"Don't send sheep to kill wolves, 'Cross.'"
"…They're just bait. Goodbye, 'Mr. X.'"
Bang~
A single gunshot echoed, signifying another life lost.
After confirming the target was dead, Cross loosened his grip on the pistol and lowered the scope to look across the way.
Killing had long since numbed him. But his only son was the last warmth in his cold world.
"An interesting paradox, isn't it? The top assassin in the world… has someone he refuses to kill."
"Who's there!?"
The voice was unfamiliar. Though the room should have been empty, someone had spoken. Cross whirled around and drew his gun.
In the same motion, he spotted the intruder—and found the muzzle of his gun already pressed to the person's forehead.
…
…
Cross instinctively assumed the Brotherhood had come for him and was about to pull the trigger—when the most startling thing happened.
The gun in his hand vanished… and reappeared in the intruder's.
"Toy like this won't work on me—but no one likes having a gun aimed at them," Melin said casually.
Cross ignored the joke and dove toward a stash—beneath the table, between sofa cushions—he had weapons hidden all over. But…
Melin and Galon simply stood by, amused, watching Cross scramble to arm himself… only to find that every hiding place was empty.
"Galon."
"Yes."
At that moment, a tiny rift in space opened behind Cross, and a cascade of weapons came tumbling out—clattering into a small mountain.
Seeing this, Cross knew—there was no escaping this time.
"So… the Brotherhood has mutants now?" he muttered, grabbing a bottle of liquor and taking a swig. Though a killer, he wasn't ignorant of world affairs. Mutants had been making global headlines recently. Everyone knew about them by now.
"I don't know if the Brotherhood has mutants. But we're not Brotherhood. Oh, though… she is."
Cross glanced at Fox, who stood silently behind Galon, then looked back.
"Alright, looks like Sloan called in outsiders. Typical of him—breaking the rules again, as usual."
"So?"
"I have only one request. Don't hurt Wesley. He knows nothing."
"You're that sure… we're here to kill you?" Melin asked with a mischievous smile.
"Aren't you?" Cross was startled, glancing at Fox.
Fox didn't answer. But Melin did: "Of course not. I'm just interested in you, thought I'd come take a look. As for her… let's call her a prisoner."
"…Huh?" Cross was thoroughly confused now. A mutant and a Brotherhood agent show up in his hideout, perform a magical 'gun trick,' then claim they're not here to kill him?
Hell—since when did Brotherhood members get taken prisoner?
"I'm just curious about one question. Will you answer it?" Melin sat across from Cross.
"Do I even have a choice?"
"Fair enough. Do you think… your son is happy right now?"
Cross froze, unsure how to answer.
Wesley had been under his watch his entire life—deceived by an unfaithful girlfriend, bullied and manipulated by a toxic boss, betrayed by a 'friend' who seduced his girl…
Wesley's whole world was miserable. In that pitiful existence, he barely knew who he was anymore.
But…
"At least… he's not like me," Cross finally answered.
"Is that so? Well… I think you'll be seeing him again very soon—this time, face to face."
Cross paused. "…What do you mean?"
"Interested in joining me for a trip to the Brotherhood?"
"You're saying—no! I won't tell you where they are!"
Now Cross was sure—they were after the Brotherhood. Maybe even planning to wipe it out. But they didn't know the location. Fox hadn't told them.
He wondered why she hadn't. Why find him, spare her life… and keep her silent?
Still, Cross wouldn't reveal the Brotherhood's location.
He didn't defect because of the Brotherhood itself—but because of Sloan. Even in defection, he still honored the Brotherhood's creed. He didn't want to destroy it—he wanted to restore it.
"XX location. The textile factory."
"You! How do you—!?" Cross turned to Fox, horrified, but she just shook her head.
"Don't look at her like that. She's pretty, sure—but you've got a wife and kid, remember? And it wasn't her who told us," Melin joked.
"Then how…"
"There's nothing on Earth I can't know—only things I don't want to know," Melin said simply.
"Who… are you?" Cross asked.
"Ever heard of Sanctuary?"
"You—You're from Sanctuary!?"
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Melin."
At those words, only the sound of a shattered bottle and the heavy breathing of Cross and Fox filled the room.
"Heh… someone like me… caught the attention of a god?" After a long silence, Cross muttered, picking up another bottle and laughing bitterly.
"What kind of person should catch my attention? A successful socialite buried under masks? Pretty boys and girls?"
"…Shouldn't they?"
"Pretty faces are dime a dozen. Interesting souls? One in a million. Besides, I'm married."
"Oh? That's big news. The official site says your wife is Athena, right?"
"Yep. She's one of their assassination targets this time," Melin said, casually pointing at Fox.
Upon hearing that, the corner of Cross's mouth twitched violently. Fox nearly collapsed.
Cross: Impressive, my man! Even assassinating gods now!?
Fox: Whose idiotic intel was that!? Sending me to assassinate Athena?! Oh goddess, please just be a peaceful deity and stop tricking us poor pure-hearted assassins by showing up as a little girl!
"So… are you looking for revenge?" Cross asked.
"Not exactly. Just want to make sure Athena's life isn't disturbed. Also… I'm very curious about that so-called Loom of Fate."
"…Let's make a deal. Kill Sloan, and I'll guarantee the Brotherhood won't bother you again."
"Only equals get to make deals. Do you think we're equals?"
"…I've got nothing but myself to offer."
"Hmm… forget it. Come with me first. Who knows—maybe your beliefs are about to change."
"I won't—"
He never finished the sentence. The world around him spun. The scene changed.
They were there—the Loom Chamber. A place of legend. Cross had only seen it once before.
And there, before him—stood the Loom of Fate.
"My lord," Galon said, donning his Sacred Cloth and taking his place beside Melin, as Cross and Fox looked on, stunned.
"Hmm, I feel it too… This really is a huge surprise," Melin murmured.
Just hearing the word "fate" reminded him of an old acquaintance—a certain god who once abused her powers, was wounded by him, and fled.
"You… How did you get here?"
Sloan had arrived, staring at the strange group, trying to figure out their purpose.
"SLOAN!" The moment Cross saw him, his eyes blazed. He instinctively reached for a weapon—but came up empty. His guns were all long gone.
Melin ignored Sloan and instead turned to the Loom.
"Not going to come out and greet your old friend, Clotho?"
The Loom stopped. Its glow grew intense, forcing everyone to shield their eyes.
When it faded, the Loom was dull—just an ordinary loom now. A phantom floated above it. She had sapphire-blue hair, a black gown glittering with crystal stars, a sheer veil over her face, and eyes like the night sky.
"Melin…" she said, her voice low, teeth clenched, seething with resentment and bitterness.
"Ah, Master! You've finally shown yourself!" Sloan dropped to his knees in reverence.
"SLOAN! YOU—!" Cross and Fox were in shock. The cunning, self-assured Sloan… now groveling like a shameless dog. If the phantom weren't floating, they were sure he'd be licking her toes.
"Heh… Still using these methods, Clotho? Pathetic," Melin sneered.
Clotho, Guardian of Fate, daughter of Zeus and Themis—goddess of destiny itself.
"You think this is my fault, Melin? It's all because of you! YOU! I became this because of you! If it weren't for you… If only you had accepted me…"
"Stop. Clotho—if it were Athena, she'd never become what you have. So don't blame me for your own fall."
"Hmph! Her again! Athena! That snot-nosed girl! Why her!? Why does she get to have you!? I didn't want to take you away—I just wanted to share! Why her and not me!?"
"Because she's my wife. And I'm her husband," Melin answered firmly.