"Victor" Alex's voice was silky smooth, chilling to the brain, and had a soft French accent which left some to wonder where his genetics had come from. His right hand trailed against the raven tile wall as his left hand held his thick book at chest-height. His apricot colored eyes darted back and forth as he read the ancient, forgotten language.

"Class is over, Victor. Please follow me to the Fenrir Cafe." As he spoke his eyes never missed a second of reading the beige pages. He reached the last word of the right page and lifted his right hand. His fingers hovered about three inches from the right page as he curled his fingers inward starting from the pinkie and ending at the index. The page flipped slowly and carefully and he resumed reading. The Cafe was only five minutes away.

When he arrived he marked his page with a scarlet ribbon, closed the book, and set it down on it's back upon the crimson and midnight mixture table. His left hand lazily swooped to the right and his four-legged chair scooted from under the table nearly silently. The silent man sat down and placed his hands in his lap, awaiting Victor.

"Class is over..." Such foolishness, that sentence. At least in his eyes, to his ears, they were. To him, class was never over, never done with, for life itself was a learning process in which one constantly trained the mind, gaining knowledge from observation, experimentation, trial and error. Even the simple task of eating is an experiment starting with the preparation of the food. Observation using the sense of taste when one delves into the experiment of actually eating. The intended results are, of course, finishing the meal with at least contentment and a full stomach. It was at the arrival of this thought that Victor realized his mind swept off into another rant and explanation to himself about nothing important, something that happened quite often.

Lifting himself from his seat slowly, his bleached white lab coat which he always wore draped down, ending just under his knees. Why constantly wear such apparel? Maybe justifying to himself, or a simple and quick sign to others that he was indeed a scientist. Some may label him mad but their ignorance is only surpassed by their sheer stupidity. Quickly, after sliding his seat under his desk, Victor made for the cafe which was a simple hop-skip-and jump down the hall offering convenience as well as annoyance. 'A blessing and a curse' so-to-speak. Luckily, his private office was secluded, away from the mass of white noise that filled the air.

The tall, slender man arrived at the table his colleague had seated himself at and hovered above him for several seconds, his eyes hidden behind the lenses of his glasses which at this point reflected enough light to conceal his eyes, giving the appearance his face was concealed in shadows with two large orbs floating within it. "You will refrain from using my forename, and henceforth shall address me as Dr. Kervorkian... lest I take a 'scientific interest' in you personally" His words were spoken in a very condescending way, each word laced with malicious intent with the end of his sentence sounding more like a threat than anything. Pale digits gripped the chair opposite of the other and slid it backwards from it's place slowly, enough so that he could sit down. Using his middle finger upon his right hand, he pushed his glasses back into place and examined in detail the man before him, dark auburn eyes gazing, curiosity overflowing within them.

"You are still the same man you were years ago...Dr. Kervorkian" His lips moved soundlessly, yet the mysticism carried his voice from the man’s mouth and into the awaiting ear of the malicious scientist.

"We have another mission that us two, alone, will be required to handle. This mission is to happen tomorrow at noon. Verbal communications shall be canceled at this point in time, and we shall speak via telepathic communications or otherwise transmissions." Everything to the two went silent, and the hostess closed the curtains to give the two high officials privacy.

'This is a high-risk operation in which we shall be warped to the planet surface. Once we are on the planet we will start an infiltration mission to eliminate their Dictator and General. Once those two are disposed of the rest of the Fenrir Military will commence the attack. Carry lightly, as supply packs will be granted if additional firepower is needed, yet enough to fight for a day, if needed. You're role is to destroy everything from long-range to short range, whatever suits your fancy, and I shall provide long-range support with magical abilities. No questions. Do you refuse or accept?'

Alex's physical body remained motionless throughout his entire short brief. Immediatly afterwards he used his right arm, lifted the glass cup and took a small sip of good ol' H2O, water. His lips lingered on the rim for a second before he closed his eyes and the glass frosted over. Ghost white mist spread slowly from the top before he took another sip and felt the cool liquid run down his throat.

Cold; a single purpose is what it served. The water was not much different then Alex. He glanced at his left wrist to check the time, a habitual thing that plagued him for years. He had a very strict schedule, and if he missed a beat it would backlog him for weeks.

With the curtains closed granting the two men their privacy, Dr. Kervorkian seemed to loosen up, if only a bit; a sign he felt comfortable in this closed off environment as it reminded him, if only subconsciously, of his laboratory. Shutting his eyes, the man folded his arms, lowered his head, and continued to listen, his glasses sliding down his nose though never fully falling from his face. Silence grasped the air as the two seemingly sat quietly while their conversation continued mentally between the two of them...

'No Questions' How else would he know if he truly wished to partake in this 'high risk' mission if no questions could be asked? A proper decision couldn't be made without certain information being stated beforehand, though this may just be a ploy to trick him into agreeing knowing his curiosity would get the best of him. A response was delayed deliberately, a 'game' they played with each other which involved both parties annoying the other, using their pet peeves against one another. Where Dr. Kervorkian grows irritable when there's a lack of general information, or information period, Alex has an obsession with time. Making him wait even a second too long and he goes berserk, or at least would if he lacked self control.

'I accept under the condition that 90% of the corpses from both parties are sent directly to my lab for autopsy, study, and material collection, as well as any medical, scientific, or weapon development records for cross examination...' A small smile played across the man's face just as he finished his thought, his gaze falling from Alex's eyes to his watch.

'Your games astound me, but I guess it is an eye for an eye just as they say. Do not stand in my way and I will not stand in yours. This is for the benefit of Fenrir, and nothing more. I didn't ask you because I wanted to, but because I was forced to, do I make myself clear? My father is the leader of this entire gunshow, and I will be damned, if I let you mess anything up pertaining to this.

Alex’s eyes sought those of his ignorant partner only to fail, helplessly seeking to penetrate the supernatural darkness swirling within the deep cowl and catch a glimpse of what lay within the eyes of the man. As he continued to try and discern even a vague impression of what could be beneath the body, he said something else.

'On the terms that all of the corpses are delivered to you, that will be granted. It is easy for me to pull a few strings here and there, and give you what you need as long as you do your job here at Fenrir corps. Continue to experiment and delve deeper into the strains of ether, and all and you can have virtually anything you want. Only you know the exact mechanics and equations to how this mysterious technology or otherwise magic works, and only you can heighten our hopes by a significant amount. As long as you understand what weight you bare on you shoulders, and are prepared to carry this weight with pride, then you can hate me as much as you want.'

Finally he rose from the chair, his right hand slowly gracing the cover as he looked down at him. He waited for the reaction of the scientist, the one man whom he had no choice to trust with such weight. If he could leave it up to another, he would have, but the card of such intelligence chose him. And hence this ordeal occurred, and he was forced to confront the man.

'Are we clear?'

Everything other than what Dr. Kervorkian wanted to hear went in one ear and out the other as it was heard, absorbed into the mind to be broken down for information deemed important, separated and stored in the endless void of his mind, with the rest being destroyed as not to take up space. The smile remained upon the man's face as he lifted the glasses back into place once more with his middle finger, he lifting his stare again to meet those belonging to the man opposite him.

'You are mistaken on one thing...' The man stood slowly, sliding his chair back under the table where it was originally, the screeching of it's legs upon the floor the only signal that there existed life behind these curtains, within this silence. 'I don't hate you Alexander... For that would insinuate that I actually cared in the first place...' A low chuckle sounded from deep within the being, erupting from his throat manically as he turned and slid out from the curtain. This sudden outburst startled the few people that collected here, though served only to further amuse the good doctor. Even as his image vanished, the laughter remained with one though lingering in Alex's mind...

'Crystal'