dropped her folder and ran over to the bed.
“Get out of the way!”
The lawyer stepped aside, and Veronica immediately checked Mr. Underton's pulse. Nothing. [i]Damn it.[/i] With a quick flicker of her hand, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. It took her a few seconds to connect.
“This is Veronica Wildwood at Golden Oaks, we need an ambulance immediately. You have one available? Then get it here!”
She hung up. The lawyer looked at her.
“Did they say how long it was going to take?”
She shook her head.
“It usually takes about–“
There was a honk outside.

Veronica was honestly surprised to see the ambulance outside, already idling. As she stood in the entrance to the home, the front doors swung open and two men stepped out. They were both wearing typical white coats. The driver, a taller-than-average Hispanic with slicked-back black hair and dark brown eyes, froze for a split second when he noticed her. The other man was Asian, tall but unusually thin, with pale skin and black hair. [i]God bless the quota,[/i] she thought. After sharing a quick glance, they came up to her. The Asian man cleared his throat, and spoke with a near-flawless accent.
“We happened to be heading here.”
The Hispanic nodded.
“Routine check-up, you know.”
Of course. How had she forgotten? The hospital always sent up some doctors every other week, to make sure that their residents were still healthy... or stable, at least. It cost them a bit more than they could afford, and the manager had been in countless discussions with the hospital about possible discounts, but that never got anywhere. She nodded.
“Well, aren't we lucky. I'll get you to him immediately.”

The nurse turned around, leading the two men to Jack Underton's room. On their way there, the Asian man turned to face his accomplice. Sweat had broken out on the Hispanic's brow.
“You alright, Rodriguez?”
He had spent the last twenty years of his life in America, but there was still a trace of Japanese left in his accent. Rodriguez nodded.
“Yeah, Takake, I'm fine. Don't worry.”
Takake frowned. He knew Rodriguez well enough not to believe everything he said.
“Was there something about the girl?”
Rodriguez was silent for a few seconds... then shook his head.
“No, nothing. I used to... never mind, it's not important. Let's find Rick and our newest recruit, and get back to HQ.”
The Japanese man simply shrugged.
“Fine. If you want to don't want to talk about it, then we won't. Just don't let it get in the way.”
As they went through the glass doors into the elderly home, shortly behind the young nurse Wildwood, Rodriguez nodded.
“I won't, trust me.”

As the three of them entered Jack's room, Richard looked up. Nurse Wildwood may have suspected something if she'd noticed the exchange of looks between them; however, she was far too focused on her patient. She spoke without moving her gaze from him.
“Any changes, Mr. Norgrass?”
She didn't really need to ask; it was blatantly obvious to anyone, regardless if they'd had so-and-so many years of training in medical school or not, that Jack's status hadn't changed. She spun around, a full one-eighty, only to face the eyes of the newcomers. The Asian man nodded.
“We'll take him to the hospital immediately. You can hand him to us.”
For a moment, she hesitated. Mr. Underton – Jack – was her patient, after all, and it was not only her right but her [i]duty[/i] to-
“You can trust us.”
It was the Latino that had interrupted her. She realized that he was right; they were doctors, after all, she'd seen them dozens of times on the routine check-ups. He'd always been able to calm her down if there was something stressful going on. She exhaled, and nodded.
“The bed's on wheels. You can roll him out.”
The two doctors nodded at each other, and then grabbed hold of each side of the bed. The Asian man nodded at their previous visitor.
“Mr... Norgrass, was it? You may come with us, if you want to finish your discussions with Mr. Underton.”
Richard nodded.
“I will. I have some papers in my car; I'll go get them.”
As the two doctors wheeled the bed out, Richard following them, something connected in Veronica Wildwood's mind.

[i]The lawyer didn't have a car.[/i]
She had worked at the retirement home for two years, now, and knew exactly what cars would be in the parking lot. The other nurses, their rarely seen manager, even the patients' visitors; she knew them well enough that she could identify them at a glance. When she went outside to the ambulance, she recognized every single car in the lot. The lawyer didn't have a car, so he couldn't -
“Nurse Wildwood?”
She turned around. The Latino was standing in the doorway. Still gathering her thoughts, Veronica didn't respond.
“Jack Underton died of a heart attack on the way to the hospital. We were not here.”
They were not here. Of course not. Who were they? She'd never seen them before. Jack Underton died of a heart attack. Of course. Very sad. She'd have to tell his family. The girl and the twins would cry. Their parents wouldn't, probably. Very sad.

Five minutes later, the four of them were in the ambulance. Jack was breathing slowly, but steadily. He'd wake up in a matter of minutes, Rodriguez thought, if Hironima's technique worked as intended. It usually did, but you never knew. He was older than anyone else they'd brought in, older than the boss or his brother. The man was pushing sixty-five, at least. But he was important, wasn't he? Just as important as any of them. He kept driving.

Richard and Hironima were in the back, sitting on the benches beside the sleeping Jack. The Asian man nodded.
“He's the last one, isn't he? It's time for the next step.”
Richard looked at the man lying between them. Five minutes ago he had never met him, just read his file and seen the clip from the Daily Show over and over again. Now, he felt a strong connection to him, something undefinable. He felt as if life had swayed back onto a path, a path he had left six years earlier. His old life had come to an end, back then; now, it seemed that his new life was going to change, too. He nodded.
“Yes. We're heading back to Crystalfound.”
[/spoiler]

[spoiler=Chapter Two: The Long Ride]

Jack Underton opened his eyes to the headache of a lifetime. He felt as if a hundred pieces of gravel were bouncing around in his skull with every bump the bed made. [i]Could you stop that? I've had enough of this place-[/i]
Then, he remembered he wasn't in there anymore. He was staring into a bright, fluorescent light that burned like hell, which didn't exactly help with the headache, and while he was still in the same bed as before, he had left the room. This was the back of a moving vehicle. Using his incredible powers of logical deduction, he arrived at the conclusion that this was the ambulance the lawyer had talked about. So they'd actually made it out, just as he'd said. Jack had no idea how long had passed since they left the home – probably a few hours - but their discussion was as clear as day. After all, he couldn't believe what he'd been told.

“As far as I'm concerned, Mr. Norgrass, a plan that involves my death is a plan worth reconsidering.”
At that, the lawyer – Jack couldn't stop thinking of the man as a lawyer, even though he had explicitly identified himself as an employee of this Crystalfound Corporation – simply smiled.
“Don't worry, Mr. Underton. Your death will only last for a few seconds at a time, just enough to convince the nurse that you're dead. That way, there won't be any annoying threads left hanging when we depart.”
Jack frowned. [i]There's something strange going on here, something otherworldly.[/i] Then again, what did he expect? He'd said they learned of him from that appearance on TV, all he'd talked about was his vision. The falling tower, a building so grand that it shouldn't be able to exist. The sheer size of it was breathtaking, but there was something eerie about the building as well – a disorder, a chaos that should not be. Something dark lurked inside those walls, something far more sinister than anything he had ever experienced. Then – the tower and the sky were one and the same, connected by a roaring inferno of flames and brilliant light shooting out from the top of the tower and gradually breaking through the stone walls. Just as the vision ended, he could see three lights in the sky above – if such a distinction was even possible anymore – the tower, drifting across the sky as shooting stars of yellow, red and blue. It had been almost six years, now, but he still remembered the vision in excruciating detail.

After that, of course, there had been minor events. Once or twice he'd been able to pick out a winning lottery number, he'd know the outcome of a football game before it had even started, and after they'd put him in the home, bingo night would sometimes be slightly enjoyable. Most of the time he would have random, uncontrollable visions, but especially lately – the card tricks with Rebecca and the twins were only one of many occasions – he had been able to peer into the close future and discern what was going to happen. It was certainly an interesting experience, but he used it in moderation. He knew fully well that he was an old man, and, at the age of sixty-seven, he knew that if he looked too far ahead there would only be blackness. Neither heaven nor hell for him, that much he was sure of. Not for people like him.

He shook his head, correcting himself. People like [i]them.[/i] Apparently, these men were like him, in some way. At least the two who had come later; the Asian and the Latino (neither of their names had stuck to him yet; at his age, he was frankly glad he remembered their appearances) had demonstrated their abilities well enough for Jack to understand that these men were something out of the ordinary. The lawyer had explained it the best.

“Two of my associates are waiting just around the corner, in an ambulance procured especially for occasions such as this one.” Ignoring the allusion to this not being the first time they had kidnapped someone from an elderly home, Richard continued. “One of them, a Japanese man named Hironima Takake, will be able to put you in a trance-like state that emulates death to the point where only close examination will be able to discern that you are alive. He hasn't shared the specifics with me, but I assure you; it has worked before.”
Jack, not at all assured by the lawyer's explanation, but figuring that he had very little to lose, kept listening. After all, he could see where this was going. They needed to have this talk, though. The lawyer continued talking.
“My other associate, Felipe Rodriguez, will then be able to convince our nurse friend outside...”, he nodded at the door, “...that you're in need for immediate care at the local hospital and keep her from asking questions.”
At this, Jack simply shook his head.
“Why all this nonsense? Couldn't you just tell her you're taking me away for a job?”
Richard, smiling, responded the same way.
“Two things, Jack. First off, Crystalfound's activities are strictly off the record. We can't have anything trace back to us, not a single trail. Still, we need the people; people like yourself. Therefore, we have to wipe the slate clean, so to say. If you're dead, people are less likely to go looking for you. I know two of your children are still alive; we can't have them running around and trying to find you.”
Jack could only smile, but Richard's words still stung a little. Reminded him of something he thought he'd buried a long, long time ago.
“Clearly, Mr. Norgrass, you have never met my children. They'll be more than happy to get rid of me, I speak the truth.” [i]Rebecca's an entirely different story, though.[/i]
The lawyer nodded. Jack couldn't see any clear emotions in his face – only stress. Clearly, he didn't want to spend more time there than he had to; a feeling Jack could relate to completely, if not share.
“That's true, I don't know your children. Regardless, we can't have any holes, or there'll be more questions coming our way – questions that we can't answer right now.”
Jack opened his mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted by Richard.
“I know you have more questions, Jack, but this is all I can tell you outside the premises. Are you ready?”
Jack closed his eyes.
“What's the second thing, Mr. Norgrass? You said there were two things that stopped you from going the easy route.”
Richard smiled.
“The second reason is this, Jack, and don't take this the wrong way: it is much, much more fun.”

As it turned out, Richard Norgrass' definition of “fun” was highly subjective. Jack didn't particularly enjoy hearing Richard feign innocence when this unnecessarily complicated plan was clearly his creation, or young Veronica being brainwashed by Rodriguez, or being thrown around the premises on the scrawny bed by people who obviously never had any medical training. However, once the Latino had told him to Sleep for a while, to let things cool off, he had drifted off into the sweet nothings that were his dreams.

Now, he was wide awake in the back of the moving ambulance, his bed banging from side to side with every slight turn. Clearly, they hadn't thought of locking the wheels in place, either. Jack sighed. [i]I wish I could sue these people.[/i] At the sound of his rapid and disappointed exhale, two pairs of eyes – one wide open, one slightly slanted – looked at him. The Japanese man on his right nodded, and spoke with a near-flawless American accent.
“It looks like our man's awake, Rick.”
Richard Norgrass, only momentarily taking his eyes from Jack, smiled.
“Since when do you call me Rick?”
The Japanese only shook his head. Richard returned his gaze to Jack.
“I hope you slept well, Jack. Crystalfound is less than fifteen minutes away.”
Jack shook his head, and sat up. The bed started to wobble, which didn't exactly help with his headache.
“Good, that means we're getting off here soon.”
He climbed out of the bed, only to realize that he was still in the slightly embarrassing gown they had given him at the home. There hadn't been time to change, of course; his clothes were still in their drawers. He hadn't even gone out of bed that day, as a matter of fact. He sighed, and went back into bed. Richard nodded.
“There'll be a change of clothes for you when we get to the Corporation. Now, try to relax.”
Jack grunted.
“Fine. Just lock the wheels, will-”
Before he could finish the sentence, he cried out in pain as an explosion filled his head and he passed out.

In the front compartment of the ambulance, Rodriguez was looking nervously from side to side. While they were driving pretty fast, far above the speed limit as a matter of fact, he wasn't worried about getting caught for that. The fact that they were driving an ambulance definitely helped, and if it came down to that, he could always talk his way out of getting a ticket. He kept telling himself that it was because he didn't want to miss the exit he needed to take, even though he had driven down that particular exit many times in the past six or seven months, and the GPS they'd bought would blare away at him every few minutes or so. No, the one thing on his mind was Veronica Wildwood.

The last time he had seen her was at Becky's funeral, six years ago. ([i]She was, what, fourteen back then?[/i]) Their families were good friends at the time, with him and Becky practically growing up together. His father, now living somewhere out in California, still talked with them on the phone every now and then, scheduling around their different jobs and the three-hour time difference to make it work. Rodriguez asking Becky out to the prom only seemed natural, the way it should be. Becky had died that night. It hadn't been his fault, the accident was just that, an accident, but nonetheless he could feel their hatred against him, their hatred and their sorrow fueling a greater darkness inside them. While he did feel responsible, he wanted to stop that darkness before it could grow. That was when his ability first manifested.

The words had come to him without warning nor hesitation: [i]You never knew me.[/i] Spoken in casual conversation to Becky's father after the service, they seemed to freeze his mind for a few seconds, which he spent casually staring out into empty space. As his head cleared, he looked at Rodriguez again.
“Oh, hello. You're Diego's son, aren't you? I don't think we've actually met.”
And, as simple as that, the darkness was gone. He didn't know how it happened, but somehow he had forgotten him. Rodriguez welcomed that, then, and spread this new story to everyone directly involved. The simple hook he had given had reeled in an entire life story: apparently, Mr. Wildwood had taken a five-week trip to Washington D.C. in late high school, and had become friends with his father that way. There was no connection at all between the children. After some hesitation, he had decided not to give his father the new story. Instead, he'd told him everything; starting with what had really happened at the prom (some things he hadn't even shared with the cops) and ending with this new chance he'd been given. At first, his father didn't seem to take it well, but as soon as he mentioned the darkness, that terrible, murderous darkness, the older Rodriguez lit up. As his son had finished, the father put his hand on his son's shoulder.
“I understand, son.”

After that, they had done their best to keep the new story enforced. The funeral had proved to be the perfect situation to present the new story to the family – a speckle of light in this awful, tragical tale – and so, the Wildwoods soon forgot that Felipe Rodriguez had ever been a part of their lives. He had stayed out of touch with them... until now. He'd had no idea that Veronica worked at the place. He suspected that Mr. Leander knew – Mr. Leander had a way of knowing things that was most unnerving at times – and for some reason had chosen not to tell him.
[i]Then again[/i], he thought, [i]would I have gone on this mission if I'd known?[/i]
He supposed he would. If not, what choice did he have? He'd never turned down a mission before. He certainly wasn't going to start now.
“[i][font=Courier New]Turn to the right on [Freeway Exit] in one point six miles.[/font][/i]”

Across from Richard, Hironima Takake simply smiled.
“I thought that would shut him up.”
Richard looked up, slightly abashed.
“What the hell, Hironima? I thought you said you wouldn't hurt him!”
The Japanese shrugged.
“He was annoying me. Always complaining and asking these stupid questions. He should be thankful, you know. If it weren't for us, he'd be rotting away on his death-bed now.”
Richard, his instincts as quick as ever, leaned over to check Jack's pulse. Slightly above average, but manageable, as far as he could tell. Now that the situation was slightly more stable, he turned his full attention to Takake.
“I don't care if he's shoving his foot down your throat! Leander wants him alive and well when we get to the Corporation. If you don't want [b]your[/b] head on the chopping block, you [i]make sure[/i] he stays that way until we get there.”
Hironima was quiet for a few seconds. Then, he shrugged.
“Fine, we'll do this your way for now, Richard. But if Damon, or Harold, or anyone else at the facility blows their own brains out just from listening to this guy's constant whining, don't come around and blame me, alright?”
As to further augment his point, Jack groaned. Richard, looking down at the old man and wondered, for the first time (but certainly not the last, oh no), if they were doing the right thing. If this frail, cynical old man was really who they needed to complete the circle. Not waiting for a response, Hironima shook his head.
“Very convincing acting in there, by the way.”
Richard stared back at him. He and the Japanese man had never gotten along well, not since Richard first started working at Crystalfound. He was always agitating someone, or throwing himself head-first into any argument he could find. In the back of his head, Richard thought it far more likely that Takake would be the one to make someone put a gun to their head, just to get rid of him. Still, he forced himself to keep cool. They couldn't afford another fight in the back of a moving vehicle; it didn't go well the first time, and it certainly wouldn't go any better now.
“Thank you. I wish I could say the same. I see why they put Rodriguez with you now.”
Still, a little backlash certainly couldn't hurt. Rodriguez, currently driving the ambulance, was one of their newest recruits. Takake, on the other hand, had been “in the program” for at least twenty years, longer than most other people. Perhaps only shorter than Leander himself. Needless to say, the latter was not happy with Leander's decision. More than once, Richard had overheard the Japanese man say something along the lines of “I thought he respected me more than that.” The word “friends” appeared more than once, something Richard thought the man was entirely incapable of. The Asian frowned.
“Whatev[i]eh[/i], Richard. You know that we need him for this to work at all. Someone has to keep him in check.”
Richard nodded. While it wasn't exactly true (most of their “fetch quests”, as one of their younger interns called it, had been done before Rodriguez even joined them) their work was so much easier with someone who could convince people as Rodriguez could. The young man had a gift, a talent as all of them had but unlike anything Richard had seen; he could tamper with memories, as if the past was some sort of a written record that he could alter as he pleased. Not to mention that he could think on his feet, an invaluable ability when it came to their line of work. Combined, the two traits made Rodriguez an asset they couldn't afford to lose. Looking over at his companion, Richard wasn't sure he could say the same about the Asian. He was full aware of Takake Hironima's power – the ability to manipulate sound to an almost unimaginable extent – but other than being one of them, how useful was he? Was it just because of his seniority that they kept him out here? That no one else was as capable as him when it came to taking care of the recruitment? Or was it, as Richard could fully understand, because Leander couldn't stand him either? He suspected he'd never know. It wasn't the kind of thing you'd ask about, was it? Richard simply shook his head, and placed his right hand on Jack's forehead. The old man was still unsettled, not to mention unconscious, but he'd be alright in time... with a little help from his friends. Richard heard Takake mutter something under his breath as he drew upon the vast depths of his mind, and with little effort sent a thought into the discord that was Jack's mind. As a ripple in a pond after a pebble has been tossed into the water, it soon started to calm down. The younger man nodded. He would want to be presentable when they came to Crystalfound.

They were meeting with the boss, after all.[/spoiler]

[Bahamut - Envoy of the End]

That was pretty cool mate, nice work as always.

Really detailed and dramatic.

So this just a redo of the original 9 chapter short (which I never read, obviously)?

Sorry I haven't read or commented on Dark Doorway is ages.

[Umbra]

The story as a whole would be, yes. This chapter right here is a rework of the first chapter, with some major changes. Hironima and Rodriguez will feature more prominently in this incarnation of the work.

That reminds me, there's something I need to add in. Read again in a few minutes.

Apology accepted. Sorry I haven't commented on Armageddon, I'll try to get back in touch with it. I really haven't read much of the third arc due to vacationing, but I'll get on it.

[Bahamut - Envoy of the End]

No worries, I'll get back on Dark Doorway when I have some more time off. Seem to be having some problems with my lifestyle all of a sudden now I'm doing full time night shifts, like sleeping trouble and finding social time. Sucks.

Oh yeah, stupid question probably, but Richard... Norgrass? Not Morae?

[Vector Nightmare]

*insert TMG trollface here*

YYYYYYYYYYYEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH.

Been REALLY looking forward to this. IotW was the first story I ever really read in here. I don't remember many details, but it impacted me greatly.

The rewrite seems even more promising. I imagine that, with retrospect, you are / will be able to tie in everything much better than originally. First chapter is already maaaaaajor mindscrew, leaves the potential for much more. The retro feeling is amazing.

I hope you continue this, though you'll probably want to stick with LotT sequel more closely. I'll catch up on that, too, when I get some time.

[Umbra]

Norgrass was Richard's last name before his marriage. After his supposed death (DUN DUN DUUN), he switched back to avoid connections being made.

I'm glad you like it so far. Some changes had to be made: I'm not sure what I was thinking with putting Jack in a cave of all things, so the retirement home felt natural. Others were more voluntary, now that I actually have a defined character gallery to work with. I never did expand on Rodriguez' ability in the original, and giving him essentially the ability to retcon, 1984-style, could be very interesting further down the road. As you said, major mindscrew on the way, especially taking into account Jack's ability once it develops a little. I definitely look forward to portraying Xon; the Beast never got much attention, seeing as he only appeared in the (last? second to last? I'm not sure.) chapter or so. For being a major villain, he deserves more credit than that.

However, The Dark Doorway will take priority, for now. Once the Adoración arc is over - not too far down the road - I'll bring more attention to this story. There'll be new chapters depending on which story comes more naturally, but I'll focus on TDD for now.

[Umbra]

Chapter Two, indeed titled The Long Ride, has been posted.

Attention will now turn to Chapter Fourteen of The Dark Doorway, unnamed as of now.

[Bahamut - Envoy of the End]

Throughly engrossing second chapter.

I do love how subtle yet powerful Filipe's power is, to be something like a hypnotist.

Power struggles between villians are always fun to watch, and this has been done very well.

Will get back onto DDway later (5 days off soon, woo)

[Umbra]

Felipe's power is one of the best tools I've ever given myself as a writer: I absolutely love the way it works out in the story, (and stor[b]ies[/b], as it turns out; Felipe's influence has reached into the Dark Doorway as well, altering the past as he sees fit) and the power it gives me without me feeling like I'm going too far.

Villains? What villains... oh. Funny that you should call them villains. Takake's quite a bastard, but I wouldn't go as far as calling him a villain... not yet, at least.