In the right hands, even the most ordinary kitchen utensils can become weapons. Take, for example, the long knives he took from his home and enchanted. Sharp as razors, covered with small runes of the Inquisitors, they were transformed into deadly weapons of the Night Blade. All that remained was to test their effectiveness on a live target, but there were no renegades in the city or its surroundings. So while Brinel scouted the city and its surroundings to learn the movement patterns of the fallen angels, he also tested his own stealth skills, which could rust without frequent use.
"Ddraig, you said that sadness over a fictional character is the height of stupidity. Even when I gave you arguments in favour of their existence somewhere in the infinity of worlds," the mage decided to find out the exact reason for the dragon's gloom as he walked through the streets of the city and looked at them through the dark lenses of his glasses.
"Yes, but Himeko! That's different!"
"I can try to create a transfer circle to that reality and time before these events, but the chance of success is only nine percent."
"No, no, forget it. I'm just a little upset about those Huvers."
Castor shrugged, not believing the lizard's words, and continued on his way through the stone jungle, but... Just a couple of metres further on, his gaze caught on the long hair of a blonde woman. Judging by her clothes, she was a nun, and a Catholic one at that. She looked around lost, standing away from the bustling crowd, not knowing what to do. Her green eyes, like two emeralds, sought help, but the Japanese are a busy people, and they don't treat "gaijin" the way tourists would like them to. So there was no help... None...
One step, then another, and Brinel made his way purposefully through the crowd towards the nun, causing the dragon inside him to whistle in surprise.
"Partner, are you okay?" asked Ddraig, but received no answer. The mage silently skirted around the people, getting closer and closer. It was strange... A very strange feeling was leading him to this blonde woman with green eyes and an innocent look, to help her with her problem... Regret. A long-standing and very deep regret that had settled in that piece of ice that people call the heart.
***
"Hey, big brother, you'll protect your little sister from the scary world, won't you?" Her voice was filled with cheerfulness and malice.
"You're older than me!" his voice was filled with indignation and discontent.
"But I'm a girl and you're a boy! That means you have to protect me because I'm weak," she ruffled his hair, which he didn't like.
"If you need protection, the world is doomed..." he muttered, receiving an indignant look in response.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that there is no one stronger or smarter than you," he admitted honestly, smiling.
"Oh!" he protested and hissed when his sister hugged him tightly. But inside... He was just glad she was there.
***
"Um... Excuse me.
Castor blinked, emerging from his childhood memories. That carefree era when he could go about his usual business, spend time with his family and... Just live.
"I can see you need help, judging by your lost look," the girl said, surprisingly speaking Italian. Yes, that was sarcasm. Everything about her screamed Italian. But not to him. To him...
"Ah!" The blonde beamed and folded her hands together, setting her suitcase on the ground. "God bless you for arriving just in time!"
"Don't put your trust in the gods who sit on their thrones, but become the architect of your own destiny," but Castor remained silent, deciding not to disturb the faithful soul. She didn't deserve his poisonous sarcasm and disappointment.
"I'm so glad you speak Italian! Are you from Italy?" The blonde woman was bursting with joie de vivre, which made Brinel's smile even sadder, but he hid it, pushing the sadness away.
"I'm a polyglot. I study different languages and try to speak them so I don't lose my skills.
"May God bless you on your journey!" The mage allowed himself a warmer smile. If there had been any demons around, they would have shrunk to the size of lemons from the headache caused by the mention of God.
"So what kind of help do you need?"
"Oh, oh!" The girl blushed with embarrassment and looked away. "I'm lost."
"Where do you need to go? I can take you there, and also show you around the city.
"Really?! That would be very kind of you, thank you!" The blonde smiled, then squeaked. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot! My name is Asya Argen.
"I... — he closed his eyes for a moment, clearing the image from his mind. — Brinel. Castor Brinel.
***
Reynal tried not to stand out. No, not even breathe! Because she was sitting next to a creature that could vaporise her on the spot with a single glance and not even lift a finger to do it! Her eyes were fixed on the person slowly eating the biscuits (bought by the fallen one just half an hour ago) and poking Castor's cheek with her finger, who was silently staring at a spot on the floor and not moving.
"The office... The fucking office!"
She had never seen the Dragon of Infinity in person, only heard rumours about its appearance from high-ranking associates of Kokabiel, who had encountered it. Until one day... On a mission, the fallen angel saw a little girl literally vaporise part of the area... Why? A question with no answer. From that day on, the woman felt the creature's aura strongly... And what's more, it likes to appear unexpectedly, watch, and then disappear. And how happy Reina would be! Honestly! But God wants something from Brinel...
"I was thinking that I made the wrong choice, but now it seems like I did everything right..."
"What's wrong with him? Castor doesn't behave like that," her dark eyes focused on Reynal, causing her to flinch and almost fall off her chair. Words cannot describe the horror she felt when she realised that Office was looking directly at her.
"I-I don't know. He came in, sat down, and is just sitting there," the fallen angel managed to pull herself together and calm down. If Office wanted to kill her, he would have done so long ago. So the fallen angel resigned herself to her fate. What else could she do? Why tremble for no reason? Kokabiel had taught them to tremble only when he was angry. Moreover, the god in the form of a little girl was eating cookies and poking Brinel, who was slowly rubbing his thumb against his index finger and thinking about something.
"Tell me, Reynal," the mage said, and the fallen woman shuddered slightly. It was as if a statue had come to life.
"Yes?" The woman perked up. Castor inspired much more confidence than the dragon sitting next to him.
"Asya Argen. What plans does your former employer have for her?" The young man's gaze, unobstructed by glasses, practically said that lying was not an option. Reynal only grunted in response. She had no intention of lying. Not when the mage had an entire Infinity Dragon in his arsenal.
"And 'former' boss? So he doesn't consider me one?" The woman smiled inwardly. How strange. Castor was the epitome of strangeness and abnormality.
"To extract the Mechanism and use its ability to heal most wounds on any creature," the fallen woman said bluntly. Brinel lost his smile and twirled a kitchen knife in his hands. Although, knowing its properties, it could hardly be called a kitchen knife.
"And I saw nothing but a 'wheel'. Is this mage really that powerful?!"
"Tomorrow night, I will destroy their base along with anyone who stands in my way.
"And then you'll help me with Red?"
"No. And you broke into my house again without permission.
"Do you need it?"
"Yes.
"Some kind of mental hospital... And now I live in it," the woman's cheek twitched at the realisation. Life had gone downhill, but was that such a bad thing?
***
He lied. The mage had no intention of postponing the clean-up for so long, so that same night he went to the abandoned church. Asya... She was once called a saint for her ability to heal almost any physical wound or illness. Then she was called a witch and expelled from the church because the stranger she healed turned out to be a demon. Religion and its double standards in all their glory. Obey, don't think, don't ask questions, listen to the holy fathers.
A simple, honest soul. Argenzo told him her story when they saw a boy with a damaged knee on the way. The nun quickly healed him with her Mechanism and told him why she had come here. Yes, she also knew about the fallen, but not all of them were bad, were they? Yes... Naive. Yes, kind. But it was precisely these qualities that Castor had not seen in his life for a long time. The most ordinary good-natured and altruistic people. They were the first to die in the fires of the Dark Dawn. And those who survived became something else. Spiteful and enraged.
"Asya is a copy of your deceased sister, isn't she?" Ddraig asked calmly, without any reproach. Castor frowned slightly, looking at the church as he stood on a tree branch. It wouldn't be difficult to get inside, just like walking through the shadows, but the question was: where was Asya?
"Yes. If she really were my younger sister, she would look like that."
"They say that projecting your feelings onto another person is a disease."
Brinel only grunted in response. He knew it was wrong, and he also knew that Argena only looked like his sister on the outside, but... By saving her, he would at least partially atone for his terrible sin. And he would also save such a rare soul.
"So what sin did you commit?"
"The worst sin. I left. And this is my small chance for at least partial redemption."
And that was the worst mistake of his life. He would have been better off dying then, freeing himself from torment forever, but he chose the path of suffering, sin and unforgiveness. But that path allowed him to end up here... No, it's not worth it.
"Silence is eternal..." Castor exhaled discontentedly, hiding his body in the bushes under the broken stained-glass window of the church. There were guards around the building... Few and far between. He had caught only one man, armed with a pistol and some kind of cylinder. He would study it later.
"Death is a logical end.
Brinel neatly killed the second patrolman, quickly ending his life with a knife blow. No force fields, spells, or even armour. Just robes and confidence in his own strength. That meant the hunt would be... easy.
"Somehow I've gotten used to enemies who can kill you with a glance..."
***
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