Martin scoffed. "That's just another excuse. You're a wizard and an alchemist. Don't tell me you can't make yourself disappear if you really want to.
Afraid he'll find you? Ever heard of the Scarlet Loyalty Curse? That could hide you completely. But the truth is, you don't want to give up your comfortable life.
You hate the idea of being controlled, but you're too scared to let go of what you've got. Now you want to drag me down with you? Hmph."
Martin's tone was harsher than before, though clearly more honest around this old friend than he'd ever be with strangers. His words were laced with thorns, his disbelief cutting deep.
"Maybe you're right," Sebastian admitted, surprisingly candid. "Maybe I have gotten too used to the good life. But the risk of running is just too high.
I'm not young anymore, I can't handle spending the rest of my life hiding in the shadows. If it comes to that, then what's the difference between running away and drinking the elixir? Either way, you lose yourself."
"Then stop trying to pull me in," Martin shot back. "You and I both know what the Horned Basilisk is capable of. The five of you couldn't beat him before. What makes you think this time will be different?"
Sebastian rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid enough to face him head-on. My plan is to catch him during his transformation.
Every time he sheds his skin, there's a brief window when his power is weakest. If we can figure out who he really is and track the timing, killing him would be easy, at least, easier."
Martin raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You really think it's that simple? He's a monster that's lived for centuries. You think someone like that will just leave his tail out for you to grab?"
Sebastian smiled faintly, but there was a tiredness behind it. "That's why I came to you. You used to brag about your divination skills all the time. Can't you help me just this once?"
His voice had softened, the usual calm breaking into something more fragile, like a man realizing he was running out of options.
"The Horned Basilisk's been pushing me to take the elixir. He's suspicious, I can feel it.
But I just... I can't do it. I can't give up who I am for immortality. I don't want to become one of those lunatics."
He looked up, the lines on his face deeper than Martin remembered. "You remember how respected Gerald Stevens used to be, back when we were still with the Saints? Treated us like students, even friends.
But now? Ever since he became 'Thunderbird,' he's obsessed with gain and loss, twisted by hatred for Grindelwald. He's not the same. Honestly, I'm afraid. One day, I think he really might march into Nurmengard and tear it down himself."
Sebastian couldn't hide his frustration as he turned to Martin, a hint of melancholy clouding his expression.
"You already know I've been bluffing, right? That so-called prophecy of mine, honestly, it can't even tell me if it's going to rain tomorrow. How can anyone count on that?"
Martin shot him a sharp look, but seeing Sebastian's face weighed down by helplessness, he sighed and gave in.
"I really don't know what to do with you. Most of the old Saints in the Silver Wand have turned into fanatics.
They already think you're too conservative and barely tolerate you. If they see me with you, someone they label a traitor, they'll probably kill me on the spot."
Sebastian smiled bitterly but said nothing.
Martin hesitated, then asked, "Have you ever thought of finding allies inside the club? You were comrades-in-arms once. Maybe some of them are still willing to work with you."
"I've thought about it," Sebastian muttered, shaking his head. "But these days, the club's filled with two kinds of people, radicals and those who've already taken the elixir. And you can't trust anyone who's taken that cursed potion."
He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "Among all the active members, only the The Horned Serpent still seems reliable. But his position is awkward, he's kept far from headquarters and can't get close enough to do anything.
The rest are just clueless newbie who don't even know what's going on. I tried once. Trained a small infiltration team, hoping to spy on the headquarters and keep an eye on Horned Basilisk… but they were wiped out in the UK. It was a total disaster."
Sebastian slumped in his seat, the weight of it all clearly pressing on him. Recently, the leader had issued an ultimatum, either drink the elixir or leave. He had obtained the potion, yes, but never touched a drop.
Still, Horned Basilisk, ever paranoid, had somehow figured out Sebastian hadn't taken it and kept pushing him. For now, Sebastian used the excuse of still being young, claiming there was no rush.
But the truth was, the leader kept close tabs on him. To them, Sebastian, codename Sphinx, was a model worker, a valuable asset.
That only meant more scrutiny. And time was working against him. His body was aging.
He could feel it in his bones. His resistance to the elixir's call was weakening. A few more years, maybe ten at best, and he might really give in. A slave to the potion, like so many others.
He let out a long sigh. "What am I even supposed to do anymore?"
"Cold salad…" The odd voice drifted into the room like a ripple in calm water. Both men froze.
Martin and Sebastian shot to their feet, their bodies tense, eyes darting toward the sound.
A figure stepped forward from the shadows. "Gerald?" Sebastian's voice trembled with disbelief.
Even though it had been decades since he'd last seen the real Thunderbird, he still remembered the face of Gerald, the Silver Wand's once-legendary dueling master.
Martin's reaction was even quicker. The moment he registered the familiar face, his hand darted toward his wand. But he froze mid-motion, paralyzed under the pressure of a chilling gaze.
That face... That look. Gerald had once been their instructor. The memory alone was enough to lock Martin in place, unable to summon the courage to even draw his wand.
He tried to apparate out, but nothing happened. A grim look crossed his face. "Even Apparition's blocked?" he muttered under his breath.
Clearly, whoever this person was, they'd come prepared.
"Relax," Alex said with a smirk, watching the two of them squirm. "What's with the fear? I'm not a monster."
He could hardly keep from laughing. They were terrified of him, well, of Gerald's face, at least.
Deciding it was best not to blow his cover, Alex smoothly slipped into character. From this moment on, he would play the role of Thunderbird.
"What do you want?" Sebastian's tone turned cold as he glared at the figure in front of them. "Are you planning to attack us? We won't go down without a fight!"