The walk back to the apartment felt more than twice as long as it actually was. It wasn't that he was travelling any slower than he normally did, nor that he had taken a different route. It was all because of what had happened earlier that afternoon, and how much it occupied his thoughts; how much he was obsessing over it.

Theo did not know what to do.

He was angry at himself for speaking out of turn, for admitting his complicity in greater events. There was an apprehension over the possibility of failure, disgrace and isolation. There was disgust at himself for showing a perceived weakness and allowing its display. Lastly, there was an odd clinging dread that he would ultimately be rejected, but strangest and most disturbing of all: a peculiar and inexplicable fear over the way Torsten had looked at him.

It was somewhere between hurt and confused.

The sight had evoked a powerful and unexpected reaction within him.

He didn't want Torsten to feel that way ever again.

He wanted to make it right, but he didn't know how.

He was so preoccupied he didn't notice who was waiting outside the apartment door in the stairwell, even as he was fiddling with the keys in the lock.

"Hello."

He started at the voice, almost dropping the keys, and turned. The visitor stood from where he was sitting, near the bottom of the stairs to the floor above, and strolled casually across to lean on the wall next to the door.

"Oh. It's you."

The man in the suit gave a smile that was barely lukewarm. "It's past time for us to talk, Theo."

"I- ... I didn't want to say anything unless I had something to say."

"Ah, but that is why I am curious enough to be here, now, in person, as it were." The tone was soothing, but Theo knew this was the soft side, and that the apparent fraternity of his older comrade could be traded for a hard edge at any second. It was simply how he was. "You have been silent for longer than I anticipated." He paused a moment, the afternoon daylight glinting off the lapel pins, a handsome impassiveness coaxing out Theo's explanation. "So, what have you to tell me?"

His grip tightened on the keys, and he withdrew them from the lock, standing straighter, an attempt at self-confidence to fortify his justification and guard his motives. "Well, uh, he is close to trusting me, and soon-"

"Close?" The look was one of disbelief. "Weeks have gone, and this is all you have to tell me?" He gave a shrugging flick of the hand in dismissive irritation, eyebrows raised, as if to ask why this task was so untimely and slow. "Charm and seduce him, compel him, twist his perceptions until you have what we seek; whatever method you choose, I care not, but ... get it done. Nothing requires such delay, unless-" He paused again, and there was something Theo did not want to see, not in this one's expression: realisation. "Unless you have an infatuation with this boy. Unless you have developed ... feelings ... for him."

Theo had never felt so cornered, never so threatened by one of his own. There was a desperation to it that was foreign and unnerving. "I don't want to hurt him to get what is required! He doesn't deserve th-"

"Deserve?" The word was laden with disdain. "Does the lamb deserve the teeth of the lion? Does the dragon deserve the cession of his world to men? Does fire deserve submission to treachery and well-spoken lies?"

"Please. I want to spare him, that we might find another way to-"

"Listen to me, little one." The man in the suit gripped his shoulder, his voice falling back to low and gentle, even if the message was anything but. "I will indulge this momentary flight of fancy because you are kin, but heed well what I am about to say, for the rest of the Conclave will not have such sympathy for your tardiness. It is this: remember what you are. You are a lord of the natural order, an example of the greatest living force in all history made manifest; greater than our cousins above and below, but more than anything greater than those who surrendered our birthright to ally with the mewling thrall of humanity. You are the heart of power, and he is an insect."

"I- ... I don't- ... this isn't what-"

"Hey, Theo." Another voice came from the stairs below, the newcomer stepping onto the flat. It was Mr Wu, the friendly middle-aged Chinese gentleman from one floor up, carrying groceries to his apartment. He was staring pointedly and disapprovingly at the hand clamped tightly on Theo's shoulder, the tension clearly present. "This guy giving you trouble? You know him?"

The hand left his shoulder immediately, the eyes glaring at the impertinence. Theo felt the raw strength of will focus and impose; a casual display of power much beyond what he could manage himself. The resistance was small, and wholly inadequate to deal with the command that followed.

"Forget what you saw here and begone from my sight."

Mr Wu jolted like he had been slapped. He blanched, clutching the groceries tighter, and wordlessly walked past, eyes wide and forward focused, and without stopping went up to the next floor.

"You understand? Insects." The man in the suit continued, the inconvenience done with. "Cattle. Upjumped primitives with delusions of grandeur drawn from their own bloated self-importance and fueled by the magical agency of the true enemy. Our own kind deserves emotion, be it hate or love, joy or sorrow, but spare no sentiment for the human parasite. When the end has come and our justice is finally done, they will be a slave race. You can have your pick of whatever survives as you please; food, or a plaything, or any trifling amusement a serf can provide, but do not fool yourself that they are worth your concern. Pawns. That is what they are, and all they can ever be."

"I- ... I'm sorry, I just- ... I want to do what's right-"

"Then do as you were asked. Your skill is particular and necessary. Employ it. Embrace your heritage. I will not tell you this again. Do you understand, little one?"

"I ... understand."

The man in the suit nodded, matter-of-fact and indifferent, the acceptance agreeable enough.

"Good."

With not a word more, he turned and strolled off down the stairs, in moments out of sight. Theo turned again to the door, inserted the key, twisted, opened and closed it, and promptly leaned back, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor.

Everything was wrong.

He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.