VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 143

Obaseki wasn't exactly living the life of luxury. His arrest had been normal, for the most part, but at their first opportunity, the police force had taken the additional step of attaching magic dampeners around his neck and wrists. They were uncomfortable, but not inhumane. Besides, he understood they were necessary, many other people in his position would have attempted to escape already.

His cell also appeared ordinary at a first glance, but the guard that appeared several times throughout the day to check on him had mentioned there were magic dampeners embedded in the walls as well, and the fact that this cell was deep underground and only accessible by elevator made hopes of escape non-existent. Obaseki wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the concept, actually, as this cell had been constructed by the police force in collaboration with the Messiah some years ago as per his own request. Ironic. He'd always assumed he'd need to lock a rogue Nikolai here, or Demon should he get out of control, but never himself. The German sector of the Messiah had been destroyed, for the most part. Hardly any of the high-ranking members remained, and the most important one had already been sent out of the country for the time being. Now with an extraordinary amount of time to think, Obaseki almost found his containment peaceful, save for the brief visits from the guard.

Suddenly, the metallic whirring of the elevator filled the air between his cell and the elevator itself, the chamber echoing around him. He had more company than usual, it seemed. When the guard stepped out of the elevator, two more strangers stepped out after him. One of them wore a dark cloak that covered their whole body, wrapped tightly around them and hiding their face in shadows. Standing an inch or two taller, the second stranger's clothing wasn't quite as strange. Over her dark suit she wore a warm-looking beige sweater, which was slowly removed and folded over her arm as she stepped out of the elevator. Her hair was a striking platinum, almost appearing white as snow, and judging from her face, she was a young adult, perhaps a few years older than Trinity. The two strangers seemed to be whispering to each other, until the guard so rudely interrupted them. "Ten minutes," he said gruffly. "I see anything funny, you're out."

Obaseki stared at their approach, feeling the temperature drop slightly thanks to the sensitivity of his newly-shaved head. The strangers still had snow shifting off their boots. The second individual, he could not determine. Their face was obscured, figure unrecognizable, no defining features to add in revealing their identity. But the girl? Her platinum hair, her reproachful yet ballistic gaze in spite of her calm and collected demeanor . . . He knew her. He was the one who'd organized the kidnapping of her brother and the murder of her parents, after all. Her name escaped him, as did her purpose for being alive. She'd been assumed dead.

Clearly that was mistaken.

Placing his arms behind his back, Obaseki bowed his head slightly, gazing at the girl through the bars of his cell. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked. Neither of the two offered him a quick reply, the platinum-haired woman watching his polite greeting carefully. Jonathan had always been quite good at reading other people, so he tended to pick up small details even if he didn't intend to. Like right now, the subtle twitch of the girl's eye, the slight shaking in her fingertips, the clench of her jaw . . . signs of anger, and repressed anger at that. As to why she had such anger . . . well, Obaseki knew the answer. After taking a quick glance back at the cloaked figure that accompanied her, the woman's eyes locked back onto Jonathan. Her brilliant orange eyes held a steely resolve that the man had only seen in one, perhaps two other people before in his lifetime.

"Jonathan Obaseki," her words were cold, her anger seeming to subside, being replaced with a composed but very stern attitude. "Are you happy?"

"Happy?" he repeated. "Happy with myself? Happy with this outcome? Happy with the living arrangements? I could be happy about anything, and I could be sad about anything," the man smiled under his spruce mustache. "I'm not happy, I suppose. More than anything . . . I'm pleased," he paused, studying her face. "But that's not why you're here. My happiness is not something you care for."

"The contrary, really. I just wonder what part of you is able to accept any feelings of pleasure after everything you've done," the girl responded simply, though her tone didn't quite indicate the venom her words intended. "Humor me, Jonathan. Why are you pleased?"

"Why? Well, I am at peace. The German Messiah has been destroyed, and my daughter was able to find her own path out of it. My defeat was something I accepted a long time ago. Surviving was not my expectation, however."

"Destroyed?" the girl raised an eyebrow, before a grin spread across her face. That smile . . . it was so familiar to Jonathan, but it lacked the darkness behind it that he'd grown used to. "Jonathan Obaseki, I'm surprised at you, that's shameful. Telling such a lie right to my face. Putting on this facade that you're some tragic, upstanding character . . . it's just dishonest. The German Messiah has not been destroyed. My informant tells me you even took the steps to ensure that personally."

Jonathan knew exactly what she was referring to, the fact that he'd sent Trickster off to France to begin a quest of uniting the sectors under one banner. When she returned, she would become the new leader of the Messiah as a whole. "You misunderstand," Obaseki elaborated. "This form of the Messiah is destroyed. Leader Amour has her own journey to undergo - but I shouldn't expect you to understand. After all, you certainly have me pegged as a doddering old fool attempting to manipulate you, right? I have nothing to say to you that you want to hear . . ." he paused. "It was you, wasn't it? Krashna's not the type to run. Is that why you're here?"

"Krashna will no longer be causing problems for other people," the girl's smile faded into a neutral expression. "I've made sure of it. And like him, all other leaders of the Messiah will soon fall."

"All?" Jonathan's eyebrow raised slightly with intrigue. "You intend to cause the absolute downfall of the Messiah? You're an ambitious one."

"Jonathan Obaseki, the news will eventually reach you, even down here. Soon, the Messiah will be erased off the face of the earth. Nothing will remain. And I will live forever in the books as the one that finally ended their miserable existence," her lips curled back into a smile. "I am Katherine."

"Well, although I do commend such ambition, you may have fierce competition," Obaseki stroked his chin. "Surely you know of the girl who brought about my defeat, without your aid I might add. I believe she will soon be attempting to bring about the downfall of the Messiah as well."

"And speaking of her, for now I'll respect her decision not to kill you," Katherine responded. "And although your company has been lovely, Jonathan Obaseki, I have other things to attend to. Adieu," she turned away from him, ready to leave, but her cloaked friend didn't budge. Their gaze was still fixed upon Obaseki, at least he presumed so. The fabric was covering their eyes. After a couple of seconds, their head raised, just enough for the former Messiah leader to catch a glimpse of her eyes, a solid crimson in color.

And then . . . they turned away as well, leaving for the elevator.

Obaseki's unbroken and professional smile faltered at this, confusion flashing across his face momentarily. There were four ruby SOULs, but only one was quite as bold as that had been.

Wordlessly, he looked back up at the cloaked figure as they climbed inside of the elevator with Katherine and the officer. The last thing either of them saw was the growing smile on the old man's face.

How interesting.