GARGOYLES: Re-Awakening

Dislocation: 1

A cloud of dust accompanied the rush of stones and pebbles as they bounced down the slope. Xanatos was annoyed. For a man of his accomplishments, he found it particularly vexing that something as mundane as a rock should trip him up, send him sliding down a hill and leave him with scratched, bleeding hands for all to see. Were it not for his assistant, who was approaching in a jog that was just urgent enough to show competence while nonchalant enough to keep the embarrassment to a minimum, he would have picked up that damned stone and hurled it into the sea. But those were petty emotions, beneath the dignity of himself and his purpose here.

"May I be of assistance, Mr. Xanatos?"

"Thank you, Owen. It's nothing serious."

Owen Burnett handed over his pocket square, which his boss took without diverting his eyes from the heavy machinery he'd come to observe. Owen had been with David Xanatos since the very early days. He'd watched his boss develop the cool, calculating, unflinchingly confident persona that he was exhibiting right now. It would have been more than enough to alienate everyone around him were it not seemlessly mixed with an irresistible charisma.

Over the years Owen had seen the effectiveness of his boss' skills, and the ruthlessness as well. He'd watched him cut his way through the business world—sharp, menacing, and always accurate. It's why Owen never questioned Xanatos' plans. He had learned that even his more eyebrow-raising schemes always served a greater and absolutely calculated purpose. That's what had made Xanatos Enterprises, and by extension David Xanatos himself, one of the most powerful institutions in the world.

Owen cast his eyes toward the machinery. Yes, he'd seen nothing short of brilliance every day since going to work for Mr. Xanatos but this, this strained even his faith. The cranes, fork-lifts, front-end loaders, and dozens of other construction vehicles which Owen never bothered to learn the names of—many of which which were Xanatos Enterprises products themselves—had spent the last week deconstructing Castle Wyvern and packing it into huge wooden crates marked with the company logo 'X'. It was all headed to New York.

There were two things preventing Owen from seriously considering this plan as a sign that his boss was finally cracking under the pressure of the empire he'd built. The first was that in nineteen years he'd never once seen him even break a sweat under pressure, no matter what was at stake. The second was that he'd seen her with his own eyes. Just thinking about her gave him a chill. He didn't trust her. And he didn't like the world she was slowly pulling them into. Spreadsheets and lawyers could be cold, and dangerous, but they were predictable. Scrolls and spells and magic, assuming he really believed any of it, were not. Then again, her very presence made it impossible to walk away from the table, even if they wanted to. Some things, once in motion, simply couldn't be stopped.

A siren slowly rose over the landscape. The blasting was about to begin. Xanatos remained unflinching. His gaze was fixed, not on the workers clearing out, but on the platforms set atop the castle walls. Their stone Gargoyles were menacing, no doubt. A thin half smile crept onto his face. He didn't budge when the first blast rang through the air. Owen's shoulders jumped.