"Something wrong, Claus?" the old Winston asked, noticing the confusion on Claus's face.
"I—this is my first mission. I'm just a bit nervous."
"There's no reason to be. The mission is simple: infiltrate the ship where the sale takes place. Don't worry, your names are already registered. Once onboard, make contact with Alfred Blakroks."
"Alfred Blakroks… the nephew of the patriarch of the Blakroks family," Claus replied.
"Exactly. Win his favor, and he'll lead us to what we must recover," Winston continued.
"May I know what that is?" Elizabeth asked.
Winston waved, and Leia stood to explain.
"We're retrieving the wings of Archangel Aria. This artifact can heal anyone within its proximity. From what I've learned, Alfred Blakroks suffered from an incurable illness that even the best potions could only relieve temporarily. Word is he scoured the Empire searching for this artifact. After three months of absence, he reappeared in perfect health… and he's hiding something on his estate."
"Do we have proof justifying this mission?" Claus asked. He didn't want to risk his life on mere suppositions. Even in this new world, he remained the greatest exorcist mage.
"Of course… I've never seen it with my own eyes, but—"
"Thanks, I'll take it from here," Winston cut in.
"Boy, we aren't children playing vigilantes. Artifacts are fascinating but dangerous. Your lives… they are precious."
Claus looked at Elizabeth. She remained calm and confident. He nodded to Winston to show he understood.
"Claus, as a newcomer, know that on our missions, it's recommended not to use our powers—except in extreme emergencies or if an enemy initiates first."
"All right, I understand," Claus said.
"Good. Then Gordon will oversee the operation. The sale takes place tomorrow at two in the morning. You will be undercover as Frey and Ellena Braus, a wealthy couple from the merchant city. All guests will wear masks. Any questions?"
"How will the wings be extracted?" Claus asked.
"Overland. Gordon will be your driver. He'll await you under the Massacre Bridge."
"And the police or other law enforcers?" Elizabeth asked.
"Avoid being arrested, and minimize casualties. I think we're done, Williams."
"Very well. You know your roles. Keep this in mind: artifacts are not to be taken lightly. Each blessing can bring calamity. We classify them into four tiers: yellow — the weakest, easy to handle; orange; red — dangerous, powerful, and containing forgotten knowledge; and finally black — mythological artifacts never seen by mortals."
Claus listened carefully. Every detail mattered—not only for the mission but for his personal goal: understand this world, gather knowledge and power to find Elizabeth.
"What we do is considered rebellion, heresy against the Empire and the Church. We preserve peace, protect the weak. We sacrifice ourselves so the world may survive. We have no name, no life."
These words echoed in Claus's mind hours after the meeting. In his hotel room, he pondered them.
"To sacrifice… is that truly the right thing to do for someone you love?
To die for an ideal, or to live with purpose?"
Claus thought of his past life. His love for Sandra shone like the moon he so often stared at. Was that enough to sacrifice himself? The world never gives for free. Saving a soul demands a price greater than your own. He didn't know all the world's laws yet, but one thing was certain: the universe always demands great sacrifices.
"To live or die, to sacrifice or advance?"
That was the question haunting him.
John… you would have known what to do. Which choice to make. Am I lost?
Night was long for Claus—a sleepless night, staring at the moon until it vanished from the sky.
Knock knock knock
"Claus, we need to go to the tailor for our outfits."
Elizabeth's voice came through the doorway, bathed in early sunlight. Claus sat facing the window in an armchair.
"I'm coming…"
Fatigue crept into his voice. A night spent mulling over the meaning of "sacrifice." An empty word in his eyes. But emptiness… emptiness holds more meaning than anything, because it can be filled with anything.
After a brief meeting with Winston in a small country restaurant, Claus and Elizabeth went to the tailor to collect their eveningwear.
By midnight, Claus and Elizabeth were ready. A car waited in front of the hotel. It drove them to the port of Archangel Uceanos. The place was lively and illuminated. Dozens of cars were parked nearby. Guests queued before a massive ship, presenting their white invitation letters to giant guards. Servers passed with trays, offering refreshments.
Wealthy guests and notable figures held black invitations. Claus and Elizabeth presented theirs—deep black.
"Mr. and Mrs. Braus, you may proceed," said a guard dressed in black.
"Thank you, kind sir," Elizabeth replied.
Now Mrs. Ellena Braus, she wore an elegant black gown, stood tall on matching heels, a red handbag in hand. Her hair was perfectly styled, strands falling over her red masquerade mask, highlighting her piercing eyes.
By her side, Claus wore a black three-piece suit, red tie, scarlet scarf draped across his shoulders. His shoes gleamed. A red cross band covered his eyes. He held the cane his mother had given him.
He stood on the ship's foredeck, waiting for their target. Tonight marked the beginning of his first mission.