Chapter 5: Taking a Risk

• 𓎬 ☼ 𓋹⋅☾𓂀 ☽⋅𓋹 ☼ 𓎬 •

Larry XXVII

2014 - New York City

A Day after the Night Programme Disaster

When they got back late in the night to their apartment, Larry and Rebecca were met with a party. A party which Nick decided to host out of the blue.

Larry now realised as to why his son didn't want to go to the Museum Event tonight, using the whole night as a way to take advantage of the apartment. Nevertheless, it didn't work since the two adults got back earlier than they were expecting. McPhee had screamed at him through the phone before they unlocked the door to find dozens of teenagers raving in their living room.

He was not impressed with Nick at all - who he found riling the people up with the DJ mixer and the sound of music blasting through the large speakers. The island was littered with alcoholic drinks and red cups. Some bowls of snacks and sweets scattered from the coffee table to the floor.

It was a mess.

Another mess which Larry was not going to have a deal with to clean up.

The first thing he did was tell Nick to turn off the music. The next thing he knew, Larry was telling everyone to get out and go home. As much as he was worried at some of the teenagers going home, Larry was tired, irritated and not in the mood for taking responsibility with other kids. He already had the museum to deal with.

His son didn't even help at all, only frustrating both him and Rebecca for revealing that he hadn't applied for college at all. Nick wanted to take a gap year, to go and DJ in Ibiza out of all places. Larry thought he raised his son better than this. He thought that after being at the museum as the Night Programme Coordinator and stable income to help his family, Nick would have gone to university and finally pursue a future that wasn't like his own.

Larry wasn't going to have this conversation, telling Nick to start cleaning up whilst Rebecca and he would go to sleep. His son was quiet about it.

Several hours later, when the sun rose and the weekend began, Larry trudged into the kitchen to discover Rebecca beginning breakfast. He placed a peck on her cheek, mumbling a quick morning before flicking the coffee machine on the way to the island.

His head would have hit the surface hadn't he caught it with his hands. Larry yawned, rubbing his face with a disgruntled gesture.

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, before approaching him at the table. "Morning, you okay?" She asked with a concerned tone.

"The fact that our job is on the line..." He sighed and thanked her for passing the mug. Larry shook his head and murmured, "I really don't know anymore."

"There must be someone that we could go to." Rebecca urged him, exhaling sharply. "We can't just wait for Rowen to respond to us and get back."

"Who then? He asked back, "No one knows the truth other than us and McPhee. And he's already having most of the backlash thrown at him."

"...You know who I'm talking about." She replied as she bit her lip.

He creased his eyebrows, trying to line his mind to what she was referring to.

Suddenly, Larry froze.

He then quickly turned to her with a gawking expression.

Rebecca didn't bat an eye.

"Him?" He gave her a double-take. He stammered, "You mean..."

His fiancee raised an eyebrow and said, "Who else am I referring to?"

Larry hissed, burning his tongue at the hot coffee. After he blew and took a sip, he answered back. "That's taking a big risk, Becca." He continued, "He's part of the cult that wants the tablet; what if we're playing into his trap?"

"You said that he hasn't been in contact with them for decades." She argued back. "I'm sure they wouldn't be monitoring him."

"You just jinxed it." Larry snorted, sending a side grin back at her.

Rolling her eyes, Rebecca went back to frying the eggs in the pan. The scent of food gave Larry a mix of ease and nausea, the latter due to the number of drinks he's had last night after Nick and Rebecca went to bed.

He already thought about the whole situation a few hours ago. He couldn't sleep: with most of his mind still reeling in what happened. The exhibits going 'crazy' wouldn't be the best way to describe. And describing the exhibits being 'feral' made Larry's back curl in discomfort. But he could still feel the head of the gun aimed at him, Teddy's confused and stern face at him. Even seeing Attila and the Huns breaking and destroying the tables and decorations made him wince at the sound of glasses shattering. Dexter almost stabbing someone with a kebab stick...

The recurring moments of the Planetarium only triggered what Larry had been dreaming for the past six months. The voices in his head telling him things; things about the gods and mythology of Egypt. His shared experience of being this woman thousand of years ago. The screams of people in his head almost had the same tone as what the woman in his dreams had.

Maybe they were all linked together. His weird dreams, the tablet corroding - and only one other person seems to probably know more was Cecil Fredricks himself. The former night guard has been with the tablet ever since it came to New York, so it was appropriate to assume he would have known anything else that's happened to it. Has it corroded before? If so, how did they fix it?

But then his rational side told Larry that going to Cecil to try and gain some information would lead to risking him with this secret organisation. It had been years since he'd last saw the elderly man and didn't really know what he's been doing between the times of him being bailed out of jail and going to the care home he now lived in. Does he still remember Larry all this time? And would Cecil's alliance still be with the people looking for the tablet?

"Larry."

He blinked several times before fixating his eyes to hers.

Larry opened his mouth to speak, but the moment he began - he spotted a figure walk past the corridor. He was glad it was the weekend anyway, but it also meant Nick looked to be staying at home. Rebecca stayed quiet as well, the two waiting for his son to pass. They then heard a door shut close, hearing the shower turn on in the bathroom.

Rebecca gave him a worried glance, quietly speaking. "If this...organisation is dangerous, then the government should have already known about it surely?"

He took another breath and stretched, hitting his back on the seat. Rebecca had a point. Maybe they could alert the FBI or the authorities about it, maybe call it a group of terrorists.

'But you don't have any evidence if they're going to potentially hurt people. You can't just call them up and say: 'Hey, so these bunch of people have been working underground was thousands of years and might use magic to reign terror people! They'll totally believe that!'' Larry chortled in his head. 'And if they did, they might think we're a threat or the tablet might be a threat! Ahk and Rowen aren't going to be happy at all if the government takes it away. Hell, the museum won't like it at all!'

He would be risking the museum as well. More importantly: Ahkmenrah and Rowena. Larry remembered from five years back, Khafre telling him and Rowen that they were Heka Guardians and that Nephthys chose him apparently. After they threw that asshole back into the underworld, he, Ahkmenrah and Rowen began their research for anything about Heka Guardians.

However, nothing seemed to mention anything to do with it. And only Heka was referred to as one of the Egyptian Goddesses.

Rebecca didn't understand the danger he would be putting them all in. He would be risking her and Nicky because of him. 'Or maybe she does,' Larry thought. 'And maybe it is the best way.' He was fighting between his mind and heart, not knowing which one was the best.

Even then, how could they find who the enemy was? Larry remembered from Rowena that being a spy meant trying to blend into the crowd - hiding in plain sight. Thousands of years, they might as well as established their own underground network.

"What if they've grown, and they've somehow integrated with life?" He wondered, shaking his head in his hands. "This is messed up....I-I just can't risk it."

Rebecca pursed her lips with thought. After turning the hob off and plating the food on a large platter, she rushed out of the main kitchen and living room. He furrowed his eyebrows. Where did she go? Shrugging it off, he set the island table for breakfast with some plates and cutlery and began taking some eggs, bacon and toast onto his plate. Just as he sat down, the historian returned - with a beige file in her hand.

"Then visit him with this," Rebecca said, handing it to him across the table.

Taking it, he skimmed over the front of the cover and saw a set of initials stamped on the top of the file. Cecil Fredricks' files more specifically.

Larry looked up to her and asked, "Why do you have this?"

She shrugged and explained, "It was left along with Gus and Reginald's files; legal stuff and all. Richard-"

"McPhee." Larry pointed.

"I think we both passed calling him McPhee." She gave him an amused look.

After what happened last night, Larry knew he wasn't going to calling the Director by their first name basis. He answered, "I'm not calling him Richard. Just...no."

"As I was saying," Rebecca focused him back to the subject, and told him: "Just say they're the last of his documents after working at the museum. You want to just visit him and talk how he's doing for the past few years. You'll think of the details I assure you."

Larry groaned and shut the cover of the folder. "This is going to be harder than sneaking into the Smithsonian."

A snort came out from her, making Larry give her a double look. Rebecca said, "From what I heard from that fiasco, you and Rowen didn't really have a plan."

"Well you know us Daleys, we literally go in with a blind eye." He said smugly, earning a quick whack on the shoulder.

Rebecca sighed and went to sit on one of the chairs. "And I'll be marrying a Daley soon enough." Just in time, his son entered the room - and the topic about the Cecil was put aside.

• 𓎬 ☼ 𓋹⋅☾𓂀 ☽⋅𓋹 ☼ 𓎬 •

He had a plan.

Sort of.

It took the rest of the weekend to sort out, especially when it came to constantly try his best to call Rowen halfway across the world and discuss how they'll get Ahkmenrah through to the British Museum. Apparently, her close friendship with the American Board of Directors (most important the Chairwoman herself) gave clear access for Ahkmenrah to go to the UK as part of a conservation project. They would be leaving in a couple of days, giving time for the exhibits and Rebecca to prepare.

As for him, just three days later after his conversation with his fiancee: Larry did do what she suggested.

He stood in front of the doors of the elderly home. It had been seven years since he's last stepped foot in this place. That was when he first visited the three former night guards after they got bailed out.

'Okay, Larry.' He told himself as he opened the doors and walked in. '

The young woman behind the desk saw him walk up as he gave her a kind smile. "Hello, I'm here to meet Cecil Fredricks." He raised the files from his bag and she nodded.

"Oh yes, you must be Dr McPhee." She replied as she stood. "Please follow me."

Larry followed hastily behind her, a quick glance from every shoulder as they walked down the corridor. Everything was eerily clean, with some vases and plants on the side and paintings hanging upon the walls.

The receptionist stood in front of one of the doors and told him to wait. He then heard a muffled voice coming from the room.

"Hello Cecil, Dr McPhee is here." The receptionist called from the opened door, sparing a quick look at him.

Larry flashed a smile, ignoring the heat of his body rising.

"Let him in." 

He barely heard before the recpetionist opened the door for him.

"Thanks." Larry tilted his head before he slipped into the lion's den...

...If you called the lion's den a perfectly cosy bedroom.

It was spacious, with white walls and ornaments decorating the sides. There was a neatly tidied bed, a dresser and chair. By the large window was a set of armchairs and a table. Standing by one of the chairs was the former night guard himself.

Even in eight years, the man in front of him seemed to have aged for twenty more years. More wrinkles dotted his face, with tired wide eyes. He wore a jumper despite the sun shining through the window, and trousers that showed his tall height. Overall, Larry could tell by his straightened posture that Cecil Fredricks still had his youthful mentality.

"Now you are not Dr McPhee... unless he's coming later." It was the first thing Cecil said, raising his eyebrow.

Larry stayed silent.

Cecil blatantly answered, "But by your face, I assume it's just you."

He stiffly replied. "You are correct."

"Please, have a seat." The older man gestured to the armchair opposite and then pointed at the tea set on the table. "Tea? Coffee?"

He shook his head. "No thanks." 

Cecil was the first one to sit down, never leaving his eyes off Larry as he settled himself down. There was an awkward silent between the two, though by how he saw him - Larry knew Cecil was studying him. Those blue/grey eyes that made the hairs on the back of Larry's neck stand.

"It has been quite a time since we've met." Cecil broke the silence and Larry hummed.

"Yeah, I've been busy." Larry said, fiddling his fingers on the corner of the files he held. "Eight years."

"Yes. Eight years." He agreed, and commented. "Time does fly when you're now living in a care home. It must be the speed of light in your sort of life."

"Yeah...A lot of things have happened." Larry tried to be plain as possible, averting his eyes.

However, Cecil somehow knew what he was talking about.

"Indeed. I saw." Cecil stated, and curted his chin.

It would seem everyone in New York knew about the Hayden Planetarium disaster. 'I mean, your name is plastered in every news channel and paper.' Larry grumbled to himself.

Nervously, Larry tried not to twitch his lips. "Oh...wow. I forgot it was on TV."

"Hmm."

Cecil's humming broke Larry from his thoughtful trance. He said, "So you know why I'm here then."

There was darkened tone in Cecil's voice. "What you've done today is risk yourself and every single friend that you have involved with it." He warned, "You have made a made a mistake coming to me."

Larry bit back a retort, and carefully began: "Yes, it was a risk but-"

"And you still did? Why?" Cecil pried.

"Because you and I both know that you know what's probably going on!" Larry blurted and he didn't notice that his voice grew louder. 

The man in front didn't seem fazed, though appeared amused.

Larry sighed, and placed the files down onto the table. "Look, I'm not here to threaten you. I want to just ask some questions and I'll be on my way."

"Why didn't you ask her?" Cecil questioned, and then slowly spoke: "...Unless she didn't tell you?"

Larry didn't respond.

'Wait, Rowen's visited Cecil? When?' He asked. 'But...if she did: why didn't she-she tell me? Or anyone else?' Larry pursed his lips and frowned. 

In the back of his head, there was the mature side of him that he could understand why Rowen hadn't said anything. They were already in danger, so telling more people could have risked all of them. 

Though the personal side of Larry felt betrayed. He thought that he was close to the immortal woman. He practically spent the past eight years with her, the exhibits and Rebecca. It only took six months of working together that Rowen Bates revealed the truth to him. A secret that she rarely shared with anyone for her entirely life. Larry shouldn't feel jealous, but meeting with Cecil felt like he should be involved with.

So why didn't she tell him? Did she tell Ahkmenrah about it? Their lives were intertwined by one thing, and that was the tablet. So it made sensed that Rowen should have told him.

"She didn't then...I am not surprised." Cecil drawled, and folded his arms.

A flicker of anger appeared in Larry as he narrowed his eyes at him. Even what Rowen had done worried Larry, anyone insulting his dearest friend made him blood boil. He assured himself that Rowen had a purpose.

"What are you talking about?" Larry impatiently asked.

"Four years ago, she came to visit me. She asked about my place and what my...organisation did." Cecil explained, "She asked me the details of any names or any indication about the artefacts involved such as the Wadjet key and the Guardians."

He continued for him to speak.

"Unfortunately I only briefly explained to her what the Order had." The older man finished.

Larry straightened his back and asked back, "Care to enlighten me?"

"They are called the Order of Snakes." Cecil revealed, a ragged breath escaping his mouth. "Believed to worship Set - the god of war, chaos and storms. They are also known nowadays as the Saqqara Historical Antiquitties Company. S.H.A for short."

'Nice name,' Larry thought. 'Never really heard of it before. Probably Becca has...'

"So this...Order." Larry discussed, "You said they want the tablet and her Wadjet key. For what?"

"...I cannot say."

Larry wondered, "Because you can't or you don't know?"

"Look Larry." Cecil began. "The years have never been kind to me, despite all this comfort. All of this...it's just a mirage. I am living in a cage, a cage that you will never get out of. They did things I never would have imagined. Not magic. No...much worse."

Larry watched him unsure as Cecil turned around, showing the back of him. The former night guard lowered the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck.

Tattooed on the back of his neck was some sort of symbol. An animal of sorts. He had never seen something like it before. But by the looks of it: it made Larry flinch and the back of his own neck tingle.

Cecil turned back around and continued. "They took away my choice, the choice to live an ordinary life." He rubbed the same place he showed. "This tattoo, the Serpent and the Sha are symbols associating with the Order. It shows my loyalty and my place. That I am...a servant to them."

"A Slave."

"Is that what you think I am?" Cecil quirked an eyebrow.

"Well yes, you were asked at first and it seemed tempting at that time." He said. "But now, they won't let you out. They're forcing you."

By how Cecil tilted his head to the side, a smile rose up his lips, Larry saw the answer on his face.

"...Do you know why I first offered you the job as night guard?" Cecil questioned him.

Okay, that wasn't the question Larry suspected.

"Well a lot of things." He said nonchalantly, trying to seem calm. But on the inside, his heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. "I was naive, desperate and probably weak."

"Well I couldn't put it into better words." Cecil quirked his lips in fondness. "But no. You reminded me of my relationship with my father. He wasn't the best father to begin with... But he took care of me despite my mother passing away when I was very young."

Cecil took another breath. "He took me everywhere; went to Egypt obviously and offered me the job at the museum. But that was all he could give me. He gave me what he wanted for his own likes. He never asked what I liked, what I didn't like. He never gave me the choice to be who I was. I wanted to become an entrepreneur - ironically. And then I stumbled upon them."

Larry shuffled closer, leaning in.

The former night guard shook his head, a tired look almost showing how truly his age was. "I was naive; I was desperate too. All because I wanted to prove to someone that I could be better." Cecil glanced at him and continued, "And I know you wanted to prove to your son that you can be the best of your own self."

"You can still change." Larry softly said, a hint of urge in him.

He wasn't sure why he was certain. All Cecil's done for the past few years was sit here and do nothing. He hadn't changed his ways. He hadn't given them anything willingly such as names or hints. Cecil had used the last of his years in his own bubble, with no care what's happening in the outside world.

Maybe he was a selfish and careless man Rowena coldly spoke about. But even then, Cecil wasn't evil. Yes, he did things that hurt people but he hasn't killed anyone. Not to Larry's knowledge.

But his grandfather once told him that you shouldn't judge anyone by one thing. The same person who became best friends with Rowen Bates.

Cecil stared at him as he replied, "I already have." He then held out a slip of paper. "Here-"

He took the paper and furrowed his brows. "What is it?"

"The titles of each leader. Circled are the top ones." He pointed.

They stood up simultaneously, and quite quickly by how Larry forcefully pushed the chair away. He told himself once more to calm down, but the growing adrenaline made him forget the be rational. Larry glanced down at the names scribbled on.

The Lion - the Head, Africa

The Jackal - North America.

The Scarab - Europe

The Hyena - Asia

The Crocodile - Oceana

The Vulture - South America

"How did you hold it?" Larry asked quickly.

He turned to him and muttered, "Apparently...there is more than what the Wadjet Guardian can do."

Larry didn't have time to think and quickly questioned again: "So the Tablet. I need to know how much in danger-"

"I believe it's time  for you to go." Cecil sternly said, stressing his words as he nudged his chin.

"Wait-"

"Last piece of advice: you should never have come near me." A flash of worry (or is that panic?) formed on Cecil. "They have found you."

Larry reacted, "What? Them?"

The Order...

How did Cecil know-

Larry then spotted Cecil rubbing the back of his neck rather uncomfortably. It would seem that was how he could sense them arriving.

"You and your ideas, Daley." Cecil gave him a wry smile that reached his eyes. "One day it will get someone killed. Worse of all it would be yourself."

"No. I'm not letting you to them." Larry firmly stated. "We can help you. Rowen will."

He shook his head, "No one can help me anymore, son."

Larry creased his eyebrows, frustrated. Why was Cecil being so stubborn?

"If I go with you, they will find you. All you can do is take the tablet as far from New York. They are trying to do something." He answered.

Sliding the windows open, Cecil leaned out to pan his surroundings before he glanced over his shoulder.

There was a knock on the door.

"Cecil? Are you in there?"

Larry's breath paused. 

"You have another visitor."

They were already here; they found him.

His thoughts could only be broken by Cecil's exasperated sound, pulling him towards the window. When Larry gazed down, he noticed that there were vines growing over the walls of the building. As Larry now realised what the old night guard meant, he gawked back before the old man rolled his eyes.

He took another gulp. This wasn't what Larry was expecting to do at all. 

'But would you rather get captured and killed by the Order?' He asked himself, before slinging his leg out and placed it onto the thick branches.

Once he got balance on the platform, Larry turned to face him - hinting one last plead for Cecil to come with him.

"Cecil."

"I plead you, Larry." A begging tone cracked in his voice. Cecil said, "Take the Tablet away. I will buy you time."

"No-"

He stared at him, sadness naked in Cecil's eyes. 

"I am sorry that this might be the last time I will see you." He spoke, placing his shaking hand over Larry's shoulder. "You are a good man, Larry Daley."

Larry was at loss of words.

Cecil wrasped out, whispering back: "And...I only ask you to tell her that I'm sorry for what I have done."

Larry hesitated, and opened his mouth to muster up another excuse.

"Go." Cecil said firmly.

He nodded back, before descending the vines down the building. Once Larry made it to the ground, he wobbled slightly and realised how much his legs and arms were shaking. He wasn't sure if it was the fear of climbing or the situation that now rested on the man inside that room. Larry never glanced up as he ran straight into the line of trees and houses. 

However, something made him turn around.

Larry looked over his shoulder, and sensed his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. Parked beside the care home were two black cars. And exiting out of the doors were several figures all wearing suits.

He wanted to go back, to warn Cecil. But he reminded himself what the man said to him. So with a mental kick to himself: Larry left with a guilt heavy in his soul.

• 𓎬 ☼ 𓋹⋅☾𓂀 ☽⋅𓋹 ☼ 𓎬 •

Kai I

2014 - New York City

WARNING: Minor Death Scene. No mentions of blood.

When Kai Winterson grew up, he always wanted to be a historian.

His mother was a curator at the Metropolitan Museum and his father was an aspiring historian as well, who mainly focused on politics and the history of governance. They used to take him to the museum on the weekends, always explaining to him stories of past lives and the cultures the once had. They talked about the ancient civilisations, how society and cities came to be. How governments and power began to exist and take hold - to make order and peace between people.

Though power and freedom always felt to be an intense subject to talk about between his parents once he was old enough to speak of his mind. They would bicker and argue, always ending up with Kai crying due to the shouting. His father would tell her off for coddling him too much.

Those arguments became into full fights. Kai didn't remember these parts of his life, but one moment he and his family were about to go to sleep, the next: he woke up to his father breaking every photo of his mother in their house.

From then on: Kai's life changed. There were no day trips or holidays anymore. His initiation at sixteen years old came - the youngest member ever - and was told to spy and bring intel in. Even if it was the tiniest bit about an order member making a mistake or any opportunities to persuade a someone to join. Kai followed them like a lamb.

Until he met Cecil Fredricks. He was still working at the museum when they met. It was the first ever meeting in regards to the tablet. Kai was tasked to make sure Cecil brought the tablet in without anyone knowing it was them. Their first interaction

Clapping his hands, Cecil wore a smile on his face. "Good afternoon gentlemen, now what do I owe you the pleasure?"

Kai stood back, nodding at Cecil as he shook hands with his father. The rest of the people with them scattered around the room, standing firmly in the perimeter as the silently waited. All wore their suits, with shades on their noses whilst Kai and his father had worn their own tailored suits with no sunglasses.

"As my apprentice, you will watch what I do. Learn our ways." His father said to him the first time he took Kai to his work. "You will stay quiet and watch behind me. Is that clear?"

Oh, how wrong Kai was those years ago.

He regretted never saying anything. Too afraid to defy his father ever since his mother left them. Years spent having to watch red spill and people manipulated. They then hid what they do with money, wearing fancy suits and living in luxury. The movies always made it so cool. With the Mafia and such. But this?

Kai wore his suit like a shield. Both mentally and physically. Mostly mentally. He hated having a dirty suit after a 'job' and would burn the previous one instead of cleaning it. He would never want to see the same suit that he wore after sending someone to their grave.

He still had morals...or some kind left.

He watched them exchange gestures, before his father acclaimed, "Cecil. It is good to see you again. Though I wished it was for better circumstances."

"Oh, I beg to differ. I'm having a lovely time here. I've been taken care of. I have my dearest friends here as well." The former night guard told them, plastering another fake smile back at them.

"That's nice to hear. I'm glad your retirement has fitted you well." "You must have thanked Mr Daley for suggesting this place. I heard it has a lot of history with the Daley family."

"Since you've visited in person, I'm assuming it's something important."

"Indeed. Your...plans for the Tablet has been successful." "It has been completed just a couple of months ago in Luxor and it'll be shipped here in a few weeks time. On it's way to Washington as we speak."

Cecil laughed harshly, "You seriously think it will work?" He then quietened down. "Apologies. Don't get me wrong. I have absolute faith in you, but you must realise: the tablet is one of a kind. Nothing can replace something just like that."

He could feel his father's anger radiate next to him. But Ian didn't show it.

Ian questioned him, "So you must have heard about the other one then? The tablet that has begun to corrode due to the loss of power...or perhaps contamination."

Kai saw the hesitation in Cecil's eyes.

That was all Ian needed.

Shaking his head, Cecil answered back, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're confused. You don't know who's side you're on." Ian stated.

He realised what his father was doing. He was trying to catch Cecil out, even if Ian knew it already the answers.

"I always sided with you," Cecil spoke boldly. "I have always been loyal to you, to the Order."

"Had." "We don't deal with traitors in our order, especially ones that have mixed with the magic of the guardians themselves. I always wondered why you could touch it."

"The ritual went wrong." The older man shrugged his shoulder, but his eyes darted away.

Kai mentally shouted to him. 'For fucks sake...'

His father's voice lowered and in a threatening tone, Ian answered: "The ritual never lies. A Guardian has protected you." He interrogated, "Was it the Wadjet Keyholder?"

A second too late, Kai saw Cecil's eyes flash at the name.

'No...no, no, no!' Kai wanted to strangle the old man. 'What are you doing?!'

"Maybe." Cecil snapped. "I don't know!"

"I am not the Scarab. And I'm not the Jackal that you met fifty years ago." Taking a step forward, his father lifted his head, seeing the flash of fear shown in Cecil's face. "Set has given us his blessing, and we need one thing from you to complete the Tablet."

Kai's heart grew cold as his stomach churned in earnest.

He didn't want to watch this. Even at his age and position, he should be alright with seeing death right in front of him. But this. This was wrong. Cecil had done nothing but comply and do what he was told. And one little mistake; one slip up: had sent an old man to his death.

Kai held his breath and counted to ten in his head, just like his mother told him. A way for him to get to sleep.

Just before he realised his mother left.

"What," Cecil asked.

Ian said simply, "Your heart."

Arm raised, Kai saw the handgun that was pointed at Cecil. The gun at his head. Kai began to panic.

Cecil told him, a warning tone, "You know this will end badly for you."

Ian didn't comment.

"For both sides of this...war, you're planning." He spoke, a sly smile resting on him. "It won't work. Even with my blood and removing my existence, it won't match them."

His father asked politely, "And why may that be?"

Nothing came from Cecil's mouth - only a glint of mischief in his blue eyes.

Cecil's time was gone. And too soon. Kai wanted to push his father to the side before it was too late.

But he didn't.

There was a click.

Ian's finger edged on the trigger.

'No-'

When the gun was shot, and the body slumped onto the floor: he didn't blink an eye.

His head didn't flinch. Too many years watching bodies die. Sometimes at his hand or other people's. He felt like he was suffocating again and he could not bear to move his eyes down to the floor where Cecil laid.

Another person was dead. All because they defied the Order.

Kai swallowed the bile down his throat and his nerves from his father. As his father, turned to him and eyed him with a quick nod, Kai followed and stayed behind to take a watch of the rest of the people with them.

The cleanup crew began decontaminating the room, removing any evidence that Cecil even existed in the care home. As the three men did this, Kai waited for his father to disappear into the corridor - probably to brainwash the rest of the staff. The usual procedures they had to do whenever they tracked down anyone against them.

Whilst the did clean, Kai finally had the confidence to move towards Cecil. When he did, Kai felt something go down his spine as his body went numb.

Blue unnerving eyes stared up at him. Kai sensed something trickle down his cheeks and carefully wiped the tears as subtly as possible. He wanted to cry. He really did. Hell, Kai would've pulled out his gun and shot his father hadn't anyone else was with him.

However, Kai knew that he was better alive than dead. But to the expense of the man that helped him get out of the Order and helped him find the truth of his mother? Cecil Fredricks meant more to Kai then anyone else, having understood what it felt to be in the Order and wanting to get away more than anything. He was the man that trusted him, who saw a way out of the Order. Now he was gone.

'I'm sorry.' He said in his head. 

Kai let out a strangled breath before shakily closing Cecil's eyelids. 

'But I'll do this. I'll make sure we do this.' He stood up and dusted his trousers off.

Just as the whole room was cleared along with Cecil's body, Kai analysed the room. Everything seemed immaculate and no indication of life. Though as he decided to walk out and meet with his father, Kai paused in his steps.

Sticking out of one of the cushions of the bed was a small white object. Kai searched his surroundings, checking if anyone was around before taking the piece of paper out of the bed. He slipped it into his pocket and continued his way out of the room.

• 𓎬 ☼ 𓋹⋅☾𓂀 ☽⋅𓋹 ☼ 𓎬 •

Larry XXVII

2014 - New York City

Larry was shaken the moment he called the elderly home where Cecil lived.

"I'm sorry sir," The receptionist's voice flowed into his ears. "There isn't anyone called Cecil here."

He gulped.

Larry asked again, "Are you sure? I actually was there yesterday."

There was another pause. "No, sorry sir. You don't seem to be in our system." The woman's voice was certain. "And usually, we have a data sheet for anyone who comes in and out."

After he thanked her and hung up the call, Larry's hand went numb.

There was sound of an object shattering on the ground.

Cecil was either gone...

Or dead.

Larry hoped it was not the latter. Because he knew he would never forgive himself leaving him at that place. All he could do now was promise the man that he would send the tablet far from New York.

____

A/N: So I guess this is our first death in Mors Vincit Omnia. This was more explicit than what I was hoping for initially, but I think it gave his death justice.

Cecil's death is going to be the turning point and the spark that would begin the large plot. He has been really the plot fuel that I've used which is strange. He's a fickle character to write about, especially you never really knew what allegiance he was in. He cared for Larry but he also cared for himself as well as Kai.

God I shouldn't have made a complicated character. xD

Anyways, writing Larry crying and experiencing this at the same time really hurts me. :,( I'm just glad Rebecca and Nick are with him throughout.

Next chapter is going to be a big jump. And we're going to where the Queen lives. ;)

____

Written: 18/09/2020

Edited: 18/09/2020