This starts right after chapter 113 of Black Sky.

A Mafia Murder Mystery

Drin-drin-dri-dri-driiing!

His phone was ringing. Why was his phone ringing? It wasn't morning yet! Maínomai flailed, almost knocking the phone off his nightstand before he managed to grab hold of it and answer.

"Haló, Maínomai speaking," he mumbled in Romanian; he hadn't recognised the number that had come up but since the non-Varia people he'd given his number to could be counted on one hand, there were very few people it could be.

"This is the prince of Denmark," said a strained female voice in Classical Greek. "We are bereft; please collect the little javelins from the dragon-slayer beside the home of the warrior of heaven in the heart of the lion and hide them from our sight."

Maínomai instantly went into mission-mode; Hamlet needed him to hide the children and one of the Vongola had died; probably Don Nono or Federico. "I'll be there," he said shortly, throwing off his covers and setting up a quick Enchantment so he could see in the dark. There was a click and then the phone went dead; Hamlet had hung up on him. Maínomai dropped the phone so he could pull on his boots, realised he should probably put on something other than his pyjamas –no time for that Serena was in danger– Altered his pyjamas into a replica of his current Varia uniform, grabbed the go-bag from under his bed –set up for last-minute missions– threw on his coat and Altered the flow of time and space around himself so he could get out of the building as fast as possible.

He knew exactly where he was going –the church of Michael the Archangel in Corleone– and while teleportation was not a trick he used at all in the normal run of things, that didn't mean he didn't know how. Well, the way he did it was probably a bit different to the way those who specialised in transportation did it, but his way still worked so long as he knew where he was going and could visualise it.

Maínomai knew where he was on a map, knew where his destination was, could visualise the distance and direction and the specifics of where he wanted to arrive…

The horizon wasn't visible yet and the street-lights weren't lit, suggesting it was before five o'clock in the morning. It was also pretty cold and a bit damp; Maínomai quickly fastened his coat and fished his scarf out of one of his pockets, wrapping it around his neck and the lower half of his face. He could only see his surroundings due to his Enchanted vision, which told him he was exactly where he had intended to be. There were a few cars parked by the sides of the road, but it was the grubby van parked slightly around the corner, right below the old church. Somebody had used their finger to draw in the dirt coating it, sketching two upward-pointing arrows… or spears.

Lanza –Spanish for spear– coded message –contact– caution –check for surveillance or traps– still don't know what's going on…

The van's engine was cold, its cab was dark and it was riding high enough to be empty, but none of that meant anything when Mists got involved; making a cargo near-weightless was a very simple Enchantment. He was there to meet a 'dragon-slayer' –that was the only part of Hamlet's instructions that he hadn't been able to instantly decode– but going by the rest of the conversation it was probably a reference to someone's name. A Giorgio probably, named after Saint George.

Maínomai knocked on the back door of the van, which opened a crack to reveal a tall and skinny brunette with very low-level Latent Cloud Flames and a considerable resemblance to Fuseau around the hands and eye-sockets. Fuseau's hands were very spider-like and this teen shared that trait.

"Madman?" The teenager asked hoarsely in Polish. He had the look of somebody kicked out of bed after three hours sleep and running entirely on adrenaline.

"Dragonslayer," Maínomai reciprocated evenly in the same tongue. "The spears?"

The teenager opened the door further and silently waved the assassin inside. Maínomai entered the van and allowed the door to be closed behind him, sealing the space within once more.

The inside of the van was nothing like the outside; it was quite blatantly a Territory. More interesting was that the Territory looked like somebody had mashed together Amadeo and Serena's bedrooms into a space the size of Erica's sitting room in the Vongola Mansion: there were the respective bookshelves bracketed by differently coloured wallpaper, there the toy boxes –with more toys scattered across the floor– and even Amadeo's bed and Serena's cot, both complete with sleeping occupants. The patchwork carpet was actually faintly amusing.

"My mother is one of Housekeeping's Territory Masters," the teenager mumbled in Italian, offering Maínomai a large holdall. "Just take whatever and she'll put the rest back."

Resembles Fuseau –mother is a Territory Master– related to fellow assassin? Probable –Fuseau is Vongola-affiliated– highly capable and completely trusted –Housekeeping's Territory Masters are the security system and everything else is just window dressing– drawing attention away from the Mists– what went wrong that one of the Vongola is dead? Not relevant –children the priority– provision requirements…

Maínomai nodded, his mind whirling with all the things he was going to need in order to care for his daughter and her brother for an indefinite length of time. Warm clothing for both, nappies for Serena, books and toys to keep them entertained, Amadeo's school-books so his education wouldn't suffer, medical records for both children in case of accidents…

First things first; Maínomai Altered the holdall to be five times larger on the inside and to weigh one-fifteenth of what it should. He was going to have to carry both children as well as the luggage, so everything had to be as light as possible. Then he began packing: Serena's nappy bag and the other things necessary for changing her and keeping her clean, all her clothes –she didn't have that many really as she was growing so having more than was strictly necessary was a waste– the books she liked him to read to her –the entire shelf of them– and her soft toys, all except the one she was cuddling. He also left out the baby snowsuit; Serena would need to be wearing that when they left.

Then he started on Amadeo's belongings, which required him to be more discerning. Winter clothing only, with a few lighter things for indoors, slippers, a range of shoes –the ones the five-year-old liked wearing best– the two large, lidded boxes full of Lego, a selection of newer books and a handful of old favourites, the boy's school-bag and drawing materials, the Game Boy Colour and all the cartridges Maínomai could find –Amadeo always left them lying around– and the bug-out bag containing copies of medical records and alternative identity documents that Erica kept hidden in a false compartment in the base of her son's wardrobe. He also pocketed the gun she kept there; it might come in handy.

Details of situation still unknown –assassination–enemy attack–coup attempt by allied Family–accident– plans minimal and flexible –await more data– security is key–

Mainomai then carefully dressed his sleeping daughter in her snowsuit and Conjured up a climbing harness to strap her to his chest with; they wouldn't be travelling for very long but she needed to be secure. He put on the harness under his coat, fastened his daughter into it then did up his coat over the top, Altering the coat lining so it lay flat and the baby was invisible, tucking the stuffed rabbit she'd been cuddling in beside her. Then he went over to Amadeo, put some thick socks on the boy's feet and gently dressed him in his coat directly over his pyjamas. The five-year-old mumbled but went along with things; Maínomai knew he was still fast asleep and probably wouldn't wake up unless something actually exploded.

Erica's son nominally dressed, Maínomai retrieved Amadeo's holdout knife from where it was hidden between the headboard and the mattress, slipped it in the boy's coat pocket, easily shouldered both his bags then picked up the five-year-old and balanced him on his hip. Another quick Alteration so Amadeo wouldn't feel the cold; now he was good to go.

"Safe journey," the teenage Cloud said tiredly, opening the van door pasted incongruously between two closed windows so that Maínomai could leave the Territory.

Would leaving through one of the other doors enable me to access the Iron Fort? Likely –Territory Mastery allows for the Territory to be accessed from physically distant locations– Mental manipulation of space –need to get Serena and Amadeo to safety– travel is vulnerable –move directly to destination–

Maínomai nodded as he stepped back outside, already concentrating on his desired destination: the rooftop garden of his and Pýř's house. It was remote but not too remote, fully stocked with edibles including food suitable for growing children and he could very easily ramp up the security to the point that even people who knew where it was wouldn't be able to find it unless he wanted them to.

When the Emergency Muster rang loud and obnoxious in his ears Pýř buried his face in his pillow and swore horribly for a full twenty seconds before rolling out of bed and throwing on his uniform. None of the Varia suites were fully soundproof –that would be dangerous– so Multiplying his hearing enabled him to pick up the sounds of swearing, rushing feet and people tripping over things in the dark all around him. However the room next door was oddly quiet; had Maínomai slept through the alarm? His partner did sleep pretty deeply but he had implanted mental triggers so he'd respond promptly to the few emergency alarms the Varia had.

It was still quiet over there after Pýř had finished dressing and laced up his boots, so the Cloud pocketed his phone –which told him it was a quarter to five in the morning, not that it helped his mood any– and headed out into the corridor. Being a visibly dishevelled and irritated Cloud meant that the people running down the hall towards the stair avoided him rather than expecting him to dodge them, which was as it should be. Slipping into his partner's room, Pýř switched the light on just as his senses finally elaborated on the vague feeling of things not being quite right he'd been experiencing since waking up.

Maínomai was not in his room. His phone was lying on the floor and his boots were missing, but his uniform was still hung over the back of the chair on the other side of the unmade bed by the closed bathroom door. Pýř quickly glanced around the room and yes, his partner's mission coat was missing too. Checking the wardrobe did not reveal any clothes missing and all the Mist's knitting was still in its usual places… where the hell was Maínomai and where the hell did he go in just pyjamas, boots and coat?!

Pýř closed his eyes and carefully breathed through the burning fury of his Territory being interfered with. The only person he knew that could have done this was Wanhope, but the depressed Mist didn't actually care enough to pull this kind of thing. Yes, Wanhope did have an inexplicable attachment to Erica and had terrified the Vongola staff once or twice by showing up in the Vongola gardens while Amadeo and Serena were playing outside under his or Maínomai's watchful eye, but that was just more evidence that the stocky mute probably wasn't responsible for this. Striding closer to the bed, Pýř pressed a hand to the sheets.

Cold; his partner had been gone for a while. Definitely half an hour but probably longer. Pýř took in another slow breath through his nose and reminded himself that burning his partner's bed to ash wouldn't change anything and just make Maínomai cross with him when he got back; Pýř would get his partner back even if it meant burning half of Sicily to ash.

Calm. Maínomai would pout if he burned down half the island and it wouldn't make finding his partner any easier. The question was, where had his partner gone and why?

His partner's phone was on the floor, not the bedside table. Had somebody called him?

Pýř bent down to pick up the phone and in doing so noticed that his partner's go-bag was missing. Ah, so not just wearing pyjamas, boots and coat then. That was less alarming; Maínomai would have a burner phone with him, although it would be off and he would have to wait for his partner to turn it on and call him. Still, Maínomai had five uniform changes, ten days' worth of other clothing, toiletries, weapons, a burner phone, an extensive first-aid kit, three separate sets of identity papers and the equivalent to about twenty thousand Deutsche Marks in a variety of currencies. His partner was much better these days; he'd be fine for the time being. Pýř could go answer the muster and then try and hunt the idiot down later, to hit him over the head for leaving his phone behind.

Heading out and hurrying down the corridor, Pýř checked his partner's phone. There had been a call, marked as being from an unknown number and happening at five to four in the morning; an hour ago. Maínomai really should have at least texted him by now but hadn't; what the hell was going on?

And would Pýř be allowed to slaughter it?

Maínomai ran his fingers through his newly-dried hair and tied it back at the nape of his neck, out of the way of grasping toddler fingers. He'd managed to transfer the kids to beds at his house without waking them up –Serena in her cot and Amadeo in Erica's bed so both of them were on the same floor– and had then unpacked all their things, placing them around the rooms so as to make everything look and feel more familiar. He'd even slid Amadeo's holdout knife under the five-year-old's pillow, so he'd feel safer on waking up in a strange place.

Next he'd checked the kitchen, adjusted the heating timer so the house would be properly warm by the time the kids woke up, eaten breakfast, increased the security to the maximum possible and then gone and had a hot shower. Now he was dressed in a proper uniform and felt a bit more in control for the first time since getting woken up by his phone.

Speaking of, where was his phone? Pockets… no; Altered pyjama-uniform-pockets… no; coat pockets… no. Go-bag… burner phone but no Varia phone; duffel bag… nope, not there either.

When had be last had it? He'd answered Hamlet, she'd hung up on him, he'd put his phone down to lace up his boots… had he ever picked it up again?

No, no he hadn't. That was embarrassing; hopefully Pýř wouldn't find out about that. In the meantime he did have a burner phone though, so he could text his partner on that before trying to work out who else –other than Pýř of course– he was going to involve in protecting his kids. Ghul and Vahn would be safe as they already knew about both Amadeo and Serena, but the entire Squad being on the 'out' board without a mission would look a bit suspect unless Hamlet could forge some paperwork for him to that effect. Or Maínomai could forge the paperwork; it wouldn't actually be very hard and he knew how it was supposed to look, so one of his identities paying him for a long mission somewhere a long way away wouldn't get noticed until auditing came around and Mammon noticed he hadn't got his cut beforehand.

Audits didn't happen till Quiet Week and it was only February; if whatever had gone wrong wasn't fixed by then, Mammon would have more important things to worry about than one missing mission payment.

Collecting some printer paper and ink from his study-slash-library, Maínomai quickly Altered the raw materials into a properly worded briefing for a confidential surveillance mission requested by the Lanza Famiglia –he was a Lanza so he could request missions on the Family's behalf– all signed off by the Captain, Raas and Pýř as appropriate. Falsifying official documents was something the Varia weren't supposed to do, but there were layers of subtlety to be considered there and the document wasn't really false. Just the signatures and faint Flame-echoes of the people that had supposedly signed it were, along with the dates. He fully intended to pay the money after all, if only to ensure nobody got curious later.

Transporting the paperwork to join the stacks of other missions-in-progress in Raas's office was also pretty easy, because a GM's office had to be accessible and quite a few Mists delivered paperwork this way. The only difference was which pile Maínomai was adding his hastily-assembled file to.

There, make-shift paper-trail complete; now he really should switch his phone on and text his partner, so that when Pýř woke up the Cloud wouldn't go on a rampage looking for him.

Kuchisake wasn't a person that most people wanted to wake up, mostly because she had Cursed people for doing so when she hadn't been able to sleep long enough for one reason or another. No one wants to be woken up a few hours after the end of a long movie marathon. That said, she wasn't always feeling petty enough to make those around her suffer her ill mood. Not unless they deserved it.

Which meant that she just stood off to one side and watched in silence as various Squads scrambled to assemble amidst the mess of people streaming out of the building and into the courtyard rather than expressing her displeasure at the early hour. Emergency Muster meant the Division-specific Squads would form and the rest of the Squad Leaders would assemble their own respective Squads. As most Division Squads were made up of Squad Leaders, their personal Squad went to the designated second-in-command. The few Division Squad members who weren't Squad Leaders, well their Squad would have to make do without them, possibly by grabbing a mook and seeing how they fit with the depleted group as a temporary substitution of specialties.

As she watched, Redcap of Grimm Squad was directing that Squad to a promising mook. That was when she noticed the distinctive blue-hair of Pýř coming towards her with a lack of pretty kōhai.

"Pýř, where's your partner?" Kuchisake snapped demandingly; usually she'd purr the question, but an emergency like this when they barely knew what they were assembling for when the Captain was already gone ahead get the lay of the land? This wasn't the place for head-games, vanity or fun. It was why her hair was still in a loose braid for sleeping in and frizzy with bed head.

In lieu of a proper answer, the Cloud clicked at a phone for a second then tossed it at her. This was Maínomai's? Looking at the contact information pulled up for her, she noted the unknown number and the time of the call. Which explained why Maínomai was elsewhere if he had been called stupidly early in the morning, because a little before four counted as morning instead of late at night. That didn't answer the question of where though...

Pýř wisely brought up his own phone next and showed a text, completely avoiding the necessity of speaking with people. Oh, he was not a happy Cloud, not at all. She quickly deciphered the phrase; a simple bit of code, more references than anything else but it wasn't like Pýř was the nicest or most conversant of people when he first woke up. And it looked like he really did wake up on the wrong side of bed for a good mood to be in the cards this morning. According to Pýř's phone, Maínomai had been called to help with the evacuation of the Vongola Mansion, so he was on guard duty until relived. Of the little spears, so watching his daughter and her half-brother because that was the only reason 'little' would be specified.

"Location?" She asked softly.

"Tesla's hunting lodge." The Cloud growled. Interesting choice but Pýř was still being cagey so she'd get better information from him once out of the mass of bustling Varia. Fussy Cloud that he was, going along with his statement would just mean a delay of twenty seconds or so in getting the facts straight. Plus it was possible that Maínomai was there; unlikely though, because their home was already fortified... and oh. That was why.

"Raas, hold, give me five minutes." She told the GM, snagging him by his uniform as he hurried past. "Relay that to Mist Squad." Raas nodded and she let go.

Kuchisake didn't call Pýř out on his lie as it was a way to protect his privacy and Territory, but she did wrap herself around the Cloud's arm, up for a quick trip to Tesla's old place. Even if she did enjoy the shivers of the crawling sensation that her version of teleporting usually included, this time she kept the dramatics to a minimum since even then she could tell that it was not something she should indulge herself right now when she knew more than just that specific method of transportation. If Pýř wasn't willing to give details in front of the rest of the Varia it meant the issue was both personal and private, so she had curled around his arm and used her Flame to transport the both of them there more mundanely.

"So home for you two?" She asked, as confirmation. She did know the place but she also knew her kōhai's tendency for thorough overkill in the name of security and privacy and getting called out at four in the morning could only make that tendency worse.

"Avoid the roof and yard. Maínomai's working on an information blackout."

So the security would be as high and as tight as the Alteration specialist could make it, especially since he didn't have to worry about the Varia housekeeping regulations concerning modifications to rooms like Altering space or how to access said room. Except that the Alterations would be all over the entire building; joy.

"Drop you off on the road?" She asked. He nodded; she took them through the Mist this time and once on the road let him shiver and burn off of the clinging wisps of Mist as he sprinted up to the house. She didn't have to be nice and considerate after all.

As Kuchisake had a few minutes to kill before her subordinate arrived, she occupied herself by observing the Alterations that served as security. She didn't need to know much about computers or programming to realise that her cute kōhai had outdone himself. The security on Maínomai's room at the Varia Mansion was considered a little excessive even by Mist standards, the various bits of revenge he occasionally indulged in even more so because of how complicated the tangles they wound themselves into were but this... the most mild outer defence was one that erased the memory of the building's location and furthermore blocked people from even processing the sensory input to see the house. That defence would be repeated with variations every so often, because to Maínomai's mind just one 'shell' wasn't enough even if that 'shell' was less a 'shell' and more of an embroidered tapestry.

Maybe a quilt of tapestries was a better description, as who builds in an actual optical illusion –no Flame involved– into their defences like that? That was just nasty and unexpected, because it did initially look like an unintentional weak-spot in the defences based on the shimmer and patterns of the constructed defence. It was very impressive. The defences even covered underground, which told her that Maínomai considered any attempt to gain entrance that way should be rewarded with nothing less than a very nasty death. She counted thirteen little programs underground and since she knew that her kōhai could manage up to five hundred Alterations per program… that would be a very thorough death and the corpse probably wouldn't even be recognisably human anymore. There were likely more programs hidden within the structure of Mist defences above ground, but she wasn't keen on turning into a corpse herself so she didn't even touch them. They would likely not let her through and were probably all-but impenetrable.

Unless you were actually allowed in. Like Pýř was. Probably Erica was too. He'd probably set up the invitation protocols he insisted that Erica's suite have as well, so...

It had been about two minutes now since Pýř had gone in. Her kōhai was Pýř's Territory and had made the Cloud worry so she'd give them another minute before she called. The Emergency Muster going off was a rare event.

As Maínomai had helped with the evacuation of the Vongola Mansion and since been out of the loop, he was probably unaware of exactly who was dead. It was probably a Vongola; the last time this had happened was with Massimo's death. It was likely Federico though; an emergency call wouldn't have happened if Nono had passed on peacefully and it wasn't likely that anyone with sense would break through the security around the Don Vongola and then just kill him since he was clearly on the way to retirement, finally. It'd be something of a waste of money, time and effort for too little pay-off. Federico however was a known bad boy who sometimes snuck out all by his lonesome and that meant he'd be an easy target even if he wasn't easily found. In theory.

Still, evacuation the Vongola Mansion would be sensible in case Federico getting himself killed while going or returning from some love nest wasn't what had happened. Which only left the question of who had called Maínomai and how did they get his number if her kōhai didn't get theirs in return?

She brought up her watch to check the time and she had about a minute and a half left of those five minutes Raas was giving her, so she pulled her phone out of her uniform pocket and... that was when her kōhai ran up.

"Sorry Kuchisake. Hamlet called me to evacuate the kids and well, safest place I could think of on short notice. Nobody outside of those we trust has been here and I had to amend for the Squad to be allowed in at this level of security." He explained. So that axed the notion that the building had invitation based security. At least somewhat. Very paranoid, but it was his daughter being threatened and she did have Vongola blood.

"It wasn't a very long conversation, I assume?"

"I said 'hello' and then she said a few phrases, which amounted to 'someone's dead, go here, pick up the kids from this guy' and then she hung up." He smiled then, sheepish.

"How'd she get your number?"

"I hacked her phone with Flames, put myself in as an emergency contact. Took less than a second and she didn't even notice until later. Might have been too busy blushing at the time," he admitted, showing exactly why Hamlet might have been blushing. Her kōhai had a dangerous smile, even before it became sharp. "Emergency Muster... was it, no it is probably Federico."

"There's no official confirmation yet, but it's been less than ten minutes since the emergency rang. Raas has stalled Mist Squad for five, but we're cutting close–" Kuchisake did not squeak when her kōhai hugged her and transported both of them to her office, as even though Maínomai's method was fast she did feel a bit of a squeeze. A squeak was not what she wanted to show to the pair of eyes floating in that jar. "Ah, this is going to reignite all those rumours."

"Hamlet sounded strained." Her pretty kōhai admitted, practically confirming that it was Federico. "As for the rumours," he merely shrugged, seemingly uncaring despite the fact he had essentially hidden away in the aftermath of Mantis' death and had since then managed not to notice the flirting or attention grabbing antics of a few women who had wanted to take advantage of the pretty Mist being a 'romantic'. It was only a little hilarious to see, both the failures and the obliviousness.

"I'm more annoyed that if it was Federico, then the CEDEF is doomed to have Iemitsu for at least three more years unless some hitman gets lucky, assuming there is a prospective Decimo left." Maínomai complained as they left her office, holding the door open for her and everything. It really was a shame that there was absolutely no chemistry between them.

"Ha! Five years is more likely, as it would require the support of the Famiglia to effect a change, but again that's assuming a suitable heir even exists and has a good base to start from. Could be as many as seven or ten and Don Vongola could die of old age before then," Kuchisake countered, as Information had all sorts of data on the CEDEF. It was her personal squad who had suffered Iemitsu for over a year, so she did keep up to date easily by visiting them when not researching or meddling; they felt invested in the CEDEF now and liked to keep themselves informed. The numbers of years she'd just mentioned hadn't been analyzed, but they were a good estimate. It had taken Federico about that long to earn most of the Famiglia's support after it was clear that Enrico was incapable due to coming down with an incurable case of death. The Vongola at least knew Federico as he and his brothers had been raised within the Vongola, but any new heir would likely be an outsider, so longer would be required before trust happened.

"Are Vahn and Ghul needed for anything?" Maínomai asked, which was a clear change of subject and probably proof that the kleptomaniac was planning something to keep the little Lanzas protected while he was out and about with Mist Squad; as if all the defence and his partner weren't enough. Still it wouldn't hurt to throw him a bone and small children did require supervision.

"Vahn's proficiency may be required later, but only once we have a lead." He nodded and moved to join the assembled Mist Squad, pulling out his phone as he did so. He was one of the last to arrive, but the information would get out that he'd helped with the evacuation earlier and been stuck until relieved even if she had to share it herself. It wasn't like Pýř's terrible mood on being woken up was any great secret and her kōhai losing an additional hour of sleep because of the evac... he might have to explain forgetting his phone but it wasn't like her pretty kōhai was an idiot. He'd come up with something, possibly security related.

Maínomai was not enjoying his morning. First there was the wake-up call, some brief panic and trying to stay awake while keeping the kids safe from any potential harm while not knowing what kind of harm was most likely to come calling, as he had no information to work on other than there was an evacuation ordered and the sound of Hamlet's voice. Which had said bad things about whatever had happened.

He had had time to think about what was possible while taking a shower to wake himself up properly. Any of the nightmare scenarios with Iemitsu, an assassin getting Nono Vongola... which was why after a short shower he had looked for his phone and eventually turned on his burner phone and realised that he had taken longer somewhere than he thought he had; that wasn't uncommon when he was by himself. The first thing he had done was text Pýř about where he was at and why.

He had gotten a response seconds later which said serious things had happened because Pýř was something of an early riser by necessity as he needed time to get fit for civilised company… but not this early.

'Varia moving. Don't know why.'

Less than two minutes later Pýř was inside which was impossible unless a Mist gave him a lift –Mab was immediately crossed off the list, as were Wanhope and Fuseau so that left–

"Ow." Maínomai complained as his friend smacked his forgotten phone against his head. Maínomai quickly grabbed it.

"Don't forget it again." Pýř told him, clearly worried behind all that Cloudy irritation. "Kuchisake's waiting outside. You've got a few minutes."

"I'll adjust the security to let Vahn and Ghul through. I've forged a mission in case we have to keep the kids safe for any significant length of time as a confidential surveillance mission. Remind me to pay it later."

That said, adjusting the admission protocols was an easy enough matter if a person knew how, so it took only the amount of time necessary to weave the change into his security. He wasn't going to lower it after all. Not until he had confirmation of exactly what happened and a reason to believe they would be safe back inside the Vongola Mansion.

He had then chatted with Kuchisake for all of a minute, mostly to see if she had any news, and then texted Vahn and Ghul to tell them where Pýř was. He then texted them again so they knew to call the Cloud later for directions as he and Mist Squad teleported over to the Vongola Mansion, carrying a few other people each to provide a proper strike force. He didn't complain about having to transport five other people with him, although it seemed he had made someone else squeak because of the squeeze that happened when he wasn't taking extra care to prevent that feeling. It wasn't like teleportation was easy for him.

Confirmation had arrived soon after they reached the Vongola Mansion and he'd seen Hamlet speaking with Squalo and Mammon, who had left the Varia earlier so that there'd be orders ready for the rest of them when they showed up. Hamlet looked devastated and furious at the world and herself. The only question was where was Federico?

Less than two hours later they had the answer of where Federico was; the hour or so before the Varia had been called had been spent searching the Vongola Mansion for him. It took a bit longer after that to find a lead but someone somewhere figured out that Federico was actually outside the Vongola Mansion when he was killed; there was an immediate mood-shift within the Varia then, as there was only one reason the Varia could think of for Federico to be out by himself at night. Infuriatingly no normal tracking methods had worked; it was like Federico's body had evaporated or been so profoundly changed he didn't register as 'Federico Vongola' anymore. Then a car was turned up missing and that was a solid lead. Finding the car took a little more time, and that was where they found the bones.

Federico was a steaming pile of bones, a few feet away from the car he had borrowed. And no, that wasn't an exaggeration. At least, that it was Federico was the assumption they were working on, as they couldn't tell with any degree of certainty at the moment who the bones had belonged to. There was no sign of whatever clothing the pile of bones had been wearing, no identification records or even a trace Flame residue, so it'd take time to do an exact match the hard way using health records. It'd take time to acquire the exact health records from wherever they were stashed too; a mere overview would say something like 'broken arm at age' whatever, which wouldn't have the x-ray picture. It might go faster to use dental because it wasn't like there was fingerprints left to go on. Not that the body being bones meant they wouldn't try to use DNA to prove its identity, but it might be impossible.

The steaming effect didn't bode well if someone was going to attempt to use DNA as an identifier. DNA in the bone marrow could last for a long time, but DNA was easy to denature. He knew the oils on human skin could ruin it once extracted because it was really fragile. DNA was all chemical bonding so it could be damaged with a change of pH or even a slight change in temperature. DNA in the bone marrow would have some protection due to the properties of bone but... if this was done by Flame then there was the chance that the Flame would target the DNA in cells intentionally. That would be a very neat trick, if that was what had happened. One that would take extreme levels of control and no small amount of power; it was probably still going at it, even after all the time that had passed between the phone call from Hamlet and now, or else the steaming would probably have stopped.

Bulldog and his assistants had been summoned and a few Mists ferried them over after some photographs were taken. It was protocol not to investigate further than what could be done with mere sensory observation, because there could be something that could be disturbed or contaminated, but no one really wanted to get that close to the freaky bones that were steaming anyway; bones were porous right? Otherwise the steam would have cracked them already. That said practice. Lots of it. Who had Federico been seeing –if he'd seen anyone at all– to fall foul somebody with this kind of skill? Or was this a lucky assassin? Because steaming bones were something that would be a signature style of kill, involving lots of practice to develop such a technique.

The DNA, various trash, Flame residue and more on the scene was left completely undisturbed because of how freaky the bones looked all piled up like that... and it was best to leave this kind of investigation to professionals. However Mist Squad wasn't made up of incompetents and the entire scene looked unnaturally clean of Flame residue to their various eye-based Enchantments. A Storm might manage that but Maínomai wasn't aware of anyone that could do it quite this perfectly. Pýř had excellent control of his Storm Flames, especially for someone who was a Cloud-primary, and there were only a double handful of people in the Storm Division that were better than his friend. Pýř couldn't have done something like what they were looking at. He wasn't sure if there was anybody in Storm Division that could.

Maínomai just felt tired a few minutes after Bulldog arrived and started ordering his assistants to collect everything, yelling at them to take utmost care. He didn't like this and didn't like the fact that without Federico, Iemitsu would remain in the CEDEF as a danger to everyone associated with the Vongola; without Federico, Boss would remain on ice so Ottabio would remain a problem for at least several more years. The Cloud Officer would have to retire eventually but it really did not look like he was going to do so gracefully, considering he was already thirty-one and the oldest active assassin in the Varia. He didn't like that without Federico the Vongola wouldn't advance, that the Varia wouldn't be trusted to stand by the Vongola. He didn't like that Federico seemed to have forgotten all of his responsibilities and the people that depended on him in favour of probably meaningless sex.

Now Erica had lost all of her uncles, bar the one that was frozen in the basement. Xanxus being frozen might be alive within the ice, but he certainly wasn't capable of offering comfort to Erica or the rest of his family, much less the Family. The same went for Maria-Chiara, as all her brothers were dead or might as well be.

Federico's death was terribly disappointing for everyone considering how pointless and thoughtless his actions had been. It was a very Stupid death.

It was a wonderful thing not belonging to a field team, Erica felt, because field teams got called out in the middle of the night in emergencies. Secretaries did not; however secretaries did have to deal with all the paperwork that emergencies generated, especially emergencies that dragged on for days at a time.

Her uncle Federico was dead; the uncle who'd always bailed her out when she got in over her head and been one of her two favourite uncles. Xanxus was the other favourite, because while he had never bailed her out of a bad situation he had always been fully willing to provide her with the tools she needed to bail herself out, up to and including things her other uncles, mother and grandfather would never have allowed, like plastic explosives.

That had been an odd week; it had been fun though, the most fun she'd ever had at thirteen, although how her also-thirteen-years-old uncle had got his hands on plastic explosives and the knowledge of how you were supposed to shape the charges would forever remain a mystery.

Those drug dealers had never known what hit them. The warehouse exploding all around them had ended their plans of production and distribution in a timely and permanent manner.

Letting that fond memory slip away, Erica turned her attention back to the paperwork. If she'd ever wanted proof that Iemitsu really, seriously didn't have a clue who she was, well now she had it. She hadn't been offered compassionate leave upon arriving at work on the morning of the twenty-first of February; her oblivious boss had simply told her that Federico Vongola was dead and she would be managing things for him, since he would be in the field for the foreseeable future.

Had Erica not been a Rain, she would have had an emotional breakdown; but she was a Rain and any Rain worth their pay could manage their own emotions, whether they were Active or not. Instead she'd gently compartmentalised the distraught niece and spent the day being the efficient and effective secretary the CEDEF needed in a time of crisis. She had spent the entire day in the office, sending one of the junior secretaries out to fetch a hot lunch shortly after one, finally heading home at eight o'clock at night.

Only once she was back at her apartment had she given in to the urge to cry, her misery and grief following her into sleep.

The rest of the week had been more of the same, punctuated only by a short text message from Antony to tell her that both her children would be remaining in Maínomai's care until the current state of emergency was brought to an end. Erica had a good idea of where her children were –there was only one place that was isolated yet accessible enough for hosting small children that Maínomai had exclusive access to and it was her friends' house across the valley– so she did not let herself worry about them. She would see them on Sunday, as usual.

It was actually Saturday evening when Erica next saw her children, but that was nothing to do with her changing her schedule and everything to do with Squalo Superbi being in her apartment when she got back from work at nine o'clock at night. He had at least cooked something hot while he was waiting, which he served her a plate of before joining her at the table with a mug of hot chocolate. He wasn't wearing his Varia uniform but a set of nondescript and fairly generic motorcycle leathers, indicating that this was an unofficial check-up into her wellbeing as his undercover subordinate Changeling. It was the little details that really mattered in the Varia and that Squalo cared enough to visit her at home gave Erica a warm feeling.

"Well?" He asked as she finished scraping her plate.

Erica sighed. "I do not believe that Sawada has deliberately engineered Federico's untimely demise; he is not nearly smug enough about it. Instead he is acting as though everybody around him has failed him again and therefore he must do everything himself if he is to achieve worthwhile results. He's been in the office maybe twice since Wednesday, but calls me on the phone every hour on the hour to demand information updates. We haven't ruled out the possibility that this is the same person who has been massacring the Northern Famiglia, but the destruction of the Cassoni the week before last makes it unlikely, considering the reasonably regular time intervals between those massacres so far."

Squalo grunted and poured her a glass of wine; Erica knew that he hadn't really believed Iemitsu had a hand in Federico's murder, but considering her uncle had been trying very hard to get Iemitsu removed from the CEDEF the External Advisor did have a plausible motive.

"Elsewhere, we've ruled out over one hundred suspects connected to people Federico seduced the past, including most of the allied Dons," Erica went on, sipping her wine. "We haven't managed to rule out it being a hit by Don Vongola yet, but we should have the necessary evidence within the month, one way or another. The Varia have also been cleared, since the Mist Officer allowed us access to the payment records and mission outlines for the past year. Individual Varia members may yet be implicated, but no matter how keen Iemitsu is on that possibility he can't dig up evidence that doesn't exist."

"Fucker," Squalo growled, glaring at his drink; "like any of us would do anything that Stupid."

"I know," Erica agreed, "but I can't tell him that so he gets to waste time chasing red herrings. On a brighter note, Mafia Land have agreed to check their books and let us know if they come across any suspicious transactions so we'll know if it was foreign interference by the end of the month."

"Well that's something," the nineteen-year-old grumbled, rubbing his head with the back of his prosthetic hand. "Don't think they'll turn up anything though."

"No, it's a bit of a long shot," Erica admitted tiredly, "and an unlikely one at that. Most of the Underworld was waiting for Federico to take over the Family before they started causing trouble, to get a feel for his methods and politics. Now though… without any clear heirs Nono's going to have a hell of a time keeping things going: all the ambitious syndicates will be circling, probing for weaknesses and pushing power plays in the hope that there won't be a Tenth and the Vongola will collapse. In fact reports suggest that there's going to be a spate of assassination attempts on Don Nono in the coming months, just to see if they can get the family to fall apart faster." She paused, twirling her empty wineglass between her fingers. "If I give you the raw data there and notify Visconti, he'll set up a bounty system so that any interested Varia can take advantage. The Underworld will need to be terrorised into submission if Grandfather is going to get the time he needs to prepare a new heir."

Squalo nodded. "Sounds good," he admitted gruffly. "I'll have the details put on the notice boards so that people can fit them around regular missions in the right areas." He paused. "Seen your kids yet?"

"No," Erica admitted. "Too busy."

"I'll take you to the Vongola Mansion so you can have somebody fetch you," Squalo said. "Ridden a motorbike before?"

"Yes." Xanxus had made a habit of 'borrowing' one or other of the racing bikes that belonged to the security team and joyriding on it when he was in a mood; he'd taken her along a few times, much to Coyote's disapproval. Her mother had just sighed and given her extra Flame training in how to protect herself from whiplash injuries and high speed collisions.

Squalo grabbed her plate and glass and dumped them in the sink, pouring hot water over them and quickly washing them. Erica got to her feet, stretched and went to grab a few changes of clothing and a clean uniform so she wouldn't have to come back to her apartment before work on Monday. Pýř had broken in at some point around her birthday and replaced all her uniforms with better-tailored ones in expensive, comfortable and Flame-proofed fabrics; well she only knew it was Pýř because he'd left her a note telling her what he'd done and that it was for his and Maínomai's peace of mind, since his partner was definitely not ready to become a single parent should she come to harm.

Erica suspected she was being played somehow, but she did know that Maínomai was a chronic worrier and it would make him feel better to know she was protected from casual harm so she hadn't protested. The shoes Pýř had bought her around the end of her maternity leave were the most comfortable ones she'd ever owned and never made her feet ache, not even after a day spent rushing around the CEDEF building, so she was probably going to wear them out within the year. Maybe he'd get her a new pair for her birthday this year?

A bag packed, Erica switched off her CEDEF phone and let Squalo drag her down to the garage under her apartment building and climbed onto the back of his motorbike, unpinning her hair so she could get the helmet on. The pins went in her bag, which she then made sure was fitted close to her body before the Rain Officer kicked the engine into life and drove off, headed for the Iron Fort.

Having been dropped off in front of the garages behind the Vongola Mansion, Erica stopped outside the door to the service wing while the security team verified her identity, then accepted a cup of hot milk from the kitchen staff to warm her up after her late night ride and five minute wait in the cold. Once she was feeling warmer and slightly more human Erica texted Pýř to let him know where she was and that she wanted a lift to wherever her children were. Hamlet had notified her back on the day of her uncle's murder that her son and daughter had been evacuated from the mansion by her friend, and since anything Maínomai did would inevitably involve his partner and Squad Leader it was more efficient to communicate with the Cloud if she wanted something done quickly. Maínomai might be a whole lot better than he used to be but he still had his moments, like when he forgot to charge his phone or failed to turn it on while it was charging after letting the battery run all the way down.

"Erica?" The Rain glanced up through her messy fall of hair at Antony, her recently-late uncle's Rain Guardian. She wasn't sure what his real name was, but she'd probably be finding out soon since with her uncle dead, his Guardians would be disbanding as soon as the state of emergency was over.

"Hi Antony," she said, pushing her hair out of her face and idly wishing that motorcycle helmets were not so destructive to one's coiffure. "I'm arranging a visit to the children for tomorrow." Since the state of emergency was still ongoing, everybody who had been removed to safe-houses would be staying there until it was over. The Mafia Academies had also been closed so that parents could keep their children at home and all Vongola-affiliated clubs and social events were also suspended.

Antony nodded, not meeting her eyes. Erica wondered why exactly he was looking so guilty. He had looked at her –no he had looked at her eyes peering through her hair– and flinched before trying to get himself together. He was definitely feeling very guilty though and his grief at her uncle's death was making it harder for him to hide it.

There were very few reasons why seeing her –messy hair or otherwise– would make Antony look so very guilty. All of them pertained to her and her immediate family, so were by definition her business. Antony definitely knew that, yet wasn't telling her what the problem was; he wasn't even letting her know that there was a problem. He was just standing there looking flustered and guilty and non-verbal.

Erica had been doing fourteen-hour days since her uncle's death and would be continuing to do so for the foreseeable future; she was all out of tact for personal things.

Her phone peeped; she looked down to see Pýř's answer to her text. He'd be sending a Mist to collect her from the end of the road outside the Vongola's security line in ten minutes' time. Coming to a decision, Erica texted back to ask if the Mist would be okay transporting Antony as well; she wanted answers and if it turned out to be innocuous, seeing Amadeo would help Antony get his head on straight for the coming week. Her uncle had after all selected Antony as her son's godfather so taking care of her little boy was technically one of the Rain's Sky-appointed duties.

"You should come with me," Erica said firmly, looking up to meet the older Rain's eyes; "Amadeo would love to see you and he's bound to be bored after spending half a week indoors."

"Er, I, ah, won't anybody mind?" Antony mumbled, a pang of wistfulness crossing his face. He really was very distraught to be this transparent.

"You've got your phone if Hamlet or any of the others want to get in touch and tomorrow's a Sunday, so only the covert things will be continuing as normal," Erica pointed out. What she was doing wasn't very nice, but she had a bad feeling about that look on his face and she wanted answers.

Her phone peeped again, revealing an agreement. "Come on, get your coat," Erica said firmly, grabbing the older man's sleeve and dragging him down the hall. "You look exhausted and you'll be no good to anybody if you don't rest a bit."

Antony allowed her to drag him into the cloakroom, pulled on his coat and offered her an arm before opening the door and letting her lead him down the path towards the road; he was very definitely operating on autopilot and Erica intended to take full advantage. Getting him into an unfamiliar setting and surrounded by Varia would put him further off-balance and make it harder for him to hide things and having Amadeo present would make him reluctant to lie or seriously deflect because lying to children in your care was wrong. That persistent moral standard was one Erica agreed with and approved of, even when it wasn't making her life easier like it was now. The whole mess with Xanxus would never have happened if her grandfather had told the truth rather than obfuscating.

Erica wasn't entirely sure which Mist would be collecting them –her friends' Squad included three of them after all– but whichever one it was, they were probably going to transport her and Antony directly to the house rather than bother with a vehicle.

Maínomai was the one that picked Erica and Antony up. His squad had made good arguments for him doing so personally beyond the obvious point that Maínomai would have to adjust security anyway; he was already known to Antony and therefore less likely to upset the grieving Rain Guardian for however much longer Antony had the ring and a few other reasons. Pýř wasn't enthused with that idea either but he wasn't going to deny Antony the chance to see his godson, even if his godson was currently asleep upstairs; the bunk room downstairs was hosting Ghul and Vahn so that it looked like they were out doing recon for the Lanzas instead of watching the children they had been bodyguards to several months ago. There really was no such thing as an excess of caution, especially in the face of curious Varia co-workers. So the ruse had to continue.

Maínomai wasn't happy about having to host Antony either, but that was more because he didn't want to bring Antony to the home he had; yes, he'd bring Antony over but that didn't mean he'd let Federico's Rain Guardian remember where it was, even if he wasn't bringing the man in by conventional means. It was petty but the fact he would be doing it anyway diffused some of his frustrations about the entire situation: if Federico hadn't given his Guardians the slip, a lot of the Vongola's problems would either be fixed because they wouldn't have happened or would be in the process of being fixed once the messy change-over was through. Instead, Federico had out-smarted his Guardians for the last and final time instead of being corralled, despite the Guardians knowing Federico had a problematic habit, and it had cost them all. It was a complete and utter failure on the part of Federico's Guardians and Maínomai wasn't inclined to trust them with any kind of security after that. Not for an adult who in theory could take care of himself and especially not for a young child who certainly couldn't. So Antony wouldn't have that option at all. Not even for future brief outings if Maínomai could manage it, but that would be something to deal with later when the children were back in the Vongola Mansion and under their grandmother's care.

If Maínomai wasn't happy about it then his friend was even worse off and for more reasons; Pýř's sensory abilities were sharp enough that he could pick up on Bonds! The type and even why they happened! He normally kept his Flame-senses at a mild level, because Flames sprung from the Soul and so Pýř could find out a lot about a person just from their Flame traces if he bothered to investigate deeply. He thankfully viewed it as a breach of privacy to read so deeply, a lot like how Mammon viewed his Esper abilities. It still didn't stop them from knowing some things but they at least had the decency to not share what they knew and knew how to deal with what they knew. It didn't make knowing any more pleasant for them, even if they knew why it was so unpleasant. It sometimes made things worse.

The problem was that with a Guardian Bond was a solid bond between souls and the people in it had a habit of reaching out and reinforcing each-other every time they were in proximity; this happened whether those bonded were Flame-active or not, but with both people being able to use Flames made it more obvious to people who were able to see or sense Flames. Those bonded with a Sky got used to having that Sky around and add in how long Antony and Federico had been together, they'd only grown tighter and closer, so having it all ripped away with Federico's death was very traumatic to the souls he had been bonded to and they would reach out in lingering Flame-traces, looking for their Sky. Some Flame-traces lingered more than others, but while Rain Flames weren't as bad as say Sky –and there were a few spots in the Varia Mansion that still felt as if Boss had been there recently– they were something like an oil-slick and not easy to remove with anything short of a full-Cleanse.

Neither he nor Pýř minded the regular Cleansing at the Varia, but a full-Cleanse made a place feel very empty and lacking in life; like a newly built house that was unlived in and lacking in warmth, which made it creepy-feeling since abandoned places tended to just feel sad. Pýř letting Antony visit was more politically-minded than what his partner would have preferred because to Pýř, having Antony there was like being in close quarters with a heavy smoker; one that smoked a potent cocktail of grief, regret, sorrow and loss.

He couldn't do anything about that but maybe he could prevent having to Cleanse their home by not letting Antony leave Flame-traces? It would only take a small Alteration and he could set it up to be temporary, so it'd only last a day. It'd prevent lingering issues, even if it did nothing to prevent Pýř being able to sense him anyway.

So Maínomai waited for Erica and Antony, thinking about how best to manipulate things in his favour; not something he normally bothered with since he hadn't needed to for several years outside of getting information or on missions for the Varia. It really was as easy and as distasteful as he remembered and Antony had no idea how Maínomai teleported, so he could do the Alteration at the same time as that. A moment of thought and will later, he checked the framework of the proposed Alteration and decided that it'd work. How well it'd work to shield Pýř's senses was less clear but it should make it a little better at least.

He didn't have Pýř's highly developed Flame-sense since Maínomai's ran about average for the Varia so he was nowhere near his friend's league; but neither were Erica or Antony or indeed the majority of the Varia. Most people that did learn to sense Flames could best do so while they were being actively used and it was something most of the mafia capable of using Flames learned within a few years of learning to use them. Sensing someone who was Flame-active but wasn't using them was a magnitude harder but most of the Varia could, even if they'd only bothered to learn how to avoid the more passive Flame-traps. Sensing the Flames of Latents was yet another magnitude of difficulty which was beyond what most of the Varia could do. Maínomai and a number of Mists could cheat with Enchantments that let them see Flame-residue or the potential in Latents, but that didn't make their Flame-sense sharp. It just made them better at cheating.

Maínomai noticed Antony first. For a Rain, he really had to be rattled. He hadn't had much interaction with Federico's Rain, but he had received the impression that Antony usually kept a cool head. Something else was compounding the issue, but it wasn't up to Maínomai to do anything about it. Not unless someone wanted him to meddle. Maybe that's what Erica was doing? Her hair was messy in a way that wasn't purposeful, she was clearly tired and frustrated but there was something about her that said not 'Rain on the hunt' but 'Rain waiting to strike'. That was something to think about. Work-related maybe?

"Hello, Maínomai." She said. "I was wondering who Pýř would send to pick us up."

"Yeah, there were a few reasons for that, but it boils down to me being most familiar to Antony and them being mean." And himself being a bit paranoid, admittedly. His eye-based Enchantment couldn't pick up anything different about them or in the area. Ghul could have done the pick-up but he wouldn't be sure that who he had picked up was who he thought it was, as Ghul hadn't really interacted with Antony; the sum-total of time they had spent within sight of each-other was less than an hour, which had been when Antony had seen Erica off on her vacation and picked her back up after it, which was back in last summer! Vahn could have seen the differences but his skills at transportation were... the nicest thing Maínomai could say about them was that Vahn hadn't found the method that worked best for him and was badly out of practice. Pýř upon learning that had promptly assigned Vahn training for tomorrow.

And that reminded him, "You've mainly had Hamlet transport you before haven't you Antony? Just a warning since it'll probably feel different." Antony nodded, still feeling unsettled. So Maínomai just grabbed both of their hands and brought all three of them to his roof.

He probably shouldn't have been so amused at Antony's squeak, but he cared more about Erica so he had only made sure she was steady.

"That was different." Antony remarked as he took in the rooftop garden; that was more of Pýř's project and since it was winter it didn't look like much right now.

"Different specialties, different schools of thought, which results in different methods," Maínomai explained. Hamlet being trained as a Vongola Guardian was thus proficient in Curses, Conjuration and Illusion, although he didn't know which her specialty actually was. "I just Altered our location. It's fastest and nearly untraceable unless someone's good enough to unravel the surprises I left behind, which will dissipate in about ten minutes and the traces that indicate out-going location will have been dissolved already by said surprises then."

"And my kids?" Erica asked.

"We've put them to bed on the first floor. Amadeo was a bit annoyed that he couldn't have the bunk bed in the guest room on the ground floor but that doesn't mean he hasn't taken naps there or turned the bottom bunk into a canopy bed with spare sheets and so on. If Erica stays with Amadeo, you can have the couch on the ground floor, Antony. Erica, I'll give Antony the tour while you check on the kids, but hurry down because Ghul made cake, so we're sharing stories if you wanna join in before bed."

Pýř took another bite of cake as his partner brought Amadeo's godfather down the stairs from the roof. Pýř had pointedly muted his Flame-sense as much as he could, but that didn't mean he was blind to what he could sense. There was grief and guilt and more; as there should be, since they'd failed at keeping their Dumb Sky alive from a known issue, thus allowing Federico to be without them and be Stupid enough to get ambushed by the Storm that had turned him into steaming bones. Antony felt more off balance than Pýř expected, but it wasn't like he was an expert in grieving Guardians.

Of the Guardians for dead Skies that Pýř knew about first-hand... Ottava's Mist had pulled a masterful disappearing act while her Cloud had shifted focus to her apprentice who looked far too much like Squalo and felt like a Superbi. Enrico's Guardians had long since scattered after Enrico's death years ago, Massimo's Cloud existed for some months without Massimo but the loss of her Territory eventually got to her and resulted in her death. He couldn't even compare Federico's Guardians to those of any living Sky either; those with a living Sky didn't grieve.

Of the living Skies Pýř knew of, there were only three he'd met. Vongola Nono still had all his current Guardians, even if the bond between Nono and his Sun was probably still weaker than those binding the rest. Tyrant at one point had been bonded to Guardians. They were all long dead and Tyrant, though fonder of some people than others, was no longer interested in Guardians on a soul-deep level. Too much loss and so on; Tyrant at least didn't turn out as eccentric as Vongola Quarto supposedly had, he just became very scary, very focused and very lethal. Then there was Xanxus, who had secured Levi and Lussuria's loyalty even if he hadn't actually managed to form a Guardian Bond with them; maybe if he had succeeded Pýř wouldn't find Levi's presence so irritating, but that was how he felt about most Lightnings anyway. Tesla, the previous Lightning Officer, had been a civilian before he was Varia and Pýř was well aware of the differences between an actually competent Lightning and a Lightning the mafia considered competent; they were vast and included personhood.

Annoying as it was to contemplate, you'd think that a highly capable Flame-active Sky around a bunch of other Flame-actives would form a lot of bonds. That was true, but that didn't mean the bonds formed were Guardian Bonds. That was different and only between a Sky and their Guardian of whichever Flame attribute. Flame-bonds could form between various Flame-types from proximity over time, respect that went both ways and sheer compatibility between the two people, but Guardian Bonds required a Sky. Xanxus hadn't been part of the Varia long, but Varia-years were like dog years so that hadn't been much of a factor. A lot of them in the 'old guard' of the active Varia were based on respect and that hadn't faded; those were only 'brittle' if the person respected turned out to be a disappointment. The main reason that Xanxus hadn't managed to snag a full assortment of Guardians was the nature of the Varia itself; much of the Varia was filled with people who had at one point broken or come close to the edge of it.

Pýř himself had hit that point when he committed matricide as a teenager and such experiences left marks on the soul. Guardian Bonds required all three kinds of bonds with reciprocation from both sides, so tossing a Sky and another Flame together for a year wouldn't always result in a Guardian Bond. The marks left by a person's breaking could be read, but Pýř considered that a breach of privacy so he frequently didn't bother 'looking' that deep. Such marks meant there were strict 'requirements' that had to be met for a Guardian bond to form, and those varied wildly and were occasionally impossible to meet.

They also often weren't conscious decisions either, hence why Pýř knew a lot more about his co-workers than they'd be comfortable with. Ghul required a love of theatre and pop-culture or at least the willingness to learn. That was the easy one. He still had no clue how to articulate the bond that connected Ghul and Raas as fast-friends. Vahn's requirements were murkier, but involved a certain level of perception. His partner required steady support and an understanding of sacrifice and selflessness, in that Maínomai worked to benefit the 'whole' even if it cost him, rather than being a martyr; it was far more selfish than that. It made sense that he and his partner had drifted and then stuck together since Pýř's knew his 'easy' requirements included disdain towards a particular parent and careful consideration of resources including his Territory, in order to provide an optimal result even without his input. His 'hard' requirement was actually killing the hated parent and getting away with it.

Which was the area, if Pýř wanted to be honest, that Xanxus had failed the Vongola the most. Killing Nono would have caused a number of immediate issues, and there was no doubt that Xanxus would have suffered some form of punishment for it, but at least he wouldn't be in a block of ice. Maybe a year in Vendicare before being allowed to return to the Varia, since most of the mafia would have no clue he'd even been there; it wasn't like the Varia socialized much and a lot was covered by contract. Considering that Nono had named no heir at that time, it wasn't like Ottava couldn't have sorted things out: in the absence of declared heirs authority fell to retired Bosses. It was possible that Enrico still would have been shot up, but Ottava would have had her grandsons actually working hard for the Vongola instead of doing petty errands and living off the family money like it appeared Nono had allowed his sons to do, since until recently Pýř hadn't known of any actual accomplishments to be proud of achieved by any of them; Federico's womanizing was not something to be proud of.

Federico's Guardian didn't cut that impressive of a figure either, compared to Squalo or any number of other Rains that he knew. However Antony was still Amadeo's godfather, so Pýř would host the Rain Guardian. He'd be polite but he wouldn't offer any sympathies for his loss because Pýř had none. Federico had been Stupid and his Guardians even more so.

"Is our friend detained?" Ghul asked, wearing nothing but an old dark t-shirt and boxers. Despite Ghul turning out to have the most clothing out of all of them on Chaos Squad, he really only splurged on nightwear for his feminine identities.

"She's checking on her children." Vahn answered, being the only Mist in everyday dress. Vahn actually preferred to sleep in his clothes unless it was cold enough to warrant thick pyjamas. It was something most of the Varia who had done a stint in Medical did.

"We'll wait until she gets down before starting the next round. There's cake. Ghul's surprisingly talented with baking." Pýř ignored Ghul's comments about 'the witch's lessons in horror being memorable'. His partner had pretty much pushed the Rain towards them then run off to check on Erica or to convince her to come down and enjoy herself a bit before going to bed; she probably needed the sleep.

"Ah, thank you?" Antony replied, uncomfortable.

Ghul served him a slice, with a theatrical flair that proved Ghul had probably once been a waiter somewhere. That Ghul went on to describe the cake in the most ridiculous and flowery language possible at least earned a smile after that initial blank look of confusion had passed. Antony seemed to have understood about half of the metaphors, which suggested he was well-read at least.

"We're back!" Maínomai cheered as he and Erica entered the kitchen. "Anyway, Erica's agreed to a round of stories, although contract conditions apply so we can't name Names unless it pertains to Vongola or Lanza interests, with the Lanza having right to share as we're contracted on a mission for the Lanza. Exceptions being made for public identities or those known to all those present, of course."

"Stories?" Antony repeated.

"The Varia has a rich tradition of telling and passing them down." Pýř explained. "It's a way to hand on a lot of information in a way that's entertaining. That they're truthful, or mostly so that means it counts as history too." Also a way to build unity and a sense of connection between all the 'generations' of Varia, in a way that crossed Divisions and Squad boundaries, but Pýř didn't mention that part.

"Our theme is 'poison' but that's because a newbie said something thoughtless and if it wasn't for the state of emergency, there'd be a lot more playful poisoning going on within the ranks right now. However this is not the time for it, so many are just swapping stories and planning for later instead." Vahn added, watching Antony carefully.

"I'll start this round." Pýř volunteered. "A few months after Maínomai and I had first taken a mission together, we were assigned to a campaigner for our Squad Leader. We had just finished a series of missions, so we took a little time to celebrate and go sight-seeing. The Squad Leader with us decided to just sleep in, as he'd be driving later. The Lightning assigned with us however had developed a fondness for spicy food and was capable enough to be left without oversight for some time, so went off by himself and returned to the hotel room an hour or so later as the spicy food he tried didn't agree with him. About an hour after that, Maínomai and I returned to find said Lightning still hogging the bathroom and the Squad Leader sleeping with a gas mask on. I still have no idea where the gas mask came from or why he didn't open the windows, but the air quality in the room certainly merited it..."

Maínomai made a face at the memory of that particular incident. Vahn looked amused while trying not to snicker and Ghul laughed. Antony cracked a smile; interesting to note that the Rain Guardian's grief wasn't as all-consuming as he had initially been led to believe, but it might be him doing that emotional compartmentalization that Rains were noted for being able to do. Erica giggled before telling Pýř that his story was terrible, but funny and...

"And it got you to laugh didn't it?" He pointed out, proving his choice was entirely intentional.

Ghul shared another story about Kuchisake's cooking class, with Vahn translating and condensing the elaborate phrases into something more easily understood when necessary. As Kuchisake's cooking class was all about food, poisons and how to use illusions for various effects on them, Ghul had no shortage of such stories to share.

Vahn's came from his time as an intern at Varia's Medical. Medical didn't poison people, but they did see a lot of victims of poisoning. This meant they had a surplus of stories as well. Maghirabi's painted ceiling did absolutely vile things to anyone who was seeing double or things that weren't there.

His partner had already shared a few stories before he had left to get Erica and Antony, but the both of them tended not to get poisoned themselves and his partner had a record of preventing teammates from getting poisoned even by accident by reflexively checking everything. As Erica and Antony were here, they couldn't share the legacy stories they had heard of past Varia, unless that member was already known to Erica and Antony.

"Hmm, how about the time I was poisoned in Medical?" Maínomai suggested, as if that didn't violate the Rule that Varia Medical did not poison patients. Vahn gave a Maínomai confused look, because Vahn knew what happened to those in Medical that accidentally overdosed anyone with anything. Poisoning someone else while in Medical was given nothing less than what such a violation of trust deserved.

"And how come I'm just now hearing about this?" The younger Mist asked.

"Because it was during my first year as Varia, the incident happened shortly after Christmas and there were mitigating circumstances? Besides, it was only a paralytic, so no internal damage done. And people don't like to talk about the aftermath there. They found it embarrassing."

"Details." Ghul demanded.

"Anyway, to set the scene, the post-Christmas period and a little after New Years is a time when a lot of people take off time to go on holiday, if they aren't already gone. So it's mostly Housekeeping, the dedicated and the ones that didn't think to secure time off and travel arrangements in advance that are still there. It's also pretty boring since most people are cleaning, training or doing paperwork. So I ended up over at Medical, translating medical journals and so on from various languages while getting the medical jargon explained to me. The Sun that was explaining the medical jargon was painting her nails. Normally nurses and so on aren't allowed to have painted nails because of bacterial concerns or the polish flaking off, but this polish is a paralytic. A rather fast-acting one especially when combined with a touch of Sun Flames; very good for keeping those injured in bed or from making escape attempts."

That would be Magharibi then that his partner was referring to.

"Unbeknownst to pretty much everyone, there were a trio of Mists in a courtyard practicing. They were all pretty much even in power and skill, but they were practicing different skills. One had created a flowering tree, so there was Mist-pollen and fragrance everywhere, all over the building since it was a really nice day and the windows were open. I never found out what the other two were practicing exactly, but they all pretty much managed to sabotage each other. This wouldn't have been so much of a problem if it was just sensory warping, but one of them was practicing reactionary hi-jacking. In other words how people react to sensory input."

Ghul winced and Vahn grimaced; both were definitely familiar with how that could go wrong.

"So those that had been smelling the tree-illusion –which was pretty much everyone with active Flames in the building– all abruptly had a sudden, irrational response. One that no one was prepared for, knew how to stop immediately or could control, because it was in the air and every subsequent breath just made it worse. Like sudden terror and running away, or an urge to fight. Then there's urge number three, which a fair number of people succumbed to after a brief tussle. Except there I was, on the floor in Medical, immobile from a paralytic and there she was, unable to move because of a Mist-trick I pulled."

Pýř was pretty sure he knew the exact trick his partner had pulled off. It worked by fooling the other person into feeling exactly what the Mist was feeling. Pulling that off on Maghirabi meant she couldn't move until his partner could, unless she could get him out of her head. Which she wouldn't have been in any state to achieve, considering the circumstances.

"In that respect, we both got off rather lightly as nothing that we would later regret happened." His partner said, very ambiguously. "This event taking place is why, for several months afterwards, Tyr showed a notable lack of caring for a bit of personally motivated murder between Varia who were affected. Up until Squalo killed him, anyway. Now that I think about it, most of those who died during those months wouldn't have made it through Xanxus' shake-up later."

A lot of those that were no longer Varia following Xanxus' shake-up had not met his standards for what he wanted the Varia to be, as professionals and as highly skilled people who were always working to improve. The lazier Mists, the most uncooperative and so on either retired or ended up dead, possibly by Wrath Flames.

"Antony, your turn," he reminded the failure of a Rain Guardian.

Antony hummed, tapping his fingers on the rim of his plate. "Are any of you –other than Erica of course– familiar with how Xanxus got so good at Mist-tricks, both using them and sensing them?"

"No," Maínomai said eagerly, eyes brightening at the prospect of a new and potentially amusing story about their absent Boss. There were vanishingly few Xanxus-stories in the Varia pool and having a new one would be valuable currency.

"I'll share it then, on the condition that you never tell him who told you," Antony said solemnly, eyes glinting with humour.

"Deal," Pýř conceded, liking that Antony was treating Xanxus' return to the Varia as inevitable. It was a promising attitude in one so closely affiliated to the main Vongola Famiglia, suggesting that Nono might have a timeline in mind regardless of the current crisis.

"Back when Xanxus was thirteen and learning everything about Flames that he could either read about or persuade people to show him, he decided that the best person to ask about Mist-tricks would be Nebbia," Antony began. "It probably had something to do with Nebbia being the most accessible Mist as well, since he was always there when Xanxus was visiting Ottava. Anyway, thirteen-year-old Xanxus demanded to be shown how to do Mist-tricks while visiting Ottava for a family tea-party. Nebbia of course being a contrary old bastard completely ignored him and poured another round of tea. Xanxus, piqued, then demonstrated that he could conjure Mist-Flames and nearly gave Fede" –the Rain stuttered for a moment– "nearly gave Fede a conniption, because Mist wasn't Xanxus' secondary or even tertiary affinity. So Fede interrupted and demanded to know how Xanxus had learned that, which Xanxus being Xanxus used to taunt him. Two cups of tea later, the argument eventually got to the point that Fede actually stuck his tongue out at Xanxus. Xanxus naturally did so right back, at which point it suddenly became clear that somehow Xanxus' tongue had been dyed blue."

Antony paused for effect as Erica giggled into a hand and Maínomai snickered helplessly at the mental picture of their barely-pubescent Boss suddenly realising he'd been tricked.

"Of course Xanxus instantly accused Nebbia, who pointed out that he had asked for it. I've never before or since seen Xanxus look so utterly stymied," the Guardian finished, smiling faintly at the memory.

That was a very funny story and did explain how Xanxus had always been so very good at picking up on Mists trying to play tricks on him; such a beginning would have challenged him to really excel in noticing such things.

"My turn," said Erica, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"It can wait until tomorrow if you're that tired," Maínomai said considerately.

"No, I'll manage," Erica assured him with a weary smile. "It's a funny story and you'll get a kick out of it."

"Oh?" Now Pýř was curious.

"This is the story of the cat who saved Federico from being drugged by a very cunning social climber," Erica said wickedly, eyes gleaming as Maínomai promptly slammed his hand over his mouth to smother laughter. Oh, so it was about Banshee and why Federico hadn't been able to persuade anybody to remove her from the Vongola Mansion. Not that Pýř was entirely sure how or why she'd suddenly moved there at all.

"So, two years ago Federico was given a very fine cat called Banshee by an anonymous admirer," Erica began, then had to stop because all three Mists were having trouble containing themselves. She patiently waited them out then continued, "Not long afterwards he had to host a small soirée for yet another batch of mafia women Don Vongola was trying to tempt him to pick a spouse from. Which was dumb because Vongola men are all stubborn as pigs, but my opinion wasn't sought; anyway, moving on. At this party there's food being carried around on trays and drinks being served, and about two hours in a prettied-up gold-digger Federico was talking to offered him her barely-touched glass of champagne, stating that she didn't like the taste. Federico, having been raised to be polite, accepted the glass but dropped it a moment later when a screeching, snarling cat dropped from the curtain rail above them and nearly took the gold-digger's eyes out."

That sounded altogether hilarious and completely in character for Banshee.

"Of course the woman is wailing and demanding the cat be put down for rabies, but Hamlet is quite possibly the most cynical and suspicious soul on the planet where women interested in her Sky are concerned, so she tests the spilt champagne while Macbeth is miserably failing to coax Banshee down from the curtain rail she's retreated to. The champagne turns out to be spiked with a very interesting aphrodisiac and fertility drug combination that probably would have resulted in Miss Gold-Digger conceiving the next Vongola Heir had the cat not interfered; as it was she got in a whole lot of trouble and Hamlet decided they were keeping the cat. Federico never won a single argument with Hamlet after she became his Guardian back when they were both kids, so the cat stayed in spite of later incidents and protests."

Maínomai actually fell off his chair he was laughing so hard; Pýř wondered how exactly his partner had been involved in moving a Varia cat into the Vongola Mansion.

"And while I really would love to do another round, I am shattered," Erica finished frankly. "Ghul, the cake was magnificent; I'll see you all in the morning." She left the kitchen.

"I would like to turn in too," Antony admitted. The Rain did not look like somebody who had been sleeping well recently.

"I'll get you some blankets," Maínomai volunteered, darting out of the kitchen towards the bunk room where the spare bedding was kept.

Pýř decided that he would have an early night too; Erica was planning something and whatever it was, he wanted to be there for it. Seeing as Erica was a morning person by necessity –if perhaps not by nature– that would mean getting up early, which wasn't his favourite thing. Or even in his top twenty favourite things, to be honest.

Pýř was woken up the next morning at the disgustingly early hour of six thirty by the sounds of movement and hushed voices in the kitchen. It was probably the attempts at keeping the noise down that had woken him; he'd have to let Erica know that in future she should just talk normally. The problem with having a sixth sense for subterfuge was that in domestic situations, subterfuge was occasionally considerate rather than malicious, such as a mother and her young children making an effort to not wake the other people in the house.

Deciding that since he was awake, he may as well get moving, Pýř slowly levered himself out of bed and slid his feet into a pair of slippers before shambling off towards the kitchen. It was his house, so he was allowed to wander around in pyjamas if he wanted to. He only bothered with the slippers because tile floors were cold and the shock of the chilly ceramic against the soles of his feet was like an ice pick through the brain at this time in the morning.

As he had expected, there in the kitchen were Erica, Amadeo and Serena. The kids being louder today than most of the previous week could easily be explained by this being the first time they'd seen their mother since before the lock-down; they'd been asleep when she got in the previous evening after all. Serena responded to his arrival with a happy smile and a wave, but Amadeo looked guilty.

"Sorry for waking you, Onkel," the five-year-old said contritely. "Serena was excited about mamma being here."

Pýř waved off the apology, then blinked as Erica waved him into a seat and placed the teapot she'd just finished filling in front of him, next to the mug and sugar bowl. Sniffing, the Cloud grunted appreciatively; his preferred morning tea, all ready for him. How considerate. He'd have to wait a few minutes for it to brew properly, but it was still tea he hadn't needed to make himself and there was an entire big pot of it. One more reason why making Erica Territory had been a wonderful idea.

Erica then continued to prove that she was the best possible kind of Rain by putting bowls of Haferbrei in front of both her children, complete with dried fruit and milk, then turned back to the stove and started cooking bacon over a slow heat in between feeding mouthfuls of food to Serena. The bacon smelled divine; Pýř put the odds on a kitchen invasion by sleep-walking Varia Mists in the next three minutes at two hundred to one. He amended those odds to 'dead certainty' when she got out another pan and started cooking sausages as well.

The first to arrive was Ghul, who slid into the kitchen, stole enough bacon out of the pan to make a generous sandwich then wandered out again, plate in one hand and cup of cappuccino in the other. Vahn arrived just as Ghul was leaving, but rather than pilfer from the stove raided the cupboards for a plastic wrapped brioche and a carton of peach juice. Pýř then remembered that Vahn didn't actually eat pork if he could help it; to be honest it wasn't a subject that came up often and was more of a personal choice than a religious one. The Cloud had a feeling there was a story there, but a quarter to seven in the morning was not the right time for that discussion.

Considering that Antony had been sleeping on the couch in the open area in the middle of the ground floor and everybody therefore had to walk past him to get into the kitchen, Pýř found it disappointing that the former Rain Guardian was the seventh person to enter the kitchen that morning rather than the fourth. The only reason it was merely disappointing rather than completely disgraceful was that Antony had been awake when Pýř shambled past him twenty minutes earlier; awake and eavesdropping. Considering the only reason Antony had been allowed into the building was that Erica had wanted the other Rain to spend time with his godson, deliberate avoidance was somewhat suspect.

Antony had shown up before Maínomai though, which was something. Maínomai slept like the dead and was upstairs, so the cooking smells wouldn't reach him for a while longer.

Antony accepted the sausages Erica served him and picked at them in a vaguely interested manner as she made herself scrambled eggs and sorted out a pot of coffee. Amadeo, having finished his breakfast, stared thoughtfully at his godfather.

"What did you do?" the five-year-old asked as Antony finally finished a sausage.

The Rain stared in confusion, clearly having no idea where the accusation had come from.

"You're acting like you think mamma is going to tell you off," Amadeo elaborated patiently. "So what did you do?"

"Well?" Erica asked, sitting down directly opposite the frozen Rain and looking him calmly in the eye over her cappuccino.

Breakfast and a show. Definitely worth getting up horrendously early for.

Erica was peripherally aware of Pýř settling himself into the background, a freshly poured mug of tea cradled protectively in both hands as he subtly effaced his presence from the kitchen. She didn't mind him being there at all; all the better in fact. Antony would be more reluctant to lie with a Varia assassin in the room, one able and willing to call him out on any bullshit. Amadeo also had a very keen nose for evasion, so Antony had limited procrastination time available to him. Added to the simple fact that Antony needed a meal and a coffee in his system before his brain got up to full speed...

She held the field advantage; Antony knew it and knew she'd done it on purpose. Was likely already trying to work out why she'd done it, thinking back through past transgressions... and there was that guilty wince again.

"Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?" Erica asked, her voice serene and her body language blandly curious. "I can tell it doesn't have to do with me directly, so it's probably something that affects me peripherally. A family matter; nothing to do with the wider Family though. Not my mother; not my children. That just leaves my brothers."

Antony had somehow folded in on himself without actually moving as she coolly hemmed him in with words and instinct. The Vongola Intuition may have been most obvious and potent in Skies, but that didn't mean that those of the blood who weren't Skies didn't have a touch of it of their own. Erica's Intuition was strongest when she was dealing with her immediate family, which was how she'd picked up on Antony's guilt in the first place.

"Ruggero is perfectly well, which leaves..." Erica trailed off, eyes narrowing. Benvenuto was her little brother and she was very protective of him, even though he was a brat who delighted in winding her up. "What exactly have you done to my baby brother, Antony?"

Pýř stirred briefly at her accusation, lidded pink eyes boring holes in the side of Antony's head. Her late uncle's Rain Guardian shifted uneasily. "Nothing?"

"You don't sound convinced," Erica said clinically, swallowing a mouthful of eggs. "Negligence is also a course of action, you understand."

"It's outside Vongola jurisdiction!"

Erica set down her cutlery; Antony winced at the faint, staccato clink they made against her plate.

"It seems to me," the CEDEF Head Secretary said softly and deliberately, "that Nono is not the only one to have forgotten that there is a distinction between family and Family. True, the Vongola cannot interfere with the Cosulenza Esterna, but there are no rules against expressing concern for the well-being of close relatives. In fact doing so is encouraged, especially if there are concerns about the well-being of children."

"Erica..." Antony said weakly.

"What has my incompetent Boss done to my baby brother, Antony?" Erica could feel her Flames beating in her ears, the distant roar of floodwaters and monsoons gathering momentum.

"Inappropriate training," Antony mumbled, poking his last remaining sausage with his fork and not looking her in the eye. Well that was wonderfully unclear, wasn't it?

"Should I go upstairs, mamma?" Amadeo asked, once again proving that he had a truly excellent mind.

"Please do so, darling boy," Erica said with a smile. Serena was watching everything with wide eyes and her fingers shoved in her mouth, but didn't seem bored or upset so Erica let her be. Amadeo hopped down off his chair, walked around the table for a hug and took the opportunity to glare at Antony before darting out of the room.

"Tell me or I will have Maínomai ask for me," Erica said flatly, having run out of patience. "I am sure he will manage to peel the details out of your brain eventually." That Antony could easily be gibbering wreck by that point did not need to be said, just as it did not need to be said that Erica would get away with it with a mere slap on the wrist. Her mother had considerable authority and would consider her actions fully justified.

Antony cringed. "Dying Will pills."

"Are a crutch but not inherently harmful," Erica rebutted. "Try again."

"Hyper-"

"-Dying Will mode is only appropriate for Skies," Erica finished, a vague sense of horror building in her gut. "Pýř, remind me again why I can't kill my idiot cousin-once-removed?"

Pýř grunted. "Make the Family look weak, spook the allied Families, invite more assassination attempts," the Cloud growled. "Give it a year or two."

"I will do then. I will also have to ask Maínomai for ideas so that there will be no more training," Erica decided. Her little brother's life depended on it. "Keeping him distracted should not be too challenging, all things considered, although it will mean more paperwork."

Antony looked like a wet cat, the sad kind who wanted to guilt you into things. Erica ignored him; he'd brought this upon himself by not confessing sooner. "Don't you look at me like that; you know exactly what the problem is yet you didn't care enough to put the health of your Sky's nephew ahead of Family politics. Be grateful I'm not going to tell my mother how long you and the others have been sitting on this." Because this was definitely something her idiotic uncle and his Guardians had been failing to deal with for quite some time.

Antony made a squashed mouse noise at being threatened with the Head of Vongola Housekeeping and fled the kitchen in disarray. Erica did not move, breathing evenly through her nose as she tried to calm herself down enough for rational conversation. It was unfortunately a lost cause.

"Pýř, can I leave Serena with you? I need to go stand in the shower for a bit."

The Cloud nodded, setting his mug down on the table again and waving a hand towards the kitchen door.

"Thank-you. I don't mind you telling Maínomai but no further please; most people don't know Basil is Vongola and my mother would like to keep it that way."

"Hyper Dying Will?" Pýř asked.

"Is documented as being messily lethal to all Flame-types other than Skies," Erica said shortly. "Finding that out is how Quarto's first Guardians died."

"Stupid."

He meant Iemitsu and Erica honestly agreed with him. Unfortunately Stupid was not a killing offense in the CEDEF, or else the Family would have another 'mysterious' murder on their hands within the week. One that would have been incredibly well-earned.

Erica had spent the rest of the weekend with her children. His partner had also spent a considerable amount of time with Erica as well; the Mist had come down for breakfast as Erica was going up to shower, which led to a terse summation of what had just occurred in the kitchen.

Maínomai frowned as assembled his own breakfast. "Alterations to achieve that are possible, but they have to be done exactly right. Especially since this is something that couldn't be explained as a joke or something done 'to impress my date' like I did a couple of Christmases ago. I'm actually surprised that one hasn't been removed already, since it is fairly obvious and very simple. This would be more complex, involving changing his priorities at the least –which is an obvious tell depending on how vocal he is about them– and at most would involve changing his perceptions of people. Considering that, since he is a narcissist, he doesn't recognize people as people unless they're special like he is. More like obstacles, or extensions of himself at best. I could probably logic-loop him there, since Basil is his apprentice, so of course Basil is going to work hard like he would without his input and so on, overcoming difficulties and so on."

"And how easy would that be?" Pýř asked, because that sounded to be too simple.

"Easier, although logic-loops like that wouldn't stand up to any extensive questioning into why he believes it because it is circular reasoning. Still, it's Sawada Iemitsu, who's going to question him other than Nono? Who has that sort of right? Nono is unlikely to force things since he hasn't on other topics of importance, so I should probably be able to get away with that. It really depends on how often such training is and the effects of it –other than death– being unknown. Plus Iemitsu would want to see progress of the technique, which means he'd still have to practice it on occasion. Maybe I could get Iemitsu to decide to not ask too often, or I could further distort his perceptions? Or make him forget outright that this is something he's teaching Basil? I'd have to talk to Basil for his opinion about which he'd rather do, get Vahn to see what effects this sort of training has from a medical standpoint. Then I just have to find the time and place to make the change."

"You're forgetting the best part," Pýř informed his partner, who was too focused on plotting things out to focus on the wider picture. "Your surveillance mission for the Lanzas isn't just glorified babysitting now."

His partner giggled at the irony.

Translations

Onkel = uncle (German)

Haferbrei = porridge, oatmeal (German)

All other Varia names and words have been translated previously, or are English.