Dezmond's slight nod, acknowledged William's new life path. A gentle pause weighed against the words to come, as the politician aimed to comfort his long-time ally. "Life within the Red Order may offer your boy some much needed perspective. Having everything taken away may give him a new form of freedom, releasing him from material wants."

‘Or exasperate them’, Astral thought. To break free of the burden of material desire, a conscious decision must be made. Unfortunately for William, that decision was not his to make. As a result, he may spend the rest of his life compensating for the wealth he felt entitled to in his formative years. Somehow, material possessions became synonymous with proof of his identity.

For a fleeting moment, Astral felt a pang of sympathy for the nuisance. There wasn’t much in his life that he had control over. Much of his path was dictated by the whims of powerful people, herself included. He was a tool, a game piece that was shoved around the board. His wants, needs, and individuality did not factor into their grand game. Even now, they were trying to move him off the board. She was no different in this respect.

William as a talking point dominated the room’s attention. Dezmond was blathering on that though the long-term consequence of the rumour would forever haunt his grand-daughter, especially in the upper echelons of society, most of the damage would be negated through DNA analysis. She couldn’t legally be barred from owning property, inheriting Omega, or engaging in a marriage contract. Socially, her life was going to be nightmare.

Though legally society had to allow her to engage in activities of her class, it didn’t mean that the cost purchasing a property wouldn’t inflate exponentially. She couldn’t force quality suitors to bid on her marriage contract, nor could she negotiate a favourable arrangement. She would have to accept being bled dry by her so-called equals.

Dezmond’s plan revolved around securing the signatures of the nation’s faction leaders, including the war hero who brought about the end of the Regime Lord Leon, the Holy Father of the Red Order, various members of the Council, as well as Mathias and the accuser himself, who in essence will be forced to recant his claim when faced of so many important people. This was Dezmond’s intimidation tactic against William in a bold statement that implied, ‘you will sign or you will have no future as long as these people have power’. Those people couldn’t be bothered to remember William’s name the instant they left the room, but the boy didn’t need to know that. Validation seeking was a wonderfully predictable curse.

Astral didn’t doubt for a second that Dezmond had already made the arrangements with the nation’s powers. She predicted that the party would depart first thing in the morning to head to the lab where the in-depth DNA analysis would take place. The crux in his plan was that as a proxy, it made sense for Astral to remain where she was when the ‘real’ Astral was assessed. But that would drive the rumours…

There was more to his plan than just clearing Astral’s name and securing his legacy. Those signatures, no doubt acquired as favours, not only implicated everyone in the ordeal, but their participation tied them to Dezmond.

Mathias agreed to Dezmond’s claims, wanting to appease his employer. Their working relationship could never be the same. Mathias’ soul flickered with sheens of embarrassment. He had never thought that his son could fall so far. When Dezmond spoke, hope flourished within the Master Hunter.

The Councilman was someone Mathias respected. From what she could tell from Dezmond’s fractured soul, mutual respect wasn’t in the old man’s vocabulary. It was safe to say that he wasn’t disappointed, any more than he was angry. Mathias still had his uses and was still willing to be used. An arrangement would be made…

"This matter should be resolved in a few weeks," Dezmond concluded.

"If this whole Enhanced thing really bothers you, you could advocate for a change in the laws," Astral offered, knowing he'd rather swallow hot coals.

His feelings toward the Enhanced didn't factor into his policies as a Councilman. He was indifferent to their continued existence, which was the same way he felt toward the average human. He treated the Enhanced with respect and humanity, but refused to give an inch that allowed them the same grace as the rest of the nation.

Astral suspected that his policies had something to do with control, but not control over the Enhanced as such. Having a bait race meant he could prey on some of the worst of his political brethren.

Meanwhile, the Enhanced flocked to Serenity and Omega, as both places were reputed for humane treatment, giving Dezmond power over some of the most feared people in the country.

It was hard not to respect his maneuvers. She reminded herself for the umpteenth time to remain vigilant of the old man. He was too much like his ancestor. ‘And perhaps,’ Astral loath to admit, ‘we too are too much alike.’

She felt her core chortle.

The politician didn't grace her with a retort. Instead, Dezmond levelled an icy stare at her, reminding her that her place was to follow orders, not to state an opinion. Of course, as a proxy, an Enhanced proxy at that, she had no say, nor had the right to voice an opinion.

Avery’s gaze flitted away from Astral as though trying to avoid being associated with such a treacherous remark. Shame inked her soul, an inner rage sparking against her fear of speaking out. Astral couldn’t blame her. Here and now wasn’t the place to engage in political anything. Besides, Avery was leading a pretty good life, and Dezmond was petty enough to take it all away in a show of power.

Damien spoke up. “We need a fail safe. If things get a little too challenging for our proxy, we may need to remove her from the mission.” He leaned in, resting his chin against his fist. He nodded to himself as he mentally reassessed their position with the information he had. “Removing the proxy from the mission will jeopardize everything.” To the headmaster he added, “We don’t send this particular agent into just any fight.”

Mathias nodded in agreement, but changed the direction of the conversation before Vincent could ask for more. “The Gaming Commission have taken an interest in William.”

An interesting detail. The Gaming Commission, G.C. for short, were in charge of coordinating the games at the Academy. Astral found it odd that the G.C. wasn’t a committee made up of staff and student who sacrificed their free time for brownie points in their rankings. Instead, they were a fully staffed division, with enormous salaries, whose main office was top side but outside of the school grounds.

Astral had chalked it up to one of those businesses that got swallowed by the Council and allocated to the wealthy nephew of some political ally. She didn’t feel the need to look any deeper. At the time, corporate business dealings didn’t necessarily guarantee a deal with the actual devil.

The school’s resources had only a few lines relating the committee’s role which was to maintain the values and integrity of the games in the spirit of personal excellence.

After Seth had revealed the program chamber, without realizing the true nature of the machine, she knew the games were involved in the demon’s personal ecosystem. Anything game related fell onto her radar.

Monitoring the committee members interactions with the games proved challenging. They arrived on the first train Saturday morning, locked themselves away in the arena until the gates opened, at exactly nine in the morning, to an onslaught of desperate fans looking forward to the new season. When questioning the students and staff, the most she got about the G.C. was that they were observing the game, making sure that the players weren’t abusing the rules and that everything was working.

When she pushed for details about what they meant by working, they pointed to the visuals in the domed sky, suggesting that the G.C. were tracking scores. However, when the game was on, she didn’t see G.C. agent anywhere near the arena.

“What exactly are they taking an interest in?” Astral asked.

“Mostly they wanted William’s account of the events in the last game,” Mathias replied. “He wasn’t able to give them much work with. I’m not sure we’ll be able to get much out of him ourselves.”

Astral shook her head and waved away Mathias’ concerns. “We’re going to stress him,” she said in a way that suggested that the solution to dealing with William was simple and obvious. “He might not remember anything, but his subconscious might. He’s a creature of his baser instincts. In this situation, it’s best to interrogate the animal instead.”

Damien gave the theory some consideration. Dezmond shook his head in disappointment, while Avery and the headmaster shared a horrified look. “He’s just a boy!” the headmaster said. “He’s already deeply traumatized and possibly in a state of shock! You can’t go around treating people like means to an end.”

Ah… Mathias’ concern wasn’t for the mission, it was for William’s state of mind.

The Headmaster’s concerns were not for the boy. She noted the missing sparks of virtuous indignation. His inner light dimmed, flickering like a candle caught in a draught. He was beginning to question his role in the mission. Did he think that he had control over the execution of the mission? Did he not understand that involving him at all was a courtesy? Was he expecting praise? There would be no heroic accolades when this mess got sorted out. Did he not know that? His assistance sped up their mission, she couldn’t deny that. His experience saved them from the administrative nightmare involved in by-passing paperwork, policies, and laws.

Dezmond sat back in his chair, drawing the room’s attention to him. “It is unfortunate that the boy who slandered my grand-daughter would also find himself at the center of this intrigue. We are racing against the clock, never knowing when the demon will awaken fully. While I have complete confidence in the E.M.I. agents, the boy’s aid may serve to reveal the mastermind of this secret organization. If we have a party acting against human interest, we must find them.” The severity in the politician’s tone implied that he had considered all other alternatives in the short time since Astral had brought up the idea. His decision, the only one that mattered, was that he agreed that there was no other option.

She hated the way he rallied support. She hated his false sympathy. She hated the way the others turned on her for being practical, but swooned over Dezmond’s lies. She was saving lives! Dezmond was pandering to the crowd, and they lapped it up.

The headmaster’s soul flickered to life, the burden of sacrificing the boy lifted. Watching his soul heal itself infuriated Astral more than Dezmond’s translation of her plan. Two seconds ago, it was not okay to kill off some kid. But NOW! Now that someone else says that it’s okay, his soul recovered?! Astral adjusted her stance to avoid lunging at the headmaster.

She needed to leave the room. She needed to be alone.

Dezmond sullen face played up the guilt that he was supposed to feel with regards to such a heavy decision. It served to relieve the others of their guilt. “Oh for god sakes!” Astral threw her hands up in the air.

“Language, young lady!” Dezmond snapped, more shocked than angry. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard he say worst things. She and her teddy bear, Sgt. Scruffy, spent hours chaining curse words together to blow off steam. Scruffy felt that it was better for her to use words rather than fists…or magic in her case.

Astral scowled at Dezmond, the limit of her patience reaching its breaking point. “I’m not saying William going to die!” Heaven knows she had tried on more than one occasion to take him out. The boy was blessed. Whomever had laid the ground work to William’s existence had done a phenomenal job in protecting him. “This isn’t comeuppance. It’s not vengeance. It’s practical.”

That was her problem, she stripped out the human elements from her mission. She expected human obstacles, but she didn’t spend any energy on the emotional impact of the plan.