𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒

… Even Zeno doesn’t know what those missing pages hold. But he knows who does. And, perhaps with the right motivations, he could be persuaded to take a little risk and seek out answers himself.

The biggest clue was, in fact, one of the very first lines.

“CLARISSA WILLOWS, hereafter referred to as SUBJECT—“

A few sentences gave hints.

‘Subject underwent regular blood tests, indicating—‘ Sudden page break.

‘Progress is remarkable; At this rate the—‘ The rest is missing.

+

There would be nothing of use within them, anyway… Paragraphs cut off between disordered pages, sentences beginning with promise, but the ending redacted or removed entirely.

Milestones. Weight at birth. Fair skin, strong cry. Normal appetite. Normal sleep. Normal, normal, normal.

+

Well, you know… Often times, those with the most hardened exteriors secretly wish for someone much softer to gently push their way through.

And you are nothing if not determined, miss. I mean that in the best way possible.

I’m sure. You are far too gentle for that. I know that.

I don’t think you would upset him… He has surprising emotional depth. I think he understands more than he lets on.

And I think, quite possibly, so do you… But that’s an entirely different conversation.

…….. ( What a perfect coincidence.)

Right, right. My apologies… I wasn’t aware you had such a soft spot for him, Mrs. Willows.

Hmmh… Yes, very much like your father, just less elegant about it. More honest.

Don’t lose that trait, boy. It’s endearing. Makes you so much easier to… Understand.

Well. I’ve spoken to him face to face, once or twice. We call each other ‘brother’, but the more accurate term is probably… Father and son, almost. Creator and creation, perhaps. Template, and upgrade.

What would you prefer to be, to me?

I’d say jealousy is a good look on you, but I’m not terribly sure you have many other ‘looks’… I kid.

Am I not allowed to be kind to the son of my ‘ancestor’?

Ah. That’s what it is.

Poor thing… Well. You’ve only become stronger in the face of adversity. That, at the very least, I do think he would have been proud to see. Very proud.

I mean, their reactions are their own prerogative. I don’t intend to incite fear. On the contrary, I try my very best not to, but, ah… I suppose your father did grace me with his looks, and it’s not the friendliest face, is it?

You aren’t curious at all? Hmm. I wonder why…

Pfft.

Right, right. Wary, aren’t you? Fair enough. Did you ever meet your father? Or is this your very first time seeing ‘him’ in the flesh?

Hmm. Nurture VS nature, I suppose. Your father never had the opportunities you did. Of course you would surpass him emotionally. He convinced himself he didn’t need such useless things as feelings.

I disagree with him, though. You are much more… Lively, than he ever was. I prefer that.

Mm? Well, that’s nice to hear. I’m glad you had some goodness in your life, despite the… Circumstances of your birth.

I do sound like him sometimes, I know. It’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?

But you should know. We can’t really stray that far from our ancestors after all, can we?

Anyway. I suppose I at least… /Owe/ you some sort of introduction, for whatever it’s worth.

I’m not your father. I’m built from his genetics, but I am not him, nor do I wish to be.

But if you want to project whatever grief or grudge you might hold onto me, feel free… Might be interesting.

Aha, so that’s the nerve. Fantastic. Thank you for the information.

You’re taking this surprisingly well. No identity crisis, no immediate violence, not even an emotional reaction? Hmh. So you do take after him in some little ways, then.

All we share is our genetic code. Nothing else. That… Person, is not my son by any means. Why must you always panic so loudly?

….. What a pitiful introduction.

….. Pffft.

Well, if she gets out of line, I’ll just kill her. She knows that, I know that. With that memory of hers, she can’t be allowed to wander alive.

(… Carlos’s gun explodes with the impact of a sniper caliber bullet.)

Tell your stupid girl that she was almost right. It wasn’t Dulvey. It was Romania. She’ll understand. And if she uses that knowledge well, maybe she’ll actually be worth the effort of killing someday.

…. By the way.

(He pulls the Redemption from the holster wrapped around his shoulders beneath the jacket and fires without a glance.)

+

Good boy. You always are, aren’t you? Above and beyond. You know that, don’t you? My little treasure.

(That gets a head pat. Just one. Can’t overindulge. Leave him wanting, just a little bit.)

Make yourself at home. It is your home now, after all. Where you always did belong.

(He’s… Not even annoyed, just baffled. He should have expected that, though— Not many have such a… Wealthy hobby.)

Feel free. You know to leave locked things alone, don’t you? Good boy. Do as you wish.

I trust you.

(His hand suddenly releases his grip, casual as could be, visible irritation in his expression.)

But I’d much rather you live to tell the tale. So no more pests like you two will bother me.

Go back to your poor damsel as a failure. As a warning. You cannot stop me. Quit trying.