Guest responses:

Knee:
Well, a little something might be up. :):) Here's that next chapter already! It's cool that you think this being my break story is cool, haha. And no worries, sometimes procrasinating on one thing is only a way to masterfully be productive at another thing, so even if you feel that you would procastinate eventually you might find something else equally or more valuable to spend your time on. A lot of the little things in life we think are distractions or so on can actually be pretty important. I think so, anyway.

"Why not go with him", huh? I can't say much to that, other than that you shall see. :)

.

StayingForever:
Lol, I love your idea of what you thought the story was going to be based on the title. Honestly, maybe one of these days I should change the summary to a real summary, but I'm kind of a troll and like it the way it is. And no worries, no offense was given at all; I like that honesty and it was funny to me besides.

That said, I'm really glad you liked the first chapter so much! That made me really happy, and I'm extra glad you liked Killua's characterization here. I think we forget, by his assassinness and often apathetic attitude, how much of a kid he still is. He's a self-possessed kid, but even though he's conflicted and has a darkness inside of him, he likes being free and doing what he wants. That's how I see him, anyway, and it reflects here. Most of HxH isn't about darkness, but adventure! and friendship! and I think that's important to show in all the little ways.

I hope the rest of the story has lived up to your impression of the first chapter. If you want, it'd be cool to see what you think now, since a good start and living up to a good start well can be two quite different things. I'm always looking to improve. :)

Chapter Eighteen

Gon looked from side to side, sweeping his gaze warily as he entered the mansion. His shoulders were stiff; fishing rod ready at his back, and he marched in like a soldier going into war.

"Relax," the old man's voice came from beside him. Gon had made sure to hold himself at least a meter away from the man, but he hadn't seemed keen on giving Gon any more distance than that.

It was the old senator. Senator Mabda, Gon had learned from that nice lady.

"I don't trust you," Gon shot back, instincts on edge. He kept quiet after that, watching for the old man's reaction. Where was this prickling feeling coming from?

The old man barked a surprised laugh. He treated Gon with a smile.

"So honest, for one so young." He stopped, then pulled the door open in front of him. "Well, here we are. Why don't you come sit?"

Gon waited for the man to enter, before following. He was treated to the sight of a large opulent room, a long table in the center of it, a chandelier hanging overhead. He wrinkled his nose at it. Too fancy, not at all simple and good.

Reluctantly, when the old man took a seat at the end of the table, Gon took the seat across from him. He looked around. It really seemed like they were alone.

"Well, then, young Hunter," the man said, smiling pleasantly so that the corners of his eyes creased. "What did you come here to speak about? Surely, you had something pressing on your mind."

Gon's attention snapped back to him.

"I'm looking for my friend," he said, pushing forward a photo. It was of Hakira Kyoshi; he didn't have any photos of Killua, but hers had been on the Hunter site. "I think this woman attacked her."

Mabda's eyebrows raised, and he took the photo, lifting it into his two weathered hands, up to the light.

"Aah, yes. Hakira Kyoshi. I remember her well. So that's why you went looking for Toshkiyo, was it?" The man smiled, the same nostalgic smile he had given in the council room, when he had given Leorio Kyoshi's lover's address.

"What do you know?" Gon asked seriously.

The smile slowly died.

"Such a serious child," he muttered. "Can't an old man spend a moment reminiscing on old memories?"

Gon didn't answer to that, waiting instead.

"Well," Mabda said, meeting his eyes sharply now, old man visage transformed into something sharper, a slow smile spreading over his face. "I suppose it's time to get to business."

The unsettling feeling strengthened. Gon tensed, leaning forward in his seat, getting ready to make a quick escape.

"What do you know?" Gon asked again. He wasn't liking this.

"Not very much," the old man confessed glibly. "I, however… have been known to collect the esoteric. I am lucky you came here. Boy, give me your Hunter's license, and I will give you a million Jenny."

Gon bristled.

"No way," he said bluntly, scowling.

"And one piece of info," the old man raised the stakes, still with that spread, eager smile, like that of a gambler. "About Hakira Kyoshi, and, likely, your missing friend."

Gon actually considered it. Then he crossed his arms, and shook his head firmly.

"No. Pick something else. I don't want to give it to you."

The smile disappeared again, and the old man's eyebrows raised. His sense of danger prickled again, but nothing was happening.

"Hmm," he rocked back. "A tricky child, aren't you?"

"Just tell me," Gon said, frustrated at this situation and not knowing why his instincts were buzzing like this. "I don't want to give you my license and I don't want your money. Just tell me what I need to know, and I'll be gone. I just want to find my friend."

The old man frowned, then shrugged in a devil-may-care fashion that really didn't fit his face. "Oh, well, I was hoping you would be more cooperative. Now I see that you won't."

The old man snapped his fingers abruptly.

"I don't really want your license, Gon," he continued serenely, as suddenly the doors burst open, hidden enclosures were revealed, and dozens of men in black suits began streaming in into the room and pointed black metal guns at Gon from every direction.

"I just want you."

Gon leapt to his feet, the chair pushing back with a screech. A shot fired, near his feet. He looked down at it, eyes wide when he saw the cartridge smoking and embedded into the floor.

"Yes," Mabda said. "I only pick the best. All these men are nen users."

Gon's gaze snapped upwards, to the old man.

The senator smiled.

"Wondering how I know?" Mabda asked, expression still serene. "Well, I just have a finger in a few pies, myself."

Gon looked around him again, at the dozens of pointed guns at him. This isn't good, he thought. He faced Mabda again, and again that shiver of danger ran over him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked the man, frowning.

The man inspected him, steeping his fingers together.

"I would like you to meet my master," the man said, finally. "I had a feeling you wouldn't come willingly, when you refused me on such a little thing so." He smiled again. "Besides, some things are easier done with a bit of force. You'll come willingly now, won't you, boy?"

Gon's frown deepened.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," he announced. It didn't seem very healthy.

The old man laughed again, throwing back his head in a hearty gesture, like that was the most normal occurrence. Some of the men shifted uncomfortably, but for most, their impassive faces didn't twitch.

"Well then," the man said, recovering. "I suppose we'll have to make you then." His face flattened. "Shoot his leg."

It was the warning that saved Gon. Eyes wide, he leapt into the air, just before a bullet occupied the space where his left leg had been. He landed on the far wall, but as one, all the guns trained themselves again on him.

"I'm not playing, you know," the man said casually. "I will kill you if I have to. Only, I thought you were a bit better than the other one. Leorio, was it?"

Gon's eyes narrowed in on the man. He felt angry. He reached back a hand to his fishing pole -

A warning shot fired, right next to his arm, so close he could feel the wind of it. His eyes widened.

"Nuh-uh," the senator said, almost playfully, looking less and less like a kindly old man with every passing second. "No weapons. Give up. You can't win this one, trust me."

Gon swallowed, throat dry. He didn't want to give up… His eyes flitted between the black holes of the nen-enforced guns, roving over the room, and he instinctively knew that this was a fight he couldn't win, not as he was, not when he was so outnumbered and they had him trapped here.

"Why are you after us?" he asked. "What did we do to you?"

"Oh, nothing," the man said brightly. "I only need you to resolve a little… mess we had."

Gon's eyebrows furrowed. "Mess?" he asked.

"Yes." The man watched him carefully, lips curved. "It has to do with your little friend."

Gon's attention sharpened.

"Killua?"

"So that's his name," the man mused. He shook his head, sighing. "I never expected Kyoshi to go after him, you see? He went ahead and caused an international incident. My master was so angry with me for leaving such loose ends."

"Where is Killua?" Gon demanded.

"When you two appeared, looking for Kyoshi, I couldn't believe my luck," the man said, ignoring him. "Two young men looking for Hakira Kyoshi, after a purported attack from her on the street? It was like all the pieces fell into my lap."

He leaned in, a gleam in his eyes.

"Tell me," he said. "How is Zezu?"

Gon looked at him in anger. He gritted his teeth, memory of all the guns pointed at him disappearing as the old man's smug face seemed to grow in his view.

"Where. Is. Killua?" he asked again.

The old man drew back in disappointment. He inspected his nails, eyebrows somewhat raised, unimpressed.

"Just take him to the cellar," he said to the room. "I trust you know what to do."

With that, he patted down the pants to his suit, and got to his feet smoothly, betraying the agile motion he held beneath that aged body. He began walking the door, dismissing the tense aura of the room as if it were nothing.

As if on an afterthought, the man paused by the door, then turned back to meet Gon's eyes. His own were empty, flat, and Gon realized that that was what had been sending warning bells to his mind the entire time. They were the flat, cold eyes of a murderer.

"Cooperate," he ordered flatly. "If you do, you might yet see your friend again."

Then the old man was gone, and one of the mafia men brought his gun behind Gon's neck, slamming it down so hard that Gon was immediately knocked into unconsciousness.

.

Gon woke up in the dark, head ringing. He waited until his vision cleared and his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

He was in some sort of storage room, boxes everywhere, the room dank and dark. Barely any light streamed in, but there was a crack underneath the door that let in a little. He clambered to the door and pressed his ear against it; he could hear two people talking, just outside the door.

He realized his back was too light, and he hurriedly patted his back, only to find his fishing rod missing. It wasn't anywhere to be found.

A pang went through him. That had been his dad's fishing rod, and he had had many adventures with it himself.

He shook his head. That wasn't the thing to think about right now. He needed to figure out how to get out of here.

Standing wobbly to his feet, he banged on the door with the back of his fist.

"Hey!" he called. "Can you let me out of here?"

He waited. Finally, a disturbed, low voice came back to him.

"... Can't, kid. It's the job."

Gon frowned.

"But why not! I won't tell anyone if you let me out."

A sigh.

"That's not the point - "

"Hey!" A second voice said. "Don't talk with the prisoner!"

Gon sighed. "Prisoner", huh?

He slumped against the door, letting his back press against it. If they weren't going to let him out, he'd have to think of other ways.

At least, he thought optimistically, his lead had been good. He had come to the right place; this guy really knew something about Killua. And what had he said? "If you do, you might just see your friend again." That might mean that Gon would see Killua again!

He wondered briefly if he really should sit still and wait here. Maybe that was his best shot at seeing Killua? But he didn't think that the old man, the senator, was very good to be around. He had ordered someone to shoot Gon's foot. Gon didn't want to be around anyone like that.

But what was that about an "international incident"? Gon thought, hopping to his feet, beginning a series of stretches. It helped him think, and also made sure he could move all just fine even after being knocked out.

He didn't think Killua had been involved in anything international, that he had seen anyway. Besides, Kurapika or Leorio would have found out on the netscape if it was anything big.

He leaned into a leg deeply, before shifting in onto the other one. He stretched out his hands over him, letting his arms and back feel all tight and loosened.

Well, he wouldn't figure it out, just sitting here. Grinning, he pulled more aura to his fist, ensuring he was in a strong Ten, before expanding into a more powerful Ren. He walked to the door, and pushed it.

"O-ouch!"

Grimacing, he waved his red hand in the air, tears in the corner of his eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. The door was hard, not at all like the stone rocks at Heavens Arena. When he looked back at it, there was barely a dent. What was it made out of?

"Kid…" A voice called through the door. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Gon lied quickly.

A skeptical silence followed.

"Don't talk to him," the second voice said brusquely. It seemed to be the only thing he could say.

Gon pressed himself against the door.

"Are you sure you won't let me out?" he asked again.

An audible sigh.

"Pleaase?" Gon begged.

"No," the second voice snapped. "Now shut up."

"Looked like you're the one talking to the kid," the first one commented dryly. Then, to Gon, he said, "Don't worry. Our employer's not the worst. Doubt he'd do too much to a kid like you, 'specially if you behave."

Gon raised his eyebrows, frowning.

"O-okay," he said, dubiously, not really believing it. He sat down again, crossing his legs. And thought.

And thought.

And thought.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm bored!" he said finally. "Let me out!"

This time, there was no answer. The two mafia men stayed silent.

Gon sighed. He looked around again. The door was a no go; the only vent was on the ceiling and far tinier than him. Maybe… he could go through the wall?

He tried it, but his punch only crunched it in a little, some plaster flaking off. After a couple more trials, around the room, it soon became clear that he was underground, the walls near infinitely thick. Even the boxes were largely empty or useless, filled with miscellaneous items like old clothing or rope. He couldn't think of another way out, so he was stuck.

Frowning, he slumped against the door again.

He supposed he would just have to wait. He hoped it wouldn't be long.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He would spend his remaining time here, he decided, practicing his nen.

.

He was wondering if Leorio would find him, when the door finally swung open.

Two impassive-faced mafia men stood there, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Gon thought they were the same ones who had talked to him some hours ago; he hadn't heard anyone changing shifts, anyway.

Behind him, emerged the old man Mabda. And… someone else?

Either way, it didn't matter. Gon leapt to his feet.

"This is the boy," Mabda said, stepping through the doorway.

A moment later, the second figure stepped through. His face was furiously scarred, so that even his eyes had disappeared behind the scarring, and thin tubes connected everywhere on his body. A thick black tube jutted from his throat.

He wielded his attention onto Gon, and Gon, despite himself, froze. There was a magnitude to this man, a danger, that even Mabda hadn't possessed. The sheer weight of this man's presence was far closer to Hisoka's, though the nature of it was less hungry, and more self-assured and dominatingly overbearing.

For a moment, Gon forgot about all plans of escape, instead straightening himself up.

"Hmm…" the man said, and Gon got the impression that he was peering at him curiously. "Young, aren't you?"

When Gon didn't respond, the man stepped forward, indomitable presence moving with him. Gon leaned away, but the man stopped, still some feet away, eyelessly looking down at him.

"I will be brief, young one. I am not here to hurt you. In fact, if you desire, I can send you to your friend, whom you have been so earnestly looking for." The man smiled liplessly. "I must apologize for the crude methods of my colleague. They were entirely unnecessary, and I assure you that you will not suffer the same treatment at my hands."

Gon saw Mabda's face darken at the words, but he didn't pay much attention. He was riveted by this man's presence.

"You can… take me, to Killua?" Gon asked after a moment, feeling confused.

"Yes. Though I must tell you, your friend has ruined some of my plans, however inadvertently. If I take you to him, would you make it up to me, little one?"

Gon shook his head to clear it. Then he looked up at the man, eyes meeting where eyes should be.

"What are you asking me to do?" Gon asked suspiciously. This man had a strong presence, but he wouldn't let it daunt him.

The man smiled.

"You're a Hunter, are you not, little one?"

Gon, hesitantly, nodded his head.

"I would like you to just send one small, simple message to Chairman Netero," the scarred man said. "Can you do that?"

Gon frowned. After all this, searching for weeks, being caught into a prison...

"That's it?"

"Yes." The man paused. "Though, there is one additional condition, if I take you to where your friend is. Think about it carefully before you accept this deal."

Gon waited, looking at the man intently.

"You cannot come back."

Gon's frown deepened, and he cocked his head to the side. Confusion took over any remaining vestiges of fear.

"Come back?" he asked. "Come back where?"

"To anybody you know in this world," the man explained. "Your friends, your family. You would be giving it up for him."

"I can't take an airship back?" Gon asked uncertainly, eyebrows furrowed, and the scarred man chuckled, shaking his head.

"No, little one. This is a one way trip."

Gon thought hard for a moment. He then turned a scowl onto the man, accusingly.

"Killua isn't dead, is he?"

The man smile diminished, and he eyelessly peered back at Gon.

"I sometimes forget how different our worlds are," he muttered, almost idly. "No, child, your friend is not dead."

Gon felt that the words were true, and a sigh of relief went through him. He looked down, eyes tracing the dusty cellar floor.

"Why?" he asked suddenly, words bursting out of him, looking up again at the scarred man's face. "Why did that woman take him? Why is all this happening?"

He felt inexplicably angry, his right hand crunching into a fist. He didn't feel that things could be resolved this easily.

His gaze flickered to Senator Mabda, his anger breaking the transfixation this man's presence had on him. The old man's face was impassive, but through the weight of the scarred man's presence he could still feel a tickle of danger, of bloodlust.

He was still getting this bad feeling. Something wasn't right. He didn't like that this man was with Mabda either, who had tried to shoot him and had dragged him into this jail.

He turned his eyes back to the scarred man, eyes hard like flint.

"I don't trust you," Gon said adamantly, refusing to give in to the heavy presence of the man. "Why would you take me back to Killua?"

"The boy said the same thing to me," the senator murmured to the scarred man. "He's a recalcitrant brat, I'm telling you – "

The scarred man lifted a hand, and the senator choked into silence.

"Leave," the man ordered, without looking backwards.

Gon watched as the senator stiffly stepped out the door, the mafia men, trading nervous glances, following behind him.

"And shut the door," the man ordered.

The door swung shut with a clang, casting the room into darkness. Gon swallowed, fear returning in the dark, the man's strong presence the only thing looming in his senses, and stepped backwards. He pressed himself against a nearby wall, the tactile plaster texture of the wall reassuring to his state of mind.

"Child," the man said. "Don't be afraid."

Some of the overbearing presence lifted, softening.

"I have no real purpose in coming here, other than fixing the mistakes of an errant servant. The only thing I have to gain is your goodwill, and perhaps the goodwill of your friend. If you wish to walk out, you are free to do so."

Gon's eyes had begun adjusting to the dark again. He could see the dark silhouette of the man against a dark background, the shapes of boxes in the back.

"I can tell you that if you do not accept this deal, however, you will never see your friend again. He is too far for you to reach. This is your only chance to find him."

Gon's gaze snapped to the silhouette of the man.

"Ahh, I see now you are listening."

The man was silent for a moment.

"Think about my offer. You are free to roam this mansion, and leave as you will. I will tell Mabda to not impede you."

Gon remained silent.

He heard the man turn, clothes rustling. His footsteps walked to the door, and with a heavy creak, the door opened. Light streamed in, but without hesitation, the scarred man strode out into the hallway, spoke softly with the senator for some moments, then was gone. Gon followed his presence - the man was moving away, striding through the mansion at a relaxed pace. When he felt the man's presence settle, far from him now, elsewhere in the mansion, he at last turned his gaze back to the cellar door.

The door was still open.

Gon tentatively made his way towards it, only pausing at the entrance to shoot Mabda a look, who stepped aside with only an impassive gaze in response, before striding into the rest of the mansion, not quite sure where he was going.

It was times like this when Gon felt like a small fish in a large pond. At the Heavens Arena, he had tested his strength against the other opponents and Hisoka, and had often found his strength to be lacking. Hisoka was an unboundable wall at his current level, but he had been able to overcome his other trials by training and becoming stronger. But here, he faced something different. He felt his opponents wouldn't give him time to grow.

Mabda had been dangerous, beating him with sheer numbers and trickery. That loss grated on him; he was sure Killua would have called him stupid for it. The scared man though… His presence made Gon shiver. The last time Gon had felt that way was when Hisoka's bloodlust had been released on the stage at Heavens Arena, and this man hadn't even been directing his intent towards him.

Gon found himself at the door, swinging it open, fresh air crashing onto his nostrils. He breathed deep; it felt good, after being locked into that cellar for some hours.

At the doorway, he hesitated.

Was it really true that if he left now, he would never see Killua again?

And if he left to go see Killua, he would never be able to return home again? To see Aunt Mito, or Leorio, or Kurapika, or Kon, back at Whale Island?

He didn't get what the man meant by not being able to "come back". Where exactly was Killua? What had happened?

These thoughts were frustrating. He had no real answers to them, only more questions.

There was still one more pressing question, however.

If he left…

Would he ever be able to find his dad?

Gon thought of his journey so far. Catching the monster fish from the lake, getting Mito's permission to take the Hunter exam. Meeting Leorio, then Kurapika on the ship. Traveling through Zaban City to qualify for the Hunter's exam, then meeting those Navigators.

Arriving at the Hunter's exam, meeting Tonpa and Killua, who he became fast friends with. Racing to the top of the stairs at the end of the first exam! Messing up at Menchi's exam, but then getting a second chance. Going down Trick Tower with Leorio, Kurapika, and Killua. Spending all those hours of lost time in the lounge, messing around and playing games, learning how to use Killua's skateboard and teaching Killua how to use his fishing rod.

Passing the Hunter's Exam. Killua's expulsion and their subsequent chase to his family's home. His friend's happiness that Gon and the others had come for him. Their fights at the Heavens Arena, spending months together to climb that tower. Their return to Whale Island and the time spent there. And finally, their new adventure in Yorknew city.

There were so many good memories.

He didn't want it to be over.

He hesitated.

But… would it be over if he wasn't with Killua, or if he stopped chasing his dad?

He wanted to meet Ging, badly. It was what he wanted since he was little, since he learned that his dad had run off to pursue becoming a Hunter. That his dad had left him, for something that must have been wonderful. He wanted to know what it was like, to be a Hunter, and find him.

But then he had met Killua. His first friend who was the same age as him. He had never had many friends on Whale Island, whose population was all old fishermen and adults and no kids his age. Killua was the first – and Killua had told him, that he was Killua's first real friend too. They had been having fun together. He liked being with Killua. He didn't want to leave him. He hadn't wanted Killua to disappear.

His hands tightened into a fist.

Making his decision, he stomped back into the mansion, letting the door swing close behind him. Tracking down the man's strong presence, he walked up the flight of stairs, down a corridor, and found himself in a small, comfortable study where the man sat, calmly behind a desk, fingers steepled. A piece of paper sat in front of him, and the man stared at it thoughtfully.

"Why can't I go see Killua and come back here? Couldn't we both come back together?" Gon asked, agonized, interrupting the scarred man's thoughts.

The man inspected him for a moment, raising his scarred face in his direction.

"It might be possible in time," the man admitted without a hitch, "but nothing to count on. It is simply the price of travel, and something you must swear upon."

Gon scowled, looking at the floor.

"But I see that you have already made your decision."

Gon nodded, after a pause, sullen.

"You will take my message to Netero?"

Gon nodded again.

"Understand that you must tell no one of this. You may say your goodbyes, but any details of this meeting must be kept confidential."

Gon looked up, startled.

"But – what about Netero?"

That wasn't the only thing he wanted to ask. But somehow, he couldn't find himself having a reason to explain the meeting with the scar-faced man anyway, if he was about to leave everyone behind. He wouldn't want to worry them.

"Only him," the man said. "And when you return, I will take you to your friend."

Gon's eyebrows were furrowed, but he said nothing, silently agreeing to the terms. He had already decided, after all.

"In two weeks time, come back here. Mabda will know how to contact me. Is that enough time?"

Gon hesitated.

He then firmed up his resolve. He had told himself that he needed to find Killua quickly, hadn't he? Two weeks was already too much for his friend. Even if it left him so little time now, anything could happen in two weeks.

"Is Killua safe?" Gon asked pressingly.

The man gave him a curious look, lips stretching out thoughtfully.

"My sources suggest so," he said levelly.

Gon nodded, then sighed.

"Two weeks is fine," he said. He was really doing this. He turned his gaze back to the man's scarred visage. "What do you want me to tell Netero-san?"

"Just this," the man said, a smile glinting across his face. "The Symbol of Evil is back."

Gon repeated the words back to himself, his eyebrows furrowed, then nodded to himself.

"Got it," Gon said. "'The symbol of evil is back.' Then you'll take me to Killua."

The man nodded levelly, and Gon got the feeling that the man was watching him closely.

Soon after, it was agreed and the meeting was over. Gon stomped out of the mansion, heavy thoughts on his mind. He would have to find Chairman Netero now, and tell Aunt Mito, Leorio, and Kurapika goodbye. He hoped they wouldn't fault him too much for his decision. But he felt he needed to find Killua, and be with his important friend again.

And maybe, once he got there, there would be a way back home, after all. Maybe it wouldn't be a goodbye forever. Maybe he could bring Killua back, and they could continue their adventures and meet Gon's dad together and then travel the world. The scarred man had said "it might be possible", and Gon was willing to fight for that chance.

.

Mabda watched the boy go out the door wordlessly. He turned to his master, face as serene and impassive as he could force it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, finally, hiding the steaming anger in him. No, he would never get angry at his master, who had done so much for him.

No, he was angry at this boy.

Why had his master been so kind to him? He should have used him, taken him as blackmail to suppress the threat of that boy in the master's universe. Convince the brat to recount his words, make everyone think that his tale of a "different world" was but a lie. It wouldn't be enough to restore ignorance, but it would be enough to cast doubt on the existence of another dimension. It was the best plan for minimizing losses, and the reason why he had concocted taking the silver-haired brat's friends when the opportunity had fallen into his lap.

His master chuckled.

"This is why you can never succeed as a strategist, Mabda. You think too small, always resorting to force too easily."

Mabda bristled at the sting of the words, but forced himself to find the lesson in them.

"Then… why, Master? What do you have to gain by doing this?"

All for One, as he was known in his own universe, didn't turn his gaze back upon Mabda, but he felt his prickling eyes all the same.

"I have always played the game by courting favor," his master said at last. "It never does harm to treat even your worst enemies with courtesy, until, of course, the moment is ripe to twist the knife. In this case… I found it amusing to use a small boy of Netero's ilk to pass on my message of declared war."

Mabda's eyebrows furrowed.

"Besides," the man said, grinning unexpectedly, adopting a strangely casual attitude, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe the boy will turn out to be useful one day, no? He is a Hunter, after all, so there must be some strength in him. Doing him a small favor, aligning the cards to predispose him to… my pet project, in my universe, would certainly do no harm." A thoughtful pause, then the man said, voice pointedly lazy, "In addition, I believe it resolves some of the troubles you might have had, if the Hunter Association had come to investigate Zoldyck's disappearance at the behest of this boy. Better to turn him to our side first and have him out of the way, isn't it?"

"But," Mabda said, unable to stop himself. "What about the secret, of the two worlds? Hadn't you wanted to keep it hidden? Surely, the presence of another boy in your world would only…"

The scarred man frowned at him.

"The cat is long since out of the bag," he said. "Here is where you must think bigger. There's no sense suppressing the tide when it's far too late, you see? In times like these, you must catch the momentum and swing it in your favor. This is only a small step in doing so, but perhaps an important one."

Mabda's face finally lit up in understanding. He bowed respectfully, deeply, to his master. He would have to think on it further, but he thought he understood the criticism now. His entire approach had been wrong, and contrary to the wishes of his master.

"I see," he said finally. "You are truly the superior tactician. Forgive me for doubting you."

"No forgiveness is needed," the Symbol of Evil said. "I find it refreshing to be questioned, for it takes me along tracks I might have not thought of alone." He smiled at Mabda, in almost a grandfatherly way, contrary to Mabda's far more advanced appearance but in line with the Master's superior experience. "Well, I suppose I will take my leave now. Any more orders of business on this side of the world?"

Mabda shook his head wordlessly.

"Good."

Without looking at him again, his master stepped forward, then with a pop, vanished.

Mabda watched the air, finding the undulations fascinating. He then turned his thoughts back to that boy, the chairman of the Hunter Association, and his master's words.

"Declared war", hmm?

He felt a tingle of excitement. His master always knew to start the best games, and better yet, never lost any of them.

Maybe, Mabda mused, as he strolled deeper into his mansion, he'd live yet to see the fall of the great Hunter's Association. Of course, his master's games always ran in complex circuits, so he could never be sure of the ultimate goal.

Whatever it was, he was sure this last game would provide him some amusement, at least, before he reached his final days. He was an old man, after all, and there wasn't much left to live for other than to sate his own curiosity and sense of play. He would see how this played out, and do his part. And perhaps in the process, he would achieve his own youthful ambitions as well.