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"There are indeed quite a few secrets on this island," the Death lead gave Lawr a very pointed look as Mark fidgeted very obviously and nervously, kicking at the printer under his desk, "and I will decide if it requires further intervention. A den of snakes that consumes themselves would be less of a problem if they did not feel so entitled for their own share of power." He leaned over on his desk. "Entitled and powerless. If you feel so entitled to your opinions then challenge me for power. Otherwise, your opinions mean nothing. They are just the signs of ignorance and stupidity."

"This division by its very nature is subverted. Each and every one of you have a right to suspect each other and to suspect others. That keeps you anticipating what could happen next. Mistrust is simple. If you think the other division leaders care for your well being, then you and I live in very different worlds and only one of us has power. That being said, mistrust is simple, but fear is absolute. I do not want your trust, I want your obedience and fear. I want you to complete simple, menial tasks and produce results. If you die in the process whether through ignorance, disbelief, through lack of your own ******** faith, then it is just proof of how ******** weak and powerless you are. You have forgotten what it means to be a Hunter, to work in the system and instead have become feeble and entitled." The Death lead leaned over. "Many of you do not fear death, or rather, you have forgotten the fear of death. Opponents are easy to overlook when they look like each other. Ourboros, Deus Ex. The difference is so ******** easy. One does as they are told and the other does not. Both are organizations. Both require power. And when one collapses, what do you think happens to those without any power."

Taym's face shut down in the wake of Caelius's tirade, some internal switch flipped, some secret button pushed, possibly permanently, and his eyes, wandering the room, landed on Jane.

He stared at her blankly for a second before realizing who he was looking at--this happened every time--and then flipped her a vicious middle finger.

He was apparently out of commentary, and sank down into a resigned slouch, arms folded over his chest like a sulky teenager.

Shiloh almost looked hurt at Taym's words, having fought this war with himself for several months now. He certainly wasn't for the Ourboros but while Deus didn't exactly paint a welcome alternative, it was his life on the line, and the lives of those he cared about. He wanted so desperately to save everyone, but it was getting more and more difficult to believe he had any sort of fighting chance

"I only gave you the information you wanted, Obadiah. What I've given you is truth, and meant to help and if you choose not to use it, that's your perogative. Given that Deus is already prone to cannibalizing itself, it's, true the the Ourboros might well not exist."

He of course, had had first hand experience. The faint scars left on his face were testament to that, and he knew that he was to blame for it, that he'd been no better than the other party.

"But the fact is they do. I didn't show you Lucky's mark or list those names because I think those people are involved with Ourboros. Most likely almost none of them are. But you can see how easy it is for the group to move around Deus then, and as the Hunter Royale demonstrated, even now. The only people suggesting that we are turning on each other are those of you who are already not acting as a team, those of you who have been content until now to sit by and let this all happen. Deus does have an attitude problem, and you're demonstrating it very clearly right now. Everyone on the island is incredibly quick to hate each other, and I don't know why, it has nothing to do with anything the Ourboros has planted, nothing to do with the real threats but instead is the result of inane bullshit, of bigotry and people unable to set aside differences to realize that we do face a common enemy."

Or enemies, he thought, casting a subtle glance at the Death lead.

"By how easily, I don't think the Ourboros particularly care if we come to them alive or dead, or somewhere in between. Like I said before, they certainly have no problem disposing of anyone that would oppose them, and the only way to stay alive is to keep your eyes open. That doesn't mean you are going to go rat out the nearest person and that narrow line of thinking is the whole problem. If the Ourboros doesn't care about us, if the division leads don't care about us, then who does that leave? We're the only ones that can help each other, we're the only ones that can stop ourselves from stabbing each other in the back for the sake of a fight that isn't ours."

"The Ourboros might retain you under their heel, but it's out of the frying pan and into the fire, if you think they are going to give you anything that they promise, if you think that for one second they will keep us around after our usefulness runs out."

He paused, reaching a hand up to rub at his temple, to brush some his hair from his face before he looked up, looking at everyone in the room.

"If we cannot even unite a room full of several people, what chance in hell do we have of uniting the rest of the island? I'm aware of what the mission report asks but," he looked at Caelius again, and carefully considered the room's exits, "If it bothers you, don't spy on people, don't pick and choose what part of the job description you take as law. The Death division is supposed to be innovative, creative, so be that. Don't spy on people but keep your eye out. Do you not realize that staying aware, staying vigilant, serves more than one function? If you see something amiss, you could potentially protect someone, save a person's life... Isn't that at all worthwhile?"

He'd never learn, he'd never be able to stamp out entirely the hope that people could change, that every life was sacred, that being a hero wasn't only foolish. Because it was foolish, of course, idiotic and likely sending him hurtling toward a second death but if he could just get through to them, then perhaps it was worth it, worth dying again. He would be the example, if that was what it took for them to get over themselves. It wasn't brave, it wasn't noble, but he'd speak up.

He was used to tirades by now, and death threats even more so. He was scared as hell, when it came down to it, but he'd rather do something, than nothing at all.

Solia was quiet. Unusually so, sitting towards the back, taking a few notes here and there, doodling when the conversations turned dull or roundabout. When people of her rank or lower thought it wise and necessary to speak up and out and claim to know fact when really, most was speculation. What interested, and rather made her feel rather guilty of her own shortcomings was the idea and notion that she was part of a problem. A problem that needed to be fixed. Yes, she did disagree deeply with somethings, but overall, caelius had a very well thought out point.
Things happened and were as they were for a reason.
Logical and illogical, rules existed.
Paths were to be followed. Methods executed. Problems solved.

Another note added. And another. Notes all over her page, all over, written in tiny letters, in french, cursive, forming a drawing, if crude in it's use of shapes.

Hey eyes flicked up briefly at Caelius each time he spoke before they moved back to her paper and her notes. The form was received with small thank you before she sat back, and watched head down, pen moving from her notes to the paper, yet each letter written in that same cursive script as before.

Madison just watched, her face carefully blank, as the Hunters who hadn't really learned yet attempted to use what they thought of as logic on Caelius. She'd been that naive, once, but she couldn't even really feel sorry for them... not sorry, but not disdainful either. They just hadn't learned yet that their Division Leader was a wall with <******** YOU ALL written on it in huge letters, a wall none of them were capable of breaching.

So she sat in practiced silence until the paper landed in front of her. She studied it for a moment before writing - none of what she knew about Ouroboros was firsthand, and most of it had come from what the others had said, but the way Caelius was acting that wouldn't remain true for long.





... She certainly hoped nobody she cared about had gotten tangled up in all this. The thought of having to do more than spar against certain people made her heart twist up. While she could more than understand getting eternally pissed at some people Caelius, didn't they have a common enemy here? Ugh. As if the monsters weren't enough on their own...

Shiloh sat back down, quietly this time, taking the paper with an unenthused look. He'd just gone over all this, had he not? Yet everyone remained skeptical of what he said, and in the end he felt more defeated than ever. He wanted to scream at them all that he'd seen it with his own two eyes, that'd he been there, that he'd shared ******** breath mints with the Judge.

Why didn't they understand?



He handed the form back to Caelius, and not even bothering to glare at Lucky, slumped in his seat.