"A wonderful device, is it not? I think we can call this 'evening the odds'." Nero lightly kicked the sheet of carefully manufactured metal plates he was standing next to. Bright lanterns blazed to illuminate the inside of the ramshackle building. The windows and doors had all been carefully and thoroughly boarded in order to prevent any light from escaping. "Of course, it's not going to be as big as the final product was originally intended, but it should be a fun little thing to use anyway."
The Highlander made no response, sticking a tongue out of the side of his mouth as he pored through a thin leather-bound volume. As the pair spoke, members of Scythe's gang carried parts and pieces from a tunnel that had been dug beneath the building. The tunnel didn't extend very far--it reached to just outside the walls and was flimsily hidden by shrubbery--but it was enough to avoid the gates and it more or less avoided most road traffic. Of course, even that small, cramped tunnel had taken several months of nonstop work, and more than once its construction had risked detection, but so far it seems that the gang's efforts had been worth building such a route.
Nero frowned as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms. "I even labelled the parts for you. Getting the pieces into Thanalan wasn't easy, you know." The Hyur snorted. Of course, given that he no longer had the Forte, leaving Thanalan undetected would be far more difficult than entering.
Suffice to say, he was more or less committed to this course of action now.
Scythe made no attempt to respond as he carefully traced a meaty index finger through the ink of the paper, his gaze having taken on a quality of sharpness that most would consider uncharacteristic of a brute of his size and girth. It was only after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence that he spoke. "And this will work?" he growled.
Nero shrugged. "I'd certainly be disappointed in a certain genius Elezen if it didn't. He had all of that raw material and wanted his precious reactor to have some practical application. Though, if nothing else, you can use the plates as shields. Maybe whack some people over the head with them."
The pirate received an unamused glare for his efforts.
Another shrug. "Just be glad I'm not charging you for this. I'm giving you all of this out of the goodness of my heart, you know." The familiar smirk flashed itself across his face, a twinkle in his eye. "Call it a sentimental gift for old times' sake."
"The sooner I am rid of you, pirate, the better," the Highlander pressed his lips together disdainfully.
"After everything we've been through?" The Midlander put on a wounded expression that came across as grotesquely demure and wholly inappropriate for a man of his age.
"Enough," Scythe snarled, folding the leather-bound pamphlet into his robed sleeve. "As long as this device works, then I've no more need for you or your coin." Nero merely grinned for several minutes before unfolding and refolding his arms, his countenance taking on a considerably more serious expression.
"The device will work, I guarantee you. I wouldn't have bothered getting the parts into the city if there was a chance it wouldn't. And have no worry, after this little escapade I've no more coin to spend anyway, not that I'd give much more to you if I had." True, this endeavour had cost him practically everything. Though his savings would lend him a modest living--at least for a decade or so, if he maintained some measure of frugality--all of his funding was truly required in order for this to work. Nero was certain that someone had noticed him liquidating all of his assets, though by the time they connected the dots, it'd likely be too late.
It was absolutely an all-or-nothing gamble.
Nero lightly tapped the sheets of metal with his foot. "Just be aware that once you've started the reactors, you won't be able to turn it off. A little bit of a design flaw. It'll keep chugging until it explodes or runs out of fuel. The run time will be about seven or eight bells of continuous operation.
"What about magic?" Scythe grunted. Nero shrugged.
"Gilding it would have taken money I don't have, but it should be reasonably durable. It's not as flimsy as your average reaper. Then again, you boys have guns for a reason." Another shrug. "Anyone starts trying to cast aether at it, just kill them." The pirate brushed a hand through his hair. "In any case, try not to waste this, hmm? I'll be very disappointed if I can't see the fireworks from Vylbrand."
Scythe grunted and gestured to a group of idle men nearby. "My associate assures me that assembly should be relatively easy so long as you're careful. Oh, but you won't be able to fit it out the door, so when your little revolution is ready, you'll probably have to simply bust down the wall."
Nero received no response from the Highlander who was now thoroughly absorbed with the thin leather volume. With a smirk, he pulled his hood over his face and ducked into the tunnel to leave.
He'd thought his involvement in this was done, but it seemed he was wrong about himself. A rare occurrence, perhaps, Roen was right about one thing: he couldn't have left it as it was. It required some resolution, some ending. If Scythe was successful, then Nero would be vindicated in his beliefs, and if Scythe failed, then Nero would also be vindicated in his beliefs. So long as he himself didn't get captured or killed, this would be worth it.
Women and children, women and children. The phrase was enough to give him a rousing headache. Nero pinched his temple between his thumb and index finger as he sidled along the narrow tunnel. No, at this point he didn't particularly care about women and children. It wasn't as if his conscience had fully left him--probably--but this had ceased being about lives long ago, though Nero's past self failed to recognise it. This was a war of ideals, and it was a message, too. It was a message about inaction, a message about crossing lines, a message about morals, a message about change.
It was a message, that everything had a breaking point.
Nero pulled out a chronometer from within the folds of his tattered robe. Soon, all of the principle actors would be where they needed to be.
It was just about time for the curtain to rise on the finale.
The Highlander made no response, sticking a tongue out of the side of his mouth as he pored through a thin leather-bound volume. As the pair spoke, members of Scythe's gang carried parts and pieces from a tunnel that had been dug beneath the building. The tunnel didn't extend very far--it reached to just outside the walls and was flimsily hidden by shrubbery--but it was enough to avoid the gates and it more or less avoided most road traffic. Of course, even that small, cramped tunnel had taken several months of nonstop work, and more than once its construction had risked detection, but so far it seems that the gang's efforts had been worth building such a route.
Nero frowned as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms. "I even labelled the parts for you. Getting the pieces into Thanalan wasn't easy, you know." The Hyur snorted. Of course, given that he no longer had the Forte, leaving Thanalan undetected would be far more difficult than entering.
Suffice to say, he was more or less committed to this course of action now.
Scythe made no attempt to respond as he carefully traced a meaty index finger through the ink of the paper, his gaze having taken on a quality of sharpness that most would consider uncharacteristic of a brute of his size and girth. It was only after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence that he spoke. "And this will work?" he growled.
Nero shrugged. "I'd certainly be disappointed in a certain genius Elezen if it didn't. He had all of that raw material and wanted his precious reactor to have some practical application. Though, if nothing else, you can use the plates as shields. Maybe whack some people over the head with them."
The pirate received an unamused glare for his efforts.
Another shrug. "Just be glad I'm not charging you for this. I'm giving you all of this out of the goodness of my heart, you know." The familiar smirk flashed itself across his face, a twinkle in his eye. "Call it a sentimental gift for old times' sake."
"The sooner I am rid of you, pirate, the better," the Highlander pressed his lips together disdainfully.
"After everything we've been through?" The Midlander put on a wounded expression that came across as grotesquely demure and wholly inappropriate for a man of his age.
"Enough," Scythe snarled, folding the leather-bound pamphlet into his robed sleeve. "As long as this device works, then I've no more need for you or your coin." Nero merely grinned for several minutes before unfolding and refolding his arms, his countenance taking on a considerably more serious expression.
"The device will work, I guarantee you. I wouldn't have bothered getting the parts into the city if there was a chance it wouldn't. And have no worry, after this little escapade I've no more coin to spend anyway, not that I'd give much more to you if I had." True, this endeavour had cost him practically everything. Though his savings would lend him a modest living--at least for a decade or so, if he maintained some measure of frugality--all of his funding was truly required in order for this to work. Nero was certain that someone had noticed him liquidating all of his assets, though by the time they connected the dots, it'd likely be too late.
It was absolutely an all-or-nothing gamble.
Nero lightly tapped the sheets of metal with his foot. "Just be aware that once you've started the reactors, you won't be able to turn it off. A little bit of a design flaw. It'll keep chugging until it explodes or runs out of fuel. The run time will be about seven or eight bells of continuous operation.
"What about magic?" Scythe grunted. Nero shrugged.
"Gilding it would have taken money I don't have, but it should be reasonably durable. It's not as flimsy as your average reaper. Then again, you boys have guns for a reason." Another shrug. "Anyone starts trying to cast aether at it, just kill them." The pirate brushed a hand through his hair. "In any case, try not to waste this, hmm? I'll be very disappointed if I can't see the fireworks from Vylbrand."
Scythe grunted and gestured to a group of idle men nearby. "My associate assures me that assembly should be relatively easy so long as you're careful. Oh, but you won't be able to fit it out the door, so when your little revolution is ready, you'll probably have to simply bust down the wall."
Nero received no response from the Highlander who was now thoroughly absorbed with the thin leather volume. With a smirk, he pulled his hood over his face and ducked into the tunnel to leave.
He'd thought his involvement in this was done, but it seemed he was wrong about himself. A rare occurrence, perhaps, Roen was right about one thing: he couldn't have left it as it was. It required some resolution, some ending. If Scythe was successful, then Nero would be vindicated in his beliefs, and if Scythe failed, then Nero would also be vindicated in his beliefs. So long as he himself didn't get captured or killed, this would be worth it.
Women and children, women and children. The phrase was enough to give him a rousing headache. Nero pinched his temple between his thumb and index finger as he sidled along the narrow tunnel. No, at this point he didn't particularly care about women and children. It wasn't as if his conscience had fully left him--probably--but this had ceased being about lives long ago, though Nero's past self failed to recognise it. This was a war of ideals, and it was a message, too. It was a message about inaction, a message about crossing lines, a message about morals, a message about change.
It was a message, that everything had a breaking point.
Nero pulled out a chronometer from within the folds of his tattered robe. Soon, all of the principle actors would be where they needed to be.
It was just about time for the curtain to rise on the finale.
