The mention of Grindelwald wiped the smirk right off Martin's face. His eyes darkened.
He, like Sebastian, had once been one of the younger saints, those who joined the movement in its twilight years, inspired by the remnants of Grindelwald's dream. Back then, they were filled with passion, ambition, and raw magical talent. Gerald had been their mentor, guiding them.
But before any of them could prove themselves, Grindelwald fell, captured and imprisoned. For the latecomers like Martin, it felt like their entire belief system had crumbled overnight. Their supposed revolution turned to dust.
Since then, Martin had drifted. He gave up on ambition and clung to a life of comfort and safety. That was why he reacted so coldly when Sebastian had tried recruiting him again. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to feel again.
And now, with Gerald bringing up Grindelwald, and those old memories, it stirred something unpleasant in him. Something he didn't want to deal with.
Watching Martin squirm, Gerald curled his lip in disgust. "Think it over. I don't care what choice you make in the end, but I refuse to keep letting the 'Horned Basilisk' leash me like some beast. I won't sit back while the people we once fought alongside become husks."
He took a deep breath, voice low and grim. "That damned elixir… It's twisted everyone who's taken it. Even me. But I finally woke up. I realized, I'd rather die free than keep living like this."
His voice hardened. "I can't accept it. The elixir gave me a young man's body, but it stole the fire that youth is supposed to bring. Now that I've reclaimed that fire... let this body turn to ash if it has to."
Alex, still keeping up the Thunderbird persona, delivered the speech in a weighty, almost theatrical tone, many of the words drawn directly from Thunderbird himself. It was only after his defeat that the real man had come to his senses. And now Alex was carrying that message forward.
"So?" Martin asked, reluctant but no longer sneering. "What's your plan?"
Sebastian, on the other hand, had already made up his mind. After everything he'd seen in the organization, all the comrades who changed beyond recognition, he couldn't stay in the shadows any longer.
As an alchemist, his nature was to think rationally. That was the only reason he'd resisted the lure of the elixir for so long.
But he was still human. He couldn't promise he'd stay strong forever. If he didn't act now, he might never act at all.
"Find him. Kill him. That's the plan," Gerald said coldly, his voice sharp like a drawn blade.
Sebastian stared at him, exasperated. "That's your whole plan? Brilliant. Really." He shook his head.
"You've always been this reckless. You still think like a duelist, not a scholar. Strategy doesn't exist in that brain of yours, does it?"
"I'll take care of the dirty work," Gerald replied, unfazed. "And I've got another partner lined up. What I need from you is simple: give me the design and production schematics for the masks, every alchemy blueprint you submitted to headquarters, the layout of the central alchemy circle... and the Walking Charm spell."
He said it without a hint of hesitation. This time, it wasn't just a rebellion. It was a war plan.
Gerald was straightforward. Even though Alex had mostly cracked the enchantments on the mask, it didn't mean he could fully replicate it. Tian's craftsmanship was still highly advanced, precise and layered in a way that even seasoned alchemists would struggle to match.
The plan now was for Gerald to infiltrate the club disguised as a Silver Wand operative. If he could get his hands on the full set of blueprints and fabrication methods, it wouldn't just deepen his understanding, it would make future reverse-engineering and modifications far easier. Having access to the original designs would be invaluable.
What's more, Sebastian had played a role in constructing the headquarters' alchemy circle. With those schematics, Gerald could potentially bypass the internal protections and monitor the building from the inside without triggering any alerts.
"Why do you need so many alchemy diagrams?" Sebastian asked, a trace of suspicion in his voice. "You're not an alchemist. And about that collaborator you mentioned, who is it? Can we even trust them?"
"Don't worry. He's trustworthy," Gerald said with a slight smile. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to open the door a crack for Sebastian to learn the truth. "You remember Alex, don't you?"
"The young alchemist you said you killed?" Sebastian blinked in confusion, clearly caught off guard by the sudden mention of the name.
"I never killed him. Or more accurately, I couldn't kill him," Gerald admitted.
"In fact, I ended up working with him. He's strong. As strong as me, maybe even more dangerous. If anything happens to me, he's someone you can rely on."
Sebastian stared at him like he'd just lost his mind. "That kid? Are you being serious right now?"
"I'm not joking," Gerald replied calmly.
"We're not exactly friends, he doesn't know much about your situation, but he and I have been planning to take down the Horned Basilisk for the past few days. And I'm telling you, he can be trusted."
Sebastian didn't know how to respond. The idea of Gerald teaming up with a boy who'd barely made a ripple on the surface not long ago was absurd. And yet... Gerald didn't joke about things like this. And despite his doubts, Sebastian trusted the man in front of him.
Even if he couldn't wrap his head around the situation, he knew Gerald wouldn't say all this without good reason. Reluctantly, and still full of questions, Sebastian pulled a thick folder from inside his robes and handed it over.
"Here. Everything I've got." His voice was tinged with regret. If I'd known this earlier, I would've invested in Alex's little venture back at the market. I thought it was a one-time encounter… What a missed opportunity.
Gerald took the documents without a word, flipping through them briefly before turning serious again.
"How does the Horned Basilisk usually contact you?" he asked, his voice low. "Does he use the mask? Or something else?"
Sebastian tensed at the question, knowing full well what it meant. Gerald wasn't just talking anymore, he was ready to act. He answered without delay.
"You know what he's like. Paranoid to the bone. He doesn't trust anyone, not even the club's standard-issue masks. He's probably always suspected I'd tamper with it.
So, he rarely contacts me through the usual channels. Most of the time, it's the 'Golden Snidget', sometimes through a specialized mask, other times by letter.
But none of it's traceable. There's no way for me to pinpoint his location through any of it."
Gerald frowned, but didn't speak. The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of what lay ahead. There was no turning back now.
Sebastian didn't bother to beat around the bush. He was straightforward with Gerald, getting straight to the point.
And that was exactly what Gerald had expected. "So, the 'Golden Snidget' is the key," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Looks like we'll need to start with him."