Prose Magica: The Ballad of the Seventeenth Part 16

Sleepy Sue's engine rumbled as the armoured car meandered down the cold streets of Toronto. Within, Odette sat on the floor, staring blankly at her laptop's screen. For the first time in months, her head seemed clear. She thought of the case, of Lotte and a new start. Her mind wandered to the image of the blonde Callidus' face and the thought of her touch, making Odette smile and blush like only a teenage girl in love could. For years she'd forced herself to ignore Lotte's advances, whether out of anger or fear. Something had changed inside of her. She was no longer Odette Brighton, Warmaster of the Seventeenth. For the first time in far too long, she was happy enough to just be Odette, the girl who eats too many sweets, writes dorky poetry in her spare time and works for a fat cat with an enormous moustache.

Shaking herself out of her content stupor, Odette got back to looking over the history of Fennel Vance. It occurred to her that she ought to have done a more in-depth look much earlier, but her earlier melancholy hadn't exactly proven to be the best state of mind in which to work. Contracted for just about four years, Fennel's file seemed to have more redacted missions and details than anything else. It was to be expected of someone in her line of work; the Seventeenth may have been a bit more picky about its clients than others, but there were still a good many that ought best be left out of official reports. One thing in particular about the blacked-out information caught Odettes eye, however. It appeared that - relative to her current state - Fennel was entirely average during her first year. She was described with words like 'friendly' and 'personable', if a bit on the quiet side. Her second year consisted of but a single, censored assignment, after which she seemed to take on her current, morbidly lighthearted demeanour.

Odette stared at the black lines for some time, mulling over what could possibly have happened and whether or not it was important enough to call in for further information. It looked to be about the size of four short paragraphs, further adding to the mystery. A single assignment with four paragraphs worth of information that took an entire year. The one-eyed girl groaned as she conceded, reaching into the pocket of her jeans to find her cell.

"Mornin', sunshine!" Holly answered after only a single ring, accompanied by the non-stop sound of typing.

Odette rolled her eyes and grinned, laughing at how casual the Vanus could be after not speaking for over a week.

"Good morning to you too, Holly," the silver-haired girl replied. "Sorry I didn't call you earlier. I really meant to, but-"

"Busy night?"

"In a manner of speaking," Odette laughed, humming a bit to herself. "Miss me?"

Holly paused for a moment, as if debating whether or not to make a joke. "Aaaah hell, you know I did, shrimp! Even I can't joke about it when you drop of the face of the Earth all of the sudden."

"And yet, you still have the nerve to call me 'shrimp'."

"Your vertical deficiencies are fair game. So what's up?"

Odette huffed loudly before turning her attention back to work. "Take a look at Vance's file. There's a whole year censored and judging by everything else, it looks like something big happened then. Mind unlocking that for me?"

"Uh, yeah, gimme a sec," the Vanus replied, followed by a momentary silence. "Mhrm. Looks like that's ultraviolet level information for whatever reason."

"Seriously?"

"Ayup, so I'm gonna have to run it by Terry or Tubs. Gimme a few."

"Take as long as you need," the one-eyed girl replied.

As soon as she had said it, Odette realized how little the bureaucracy bothered her. A week earlier and she would have been sent into a slump over not having her old clearance. The Eversor drummed her fingers on the keys lightly as her mind began to wander yet again. Almost unconsciously, she opened a side window of a fresh document and began jotting words down. Thoughts of love and the future that had suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Hey! Hey!" Holly called out. Glancing at the clock, Odette realized that she had managed to zone into her poetry for five whole minutes. "Alright, so bad news. Terry's not answering her phone for whatever reason and Foob's having tea with the Seventh. You know how he hates being disturbed during their tea parties."

"So..?" Odette queried, scrambling to jam the phone between her cheek and shoulder. "Guess I'll take a rain-check on this one?"

"Well," the Vanus started, "I could just go ahead and unlock it... I doubt Foob would mind. I mean, with you being sane again and Kelzang coming to visit, I could tell him half the Officio died and he'd probably be okay with it. As long as it's for work, it should be fine."

"And Therese?"

"Terry doesn't check these things and besides, she's your biggest fan. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't know, Holly," the former Warmaster muttered. "I can wait, it's cool. Besides, don't you have to follow the three laws or something?"

"Don't be a smart ass, tiny," Holly scolded. "If anything happens, I'll take responsibility for this one."

"If you say so..."

"One, two, aaaaaand," a few more firm key presses rang out through the phone, "refresh."

Odette did as she was told and hit a key, refreshing the page. Suddenly, the wall of black lines filled out, replaced with text littered with the numbers and acronyms she had come to except from incident reports. Nothing about it seemed terribly out of the ordinary - it seemed to be an entirely standard training mission - until her eye ran across two words that Odette had hoped to never see again:

Varrigan City.

As it turned out, Fennel had been volunteered for a particular training mission. One that entailed being dropped into the city without outside contact and eking out a living for two weeks until extraction. A ninety percent mortality rate. How the seemingly mild-mannered Fennel Vance managed to take part was unthinkable; the fact that only a single member of her four-girl squad arrived for extraction spoke well enough for their success. It wasn't until an entire year later that Fennel - along with an unidentified individual - arrived for an entirely different training squad's extraction. In the face of such an unprecedented situation, the Eighth and Seventeenth agreed to take her home.

"Christ, kid," Odette muttered, feeling just a twinge of pity for the girl who had tortured her for over a week. "What did they do to you?"

Somehow, she had managed to survive in the closest thing to Hell on Earth for an entire year. She never spoke of what happened in the city, nor told anyone who was with her when she left, only ever calling the figure "Sensei" or "The Wolf". Odette read it over and over, as if expecting to find some hidden answer to the obvious question. How did she do it? Even before it had become a ruined, mutant-ridden hellscape, it was already a horrible place to be for a single day, let alone an entire year.

Odette let an exasperated breath run through her nostrils. "Thanks, Holly. It might not be related to the case, but it'll give me some serious ammo if she doesn't want to talk."

"No problem, doll," the Vanus laughed, before adding, "So hey, chubby said you wanted to requisition some supplies or something?"

"Oh yeah, almost forgot," Odette exclaimed as she suddenly remembered. "Since he wants to get me back to the fight, I figured I'd knock a few things off my Christmas list."

"Shoot."

"Alright, let's see. First, can you get me a bullet-proof cape? We started talking about it right before I got fired, right?"

"Expensive. I'd have to run it by Fubey, then start development from scratch... Like hell I'm going to those asshats in the Four-"

"But you can do it?"

Holly sighed. "Let me run a quick search on the latest tech. I'll see what I can come up with," the Vanus was silent for several moments before speaking up again. "I can dooo: blade-proof, bullet-proof... Ooh, chainsaw-proof, I didn't even know that was possible..."

"While we're at it, think you can make it work as a glider-thingy? With some magic wind thrown in, I could probably make it fly pretty well."

Holly paused for a single second, accompanied by the sound of a keyboard being pushed away. "Odette," she started slowly, "are you asking me to make you a batcape?"

"Mmmaybe? Can you handle it?"

"I'll see what I can do," the Vanus grumbled. "What else?"

"Grenades, please."

"Like," Holly said, trying to pick her words carefully, "frag grenades?"

"Yup," the one-eyed girl replied, bright and chipper as she switched the phone to her other ear. "Maybe, like, an assortment? Frag, smoke, flashbangs, all that stuff. That'd be swell."

"Do I want to ask why?"

"They would have helped a lot with that last job."

"So would a rocket launcher! And I know what you're thinking, don't eve-"

"Can I get one of those, too?"

Odette could actually hear the servos whine as Holly clenched her robotic fists in frustration. "Fancy cape and grenades. Fine. That it?"

"A pony would be nice."

"Well, yeah," the Vanus said. "A regular sized horse would be way too big for you, shrimp."

The silver-haired Eversor pursed her lips and pouted. "Guess I deserved that one."

"Trying to do you a favour here, small-fry," Holly muttered. "Show a little gratitude, why don'tcha?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Odette said, trying her best to stay serious. "I'm grateful, really. This'll help a lot. Thanks... for everything."

"D'aww, you know I was just playin' around," the Vanus replied. "I'm glad to see you in such a good mood for once. It's... refreshing? I don't remember you actually joking around like this since... For... For a long time."

"Since Mimi died."

"I didn't want to say it, but yeah," Holly said, pausing for a moment, "since Mimi died. Even then, you serious'd up pretty hard after Brie went. You've been through a lot, kiddo. I think she would've been pretty damn proud of you. You did a hell of a lot better than a lot of others."

Odette forced out a chuckle and shook her her, grinning meekly. "I don't know about that, but thanks. I just- I don't know. I just want to do my best, that's all. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for the past couple years. I'm going to do things right this time."

"I know you will, kid. I know you will. Take care."

"Later, Holly. Say hi to Molly for me."

Odette hung up and breathed a long sigh of relief. Somehow, talking to the unseen Vanus felt like another weight was lifted from her shoulders that she didn't even know was there. After a few minutes of rereading Fennel's file, the one-eyed Eversor gathered up her things and got out of the car. It had probably already been parked outside of the main building for some time, for all she knew; Lotte's condo was significantly closer than her old apartment.

As she passed by women's clothing stores on her way to the elevator, Odette made a mental note to have the Callidus take her shopping at some point. For the first time in far too long, she was perfectly fine with just letting herself be a girl. Her jeans and leather jacket combo were comfortable enough, but they weren't exactly the height of female fashion. Lotte, on the other hand, seemed to have "a guy" for every possible article of clothing or accessory. She always seemed to know exactly what was in season - though, Odette reminded herself, looking good was very much a part of her job.

Taking the pair of elevators down to the holding cells, the silver-haired girl made sure to smile the whole way and nod or say hello to passers-by. She even made sure to switch into her costume as she strode down the halls. Just about every she saw was in some way awe-struck at the sight of the fabled Odette Brighton, especially in such good humour. She had heard about the reputation she had garnered following her self-imposed exile, but it still shocked her to see just how stunned everyone seemed to be to see her.

It wasn't long before she reached the double doors of Block Nine, nicknamed "The Ninth Circle" by just about every girl in the Officio. Standing somewhat less than alert were the ubiquitous duo of Mona Bernard and Meg Laurie, the latter giving a curt nod and a restrained smile, while the former simply called out across the hallway, jumping and waving.

"Yo!" Meg shouted. "How's it goin', boss?"

"Nice to see you, too, uh," Odette snapped her fingers as she tried to remember the girl's name. Spending a week hanging from a tree had a way of sapping one's memory. "Laurie?"

The shorter girl's eyes lit up as she seemed to fade into a star-struck daze. "She remembered my name..."

"How you holding up?" The one-eyed girl asked, turning her attention to the taller of the duo.

Mona shrugged, giving Odette a neutral look. "I can do my job well enough. Nights are harder. Times when I don't have a lot on my mind."

"Has a way of creeping in, don't it?" The former Warmaster reached up to place a hand on the taller girl's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You ever need to talk or anything, feel free to give me a call. I've got time these days."

"Thanks, but, uh," Mona grinned sheepishly, glancing over at her smaller companion, "I've been staying over at Meg's place. Our- my place is a bit wrecked after... everything."

"Oh," Odette nodded slowly as her lips spread into a wide grin. "Oooh! I didn't realize you two were- Oooooh."

"What?" The taller Eversor blinked before her eyes went wide, suddenly realizing what she had said. "Oh no no nononono, I meant- I didn't- We're not- NO."

"It's alright, I understand. Magical girl life's a lot easier with a warm bed."

"Meg!" Mona shouted, grasping for assistance. "Tell her what I meant!"

"Ah?" The shorter of the pair muttered as she finally snapped back to reality. "Ah! Nah! Nah, we ain't like that! We just watch movies and play video games and read comics, SPEAKING OF WHICH!"

"Meg-"

"Hold on, I've got it here somewhere," the black-haired girl stuck her tongue out, obviously putting great effort into searching her inventory.

"Meg, no-"

"Got it!" Meg handed a single, soft-cover book to Odette, beaming with excitement. "Think of it as a get well present! Or a welcome back present. Or something."

Odette blinked as her eye ran across the title. "The Steamy Adventures of... Um."

"I got Mona hooked on them. They're actually really," Meg paused, searching for the right word, "entertaining?"

"They're... not BAD," the taller Eversor added. "But, feel free to just... not."

The one-eyed girl blinked again, taking in the cover and skimming through the pages. "The one in the glasses reminds me of someone, but I can't remember who... Huh. It'll come to me."

"So you'll read it?!"

"I guess," Odette said with a shrug. "Got nothin' better to do. Thanks, kid."

"Yes!" Meg shouted, doing a short fist pump. "Told you she would!"

"Whatever," Mona grumbled. "If you're quite finished, I have actual important stuff to talk about with her."

"Ah- Oh. S-sorry," the shorter Eversor muttered, suddenly realizing her faux pas.

"As I was GOING to ask you earlier," Mona started, "dad's funeral is in a couple days. I'd be honoured if you wouldn't mind coming. I know we don't really know each other that well, but, well, you WERE right there and all..."

"Oh, uh, yeah, of course," Odette replied. "Guess I gotta go dress shopping tomorrow, huh?"

"You... wear dresses?" The taller Eversor asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I am still a girl beneath my cold, hardened exterior, believe it or not."

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like-"

"Chill," Odette laughed as she waved the girl into silence. "I'm just playin' with you."

"Ah- Yeah," Mona laughed. "Um, hey, there is... one thing I wanted to ask you about. In private, if it's alright."

The one-eyed girl nodded and shrugged. "Sure, but I'm a bit booked right now, so just ask Holly for my number whenever you get the chance."

"Will do. And, uh, give her a good hit for me when you get in there, if you wouldn't mind."

"I'll make sure to," Odette replied, opening the door to the next wing. "Stay out of trouble, you kids."

The double doors slowly shut with a long, drawn out hiss. Mona let out a long, deep breath and craned her neck, leaning her head against the wall as she stared blankly at the ceiling. Her peace was interrupted in a matter of moments when she noticed the shorter Eversor staring up at her, a wide smirk plastered on her face.

"So," she started, sidling up to the taller girl, "what's this about talking in private, hm?"

"Y'know, Meg," Mona groaned, "usually when someone says they want to talk in private, that means they want it to be private."

The black-haired girl gently elbowed her companion in the side, saying, "Awww, come on. Ain't nothin' you can't tell me."

"God, fine. Just... training tips. Routines and stuff. That's all."

"Yer lyin' to me."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Mona sighed and rolled her eyes, leaning against her side of the hallway. She knew better than to feed the other girl ideas. Instead, she would let the silence speak for her. It was a new kind of anxiety that pressed her into secrecy. She wasn't entirely sure how to break it to her best friend that she - and she alone - had been approached to join the most prestigious group in the Seventeenth. Part of her still didn't quite believe it was true, while another part of her didn't even think herself worthy. Most of all, she didn't know if it was worth leaving her one and only friend - if such an honour was worth losing Meg Laurie, the first colleague who didn't see her as 'that spoiled rich girl'.

"Hehe," Meg chuckled, taking a sledgehammer to Mona's tranquil silence. "She thought we were lesbians."

"God damn it, Meg..."

✱✱✱

Nine identical doors numbered 901 to 909 lined the far wall of the Seventeenth's maximum security holding area, dubbed 'The Ninth Circle' by the girls. Odette stepped into the deserted corridor, the sound of her footsteps echoing throughout as her metal boots clanged against the marble floor. The hall was sparsely decorated, with only a handful of chairs along the near wall, with a container full of old magazines on either end. The one-eyed girl stared up at a solitary camera nested in one corner of the room.

"We good?" Odette asked.

"She's surprisingly well behaved," Holly answered through the room's PA. "Sitting nicely, cuffs still on. Head in whenever you're ready."

Odette nodded at the camera and took a deep breath. From under her long, black cloak, she produced her battered notepad, along with a sheaf of papers clipped together. She had always preferred analog notes over digital, when the situation allowed. As she went over her notes one last time, it struck her just little she'd written in her notepad since that fateful day two- no, a week shy of three months ago, she reminded herself.

After another breath to steady herself, she put on her professional face and opened the door to cell 901. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she could feel the familiar sense of weight and itching in her gums as the room robbed her of her magic. In the center of the room, behind a stainless steel table, sat Fennel Vance, showing Odette a smug grin that only made her want to punch it off the girl's stupid face. Her hair was still long and unkempt, but appeared somewhat better groomed than last they'd met. Odette had, however, not noticed how much the other girl's costume resembled an unbuckled straitjacket in their earlier meetings. It seemed so oddly fitting.

"Mornin' Vance," the one-eyed girl called out, twirling around her own chair to sit in it reverse, leaning forward over the back rest. "How are things?"

"I want my phone call," was the Wolf's only response, bemused grin still decorating her face.

"This isn't prison," Odette laughed, matching the girl's expression. "You don't get a phone call."

"Laaame."

"You didn't answer my question," the former Warmaster pressed. "How are you doing?"

"Booooored out of my miiiiind," Fennel drawled, leaning her chair back.

"If you cooperate, I can grab you a magazine on the way out."

The messy-haired girl smirked and let out a short snort of laughter. "Pretty sure they haven't been replaced since Brie kicked it."

"Quite possibly," Odette muttered as she reached under her cloak. "Quite possibly... Shall we get to business?"

"Well, I was trying to have a conversation, but SUUURE," Fennel grumbled, rolling her eyes and waving her hands in an exaggerated gesture, "let's do what YOU want to do."

"Good, good," the one-eyed girl replied, unphased, as she leaned back and pulled out her notepad. "Now, we have a vague idea of why you kidnapped these innocent girls. Something about this..."

"Blessed Lady."

"That's the one," Odette said, holding a pen to her notepad. "Elaborate."

Fennel blinked, then shook her head with a look of stern confusion. "What?" She asked, dead-pan. "That's... You're not even gonna threaten me? No intimidation? No yelling or rage? Just a 'Hey Fennel! How ya doin! So how's about that Blessed Lady, huh?' Like.. Seriously?"

"Would you rather I hurt you?"

"No, but like, I expected some kind of 'TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW OR I'LL DO'... some kind of unspeakable torture, I dunno," the messy-haired girl shrugged, "you fill in the blank."

"Not the type."

"I guess, but it's just... it's unnervi-" Fennel blinked as her eyes widened in sudden recognition. "Oh. OH. Oh, you're good."

Odette shrugged sheepishly, making a show of absorbing the praise. "I do my best," she replied. "Gets old, after all. Only so many ways I can tell people how I'll power down the room, give you a little cut, dig my finger in there and slowly freeze every vein in their body - incredibly excruciating, by the way - then call Fubey in so I can do it all over again."

"Right."

"Was that intimidating?" Odette asked, maintaining an unphased look. "I never know."

"Well-"

"Getting back to the Blessed Lady," the former Warmaster interrupted, redirecting the conversation. "Explain to me why you saw fit to kidnap eight- no, seven innocent girls."

"Eight. You're- You're, uh, forgetting yourself. You were right the first time."

"My mistake. Carry on."

"Right, um, okay," Fennel puffed up her cheeks and exhaled deeply. "Baiting the hook, essentially. You get it? Cause I used-"

"So you're saying... what?" Odette twirled her pen around, shaking her head. "I was the aim the whole time?"

The other girl pointed a finger from each of her hand-cuffed hands, grinning. "Bingo! Well," she corrected herself, "sort of. I mean, if they decided to call on the big B, then that's a win in our book."

"Why me?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Fennel replied, giggling. "I mean, think about it. Big churchy-culty thing, looking for the poor and the down-trodden. Big tough Warmaster suddenly dropped in the gutter. Makes sense, don't it? Who better to go after?"

"I see. Looks like you fucked that one up," Odette laughed.

"Sure does look that way, don't it?" Fennel replied, returning a laugh of her own.

"And where do those golden hooks fit in?"

A sly, wolfish smirk crept up the messy-haired girl's face as she listened to the question, answering, "Beats me. Can't say I rightly know either. Didn't seem all that special to me. I wouldn't think too hard about them."

"Is it getting a little chilly in here," Odette said with a cold smile, "or is it just me?"

"Hey, if you want to give them a look, feel free. They're," Fennel paused, thinking, "wherever you put them?"

"Maximum security vault."

"Vault, right. Yeah, don't just leave them lying around in the open. That might be a bad idea."

"I'll remember that," Odette replied, making a quick note.

It seemed too easy. It was more like a friendly - albeit tense - conversation than an interrogation. Fennel offered little to no resistance and seemed to be answering the questions to the best of her ability. It was perhaps worse than if she had resisted. This way, Odette couldn't be sure if she was telling the truth or making it up as she went. The Wolf knew the game just as well as she did; no doubt Fennel had put the screws to her share of captives over the years, as well.

Odette decided to stow her burning curiosity for the sake of staying on track. Once again, she reached under her cloak, this time pulling out a wrinkled, flattened sheet of paper - the same one that had been found in her apartment two prior. She slid it across the steel table, watching as the other girl cocked a curious eyebrow.

"The night I first saw you, my apartment was broken into. We found this waiting for me. Care to explain?"

Fennel picked it up with both hand-cuffed hands and examined it closely, squinting and turning it this way and that. Finally satisfied, she placed it back on the table and nodded.

"I believe, and this is just my own personal opinion," she said, "that this is a message."

"Why did you write it?" Odette growled, her patience starting wear away.

Fennel's cheeks puffed up as she tried to maintain her composure. "You- You think I wrote this?" Fennel asked, slapping a hand on the table as her roaring laughter slipped free. "You- Oh god. Oh that's just rich. Listen, Odette. Can I call you Odette? I'll call you Odette," she waved her hands and spoke between fits of giggling. "I tried the whole 'Teehee! I'll carve out your skull with melon-baller!' routine, I really did. It just- It's not ME, y'know? Some people can pull it off, but not me."

"Then who?"

"Hell if I know!" The messy-haired girl answered. "One of the higher-ups or someone!"

Odette blinked. "Higher-ups?"

"In the Church," Fennel answered. "What, you think I've been doing this ALONE? Come on, Brighton! Think a little!"

Putting a pen to her notepad, the silver-haired girl narrowed her eyes. "Names?"

"None under your jurisdiction."

"Indulge me."

Fennel let out a long, strained breath, rocking back in her chair. "Let's see... Main contact is a chick that goes by Daedalus. The Architect. She's the one who gave me the note. Probably wrote it, too," she leaned over the table, gesturing with her hand as she spoke. "Real hoity-toity sort. Got them big long curls, blue ribbons in her hair, big fan of tea. You know the type. I'm, like, ninety percent sure she's ex-Eighth, but she sounds English or some shit. So who knows?"

"So she's one of the people in charge," Odette asked, "this 'Daedalus'?"

"Nah, nah. Word is she did some big favour for someone important," Fennel shrugged. "I don't know. I stay out of the loop as much as I can. They're all pretty fuckin' loopy over there. 'Golden Land' this, 'Chosen Ones' that. Devoted as I may be, that ain't exactly my scene, y'understand?"

The one-eyed girl nodded, jotting down notes. Holly was already recording all of it - and probably already had enough leads to book her schedule for next month - but taking personal notes was something that had been ingrained in Odette's mind from day one. It seemed, for the time being, that there wasn't anything left to ask, aside from the one, golden question.

"So," Odette started, folding her hands over the backrest of her chair, "I think we both know what I'm going to ask next. You want to fill in the blank for me?"

Fennel chuckled. Three, poignant laughs, as though she had been working from a script. Odette could immediately tell that she had been looking forward to the moment.

"Why have I been telling you all of this so easily."

"Bingo."

The messy-haired girl smiled to herself - a smug grin that made Odette just want to punch it right off of her face. "Two reasons. Two simple reasons. One, I enjoy toying with you, but I assume you've already gathered that-"

"I have."

"-and two," Fennel's face darkened as her grin grew imperceptibly more sinister, "it doesn't matter. In the time it would take you to reach Daedalus, I'll be out of here, you'll be long dead and there won't be anyone left to go after us."

Odette eyed the other girl. She was hoping to find some sign that she was bluffing, that Fennel had just let everything slip and was scrabbling to cover up her mistakes. Instead, she found nothing but cold certainty in the Wolf's face. Odette snapped her notepad shut and shoved it back under her cloak as she made to get up.

"I think we're done here," she said. "See you in a couple days."

Fennel smirked and gave a delicate, mocking wave good-bye. "Ta-ta, Odette~"

As she tucked her chair in, a stray thought crossed the one-eyed girl's mind. It was juvenile and malicious, but worth it. One final statement to get the last laugh.

"Hey, kid, one thing before I go," said Odette, smirking as she turned around. "If you're planning on getting out, you might want to pick something other than 'the Wolf'. It's rude to take someone else's name."

All at once, Fennel's face twisted into a vicious snarl as she opened her mouth to yell. Then, as if on cue, Odette's cell phone rang, loudly echoing through the cramped room. The silver-haired girl held up a finger to silence the 'Wolf', not even bothering to turn around and face her. Checking the call display, Odette recognized Holly's number instantly.

"Yo," she greeted the Vanus.

"Hey, uh, just a heads up," Holly said nervously, "you've got some company waiting right outside."

Odette cocked an eyebrow. "Who? If Lotte came to visit me at work, I swear-"

"Nah, it's... Well, you'll see."

"Vague and mysterious, thanks," the Eversor grumbled. "You get enough data?"

Holly grunted in acknowledgement. "It'll take me a bit to analyze all this. I'll have something by tomorrow."

Odette nodded and the two said their good byes. As the door unlocked with the heavy thunk of numerous tumblers, she couldn't help but get excited for a brief moment. Perhaps it could be just Therese or someone else she had forgotten to visit after her recovery. It was then, as the door hissed open, that the realization struck her. The Seventh was visiting. That could only mean-

"Aiiiyah!" A voice screeched from across the hall. "This not how you treat guests! Stupid Crow tell me to come all way down to smelly basement and you KEEP ME WAITING?!"