Sometime later, the man in the tailored suit and Italian leather gloves sits at an open restaurant. On the table next to him an old man with a cane takes a seat. With their backs to each other, the handsome dark-haired man takes a sip from his dark coffee. “Well, does the boy fulfill your requirements?” The dark-haired man asked.

The old man without glancing back narrows his eyes. “Yes, he is an exceptional talent the likes the world has ever seen. He’s perfect for our uses and best of all, he is the perfect shield. Even Atlas Starr will hesitant to touch his own child,” Master Ferguson croaked.

A charming smile appears on the man’s face. “Interesting. Then why handicap the twin sister, she had as much potential as he did. There wasn’t much of a difference in their abilities,” The dark-haired man commented, before casually taking another sip of his dark coffee.

“The female child will pose a danger to the council, it was foreseen. The council voted and decided that it would be better to entirely avoid the counter, and therefore the problem was nipped in the bud before it even began” Master Ferguson answered.

The dark-haired man chuckles, “Is that so? But all I see is actions that resemble those of King Lauis of legends. But I wonder if the council has truly escaped the hands of fate? But I suppose only time will tell.” The dark-haired man places his cup down with a soft chink on the porcelain cup saucer. “However, had it been me, I would never have been so weak. I would have killed the child myself and ensured that fate never occurred. What is a little blood spilled in the face of a sheer guaranteed future?” The dark-haired man commented.

Master Ferguson narrows his eyes and sarcastically replies, “Oh, forgive me, I had not thought of that.” Master Ferguson snorts to himself and grumbles, “We both know that would have only served to attract Atlas Starr’s full wrath. And we cannot afford to make our move yet.”

“Yes, yes. Now, if that is all, let us end our brief but most profitable partnership,” the dark-haired murmured as he glanced back down at his newspaper.

“Oh, I find it strange that you are pleased given your recent demotion,” Master Ferguson spitefully said.

“Oh, I am somewhat depressed, but I tend to look at the broader scheme of things. My vision will not be built in a single night’s work, time and patience will be the key to bring forth my vision into existence. And most importantly, the council will owe a favor when the time comes, do remember, Master Ferguson, I will come to collect. I would hate to have to forcefully aid you in recollecting such a favor,” the dark-haired man said with a playful smile.

“The council does not forget it’s debt,” Master Ferguson growled as he rose to his feet.

“Oh, and my most profound condolences on your daughter’s death. I heard she was a wonderful wife and mother, but I’m sure you will raise her child well. Remind me, how old is your grandson, 6 or 7 years old?” The dark-haired man causally asked.

The grip on Master Ferguson’s cane tightens as he brusquely says, “Threaten mine own flesh and blood and I will see you hang for it.” Master Ferguson limps away as a smile plays on the dark-haired man’s face. “We shall see,” the dark-haired man happily murmured to himself, before returning to the news. After all, he had all the time in the world for his plans to bear fruit. For it was always the poisonous snake that got the last laugh.

*

An unknown time later, the dark-haired enters a grand court that is empty except for the inhuman beauty seated in an ivory throne. Dressed in black clothing of mourning, the Queen Mother coldly says, “Why has a representative of the agency come to see me?

“This is on my own recognizant,” the dark-haired man replied.

The Queen Mother narrows her eyes and says, “Tell me, mortal, why should I not destroy you where you stand?

“I have a minor proposal for you, Queen Mother, that will benefit both parties,” the dark-haired man suggested.

“I am listening, mortal. Speak,” the Queen Mother ordered.

“I will ensure Atlas Starr’s death by using the hand of the Esper’s to do so,” The dark-haired man said.

The Queen Mother thoughtfully narrows her eyes. “And what does that grant me, mortal? I wish to see him die before me for his vile murder of my son,” the Queen Mother susurrated.

“I understand your grief, My Queen. But by withholding your wrath, the Conclave will gain more,” the dark-haired man persuasively said. The Queen Mother nods at him to continue. “Stay your hand, My Queen and in exchange, I will assure you that with the death of Atlas Starr, the entire world be at your mercy. Please allow me to show proof of my devotion, My Queen. I shall personally whisper a secret only known two, one them myself and now yourself, My Queen,” the dark-haired man connivingly stated.

The Queen Mother frowns and says, “Very well, approach mortal. But should any signs of treachery present themselves I shall kill you.”

“Of course, My Queen,” the dark-haired man solemnly replied. With frim strides, he crosses up the steps and leans over the Queen Mother. The dark-haired man whispers so softly that the Queen Mother barely catches his words. But her eyes widen with shock at his words the reveal untold secrets.

The dark-haired man politely retreats backward to his original position. The Queen Mother leans back to rest against her throne in pensive thoughts. “Very well, I shall abide by your request. Now depart, mortal.”

“Thank you, My Queen,” the dark-haired man said, before moving to turn away.

“Mortal, I too, shall tell you a secret,” the Queen Mother said with some relish as the dark-haired man stiffens and turns to face her once more.

“I have lived for long and survived the undercurrents of this world. But do not foolishly believe for one second I cannot see what you are playing at, little thing. Nevertheless, I shall grace you with some advice, little thing. Do not underestimate, Atlas Starr, that devil may be killable, but his legacy, may not so be easily uprooted,” the Queen Mother flatly stated.

The dark-haired man confidently nods at the Queen Mother, before striding away. The Queen Mother shakes her head at the follies of youth. The dark-haired man departs from the Conclave as a large smile appears on his face. Everything was falling into place exactly as planned. It would take years for the threads of the world to unravel and when they did, he would be waiting.

The simple truce held until the spoken promise was fulfilled. The hand used was that of the Esper’s, but the bargain made was with the Conclave. And when that day came, the time of formal truces was over. The time of conquest would finally come, and all hell would be unleashed on the unsuspecting Earth.