Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: Saint Lemeux

Now that the mortal creature had lost its ability to remain awake, the entity piloting Harik turned its attention towards the approaching thunder of the Order's motorcycle. With a wave of it's puppets hand, the wall of fire would fade from existence, as would all the ice its ravenous vessel had created in its desperate attempt to feed. Foolish being. Unwise of Nito's spawn to send one so fresh in Winter's ways on so vital a task.

Another wave, and the shadows around the Caldonian leapt to life, wrapping him in a shroud of impenetrable darkness, rendering the body all but invisible for the time being. It was time for its marionette to leave, and return to the Pact-Keeper. A single finger would quickly etch a strange rune into one of the alleyway walls.

From outside the alley, the approaching Paladin would simultaneously see and feel two distinct things. A sound, like rushing air, more akin to a tornado than to a vacuum, this being accompanied by a flash of blinding light, akin in hue to freshly fallen powder. They would find the side street empty, save for Will himself, whose body would be wreathed in spatterings of ice crystals. The rune would still be carved into the bricks, glowing brilliantly the same color as the explosion of radiance from mere seconds before, but rapidly, this illumination would fade...

-------

Far away, or relatively speaking, Harik would be spat out from a desolate frozen hell with a flurry of ebony snow and shrieking winds. His mind, and body, would be his own again, the Evernight's limited influence on the Material all but spent for the time being. His dark sapphire eyes swam with visions, and a temporary madness clung to his mind as he tried to make sense of what all had just occurred.

Oddly, and thankfully enough, he felt hunger no longer, as if the touch of its true Master had freed the young Caeruleum from the need to feed. He'd look around, finding himself in a vacant parking lot, far closer to Lumenia Square than to his previous location. The briefcase, which he had dropped during his transformation, had found...no...had been placed back in his clutches. Somehow. It seemed Winter still wished for him to continue the task his Uncle had commanded of him...

Harik set to work...
 
The bike skidded to a halt outside the alleyway, headlights pouring into its shadows and its rider already halfway off of it with lawkeeper drawn before it had even finished moving. Estelle's eyes took in the scene in the alleyway in an instant. The fallen boy, the glowing rune, and importantly... the absence of anything else. Before moving forwards, she brought her radio up to her mouth. "This is Dufort, requesting backup and medical assistance to Marylebone Avenue, Saint Lemeux. One victim of unidentified ice magic, perpetrator not yet sighted. Moving in to get a closer look."

As she advanced, she pulled a roundlight from her belt and affixed it to her weapon, further illuminating the alleyway. Only once the rune had faded did she move forwards in earnest, keeping her eyes on it, the rooftops and the shadows, in case of an unexpected assault. Still keeping her eyes peeled, she crouched down beside Will and felt for a pulse. When she found it, she lifted her radio again. "Victim is still alive, get me that ambulance stat. The assailant appears to have fled the scene."

Before long, Estelle was joined by several other paladins, Will was lifted into an ambulance and the alleyway was cordoned off for investigation.
 
The sounds of commotion were a distant echo behind Aurelie, they only increased the tempo of her footsteps. The cathedral was approaching fast, but she quickly skidded to a halt after seeing not one, not two, but a crowd of people gathered. The subject of such a gathering, a mysterious figure dressed in resplendent and colorful robes, with some sort of helmet or mask over his face. He apparently sang in another tongue and required a translator, but his words were moving and beautiful all the same, as she approached the fringes of the congregation.

That's when he scanned the crowd, and looked directly at her.

Her numb, dead body did something she no longer thought possible: a chill shot down her spine. Even the most monstrous sights of Nox paled in comparison to what was otherwise a completely banal, if at least strange, being. She felt her insides recoil and wrench in fear, one not only inexplicably powerful, but so rooted in her core, so very ingrained in the pit of her stomach...

Her stomach! She rested one hand over it, and had to hold back a gasp. Her baby, within Lacroix's womb it thrashed and squirmed, as if scrambling to escape. Her own consuming terror agreed with its sentiment, and as such she ran from Umahd, from the Cathedral, and back into the streets and alleys. She haphazardly dropped the bomb into a random dumpster, and continued to run.

As she ran, the familiar sounds of hubbub, Destriers, and an ambulance became louder and louder. She rounded the corner to see if something had happened to Harik, when she was greeted with the sight of multiple paladins.
 
-- Elsewhere --

The woman had stared at the building from the dark of the ally way across from it for some hours, sitting against the hard brick. Smoke trailed from her lips as she puffed once again on the cigarette she'd pilfered from some poor sap earlier, as well as.. A few other things. Her father hadn't taught her to hunt yet, but he'd forgotten by this point it would seem. Since the attack came, he'd been unusually distant from her. Which was fine, normally. Except Noemi was finding an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.

As much as she hated that man, as much as she wanted to watch the life leave his eyes by her own hands.. He was her only companion that she could trust, as much as that was saying. Her 'brother'.. She'd try to earn his trust, but in the end, he'd remain loyal to whatever bound him to their father to begin with. The human friends she once had, most likely had forgotten her by this point, assumed she was dead. And they would be right, technically. But once they found out what she was, they'd most likely turn on her as well. No, the young vampire was finding that in all reality, she was very much alone.

But that wasn't the issue at the moment. How was she expected to get this thing inside a busy building, alone, in order to do the most damage?

Taking one last puff of her cigarette, and letting out the toxic fumes in a sigh, she smashed it on the side of the moldy brick. Whatever she had to do, it had to be done soon. So she pulled the hood up to her hoodie, picking up her backpack up full of clothes, a laptop, and other things and made her way to the police headquarters.

She'd made herself look as though she was lost and afraid as she approached the building. She softly bit her lip and nervously walked up to the receptionist, who looked up at her expectantly.

"I-I.." She stammered. "I-I think I'm o-one of the lost people..?" She pointed to the board of 'have you seen me?' flyers.
 
Harik watched from outside the precinct, eyes covered by a pair of inconspicuous designer shades, cup of untouched coffee in hand. Unlike his uncle, he hadn't retained a taste for mortal food and drink. On the contrary, it all tasted like ash upon his lips, and worse once settling on his tongue. The young Caldonian Caer attributed this to his unusual appetites. Again, unlike his uncle, the pyromancer of the cold flame didn't much care for sanguine and visceral. Sure, yes, they sustained him and abated his hungers, but beyond that, he took no joy in the acts of consuming flesh. Raw emotions, particularly those that played off of traits such as curiosity, fear, and trepidation.

He truly didn't know why Nox had appointed him to watch over his niece in such a way. Surely a self-realized Caer, even one of low birth, would feel no threat from casual, run-of-the-mill law enforcement. According to what their mutual patriarch had told them, even one foot soldier of the old regime had been enough to tangle toe-to-toe with a squad of trained Paladins. And although he was a stranger to these lands, he already grasped that the Monastic Order posed much more of a threat to the Novus Imperium than a few street cops and their piddly little fire arms. What trouble would Noemi have in gaining entrance to such a place, and planting their little surprise, resistance or no?

Still...it was not his place to question...

Running a hand through his feathery, raven black hair, he turned his darkened gaze upon Aurelie, sitting opposite of him underneath the corner bistro's awning table. "What say you, ma'am? Do you really think we need to be here?"
 
The Caer matron considered the question, briefly leaning her head against a gloved palm, with her elbow on the table. She still covered herself with leather and linen garb, though they were not the utilitarian padded clothing she once wore. Instead, ornate finery adorned the vampire, and instead of a full cowl, she simply bore a pointed cap. A crooked white feather tucked within it swayed lazily in the chilling breeze.

"She will have little issue, probably," Aurelie spoke, a hint of boredom tinging her voice. They had been waiting for some time, after all. "That, dear Harik, is precisely the concern. 'Probably'. The slightest chance of failure is enough of a liability. Empires have fallen from neglecting precautions, simply because it was deemed to 'probably' work. Failure here would be catastrophic, even if unlikely."

Lacroix plucked a glass of red wine from the table and swirled the crimson contents gently, looking up at the Caldonian. "If Noemi can fulfill her task effectively, we simply return home, and will have no extra work today. If she encounters some sort of heavy resistance or needs help, we are here, and ready. Otherwise, it would only probably work."

She straightened her posture and picked up a shaker of salt, sprinkling an ever so slight amount into her wine. "It's not intended as an insult to the drink, I assure you. I remember how it tasted as a human, though with our, er, affliction, I find a little salt goes a long way in making many a food and drink more desirable. Perhaps it reminds the tongue of blood?"
 
Square de Savageau, the central administrative headquarters of the LPD, was so abuzz with activity when Noemi walked into the lobby that she escaped notice almost entirely. The lobby was like an ant nest that had been kicked, with both police officers and administrative staff alike dashing to and fro clutching fluttering reports, or yelling into phones. The phones throughout the building were ringing off of their hooks as people called in reports of new attacks and explosions across the city.

"We need cars at Auclair! The academy's been-"

"-church hasn't been keeping us up to speed with the situation in the park! Our reports there are a mess, nobody can keep track of-"

"-have requested police presence around high priority targets that haven't been hit yet. Do we have the personnel to-"

"-bus and subway stations closing, we've got civilians stranded and panicking, why haven't we put out an emergency broadcast yet? Get me-"

These were only a few of the panicked bytes of conversation Noemi was able to catch as people rushed past her. As she approached the desk, where a harried and fearful looking receptionist of a venerable age was sat, the woman seemed almost relieved to have something to distract her from the whirlwind of events unfolding that she had no influence over. "Oh, goodness!" she said, getting to her feet. "I'm sorry everything's so hectic right now, dear, there's been some sort of attack and we're struggling to coordinate everything- No, you don't need to worry about that. What's your name, honey? Can I get you some tea?"

Across the room from her, Jack was pacing back and forth, the thumb of his left hand tucked into his pocket, whilst his fingers drummed impatiently on his outer thigh. His other hand held his phone to his ear, as he listened to the dial tone for his partner's phone for the fifth time since the attacks had hit. He'd been giving a report in to headquarters and Lauren had been meeting with a contact in Lumiena Square around the time the news had come in that it was one of the locations that had been bombed, and Jack hadn't heard from her since. "Come on, Lauren..." he muttered. "You owe me too much coffee to be dead, damn it, pick the fuck up."
 
Noemi shifted uneasily on her spot, biting the back of lip in what seemed to be nervousness. Her eyes shifted back and forth from the people running to and fro, catching whiffs of their panic as they rushed past. As delicious as it was, she tried to focus on the task at hand.

“N-no thank you..” She stammered. The youngling vampire looked into the secretary’s eyes, hoping she looked as though she was about to cry. “I think my name is Noemi Moreau.. Th-that’s what the thing in the wallet said..” She scrambled to reach for her wallet. She seemed to grow more frantic. “P-please, you have to help me, he may find me any minute.. I don’t want to go back down there, I don’t want him to hurt me anymore..”
 
The impatient Noble Caer would tsk loudly, clacking his tongue against his front two teeth. "I think I'll pass. Not much one for wine, even before I made the change, and the idea of salted wine makes my skin crawl. But if it helps you keep on keeping on, then by all means my lady." The black haired spellslinger would sneak another furtive glance towards de Savageau, cold fire dancing behind his otherwise beautiful sapphire eyes. Something lingered in that fire, a presence that fixated itself on Aurelie rather than the police station its host focused on.

A part of Winter still resided within Harik. It came as no surprise. Unlike the other members of the Family, the pyromancer was more akin to his Lord Uncle than his nieces and nephews. His blood ran true, a true descendant of Nito, bound to the Brokered Contract, his ichor the very same ink used to sign the foul agreement eons ago. Unlike Nox, however, Harik made no effort to make such heritage obvious. Yes, he dressed flamboyantly, and when conversing, it was obvious how much pride and coy cunning the young undead possessed, but he did not carry himself with the showboating swagger that the pairs mutual patriarch normally did. If anything, he tried to make himself as small as possible...

"I wish she would hurry. It won't be long before the quarters start getting locked down, what with our little presents going off all around us and your husband making a mess of things in the park. We can't afford to stay out in the open too long..."

Perhaps that was it, more than anything else. Harik was one who worried and one who erred on the side of careful consideration. So very much unlike his kindred blood. So much unlike the father of Aurelie's child.
 
"It helps, but I still wish I could taste it as it once was. Many fine foods are also losing their luster, I'm afraid, though 'fixing' them is nowhere near as heinous," The vampire groaned and cast a gaze towards the police station herself.

"Perhaps she's having difficulty?" It was a possibility she was turning her coat, though Aurelie chose not to mention it aloud. "Do you have any way to contact her from here, possibly something other than a cellphone?"

"As pleasant as the weather is, I would rather not stay overlong," she glanced to Harik expectantly.
 
"Okay hun, don't panic, I'm going to call someone and-"

"No need, Margaret," a voice cut across the receptionist as a strongly built bald man in a buttoned shirt that was slightly too small for his broad frame stepped over. "Moreau, was it? I'm Commandant Marshall. May I?" He gestured for the wallet, and when Noemi handed it to him, he checked the ID inside. He frowned. There was no doubt, she was definitely the missing cop. He thought he'd recognised her from the case file. For her to turn up here on today in the midst of a full scale terrorist attack? It couldn't be a coincidence. A warning, maybe? Whoever was doing this clearly had a flair for the dramatic.

"Alright Ms. Moreau, please come this way. You're safe here, but I'm going to need to ask you some questions about how you ended up here. Margaret, get some tea and bring it to room 108." He said, gesturing for Noemi to follow. He caught the arm of a passing officer as they went. "Get me the case files on the missing persons investigation, and inform DI Monroe that Noemi Moreau just showed up at our door and is heading to room 108."

After sending the man off, Marshall led Noemi into the building, down a few corridors and eventually into a small interrogation room. He gestured for her to sit down, and took a seat opposite. "Don't worry about the setting, this isn't an interrogation," he said after a moment. "I just need to ask you some questions to figure out of there's any important information you have. Can you describe to me exactly how you came to walk into the building here today?"
 
The woman looked to nearly jump from her skin as soon as the new voice came to her attention. It had come to a shock to even Noemi that he had been able to sneak up on her, although perhaps her concentration on the subject at hand had been enough to keep her attention away from her surroundings. It did play to her act though, and she looked up at him with big blue eyes as she showed him her ID.

She remained quiet as she followed the man down the hallways, seeming a bit jittery. She hesitated to sit, but when she did, she made herself look as small as she could, placing her back down beside the table.

"I er.. I walked here.." She admitted. "I wasn't sure if I should come here or not.. I wasn't sure if he'd have someone looking for me.." Her voice trailed off until it was mere muttering, her eyes occasionally moving to the door and back to Marshall. "H-he has a lot of 'friends' h-he says.."
 
"And where did you walk here from?" Marshall asked, flipping out a notebook and starting to pen a few notes. "What can you tell me about the man you're referring to? Is he the one who abducted you?"
 
Harik groaned in an exaggerated fashion before pulling his phone from a hidden coat pocket. Thumbing the number onto the dial pad in a bored, exasperated manner, the noble Caer was about to call his baseborn niece when something struck him.

A wave of ravenous bloodlust and capricious malice washed over him like a tidal wave, cold dense and dark, threatening to drown out his senses. Aurelie would feel it at well, being drawn into the unborn creature in her womb as if it fed upon the malignant energy that cascaded across the pair of undead. No doubt Nox's daughter inside the police station would feel it as well. It would fill the three with power and hunger, attempting to override their cautions and drive them to violence...

It was undoubtedly the aura of their Lord. It was unmistakably the signal to begin...
 
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The least 'blessed' by Winter of the three experienced the wave of malevolent energy as a sudden rush of irritation, which quickly wore away at her once-impressive patience. Much more upsetting to her was, instead, her child's reaction to the energy. It writhed, raged and roiled within Aurelie's womb, souring her expression by the moment. Even when the child slowly calmed, her irritation remained. Such a shock left Lacroix in a foul mood, almost enough for her to take it out on a mortal bystander.

"It sounds like our Patriarch has already begun, Harik," she growled, though her anger was clearly not towards the mage or towards Nox, "We shall make our move."
 
The woman flinched and grabbed her head. It had been hard enough to hold back her impulses upon entering this building. But with her sire's aura flaring to life, it was enough to nearly push her over the edge. It was time to try to use her new powers or risk possibly ending up dead for attacking a cop. She turned back to Marshall, who she expected to have some confusion to her reaction, and focused hard on him. Willing him, almost, to do what she wanted. She wasn't sure this would work, and if it didn't, she would immediately have to kill this man and move on.

"I want you to stand up." She demanded in a cold snarl, lips curling in almost a smile. It was all she could do to keep herself from leaping over the table to her interrogator, but she'd be damned if she would do it Nox's way. Her arms trembled as she stood up and grabbed the table hard, the metal thing creaking under the strain. Her body tensed as she waited to see if she could control the officer, ready to spring if need be.
 
The eyes of the commandant glazed over, becoming distant and unfocused. A moment later, he rose to his feet, looking confused. "What the..?" he mumbled, his eyes regaining clarity somewhat as he completed the hypnotic order. "The hell did you..." he started to say, but presumably he would be given little chance to recover his coordination before Noemi acted again.
 
She didn't hesitate to order him again, lest she lose her nerve. "I want you to lead me outside, calmly. If anyone asks or tries to stop you for something else, you're done with the interrogation and you are just going to escort me home." Forcing as much will as she could behind her words, she hoped it would continue to work as well as the first time. She would figure out what to do with him, once the place was up in flames. She rose, taking one look at the bag she was leaving behind, before crossing over to the cop. "Let us go, Commandant Marshall."

If all seemed well enough she would follow him out the building, the job done.
 
The Commandant’s sentence hung unfinished as Noemi cut him off with another order, his eyes regaining the glazed appearance of a moment before. Wordlessly, he nodded, turning towards the door. “This way, ma’am,” he said, gesturing for Noemi to follow as he moved out of the interrogation room and into the hallway. There, people continued to rush past them as they hurried to respond to new reports coming in across the city of attacks and coordinate with the church’s own response. Nobody seemed in any position to question the woman being led through the corridors by a high-ranking officer, or to linger long enough to notice the slightly distant quality to his gaze.
That was until, in the lobby itself, they were stopped – a woman’s voice calling out to them. “Commandant Marshall! Commandant, sir, what- where are you going?” A dark-skinned woman who looked to be in her late thirties was hurrying towards them, wearing an irritated frown. “You told me you were taking her to room 108, sir, what’s the meaning of this?”

“I’m done with the interrogation, Munroe,” Marshall answered sternly. “I’m escorting Ms. Moreau home.”
“No- sir, I apologise, but I can’t accept that. I’ve been on this case for weeks now, I need time with her-“ she cut herself off, then, turning her attention onto Noemi. “My apologies, Miss, I don’t mean to speak about you so rudely. I’m Ericka Munroe, I’ve been heading the investigation into the missing women. I know you must want to get home as soon as you can, but I would really appreciate it if I could have a few words with you first.”
 
Staggering to his feet, the young Caldonian felt nearly overwhelmed by the sudden spike in malevolent power that threatened to over take him. Gritting his fangs hard enough they were sure to crack, Harik braced himself against the barely stable table and cursed.

"Wait," he commanded his pregnant partner, temporarily forgetting his station in the pecking order. "Uncle told me the gist of my role," a pause, shuddering against the violent urges that gnawed at the walls of his mind. It was all he could do to concentrate hard enough to summon forth the power he needed. That, and mumble.

Silent, ethereal runes floated before his vision, landing like shimmering snowflakes all around them and the precicnt. "Careful...not to touch those..." he warned Aurelie, telling her to be mindful of the street now teeming with arcane powered pyrokenetic landmines.
 
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