A glance away.

A sphere of ocean-blue magic and lightning crackled over a stone emitter of some kind, roiling and twisting. A man stood beside it, leaning on the artifact and staring into the stormy sphere. The man had a head of messy, stark-white hair and golden-yellow eyes, slightly pointed ears. He was just a bit too long in his limbs, a bit too thin. A manic grin split his face, just too wide and sharp to be anything other than unsettling.

“Found you,” he muttered, reaching a scarred hand into the spitting and sparking projection. It seared his skin, but parted, showing the sleeping form of his target. “Even though the shadow-mage tried to stop me. Boys, the time has come.”

Four soldiers, eyes all glowing ocean-blue, stood at attention. One tentatively stepped forward.

“Boss, are you sure about this?” He asked, nervously rubbing at his shoulder. “You really want us to hunt down a seven-foot demon girl without any real weapons?”

The long man tightened his grip on the artifact, withdrawing his now-smoking hand. “I want her alive, not filled with bullets, you stupid fuck.” He slowly turned his head, his slightly-too-long neck cracking. “The Unchained have to be captured alive. They are no use to me dead.”

In a blink, the long man had his hand gripping the soldier’s face, too-long fingers squeezing tight. “Do you understand me?”

The soldier stiffly nodded as well as he could. “Y-yes, master Declan.”

“Good boy.” The long man, Declan, gently released the soldier. “You’ll be fine, anyhow. They clipped her wings. Go, now. Before they realize we know.”

The soldier nodded and swept out of the room, the other three shortly behind him. They each took a device from the wall before leaving, a blue-glowing gauntlet.

“Oz?” Declan asked the empty room.

“Yes?” The soft, feminine voice replied, far behind him in the dark of the chamber.

“Keep an eye. Those… mindless idiots… won’t get far, I imagine. You’re the ace in my pocket.”

“As always, sir.”

“Fuck, stop it with that shit.” Declan turned to look at her, his grin wide and dangerous. “My own sister? Calling me sir?”

Silence in reply.

Declan marched into the darkness and, as he’d done to the soldier, grabbed her by the face. The tiny sparks in her eyes were the only things he could really see, burning embers of anger. He got close, he knew she hated that.

“Wanna try that again?”

She stayed stubbornly, defiantly silent.

He tightened his grip, the scars lacing his skin glowing blue. The light framed her face in stark relief, showing better her furrowed brow and downturned lips and the same golden eyes and white hair.

“You want me to remind you of all I did for you?”

The scars turned lava-red and she flinched.

“...brother.” She finally said, teeth gritted and eyes wincing.

“And what do we say to our family?”

“...thank you.”

“Not what I was getting at.” He tightened his grip. “Don’t make me say it.”

Now fear entered her face. “I… love you.”

“Aww.” Declan let her go with a shove, throwing her backward into the wall hard enough to crack the stone. “I love you too, Oz.”

“Fuck you.”

Declan turned away like he hadn’t heard her. “Do you know where the others are? Torik, Rakta, any of ‘em?”

“No, sir. They are stubbornly silent.”

“Ah, well, that’s too bad. Maybe you should find them, huh?” Declan rested his hands on the artifact again, looking up into the roiling ball of magic. “Or we’ll have to have another talk.”

“...do you want me to follow the capture crew, or find the Unchained?”

“Why not both, Oz? Why not both?” She was quickly getting on his nerves, and she wasn’t. Fucking. Leaving. “What do you think you should do?”

“...I suppose I will do both.”

“Good.” He started to dismiss her, then paused. “Did Arthus ever get here?”

“Yes, sir. Arthus arrived yesterday and is currently stationed in the armory.”

“Perfect. Just in time.” Declan sniffed and looked into the scrying sphere. “Get the fuck out.”

Her boots clanked against the stone floor, fading as she left the chamber.

Declan touched the sphere again. “Alright, Brimcaste…"