The dark-haired man calls Atlas as he strides towards the office. The phone click is heard as he asks, “Where are you?”

“I will be dealing with the mess you made. I’ll be back by midnight at the latest,” Atlas curtly said, before ending the call.

The dark-haired man frowns at the brisk tone of voice directed at him. Frowning, he dials another number and says, “Scramble a team together, an urgent job has come up.”

“Yes, sir,” came the swift reply. The dark-haired man swiftly returns to his office to begin preparations to flush out a mole.

*

That night Cessair returns from the grocery store with milk and some general groceries. The house is dark and quiet when Cessair pulls into the driveway. His feet crunch loudly against the newly fallen snow. With a grocery bag in each hand, Cessair fumbles to open the door until he manages to get it open. The house is dark as he stomps his boots clean on the welcome mat, before making his way to the dark kitchen.

No doubt, the kids were already in bed and his wife was waiting in bed. Smiling cheerfully to himself he places the groceries on the kitchen counter, when something catches attention, a faint unknown scent. Before Cessair can react, he hears something moving towards him and a second later a head-splitting crack is felt. Cessair falls to the old kitchen tile floor as a boot appears in his line of vision and nothing more.

*

The Queen Mother glowers hatefully at the emotionless mortal before her. “I should kill, you where you stand! Do you think I am not aware that it is your people who killed my only child, my poor son, Draco! I should have you torn limb from limb, while you yet live as punishment!” The Queen Mother roared from her ivory throne.

Atlas coldly says, “Your child was dealing in humans. We had warned him and he was aware that the agency would not tolerate his actions again. The agency represents humanity interests and you best remember that your majesty. I needn’t remind you of the pact between the Conclave and the Agency and the recursions should you break the truce.”

The Queen Mother’s nostrils flair in anger as she leans back on the ivory throne. “I am aware of the pacts in place, you, deplorable little man,” The Queen Mother hissed. “I will abide by the pacts, but the pact does not apply to personal bloodline feuds. I declare it to be so, a life for a life until the debt is repaid, the Conclave shall never more tolerate your presence, Atlas Starr. Envoys are to be sent in your stead if needed. Now, depart at once from my court before I claim what is rightfully mine!”

Atlas Starr nods at the Queen Mother before departing from her court. Firmly escorted out of the Conclave. Atlas enters the waiting chopper on the roof and signals for the pilot to depart. Over the sound of the chopper rotors, Atlas says into the intercom, “I need to be dropped off prior to the agency.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilot stated making the arrangements as they head to the nearest airport.

*

Soft whispers can be heard as Cessair groans awake. A flashlight flickers in his eyes causing his splitting headache to roar even more. Cessair over his splitting headache tires to find his family. He can scent his family nearby in the house, frightened. Squinting his eyes, Cessair sees a figure sitting in the shadows. Cessair growls, “What do you want with me and my family?”

The man says, “It’s you I want, they are merely unfortunate collateral damage.”

Cessair swallows and says, “What do you want to know?”

“Simple, I want to know, who you work for?”

“I don’t know, I was merely asked to follow you. Nothing more.”

“Is that really, all?”

“Yes, you can check my phone and home. I haven’t taken any pictures or done anything else, I was merely told to watch over you,” Cessair said.

“I see, how unfortunate.”

Cessair stiffens, “What do you mean?”

“Had I known, I would have reacted less drastically. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk,” the man muttered as he climbed to his feet. Men suddenly move and hold Cessair’s head still as Cessair struggles to no avail. The shadowy man stepped into the light with a needle in his gloved hand.

Cessair’s eyes widen in recognition of the figure. “I’ve been meaning to test this out, but I just haven’t found the right subject. I suppose you will have to do,” the dark-haired man as he injected the fluid into Cessair’s neck.

Cessair feels a warm feeling come over his body as the men drag him towards the basement. Cessair weakly struggles as he feels the change forcefully come over him. “I hope you enjoy your meal,” the dark-haired man said as Cessair was tossed down the basement stairs.

Cessair tries to speak but is unable to as his gaze goes red and he begins to forcefully change. The screams of his wife and children fill his ears until soon there is warm flesh and blood in his mouth. Nothing, but red and even more red to fill his world until there is nothing left.

*

On the flight home, Atlas receives an urgent call. “Sir, a wild changeling has been caught. It was a timber wolf who went rogue and slaughtered his entire family. Shall we put him down?” The personal asked.

Atlas hand tightens around the phone as he crisply says, “No, I want to see him first.”

“Yes, sir,” the agent said as the call goes dead.

Atlas in a croaking voice says, “Cancel my previous orders return to the base immediately.”

The pilot nods in understanding and heads back towards the base. Hours later the flight lands and Atlas arrives at the base. Atlas firstly rather than seeing to his wife makes his way to the containment cells. A muzzled timber wolf is chained to the floor as Atlas peers through the cells.

Atlas tiredly closes his eyes and leans his head to rest against the metal bars. “I’m so sorry, old friend,” Atlas remorsefully whispered. The Timber wolf lets out a soft whine at his words and pads over. The wolf’s golden eyes seem to glimmer with moisture as it gazes up at him. Atlas reaches through the bars and removes the muzzle. The timber wolf shakes his head as the collar and chain ring loudly in reply.

Atlas tosses a blue pill onto the floor, before the softly growling wolf. “The cure is still in experimental form, it should return you to yourself, but it might take years. But not matter who long it takes I will come back for you,” Atlas said.

The timber wolf chomps down on the pill and swallows it. The large wolf lets out a soft whine and scratches something on the floor with its claws. The timber wolf howls twice before padding back to the original spot to curl up into a ball with his tail tucked over his face.

Atlas narrows his eyes at the rough sketch. A circle and line going out, the symbol of Mars or male gender symbol. Atlas eyes dart in rapid thought as he pieces some of the puzzles together. A frigid look appears on his face as Atlas turns on his heels and marches away. As he strides through the agency, the agents move out of his way. Without knocking, Atlas opens the door and harshly orders, “Leave us!” The agents scramble out of the door as Atlas closes the door firmly behind them.

The dark-haired man glances up in surprise and says, “What is the matter, Atlas? If it’s about the changeling, I can assure he was a spy. I saw the perfect opportunity to test the drug and on a criminal as the subject. And as expected the results were perfect even better than I expected. And now, the entire changeling population true faces will be shown to the world, that of wild beasts. It will be now so easy to label the changelings as threats and systematically destroy them.”

Atlas face became even icier if at all humanly possible. “The drug labs and scientists are systematically being destroyed. That drug is far too dangerous to be allowed to exist,” Atlas retorted.

“But, why? It’s perfect for our uses, Atlas?” The dark-haired man protested in confusion.

“And then what, a purge of all those who are carriers of the changeling traits? And then where will that leave us! The agency is trying to save Humanity not systematically destroy it,” Atlas frostily declared.

The dark-haired man sighs and says, “You’re right. I just got a tiny bit caught up in finally being able to protect humanity from one less threat, I’m sorry Atlas. It won’t happen again.”

“And it won’t, you’ve been reassigned to the business department,” Atlas matter-of-factly stated.

“Atlas, you’re over reacting-,” The dark-haired man objected only to be interrupted.

“I warned you to not push me again and you disobeyed me,” Atlas icily said. The dark-haired man opened his mouth to apologize, but it is too late. “Do not push me again,” Atlas warned, before storming out of the office. And from then on, their relationship would only break down until it completely severed away.

*

The medical grizzly doctor of the agency rubs his tired eyes and takes a seat in his dark office. A few seconds later, he finally notices that the lights off are off in his office. Reaching to turn on the light, the doctor stiffens as a soft needle prick is felt at the base of his skull. The doctor tumbles onto the desk and becomes still. A few minutes later, a nurse appears to see the familiar figure of the doctor sound asleep in the dark on his desk. The nurse chuckles to herself at the familiar site and closes the door. She would come back in an hour to waken him.

Sadly, that would never happen until morning due to an expected emergency in the ER. By that time, the doctor was pale and stiff. The autopsy would reveal the doctor died of natural causes, a heart attack. A few days later the funeral was held in private with even Mr. Starr in attendance.

After the funeral, the members of the medical staff returned to the agency, but Atlas Starr took a side trip to an undisclosed pub. Atlas having called ahead enters the empty bar, where Tim is already waiting with a drink ready on the bar. Atlas takes a seat on a bar stool and drinks down the shot of scotch in a single gulp. “Another,” Atlas said as he slams the shot onto the bar.

Tim furrows his brows and thinks better of it. Grabbing an entire bottle of scotch, Tim pours himself a shot, before placing the bottle before Atlas. Atlas pours himself another shot and downs it once more. “What happened?” Tim quietly asked.

Atlas grimaces at the question and pours himself another drink. “I killed one of my own,” Atlas softly answered.

“But why is this time different, you’ve done it before?” Tim solemnly asked.

“I-. I killed an innocent man for knowing too much merely because I can no longer trust my own,” Atlas murmured, before swallowing the fourth shot in a row.

Tim takes the scotch bottle away from Atlas’s grasping hand. Atlas glowers at the bar owner but doesn’t speak. “I told you, Atlas, I warned you. Once you tread down that path, there is no turning back except for death, which is the only end,” Tim chastised.

“I have no choice,” Atlas bitterly said.

“We always have a choice,” Tim reputed.

“My son was taken away from me-, but it is of little comfort to me that he will live, knowing who and why he was taken. My daughter’s abilities were destroyed and remains alive as a target, my only weakness so to speak. And my wife-, my wife believes I no longer love, because I cannot bare for the weight of my sins to be passed down to her,” Atlas said as he bows his head forward.

“And now, I-, I will have no choice but to harden my heart to protect all that I hold dear. I will destroy that which I love with my own two hands to save them. I-, I don’t know what else to do. Please, tell me, what I should do, grandfather?” Atlas pleaded and raised his eyes upward, begging for help as he meets his grandfather’s gaze.

Tim glances away and aloofly says, “I walked from the council and my family a long time ago. I am merely known as Tim, now.”

Atlas’s face freezes at the frigid words that freeze his heart over until any hope that was left was crushed in that single statement. A smile strangely appears on Atlas face, the smile that would become infamously known through the world as the devil incarnates smile appears. “I see,” Atlas decisively said. Atlas reaches into his suit and pulls out the amount for the drinks, carelessly tossing the bills onto the bar. “Payment for your services rendered, Bartender,” Atlas curtly said.

Tim stares blankly at the money and before he can speak. Atlas turns away and says, “Goodbye, Bartender.” That was the last time Atlas Starr ever was kind. From that moment on, Atlas Starr would become the man known throughout the world as the devil’s incarnate. The monster and devil feared by all.