A/N: So, I re-read Ch018 a while after posting. I frowned. I re-worked it since it wasn't really what I wanted.

Sorry for the long delay. I had to plan out three new chapters. Also, I got distracted by a new series. Then I got distracted by an old series. Now it's Finals cruch time.

... Whoops.

Anyway, enjoy the first of three transition chapters! ... Though I guess nothing really happens and the ending is a little weak, I worked hard on it!

On that note, do people prefer these longer chapters or my shorter chapters? I can try to do a 2000-3000 word chapters twice a month like before, or one of these 5000+ once a month or two. The latter take longer due to needing more editing and thought, but I'm hoping they're of higher quality as well as content.

Reviews:

shelwyn [Ch018 [Pre-EDIT], 2/7/2018]: ... *sigh* I noticed. Thanks for pointing it out, though. I very much adore internal consistency, so when I can't uphold it myself... ugh.

Heaven's/Feel Alchemist - Ch 019

Heaven's Feel 15

Illyasviel von Einzbern is incomprehensible. If it isn't her enigmatic background, then it's her mysterious words. If it isn't her mysterious words, it's her puzzling actions. Sure, there are some half-way decent explanations for it all, but even those are vague and unsatisfactory.

Plus, sometimes she gets... weird.

"Now strip."

"Eh!? Onee-san!? Isn't that too sudden?!"

Like right now.

"You might be dressed for the occasion," Seraphy frowns disapprovingly, "but I believe I'm due an explanation."

Indeed, in the study of Tim Marcoh is a young girl dressed with perfect preparation for a naked man. Her black heels, hosery, and miniskirt contrast nicely with her white button-up shirt and labcoat. The stethescope she wears highlights her neck's flawless skin well, made further accessable to ogling by the professional bun that ties up all but the snowy bangs framing her face. A coy, calm demeanor and a pair of non-prescription glasses give her Einzbern red eyes a more mature air. The end product is a small lady doctor rather than a little girl playing dress-up.

It can't be said that Doctor Illya doesn't know how to dress herself.

As a side note, Chloe has been forced into a nurse outfit. It's more appropriate for a cosplay convention than a hospital, but she still wears it obediently with an embarassed blush on her face. Naturally, Illya makes sure to burn that adorable image into her memories forever.

"I did promise that, didn't I?" Doctor Loli smiles. "Sorry for making you wait until after dinner. I needed to gather some ingredients for a potion."

"A-A potion... No, I suppose that makes some sort of sense," the red-head falters, then collects himself.

Illya smiles, pleased with his understanding.

"Now that that's settled, strip!"

"Onee-san!"

"Again, please explain."

"Oh, fine," the elder homunculus pouts. "I'm checking to see if you have any magic circuits. If do, you'll probably be capable of Magecraft. Integrating you into the Moonlit World will be easier then."

"And how will you do that, exactly?" Seraphy asks with a hint of impatience.

"With this!" Illya smiles as she energetically pulls a vial from her skirt pocket. The glowing green liquid within shimmers like a miniature lake on a sunny day.

Seraphy takes one glance at the vial and turns his deadpan eyes upon the mini-magus.

"It looks like diluted radioactive sludge from that movie with the mud man."

"It's a potion containting trace amounts of ground-up catalysts imbued with my Prana," Illya frowns. "You strip, drink it, and then lay very still. Your soul will attempt to purge the harmless foreign Prana, causing it to flow outwards from your mouth, throat, and stomach. As it does so, the weak Prana will naturally flow around any magic circuits that may exist due to their superior protection from magical intrusion. I'll be making use of these defense responses to get an accurate read of your basic spiritual structure."

"Won't that miss my arms and legs?" the patient points out.

"We're just seeing if you have any at all first. All naturally occuring magic circuits first form in the head or torso, so I won't miss it if you have any. If you do end up having some, that's when we'll check your limbs," Illya smiles and pulls out a small, plastic-covered syringe filled with the same glowing liquid. "As you can see, I'm prepared."

"There are artificial magic circuits?" Seraphy asks, sharp as ever.

"Yes, but don't expect me to transplant one into you if you weren't born with any circuits of your own. I'm not a doctor yet, and the resulting pain could drive you mad even if I was," the pale skinned girl warns.

Seraphy isn't sure he wants to know how she knows that.

"You make it sound like they're an organ," the teen alchemist grumbles.

"They kind of are. Now strip and drink," she demands before he can think on it too hard. "I have things to do."

"Like what? Not teaching me about the Moonlit World?" he raises a brow, even as he starts removing his clothing.

Chloe trembles cutely off to the side. This will be the first time she sees a man in the nude. It makes her anxious, but she's unable to close her eyes since Illya's sound-proof wind barrier won't let her hear incoming threats.

"Don't be silly," Illya casually dismisses his concerns. "Of course I'm not going to teach you. You're a genius. You don't need it. All you need is a book and the chance to ask questions from an expert."

"I'm pretty sure that's what they call teaching," a topless Seraphy rolls his eyes. "Well, that explains why you came back from your shopping trip with so much ink and paper. You transmuted your knowledge into a textbook. Likely whole."

"That's right," she nods. "I'm a little surprised you're not rejecting the possibility, though."

Which, unlike most things dealing with one Illyasviel, would actually make sense. Transmuting a book one page at a time would also make sense. However, taking a stack of paper and turning it into a textbook in a single go? The amount of skill required to control such a transmutation would be completely absurd.

This, of course, is half the reason why Seraphy's certain she can do it.

"Why would I? It's only four or five times more difficult than transmuting a stack of fliers. I could do it with about a week of work, and you're about as smart as I am no matter how you look at it. If I can become as good as a State Alchemist in a few years while studying part time, then what about someone who's been immersed in alchemy since the day they were born?"

"Which is impressive by itself. I'm smart by design. That a natural born human can rival the Einzbern craft is really abnormal," Illya nods matter of factly instead of admitting she cheated with Wishcraft.

"Is it safe to assume your family's craft leans heavily on human transmutation, then?" Seraphy sends a sharp look the girl's way.

"Yes, we specialize in the creation of homunculi," she admits with a shrug. "Our method doesn't require as much in depth knowledge of the human body as Amestrian alchemy, though."

The red haired young man nods with a small grimace. That lines up with what he knows of her. Though he still wants to shout that homunculi and souls aren't real, the evidence has already been shoved in his face. The reality is that magic- no, Magecraft is a thing.

It helps him to rationalize it as just another form of alchemy. There's plenty of schools and methods. Her's just uses an exotic energy source and the rules are a little different because of it.

Maybe it's a good thing Illya hasn't told him about True Magic yet.

Even with these revelations, there's still two things that really bother him about Illya. For all her mysteriousness, she's still a ten year old girl. A ten year old girl made in a lab if she's a homunculus like she claims, but a girl none the less. As far as Seraphy can tell, artificial human is human enough. She's still a person.

The thing is, people have motives. What are hers? He still has no concrete idea of why she's looking for her family.

The other bothersome thing is how at ease she is about killing. He hasn't seen her do it, at least that he can recall, but her threats are no joke. Even when she seems like she's joking, she's not joking. Washing dishes and taking life are the same kind of activity for her.

That comparison isn't exactly accurate as Chloe won't let Illya do the dishes, but the point still stands. Illya's incredible disregard for human life is weird. Is it a product of magus culture like she says, or is it due to her upbringing as an Einzbern? Is it because she walks hand in hand with death as a magus, or is it because she's a maker of homunculi and sees human lives as disposable goods? Is it both? Is it neither? Is there even a difference, and does Illya recognize it if there is?

Seraphy isn't sure it really matters, but he wants to know. He wants to ask and recieve answers, but he also doesn't want to push his luck. Too much of anything is poison, and he's not foolish enough to overdose on curisousity.

"Do your plans require me to perform human transmutation?" he asks instead. "It's taboo for a reason, and I'd rather be alive."

"No, I plan on instating you as the head of the Einzbern Medic Union that I'm making," Illya drops a major bombshell out of nowhere. "Your task will have three parts. One, train the first generation of the Emergency Response Wing and Paramaceutical Wing. Two, research and development of new medicine and medical techniques. Three, administration of the organization. We'll begin once we return to Atelier Einzbern. Nuen will assist you with financial matters and will handle the mystic pharmaceutical teams."

"Hold on," the now nude man holds up a finger in objection. "While I'm already researching the use of alchemy for actual healing, if you want a drug researcher then shouldn't you be making your pitch to Doctor Marcoh? He's the Crystal Alchemist for a reason."

"And that reason is that he's a dog of the military already," she refutes. "I don't want to risk him having more loyalty to the state than to me. He's a good man and I'd hate to have to kill him for talking."

On one hand, Seraphy agrees that Marcoh would have conflicting loyalties. Even if the good doctor didn't, he's a good man who only wants to help others. He's not selfish enough to keep his research a secret unless he's forced, and the military would definitely press him for the Einzbern secrets to 'help the common man.' Keeping him out of it is for his own safety.

Plus, throwing his father figure into the hands of this crazy child does put a bad taste in his mouth.

On the other hand, Seraphy would really like Marcoh's help with handling Illya. Not only because she's more than a handful, but because the girl clearly needs mental help. She seems to care about Marcoh's opinions every now and then, which is more than he can say about anyone who isn't Chloe.

Of course, that could just be because she feels obligated after all the kindness he's shown her. Debts can be paid off. If this is indeed the case, then Seraphy doesn't want to imagine what would happen should Illya ever feel like she's repaid Marcoh's kindness in full.

The redhead takes a breath to center himself, then makes another attempt to convince her that he's not up for the job.

"I've never handled anything more than a surgery team. I don't think I can handle the responsibility," Seraphy admits the true reason for his rejection.

"You'll be legitimately helping people and getting the best environment for your sister's growth. That should be motivation enough to get better at it," Illya turns up her nose at his feeble arguments.

"The best environment? How so?" he asks, hot-cold steel flashing in his eyes.

Illya smiles, knowing she has him now.

After all, little sisters are Justice.

"She'll be in a literal castle with magical defenses and bodyguards. She'll have the funding to learn whatever she wants, eat whatever she wants, and wear whatever she wants. She'll have enough influence by proxy to access almost any research once the Medic Union is running and I'm in the military. There's a town of mundane, normal people nearby who she can play with for her social development. I'm a noble and will be mixing with high society eventually, if she's interested in it. She'll lack nothing, especially not options."

"And legitimately helping people?"

"The idea of the Medic Union is to set up drug stores that double as free clinics throughout the country. The ER Wing will man the free clinics. They'll focus on providing first aid, field medicine, transportation, and keeping people alive long enough to reach a real hospital.

The Pharmacy Wing will focus on developing and selling pharmaceuticals. It's where we'll actually make money. As I said before, Nuen will handle the mystic drug making teams. At least, until I can devise a method for mundane people to make similar products and still prevent them from leaking information."

"... Why would you need mundane people to make magical drugs?" Seraphy picks up on the fishiness of the statement. "And is it really okay to tell me all this? It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since you told me I was a security risk."

"Psh, I've slept since then," Illya waves off his concern. "I realized on the train that I could make use of an Atlas alchemy technique to protect your mind. I'll make a dedicated minor mental partition that'll filter your sensory information for hypnotic effects."

"I'm sorry, but did you just say you're going to repurpose part of my brain?!" he can't help shouting.

"Yes...?" the pale skinned girl blinks, nonplussed. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"It's a big problem!"

"Fine, then I'll cultivate some extra brain cells for the job and stick them on."

"You don't just stick on brain cells!"

"Yes I do. I'm the head of the Einzbern family," Illya raises a brow in challenge. "How do you think Maid Power works?"

"I- what?!"

Maid Power doesn't actually work like that, mostly because it doesn't actually exist. Even so, Chloe's been transmuted to have all sorts of special functions. Some minor brain alterations so she can control them are inevitable.

As to whether extra gray matter was added, even Illya has no idea. The elder homunculus used Wishcraft for it. She doesn't know the process. Cutting open her little sister's head to find out is also off the table.

Well, performing magical brain surgery was a joke anyway. The Mystery that Atlas alchemists use for Mental Partition affects the mind, not the body. Harmful feedback to the body due to misapplication is possible, but it really won't be an issue with what Illya's planning.

Which is Wishcraft, since Illya doesn't know how Mental Partition actually works.

"Anyway, I need to make the magical drugs mundane accessable because I plan to leave Amestris," Illya changes the subject. "Once I find the rest of my family and finish whatever business may be left here, we're going home. You can take over the Medic Union for real, then. My other business ventures will be handled separately."

Seraphy blinks, jaw frozen in place.

Just like that, in the span of ten minutes Illya has become far less mysterious. It turns out that she's still just the little girl who loves her family that he met a month and a half ago. There's just magical underworld culture involved now.

Okay, maybe she's not 'just' anything.

Illya is murderous, weird, and secretive. She's also mischievous, cheerful, outgoing, and playful. She's a mixed bag of child-like qualities, adult responsibilities, and serial killer crazy.

She's not evil, though. She doesn't enjoy hurting people. She doesn't mind it either. She's apathetic to the lives of others, and that may be more scary than if she enjoyed hurting them.

Still, Seraphy is endlessly relieved by her revealed motives. It proves that Illya's love for her family isn't just a cover story. That she really is capable of caring for others.

Now if only she cared about people who aren't her immediate family.

Seraphy works his jaw as he considers that line of thought.

Illya is apathetic, not necessarily evil. She's a child, and therefore still developing. She's smart, powerful, rich, and can bend reality to her whim.

Making sure Illya grows up to be a good person might possibly be his greatest contribution to the safety and development of mankind.

"So," Seraphy says once he finds his voice, "can we go back to how you're going to graft extra-"

"No," Illya denies instantly. "Do you want us to get in trouble for clearly performing human transmutation?"

"This is important!" he insists. "If we could reverse engineer the process, we might be able to help people with nerve damage without having to resort to costly prostetics! Brain damage might even become something we can cure instead of just treat!"

"... The idea has merit, but there are tons of other things I need to translate into the Amestrian alchemy system first. It'll have to wait," she declares decisively.

There's no way Illya is willing to admit she was making things up now. She lets out a mental sigh as she resigns herself to doing extra research when she's already busy.

Truthfully, she already spends too much of her time trying to reverse engineer the effects of her Wishcraft with Magecraft. Even if it's something she enjoys and furthers her family's craft, it isn't immediately useful for her. She doesn't need to worry about energy consumption or time, after all. If it can be done with Wishcraft, why not do it with Wishcraft?

"Then why do you even want the Medic Union?" Seraphy complains, somehow sensing her disinterest. "You're already rich and you plan to leave the country. There's no need for something as rooted as country-wide clinics and pharmacies."

Illya opens her mouth, then closes it. Seraphy can practically see the gears turning as she considers what she's about to say. A minute passes in silence, which only enhances his curiousity.

What could possibly require so much thought? She already said so much because she has a solution for the security issue. Why is this different? Is it connected to her outburst earlier?

Despite his bursting desire to ask questions, he keeps calm and waits. It's a bad idea to rush a person who's willing to fiddle with your brain. That goes double when they're doing it regardless of your consent and you don't have the power to stop them.

"My father," Illya says slows slowly, as if tasting the words before they leave her mouth, "is a mercenary who married into the family. For criminals and mercenaries, free clinics should be a vital neutral ground."

"And you plan to use that to tap into their information networks," Seraphy concludes, "because a soldier's, a rich person's, and a magi's information network won't necessarily overlap with criminals and mercenaries."

"That's right," the girl confirms. "It's possible that we'll be able to find our father with this. He can take care of himself though, so I'm not worried as much about him. Our big brother, on the other hand, is being held by someone who belongs to or has infiltrated the criminal underworld."

"I... see," Seraphy frowns when no more details are given. He'd like to ask more, but he's aware of his own capabilities. It isn't like he can help anyway. Dealing with criminals isn't something he knows how to do, and he isn't interested in learning.

He'll have his hands full with work and his little sister too, and still will once Illya forces him to become the head of a new medical organization. He won't have time to use the Medic Union as an intelligence network. That task will most certainly be delegated to someone else.

"Okay, only one more question before I jam this down your throat," Illya waves the vial playfully. "Chloe's getting really red, and I want to take care of this before she faints."

Seraphy takes a look at the maid dressed as a cosplay nurse. She is indeed red in the face, impressively so given her darker skin tone. She's also trembling and shaking with every shift of his body.

Whoops.

"Ah. Well then," the red head lets out an embarassed cough. "Um, you said you have something to do tonight? What is it?"

"Ha ha, I'm not answering that. Now drink up," Illya says with a smile.

Seraphy takes a long look at the girl. Her smile is pretty fake, but it isn't murderous. He's not sure if she's more or less scary because of it.

Seeing as he has no other option anyway, Seraphy takes the potion and drinks it like he's told. He lays down as intructed and is again treated to the strange spectacle of the glowing green lines that Illya claims are magic circuits. He watches intently as she proceeds to scan him with one hand and transmute a wireframe model that vaguely resembles him with the other.

A glance at Illya's face shows she's still holding onto that fake smile. It's just as he's wondering why when that smile turns impish. Suddenly, all of her magic circuits flare up.

Seraphy blacks out.

Illyasviel von Einzbern is a menace.

Not only did she knock Seraphy out to perform an arcane combination of human transmutation and brain surgery on him without warning, but she left him in Marcoh's study the rest of the night! Nude, on the hardwood floor with only bath towel to cover himself!

Being woken up by Marcoh in the morning was so embarassing that Seraphy almost didn't come to work.

On top of all that, her potion made him freaking glow for twelve hours. It's a good thing he didn't need to be there until nine, but he had to leave late because he still looked radioactive at eight-thirty!

Plus, she never told him whether he had circuits or not!

Just getting to work was a hassle too. Seraphy normally rides to the hospital with Doctor Marcoh, but that obviously wasn't what happened today. Since that wasn't an option, he tried calling a cab. It's the big city, so there's a sufficient taxi system.

At least, there would be if the military hadn't crushed it a week ago since it was a front for a human trafficking ring.

When he finally got here, his boss gave him a reaming for being gone so long and still having the gall to show up late. The intern he had his eye on was taken by a different department in the week he was gone. They stopped serving tuna salad in the cafeteria since their supplier in Dublith burned down.

It's been a long day, and he just can't help feeling like it's all Illya's fault.

"Still not over Illya's prank?" the kindly voice of Doctor Marcoh approaches Seraphy from the side.

"Ugh, don't remind me," the younger man groans. "She's going to get a talking to once I get home."

"Did you ever think that maybe that's why she pranked you in the first place?" Marcoh chuckles.

"It's happened enough times that I can tell the difference," Seraphy huffs sourly. "This is not one of those times."

Marcoh hums in thought, the smile fading from his face.

"Maybe she's looking for some normality? Her trip to Dublith was..."

"Yeah. Maybe," the redhead nods grimly.

Illya's time in Dublith was a lot of things. Uneventful was not one of them.

"I guess I better be getting home," Seraphy sighs. "Who knows what Illya's planning for me now?"

"Walk with me, then," Marcoh offers. "I'm going home soon too. There's just a patient I want to check up on first."

"Huh? They're still not letting you back into R&D?" Seraphy falls in next to his mentor.

"No, they want me to be free of any and all distractions," the elder shakes his head.

"Makes sense. Alchemic R&D is dangerous."

"It is, but I'm halfway convinced that my co-workers were just taking pity on me," Tim Marcoh lets out a self-derisive laugh. "I was quite a mess."

Seraphy isn't quite sure how to respond to that. They've already had a heart to heart about how Illya getting hurt wasn't Marcoh's fault in any way. Despite that, it's easy to see that the elder man isn't really over his guilt.

"Speaking of that, how's Illya doing?" Doctor Marcoh changes the subject. "She's an intelligent and proud child who's used to being independent. I'm worried she's bottling up her feelings."

"She's definitely bottling up her feelings, but it looks like she's recovering," Seraphy says truthfully. Technically.

Illya is dealing with some emotional hurdle that she won't let anyone help her with, but it's not the trauma of violence and hospitalization like Marcoh thinks. Seraphy himself doesn't know what it is, only that it's somewhat familiar. It's also true that she looks like she's recovering, but it could easily be that she's just suppressing whatever it is hard enough to make it seem that way.

He feels a stab of guilt for misleading his father figure, but it's really for the man's own good. Whatever has had the girl wound up for the past week only started after her first 'business meeting.' Getting too wrapped up in Illya's bullshit isn't healthy.

"I see. I'll have a talk with her after dinner," Marcoh says, a measure of determination replacing the weariness in his eyes.

Their short walk ends with the opening of the hospital room. In it is the patient, comatose and still hooked up to life support machines. Despite the man's grevious injuries, what Seraphy sees still stuns him.

The patient's skin is flawless in a way Seraphy's only seen on the Einzbern girls. His face is handsome, and his body finely muscled. If it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, Seraphy would assume he's a Greek sculpture... only better.

Serapy doesn't dare ask about this man's information when it hasn't been assigned to him. Doctor-patient confidentiality aside, this is a military hospital. Seraphy can only work here due to Doctor Marcoh's good reputation and his own continued good behavior. There's no need to ruin that.

But by all that's good in the world does he want to know this man's name.

"This is Sargent Gary-Stu Kent," Marcoh reveals the information of his own accord, surprising his protoge. "He's the one who gathered all the important information about the slaving ring so it could be shut down."

"A hero, then. I'm guessing he's well liked?" Seraphy asks even as he assists his old mentor with the checkup, half out of habit and half out of eternal gratitude.

"They call him the Perfect Man," Marcoh nods solemnly, "He seems to be a genius talent in all fields, and has an answer for everything. He's charismatic enough that those jealous of him tend to come around. Modest, too."

"And you?" Seraphy raises a brow.

"I think that Amestris has lost a fine man," the elder medical expert replies generously. "The chance of him recovering from his coma is almost none, and even if he does he'll never walk again. Stab wound severed his spinal cord."

Before Seraphy can start making plans to weasel alchemic secrets from Illya about the growth of nerve tissue, a woman voices her surprise from behind them.

The doctor pair turn to see a full-figured lady who is quite startled. She wears a long black dress that somehow only highlights her hips and thighs. A thick jacket with fur trimmings at every openning is zipped up over her chest... snugly. Her black gloved hands hold a small bundle of daffodils, her purse dangling from the crook of her elbow.

Despite being dressed with such dark colors, it all coordinates well with her dark hair, muave eyes, and full, red lips.

Not to mention her flawless skin. Really, Seraphy doesn't want to mention it. First Illya and Chloe, then Mister Perfect, and now it's Miss Hourglass. Is everyone going to poke at his insecurities today?

In the privacy of his mind, Seraphy decides to blame Illya for this too.

"Doctor Marcoh, I wasn't expecting to see you," the woman's face eases into a weak smile. From the flowers in hand, her less than cheery smile, and the way her eyes keep slipping toward the patient, it's pretty obvious what she's here for.

"I can't say I was expecting you either, Inspector Winters," the old man returns wryly. "Come in, I'm sure Gary would appreciate those flowers a bit longer if they were watered."

"Yes... Yes, I think he would as well," she replies, her smile becoming more genuine.

Winters steps into the hospital room and walks to the patient's bedside. She carefully sets the daffodils in the vase on the stand. Turning to the comatose redhead, she brushes Gary's messy bangs aside. Her nail slowly, delicately, almost affectionately, traces across the man's forehead.

"And this is...?" Seraphy whispers to the senior doctor.

"Lunaria Winters. Private Investigator who 'used to be' Internal Affairs," Marcoh whispers back, softer. He then coughs, successfully gaining the woman's attention.

"Miss Winters, I still have a few routine checks to do," he explains with a genuine smile on his face. "It'll only be a few minutes. Why don't you have a quick chat with my colleage here to pass the time?"

"I, uh-" Seraphy stumbles, not really expecting to be pushed into socializing.

"I think I'd like that," the woman smiles appreciatively at Marcoh. She swaps places with him, putting her beautiful self far closer to Seraphy than the teen is comfortable with.

"Inspector Lunaria Winters," she offers a hand.

"Doctor Seraphy Royce," the teen takes it.

"Ah, so you're the prodigy apprentice that Doctor Marcoh keeps bragging about," she replies, eyes trailing up and down the teen's body with keen appraisal.

Not feeling entirely comfortable with the way she's looking at him, he decides maybe socializing was the right idea.

"If you don't mind me asking, what relation do you have to the patient?"

"He's my cousin. Why, were you worried?" Lunaria teases in her silky, sultry voice.

Very briefly, Seraphy wonders what her voice would sound like screaming his name. He shakes it off, however. He has no time for romance right now, no matter what his horomones think.

Besides, this woman's at least twenty-two. Seraphy's sixteen. He can't see it working out, even without all the things he needs to do.

"A little," Seraphy decides to play along. He pastes a dry and playful smile on to help even the odds. "I hear he's well liked. If you were a crazy ex who just couldn't take it anymore..."

"I can see that happening, too," Lunaria grimaces. "Looks like I'll have to request some security."

"Er... right," the teenage genius is thrown off guard by the tone shift. Thankfully, the buxom woman notices.

"Sorry," she shakes her head with exasperation. "That boy's heart is in the right place, but he's always making trouble for others. The amount of times I've had to clean up after him... Ugh! And now he's in the hospital."

"I know exactly what you mean!" Seraphy replies suddenly, surprising even himself. He lets out an embarassed cough, then calmly continues. "I have three little sisters at home. Between the three of them, I have no shortages of messes."

"I've got five little brothers. I'm sorry," Lunaria looks at him with genuine empathy and pity.

They both sigh.

"Speaking of little sisters, I came across this pair of Ishvalan girls handing out fliers of their missing family. Here, take a look," she digs into her purse. She pulls out the two pieces of paper and unfolds them for Seraphy to see. Not wanting to admit that he knows that troublemaker Illya right now, he looks them over as if he hadn't seen them before.

What he sees sends his mind reeling.

While the adopted brother flier is still the same, the white haired mother flier is gone. In its place is a black haired man with a short stubble and dead eyes. This is more than likely the Einzbern girls' father.

Why now, though?

Illya and Chloe didn't put out fliers for him until now, prioritizing their mother instead. That always struck Seraphy as strange. If they're looking for both their parents, why aren't they putting out fliers of both?

Even if the father is a superhuman, supernatural mercenary, surely you'd look for both at once, right?

"You said they're handing out fliers, right?" Seraphy asks, doing his best to mask his caution. "I see a father figure and a brother figure, but no mother. Why is that?"

"No idea. They were putting up a mother flier until a week ago, but today they've stopped and switched to looking for... this guy," she shakes her head with faint disdain.

"Huh. Weird."

Seraphy doesn't say more than that, but his mind is already shaken. He may not know why they only chose to look for one parent at a time, but he's already put together the reason for the swap.

The girls go to Dublith and find their brother is in the hands of the mob. They get into a huge fight, which lands them in the hospital even though they can both regenerate. The day after waking in said hospital, Illya's stressed behaviors suddenly skyrocket. She tries to hide it, of course, but she's off her game. Then they come back to Central and start searching for their father instead.

It is exceedingly likely that their mother is dead. Illya clearly knows and is distraught about it, but refuses to talk. Chloe doesn't seem so troubled, so she may not know or cannot accept it in her madness.

Shit.

"If you don't mind, could I have these two fliers?" Seraphy only barely keeps his voice from wavering.

"Go ahead," she hands them over, along with a business card. "Call me if you find anything. I'll let the girls know the good news."

"Right," he nods. "I'll give you a call if there's anything to talk about."

"I'm done," Marcoh informs as he rejoins them. "Thank you for your patience, Miss Winters. I trust Doctor Royce here kept you sufficiently entertained?"

"He did. Thank you for taking care of my cousin," she replies politely. "Will either of you be staying long?"

"I really must be getting home, but...?" Marcoh looks over at his protoge.

"I need to get home as well. Little sisters, you understand," Seraphy shakes his head and shrugs.

"I think I do," she replies with a knowing smile.

"Well then, good day Miss Winters," Marcoh gives his farewells, waving gently as he passes out the door.

"Goodbye Miss Winters," Seraphy follows suit.

"So long, Doctor Marcoh," she returns. "Oh, and Doctor Royce?"

"Hm?" Seraphy stops at the exit at her prompting. He turns his head to see what she wants. He finds a charming smile that steals his breath away.

"I wouldn't mind if you called for something other than work."

"A-ah, yes. I'll keep that in mind," he stumbles through his blush.

It takes him half the trip home to remember anything other than Lunaria's sultry smile.

Illyasviel von Einzbern is once more sitting across from a tired and sympathetic looking Seraphy. The missing person fliers lay on the table between them. Chloe stands behind her sister, and the soldiers behind her.

They're still hypnotized, so obviously Chloe did something differently this time.

As far as Seraphy knows, anyway.

"So, what's this about?" Illya raises a brow innocently.

"Look, Illya," Seraphy sighs. "There's no need to hide this from me. You know I've been through something similar."

Inwardly, Illya agrees that the similarities are uncanny. Both lost their mother young, and both now have to care for and raise a little sister. Both went months without a father figure before being sent to Doctor Marcoh, and both have been taken under the man's tutilage to help secure their own futures.

Outwardly, however, she merely presses her lips together for a moment and lets out a long, patient breath.

"Seraphy, I don't have time for this. My father can take care of himself, but my brother is in the hands of criminals. It sucks, but I simply have too much to do to take the time to grieve."

"It's unhealthy," the redhead counters. "Bottling up emotions like that is bad for your health."

Illya can feel Chloe's gaze on her back. She can already tell that Chloe won't let it go now. As Illya's maid and familiar, it is literally Chloe's purpose in life to protect her master's health and happiness.

Chloe will follow orders for almost anything, but allowing Illya to harm herself is not one of them.

Seraphy's semi-amused gaze reveals that he knows it, too.

"Damn you!" Illya curses at him for his trickery. "Fine! I'll take some time off as soon as I have some. But-"

"To grieve or talk to someone about it, right?" Seraphy interrupts. "The latter helps if you're not ready for the former."

Illya glares at him and growls. The redhead calmly raises a brow. Illya grits her teeth when she hears Chloe shifting behind her.

"Yes, to do one of those things. But if my big brother gets hurt because of time wasted-"

"I understand," Seraphy cuts her off again, this time with an accepting nod and a serious look.

"Good," Illya frowns while suppressing the urge to fuse him with the couch.

Chloe is standing behind her sister, so Illya doesn't see her tension visibly evaporate. She mouths a silent thank you to Seraphy through her relieved smile. It seems that the maid was quite worried.

Considering what the magus girl is capable of, Seraphy finds the he is also relieved. No one wants to find out what Illya would do if she snapped. She could probably make it rain fire breathing boulders or something.

Seraphy mentally confirms that yes, fixing Illya's mental issues might just be the greatest contribution he can make to mankind.

"Chloe, make sure she keeps her word, okay? Doctor's orders," he says just in case.

"Understood!" the maid salutes cutely.

"Damn it, Seraphy! Damn you and your red hair!" Illya pouts harder at Chloe's clear 'betrayal.'

"Now that that's taken care of, what were the results of the testing? Can I learn Magecraft? Also, you said there's a book for me to read?" Seraphy smoothly changes the subject, ignoring Illya's half-playful grumbling. It's familiar enough that he knows he isn't about to be killed for his offense.

Besides, that would defeat the purpose of recruiting him.

"Good news, you can both learn and practice Magecraft. Bad news, you only have two circuits of slightly below average quality, so you'll probably never be any good," the homunculus girl explains with undertones of griping. She waves her hand at the table as if tossing a book onto it.

A book appears on the table with a small thump, as if she had really tossed it there.

Seraphy's jaw drops. He closes his mouth, producing a light click when his teeth hit each other.

That book hadn't been on the table a moment ago. Even if Illya turned it invisible somehow, it wouldn't have made a thump-type sound upon being revealed. However, she couldn't have brought it in with her. He saw her as she entered. Her hands were empty and gave no indication that she was holding anything. She didn't set anything down when she sat, and her hands formed fists more than once during their exchange.

Plus, he's supposed to be hypnotism-proof now.

Unless she didn't do that brain modification last night, in which case he may have to re-evaluate how much he can trust Illya... again.

"What?" he half asks, half whimpers as he debates whether his knowledge of how reality functions is being challenged. "Was... was I hypnotized?"

"No, I already added the protections against that," Illya assures him while looking extraordinarily smug. "It won't work for me or Chloe since we're too far from normal humans right now. Lucky you~"

Seraphy chooses to ignore how Illya makes being different from normal humans a temporary thing.

"Okay. Sure. Where did the book come from, then?" he tries very hard not to freak.

"It was astralized and strung along a tether tied to my hand."

"Astr- that doesn't explain anything."

"It was intangible," Chloe supports helpfully.

"Then how did she move it?!" Seraphy throws his hands up in the air, then stops and settles into a thinking pose. "No, wait. If we assume 'astralized' objects can only interact with items that have a spiritual presence, then I guess it would be easy if you used some astralized twine. No need to worry about the furniture or gravity."

"Ding ding ding! That's right!" Illya opens her arms wide. She then puffs out her chest to brag. "It was actually pretty hard, you know? I had to infuse a lot of Ether since books don't normally have souls!"

"I... suppose it would indeed be difficult to permanently bond certain organic compounds to processed plant matter," the redhead agrees, puzzled at how something like sweet oil of vitriol or anisole might help at all.

"No, the elem- just read the book! It'll make sense!" Illya demands, pointing imperiously at said book.

Seraphy looks at the book. The book has a strip of leather wrapped across the side. That strip of leather ends in a metal latch on the front, keeping it closed. The keyhole on the latch assures him that it's locked... somehow. He's neither a locksmith nor a mage.

For now.

"The book is a mystic code tuned to your specific spiritual signature. Only you and I can open it," Illya explains. "Just in case, I used a similar Mystery to make it so that the pages are blank to anyone besides us as well."

Somewhat skeptical despite all previous evidence, Seraphy brushes his thumb against the lock. There's a soft click, followed by the latch popping up off the other piece of metal attached to the front cover. Pulling the lock and leather binding aside, he finds that the metal square on the book's front is completely flat and without anything for the lock to actually hold on to.

It's a magic book, so he's not entirely sure what he was expecting.

Opening said book brings him to a table of contents, followed by a short introduction and a primer on safety practices. Diagrams and walls of professional text appear as he flips through the pages. In the back he finds a glossary, index, and even a references section.

"I don't suppose you have the books you've referenced currently on your person, do you?" he asks wryly.

"No, they're back in the castle," Illya shakes her head. "I have them all memorized, though."

"Really?" Seraphy looks at her in disbelief. "That's more than fifty books! You have page accurate references for direct quotes!"

"Blame my jerk magus grandpa," she crosses her arms and frowns. "He was a jerk."

"For making you study alchemy. Which you enjoy doing," he deadpans with even more disbelief than before.

"No, for dumping the whole Einzbern library directly into my brain," she refutes. "It hurt."

"Right. I guess it must since you didn't do it to me," he says, changing things up by mixing his disbelief with both relief and dissapointment.

"I should have, but I didn't," Illya grumbles, not bothering to mention that the spell doesn't work anymore. "Is there anything else? I need to call Nuen to make sure we got our iron shipment."

Seraphy has plenty that he wants to talk about. However, all of it is connected to subjects Illya is putting off for later.

"No, nothing," Seraphy shakes his head.

"Then I'm going."

The elder homunculus hops to her feet and starts to leave, the younger turning to follow once she's passed. The sound suppression barrier and Flashpoint hypnosis are dismissed with a thought. The soldier escorts blink once or twice as they come to.

Seraphy makes sure the book is closed and locked before they're fully aware again. No need to take chances of them growing suspicious. He makes sure to send them thankful nods as they also turn to leave, though. Their work is quite dangerous.

Illya's voice can be heard on the hallway phone soon after her procession leaves the room. Chloe's humming accompanies the stove being turned on. The sound of Marcoh and Corniche's tea party filter down from upstairs. Birds chirp outside the window, and the neighborhood kids shout as they play in the street.

Now sitting alone, Seraphy realizes it's unsettling how sounds of life are cut off to make way for magus business. Perhaps, he muses, it's the only way that magus culture can survive. Given how enamored they are with walking next to death...

Seraphy sighs.

The last twenty-four hours have been very trying, and it's all Illya's fault.

Next: Heaven's Feel 16

Then: Heaven's Feel 17

After That: Freezing Arc~

McDougal focused arc beginning on Freezing 04. Planned to run anywhere between 5 and 10 chapters. As with all things in life, may involve giant robots.