The car ride back to the Norman estate was quiet. Norman and Annabelle exchanged not even a single glance. The servants silently escorted them back to the house and into their rooms. Norman collapsed onto his wide bed.

"I am such a moron," He tugged his head into an embroidered pillow

After a moment of wallowing in pity, he stood up to change outfits. He caught himself in the mirror. The cheek had swollen pink and sore.

He decided to go to the kitchen to fetch himself an ice pack. The kitchen was not too large, but noisy enough to amount its own room. The chef was not there as he was given the off for the afternoon because of the party. Yet, to his surprise, the lights were still on.

"Is anyone there?" He asked.

After hearing no answer, Norman investigated further. He found the fridge room door open.

"Hello?" He pulled on the door.

It was Annabelle, munching on some pie from yesterday's lunch.

"Annabelle?"

"Tobias?" She dropped the piece and gulped down what she had in her mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"I would ask the same for you."

"What, did you get your fill from those teeny tiny crackers and coffee?"

"I ate before we left."

"Rude."

"Who's the one eating pie in the freezer?" Norman pointed at the pie. "Are you going to eat that?"

"...Yes?"

"Then, fetch me a piece too."

"Fine," She took out a small knife.

The two walked out of the kitchen and enjoyed a silent meal together in the living room.

"How is your cheek?" Annabelle sat down on a bench.

"Sore." Norman lay on the sofa.

"He really smacked you, then."

"Sure did," Norman pressed the pack.

Annabelle swiped off some crumbs from her lips. "You talked with dad, didn't you?"

"What? How did you know?"

"I could tell," She sighed. "But I won't pry into it."

A moment of silence.

"How about we talk things over?" Norman asked.

"You want to start?"

"I don't really have anything to say. Every time I open my mouth I get slapped."

"But can you be honest with me for a second? Do you really want to be here?"

"...I want to go back, but I don't want my friends to get in danger because of that."

"You might be right about that."

"Then, what about you?"

"I...It's not something easy to say."

"Hit me. It can't hurt more than this," Norman shook the pack.

After a bit of collecting herself and her thoughts, Annabelle told the truth.

"I have a lover."

Norman's lips flickered and burst. "That's the first thing you admit to your husband?" He laughed.

"Could you not?"

"Sorry, sorry. It caught me off, guard. Who is the lucky fellow?"

"She lives in Califa, my hometown. We were childhood friends."

"You're on the wrong coast, then."

"I know."

"Then why didn't you run off with her?"

"As if that would ever work."

"Then how is a remote relationship going to work?"

"I will visit her during vacations and some business trips."

"So what's your plan? You use this wealth to get money for your honeymoons?"

"What do you care?"

"About my parent's money? Nothing. Take a good nest egg with you and take a hike to Papagalli or whatever."

"I can't do that. What would mom and dad say?"

"Your father said it was alright."

"...I told you not to tell me."

"If anyone, he still cares about you. Whatever you choose, he will accept it. You know that, right?"

Annabelle covered her face. "Now, look what you did. You ruined my makeup."

"I can tell."

"Don't just rub it in!" Annabelle snapped while drying her tears.

"No, I can tell that he is a good man."

Annabelle swiped off her makeup, ruining her sleeve.

"It takes one to know one," She said.

"Yeah, right," Norman scoffed. "The man that abandoned his friends, and stole his sister's magic, Norman the abominable is a good man."

"You are beating yourself more than that name does. I haven't heard it in years."

"You know what's the best part of it? It's not because I stole her magic, but because I dared to go against the academy, to touch the taboo. Not even my family cared that I stole her dreams."

The last words hushed Norman into a pitiable frown. "I guess it's just the right name for me. I'm a selfish man. A fraud. Abominable fits just right."

"Who says that? Your friends? Your sister?"

"N-no."

"Then what the hell is the matter with you?"

"I don't deserve those people."

"Well, that's up for you to decide."

Norman let out a laugh. "That's just what your father said."

"I can believe that," Annabelle crossed her arms. "This is just exhausting. Get a therapist or something."

"You mean my mom?"

"Right. I guess that would not work."

"There's nothing for me to do." Norman stood up. "Thanks for the food. Good night." He walked.

"Think about it. I want to hear your answer," Annabelle said as Norman walked past her. "In the meanwhile, you can start looking for a job. I won't let myself be the only moneymaker in this household."

Norman walked silently back into his room and went to bed without even bothering to take off his clothes. Hard as he tried and as exhausted as he was, no sleep came to him.

Emil's part members sat around the table with mixed feelings. Some were surprised, some doubtful, and then there was Hortensia.

"Why didn't you tell us that you had a son?" She hugged Orel with a bear hug. "Especially one this cute! He reminds me of my little brother!"

"Please, Hortensia. You're crushing him," Emil sighed.

"I've hugged him tighter," Ándras said with a hint of jealousy.

"It's all right." Orel gasped between the smothering arms. The grip was not as tight as his mother's.

"Ah, but I did not introduce myself, did I?" Martin stood up. "Martin Bamford, researcher, genius..."

"Daft fiddler," Aston coughed. "Aston Moers, the brains of the operation."

"If the brains were full of nuts," Martin scoffed.

"You useless piece of work!" Aston yanked Martin's mustaches.

"Overgrown bookworm!" Martin pulled on Aston's beard.

"Shut it!" Hortensia snapped, still fiddling with Orel's hair. "You are bothering our guests."

Aston and Martin glanced at each other, then back to Orel's messy hair, and decided to stay quiet.

Catori leaned against the wall, hoping he had plugged his ears before the meeting.

"Catori," He nodded at Orel.

"Wow, a zou. A real one." Orel noticed.

"With a big sword," Ándras pointed.

"Don't be fooled by his looks, Orel." Emil brushed his fur. "This furball is as soft as he looks."

Catori punched him in the gut. "I told you to stop that."

"And I'm Hortensia," She finally released Orel from her grasp. "Orel, was it?"

"Yeah," Orel tried his best to fix his hair.

"Are you following your father or something?"

"That's what we're here to discuss," Emil with small breaths.

"And who's the big guy?" Hortensia asked.

"Ándras, nice to meet you. Hmmm. Something about you feels familiar."

"I don't think we've met."

"I got it!" His face lit up. "Your hair reminds me of desert bushes!"

"Right," Hortensia rolled her eyes.

"We also have one more coming here," Orel reminded.

Emil thought for a moment. "How about you tell what you've been up to while we wait for him?"

"Oh, sure," Orel sat down.

"Oh ho ho." Ándras smiled. "Hang onto your boots."

Telling his stories to his father made Orel smile with the warmest of smiles. Ándras enjoyed telling about their travels, but nothing compared to seeing Orel happy again.

"Orel, you," Emil was out of words, "You've come far, huh?"

Orel blushed at the compliment. "It's all thanks to Norman and Ándras."

"No, no, no. Don't be so humble." Ándras poked him with his shoulder. "You're the one who kept us together."

"You're a family of adventurers, that's for sure," Hortensia said.

"To discover the world at that age," Catori noted. "Such bravery."

"But now I see why you are here," Emil flicked his glasses. "If I had the time, I would like to have a word with that man too."

Someone knocked on the door. Hortensia went to open it, and it was no other than Diarmuid.

"Hello," He greeted awkwardly.

"Good, we are all here," Emil said. "Let's start planning."

"We have the map of the general area." Martin laid it on the table, folding it out like a large cloth. It looked like a reverse pyramid since it filled a large canyon. "What you call Eden's gate is the mere entrance on the fifth level. The residents refer to the whole thing as Babel. It has seven layers with an even more multitude of sectors, but what we need to be wary of is the first layer, Paradis. It contains both the highest peak of Atlas and the MIB headquarters with the ruling elite. Sneaking up to it is a real challenge."

"Why can't you come from the top?" Orel asked.

"There are a few entrances from there, but I would advise against it."

Diarmuid took a look at the map. The complex filled the canyon from top to bottom, bored to the bedrock, and continued from the mountains in the east to the dam in the west. The top was covered under a layer of sand, where only the very tips of the Academy towers pierced through as slim yet tall cones beside a few security checkpoints for elevators.

"Tighter security?" He asked.

"Much tighter," Aston added. "We barely got out while Catori provided a distraction. The elite guard will be on the lookout."

"That is why I have the perfect path we can take. It can take us to Paradis," Martin said.

"How?" Orel asked.

"Through Atlas academy."

"Allow me to explain," Aston coughed.

"No, I will tell it!" Martin grunted.

Emil stepped in. "The academy goes through the two highest levels. By going through there rather than the roads on the sides, we can avoid most of the security."

"Hey, that was my line!" The two yelled.

"Sounds a bit too simple." Diarmuid thought aloud.

"The second floor is the main grounds of Atlas, and getting into the school grounds is only slightly easier than the roof entrance," Emil explained.

"But that's where we need to go, right?" Orel asked.

"Yes?"

"Then we will go through there." Orel looked sternly at the map.

"You got your mother's stubbornness, that's for sure," Emil smiled. "You almost said like you wanted to bust through it."

The concentrated stare at the spot made Emil furrow his brow.

"Might I ask you something?" Diarmuid lifted his hand.

"Oh, yes, go ahead," Emil lost his concentration.

Diarmuid stood up and took turns exchanging glances with the party. "Firstly, what are you looking for? I mean for all of you."

"That is..." Emil struggled to answer.

"We are here to prove him wrong." Aston and Martin said.

"Prove him wrong?" Ándras asked.

"After the last site, this utter moron has had the idea that the legendary adventurer is his grandfather," Aston explained.

"As if!" Martin scoffed. "That's why we want the artifact. To shove it to his face and prove him wrong once and for all!"

"For once they agree on something," Hortensia sighed.

"Because he's obviously Jiy lai Shante," Martin said.

"Jihaise Alard. How many times do I need to say it?" Aston raised his fists.

"Okay, time's up. You two are getting out." Hortensia yanked the two short men up from their collars.

"No, please!" Martin pleaded.

"We will be nice!" Aston nodded anxiously.

"Then act like it!" Hortensia dropped them back to their seats.

"I see..." Diarmuid ended it at that. "What about you, miss?"

"I'm just here to explore and travel. It runs in my veins," She said while stretching. "These guys said they would take me to fun places, and they managed to keep it up."

"You're risking your life for that?"

"I can do whatever I want with my life."

"Whatever floats your boat," Diarmuid shrugged. "Then what about you, wolfman?"

Catori gave a small glance to Emil.

"It's alright." He nodded reluctantly.

"I am with them for only one purpose: To destroy the Norman family." Catori's face stiffened.

"What, why?" Orel was shocked.

"I need to see them suffer for what they have caused."

"Yeah, this was going to be a problem," Emil scratched his back.

"What have they done to you?" Ándras asked.

"I am speaking for all zous here in Puerta Blanca. The Normans and the MIB let those crooks poison our community."

"What do you mean?" Orel asked.

"MIB was founded by Gaius Norman. After his retirement, it moved to his son, Romus. They are the masterminds of the operation."

"Sounds all too familiar," Diarmuid said.

"But don't they work?" Orel asked. "Aren't they trying to capture that gang?"

"They need to keep the drugs in the streets so they have crimes to solve. They mow the lawn they grew themselves."

"Then what is even the magic in their name?" Ándras asked.

"Truly, it would be better to call them the Mage Investigation Bureau."

"Then, what will you do there?" Diarmuid asked.

"Fear not. Our paths diverge once we reach Paradis."

Diarmuid felt hesitant to agree.

"Was that all?" Catori asked.

"Yes, thank you." Diarmuid sat back in his chair.

"Where was I? Yes, the plan." Martin remembered. "First we will have to wait until the heat goes down."

"What if we go now?" Orel asked.

"You get caught," Martin said bluntly. "Or, we can hope for plan C."

"And what's that?" Diarmuid asked.

"To wait for a desert storm."

"A desert storm?"

"A lot of sand flying around. Gets in everywhere," Hortensia explained.

"We will use its cover to breach Paradis and sneak out before they realize it."

"Sounds dangerous," Diarmuid said.

"Is that different from what you've already done?" Emil asked in turn.

"I did it for public safety, not theft."

"Then what's this for?"

"I'm not risking my life over this, but I won't let this one go die just because he wants to see his friend," Diarmuid nodded at Orel.

"Um, thank you," Emil felt hard-pressed to acknowledge it. "Well, I think we are done here. Let's keep communications open and see how this turns out."

As others scattered, Emil noticed Orel looking over at him with anxious eyes.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I thought we could...You know, hang out. Chat."

"Sure, sure. It has been six years."

"Eight."

Emil's face dropped to a mournful mope.

"I see," He sighed. "I was supposed to go pay a visit in between, but time just passed so darn quickly."

"But you did write."

"It took you coming to me and for us to meet. How could I forget something like that?"

"Sometimes you just forget." Orel slanted against the table. "After the last trip, I felt kinda down. It was not a fun trip. People got hurt and...I just didn't like it. But then I got back home, and mom and everyone were there, and I didn't feel bad anymore. It's hard to remember them when I got something else on my mind."

"Tuja, mom, Deras..." Emil stared at nothing. "After this is done, I'm coming back to greet them. I have to."

"Yeah!" Orel smiled. "But for now, could we maybe go have a walk?"

"Sure, son. Let's."