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Dragon Cycle	By : RubyRoh Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6229 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own WeiÃŸ Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Dragon Cycle – Chapter 26 – Discovery
Author's Notes: It’s been *mumble* years since I tackled this fic, but it nagged at me through all those years that I hadn’t finished it. So I got to work recently, and now it’s complete. This is the next chapter in this story.
No beta was used for this chapter so any grammar, punctuation, spelling, translation, characterization, etc. mistakes are purely my own work.

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Halfway back to the house, Schuldig stopped and listened, extending the reach of his mind as he searched for the voice he’d heard while he’d been in the spring. Time stretched out endlessly while the German picked through all the minds open to him, trying to find the one that had caught his attention.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed lowly when, minutes later, he drew back into his own mind without success.
This was all Farfarello’s fault, Schuldig thought as he finished dressing himself. Schuldig had told him to stop – several times – only to come back to the present to find his orders had been ignored and he was more aroused and closer to release than when he’d dropped out to try and track the mind that had snagged his attention with its enticing thoughts. Farfarello had kept on distracting him when he’d needed his whole focus on that elusive and oh-so-interesting mind. The Irishman had kept dragging his attention back to fucking and Schuldig had been unable to maintain that precious mental contact. If Farfarello had stopped when he’d asked it… Schuldig dropped the thought and let out a small snort. He supposed he couldn’t really blame the Irishman. He doubted that, situations reversed, he’d have been able to stop right then, either. Of course, that hadn’t prevented him from delivering an almighty mind smack to Farfarello.
Confident the Irishman would recover within a few minutes, Schuldig put all thoughts of him aside and once again focused on tracking down that elusive mind. It didn’t really surprise him when he couldn’t find it. When it had first snagged his attention, that mind had been right on the edge of his consciousness, oozing various degrees of anxiety, edginess and glee at the thought of finally taking Schwarz down for good. Now it seemed to have slipped beyond his usual reach.
But Schuldig hadn’t given up all hope. There was another method open to him, but in order to attempt it, he’d need a quality safety net – and there was no net safer than Brad Crawford. He was the only person Schuldig trusted when it came to things as crucial as his protection while he was mind-tracking.
Setting off towards the guest-house again, Schuldig knew he would prefer to find that slippery mind without having to overstretch his Talent. But he had enough faith in his own ability to know he’d survive the effort, mind intact. He was willing to risk stepping beyond the usual limits of his gift because finding that mind again would mean so very much.
First and foremost it would mean they could beat Eszett to the assailants and exact their own revenge. It would also mean the end of Stärke as their shadows, and the end of Stein and his vindictiveness. It would mean the restoration of the mental links and the end of their reliance on electronic devices during missions.
“I’ve got to find that mind,” Schuldig muttered to himself. He added another curse at Farfarello. Sure, he enjoyed having sex, but finding this bastard would be better. It would give Schwarz back the life they’d known. Once they had that, he and the Irishman could fuck to their hearts’ content.
Reaching the guesthouse, he went inside and headed straight for Crawford’s den. He rapped twice on the door and pushed it open before he received an answer.
The American was at his desk, tapping away on his laptop.
“Time to buddy up,” Schuldig informed him as he moved into the room. He grabbed the spare chair and brought it with him to the desk, setting it down alongside Crawford.
The precog finished up what he was typing before he looked across at his visitor. There was no reaction to Schuldig’s less-than-pristine appearance but Schuldig hadn’t expected one. He suspected that Crawford knew all there was to know about the last half hour or so.
Didn’t matter. It wasn’t why he was here. There was work to do and, to achieve his goal, he’d need the American’s help.
“Are you up to it?” Crawford enquired conversationally.
Schuldig considered the question for the briefest of moments before deciding Crawford wasn’t being snide and that the man was merely enquiring as to whether his mind was up to the task at hand.
“I can’t let this slip,” he replied seriously. “Someone’s being very careless and none of us can afford to wait.”
Crawford seemed unsurprised by this news and Schuldig was unsurprised by that. The American simply nodded and pushed back from the desk, swivelling his chair to face the telepath.
For a moment they held each other’s gaze; Crawford opening himself slightly to his telepath and Schuldig touching that mind usually closed to him. Satisfied they were both ready, Schuldig drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and hooked an anchor in place. Crawford’s reaction was muted: a slow intake of breath, nothing more.
He would watch for the signs he knew well enough to recognize should they appear, and he would call the telepath back should he get himself too lost in the hunt to notice he had put himself in danger. With his safety net in place, Schuldig stretched out his Talent, seeking a particular mind.
Up here, so far from the city, the minds weren’t pressed together, overlapping each other, loud and brash, pushing against his shields with unrelenting force. Up here he would have to go in search of minds beyond those in Takatori’s vacationing party.
He conducted a quick check of those in the immediate vicinity and found nothing amiss. Farfarello was conscious and buzzing happily from the hot-spring fuck and impressed that the mind smack had knocked him senseless for several minutes.
Schuldig gave a small smile before pressing ahead. He reached beyond the guesthouses and their occupants, searching for a mind that would provide the information necessary to bring their tenure as prey to an end.
Despite being farther apart, the minds up here differed little from those in the cities; too many occupied with the mundane, and too few entertaining any thoughts of interest. That was the trouble with the human mind, Schuldig mused, too self-absorbed so that one was barely discernible from another. He steered away from those indulging in sexual activity – he didn’t need the distraction. He avoided minds whose owners were asleep and dreaming. This time of night, there were a lot of those. But he was certain the mind he was hunting was not asleep yet. Its owner had been too agitated to have fallen asleep so quickly.
When Schuldig reached the safe limits of his Talent, he pressed on without hesitation. He was still tracking minds through relatively lightly populated areas, and he had Crawford watching his mental back.
He moved steadily through the night, trailing searching tendrils of thought through the minds of those within his reach, alert to the least nuance that would tell him he’d found what he was looking for. But as he searched he was conscious of the little voice in his head that was telling him he shouldn’t be looking this far out. The mind he’d heard had been on the edge of his consciousness, but it shouldn’t be so far away.
It wasn’t long before he gave in to logic and paid heed to the little voice.
I’m coming back, he informed Crawford.
Although there was no response, he knew the American had heard him. Schuldig began to pull back, still trawling through any mind he encountered. Fuck! He hated mind-tracking. People’s thoughts were all so boring in their similarity. Now and then he’d stumble on something really surprising, but mostly it was just the same old mundane, uninteresting bullshit he’d heard at least a thousand times before. The fact he hadn’t been able to track down the mind he’d been looking for only made him more irritated by the minds he could find. He didn’t doubt that he would find it, but he wanted to find it now, to start bringing this whole mess to an end.
…they won’t escape this time.
Schuldig’s mind grew still then, his whole focus shifted, narrowing in on that barest whisper of a thought. It wasn’t the words, it was the feel of the thought that drew and held Schuldig’s attention. It was the same feeling he’d experienced when he’d sensed that mind while he’d been in the hot spring.
As he homed in on the mind, he sensed something so very familiar yet so very wrong about it. He focused hard, trailing the stray thought to its home and pushing aside any distractions, including the familiarity and wrongness he sensed.
Drawing closer to his target, he was aware of other stray thoughts seeping through to him, all of them gleefully, anxiously centered on the downfall of Schwarz.
He didn’t want to be distracted but these other thoughts were coming from elsewhere and he had to know where. As it turned out, it didn’t take him long to discover their source. They were near the house, readying to ambush those inside.
Crawford, he sent quickly, you have visitors. Outside somewhere but close to the house.
Crawford may already have been aware of the fact, but these days it didn’t pay to leave anything to chance.
We’ll deal with it, Crawford replied, sounding completely in control.
Satisfied, Schuldig turned his full attention back to the task in hand just in time to catch another thought.
This is it!
It was clearly from the same source as the original thought that had caught his attention. Still, something niggled at him about these particular stray thoughts. It niggled insistently, refusing to be ignored. Something irritating and discomforting. He knew he should give it some attention. It was his own senses warning him that something was badly out of place, after all. But he couldn’t risk losing those ephemeral thoughts. So Schuldig kept his focus on tracking, deciding that he’d worry about the oddness once he had the mind firmly within reach.
Following the thoughts back to their source was tricky and took longer than he would have liked. When he reached his destination, Schuldig hesitated a moment, made cautious by the abnormality he sensed there. He knew that he should know this mind, but its identity was like a memory that keeps slipping the mind’s grasp.
Moving closer to that familiar and so-wrong mind, he still couldn’t identify it. It was a face without a name to him.
He held back, not yet willing to press ahead into something his senses were warning him against. Then a memory stirred, and he recalled what was so familiar about this oddness. Stein. A few days ago, when he’d entertained himself by dipping into the minds of the members of Stärke…Stein’s mind had him hastily back-pedaling with its peculiar feel. This, then, was what he was facing here.
Schuldig knew that, this time, there was no backing out. He had to step into that mind, and uncover the mystery there. Still, it wasn’t something he was going to rush into. He paused a long time, trying to recall if there was anything about that first visit that might help him here. Nothing came to him.
Delight - cruel and malicious - suddenly spiked through Schuldig. Its source could be only one man. The images that followed confirmed that Farfarello’s hunt had been successful and Berserker had found his prey. Schuldig tuned out and focused his attention elsewhere.
Crawford, I’m paying a visit on our friend, Stein. He seems to dislike us rather more than we’d imagined, he informed his leader.
I’m still here. If Crawford was surprised by what Schuldig said, he didn’t allow it to show. His mental speech was quiet – calming, in a way – and underlying it was a strength that promised all the protection in the world and beyond
Reassured by Crawford at his back, he took a slow breath and moved into the strangeness of Stein’s mind where he found a disquieting emptiness. Schuldig frowned to himself, remembering when he’d been unable to find Stein’s mind at all. Maybe…
“Schuldig. What took you so long?”
His frown deepened, puzzled. “Verena?”
“Welcome.” She appeared before him, wearing the smug expression of a cat that had got the cream.
The feel of shields closing around him made him suppress a shudder. No matter how confident he was he could break free, the feeling of being cloistered in someone else’s mind disturbed him at the deepest level. Blame Rosenkreuz and their curricula of education through terror.
“Don’t bother closing the doors, I’m not staying,” he said flippantly.
“Oh, I think you are,” Verena replied confidently as Schuldig tentatively probed for Stein or anything remotely Stein-like in this mind. “I know you’re thinking that you broke free of my shields once before,“ Verena continued, “and that was very helpful in gauging your strength. You are…extremely gifted, Schuldig. It’s almost a shame we have to kill you.”
Schuldig didn’t bother to correct her incorrect assumption. He concluded his silent search of this mind that was supposedly Stein’s, having found nothing of the man present.
“My my, Verena, what are you doing here and what have you done with Stein?” he asked conversationally.
“I’d have thought, all things considered, you would be pleased not to find him at home,” she answered. “As to the first question; neutral ground. I’m not allowing anyone in my mind.”
Schuldig knew Stein had to be here somewhere. Verena was hiding him. He thought back on the time he’d been in this mind and felt so on edge he’d left almost immediately. He also recalled when he’d been unable to find Stein’s mind at all, and how he’d heard the sound of Verena strengthening her shields around the same time. Things were starting to make sense.
Schuldig knew from experience how strong Verena’s shields were, but didn’t doubt he could break free when he needed to, despite what she’d said. He’d done it before at a time when Verena hadn’t been busy shielding other minds, as she was so obviously doing now.
He returned his thoughts to the missing-in-action Stein. He had to be here, locked away behind more of Verena’s shields. That meant she was stretching herself thinner than she’d probably like. More advantage to me, Schuldig thought, examining the barren wasteland of the mind surrounding him.
“It’s a shame, you know,” Verena said quietly.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Schuldig said by way of agreement as he continued his mental search for Stein. Right now, he had no idea where Verena was. His best guess was that she was at the hotel where Stärke were staying. But guessing was of no help. He really needed to know where she was before deciding his next course of action.
“I had thought, a little while ago, that we could have made a good team, the Dragon and Schwarz,” Verena continued.
“Dragon? That’s original,” Schuldig mocked.
“Dragons are vengeful…”Verena began heatedly.
“Fairy stories,” Schuldig cut her short. “And they’re always being slain, no?”
Verena drew a calming breath. “The name’s not important,” she dismissed the matter. “What is important is that we are enough on our own,” she said. “Eszett thinks they know it all, have it all under their control.” She let out a hard laugh. “But as you know – as Crawford knows – if you are wily enough, you can deceive those who pull our strings. You can deceive them into believing you’re not quite as powerful as you are; you can deceive them into believing they are your all and you would do anything they ask of you. Here’s an allegory I think you will appreciate, Schuldig: Rosenkreuz is similar, I think, to Nazi Germany. Recall the fervor and fanaticism Hitler inspired, that is what Rosenkreuz aspires to – that level of mindless devotion. And they believe they have it; they believe all those who pass through their doors and survive long enough to pass back out through those doors and into the world are as devoted as poor deluded Stein here.
“Those who pull our strings are blinded by their belief in themselves. Yes, they are endlessly suspicious but by the time they’re ready to let us loose on the world, they believe they own us, body and mind. They don’t bother themselves with souls and hearts, since such things clearly have no place in Rosenkreuz. But while believing in yourself is not a bad thing,” Verena took a deep breath, “the degree of that belief can be a dangerous thing. By the time they let us loose on the world, Rosenkreuz is convinced we’re totally theirs; lapdogs who’ll do what they’re told, when they’re told to do it. A dangerous thing to believe. As is believing that, no matter what, your students could never deceive the instructors and masters set to train them and spy on them.
“There are precogs who See more than they let on. There are telepaths who hear more than they admit. There are Shields who hide more than they protect.
“Take yourself, for instance,” she went on. “You managed a fine deception, didn’t you? Not only hiding just how strong a telepath you actually are, but also convincing your masters that they had tamed you into compliance. How wrong they were to believe in themselves. Then there’s Crawford. Shields so strong he could easily have trained for that Talent. But his precognition was better and so, his path was set. And of course…”
“Yeah, you’re boring me,” Schuldig cut her short. “You want to get to the point?”
She gave him a malicious smile.
“Oh, so impatient,” she chided. “Now, as I was about to say, there was, of course, me. Much stronger than I let anyone know. You know well enough how the deceit is worked, how easy it is to perpetrate the lie; a little failure now and again, struggling against stronger minds.” She paused for a heartbeat, her gaze locked with Schuldig’s. “Letting a strong field telepath push you out of his mind as he regains consciousness.” She paused again, letting the implications sink in.
Schuldig refused to buy it, and refused to admit he was less comfortable about the shields closed around him now.
“So.” Verena went on. “We will take them all down, Rosenkreuz and Eszett, without help.”
“Dragon will?”
“Yes.”
“Killing field teams is quite different to taking down Rosenkreuz and a million miles away from bringing down Eszett,” Schuldig pointed out what he considered should have been pretty fucking obvious, even to her.
“Without the field teams, Rosenkreuz is nothing. Without Rosenkreuz, Eszett is nothing.” Verena spat scornfully.
“I think you underestimate your masters,” Schuldig replied.
“Not at all,” Verena answered easily. “We didn’t get this far by underestimating our enemy,”
“You underestimated Schwarz,” Schuldig pointed out, taking a step to his right.
Verena’s smile grew mean. “You can’t spring a surprise attack on me,” she told him as he started to slowly circle her.
He was buying time while he weighed up his options. Right now, by his calculations, Verena was shielding Crawford, the thugs at the house, Stein and herself. Even for a Class-A Shield, that was stretching things a bit thin. Probably explained the mind leakage he’d been able to pick up.
Stein! Schuldig called, listening hard for even the faintest response.
Nothing. Schuldig made a decision. It would be a juggling act, but he had absolute faith in himself and his stealth. Besides, if it worked, the pay-off would be worth the risk. As he no longer needed it, he released the anchor from Crawford’s mind.
“What are you doing?” Verena enquired, amusement in her voice, as she pivoted to follow where Schuldig went.
Schuldig ignored her, busy with other matters.
The threat at the house has been neutralized, Crawford informed him.
Oh, god bless Crawford and his impeccable timing.
And finally one less thing on Schuldig’s mind. He sent a cursory acknowledgment and advised Crawford to get to Stärke’s hotel asap.
It was Stein? the American queried.
Schuldig laughed. Wouldn’t that be perfect? Unfortunately, it’s not him, it’s Verena. He could sense Crawford’s surprise. Well, to be fair, her treachery had taken them all by surprise. Don’t forget me, he added before turning his attention back to the situation in hand.
After several long moments, Verena spoke up.
“Why so quiet? It’s very unlike you.” She was still following his progress through the large empty space that had been Stein’s mind.
“Since you won’t tell me where he is, I’m looking for Stein. You’ve hidden him very well,” he replied.
“Oh? Still concerned?” she mocked. “This concern for him is concerning me.”
Schuldig continued to circle her at arms-length, knowing that Stein could hear him and was trying to make himself heard.
He waved her comment away. “Stein…Jerry…Clara…no matter who, it’s the how that intrigues me,” he answered.
Verena heaved an impatient sigh. “You will be left to wonder – but it won’t be for long. I’m done wasting time talking with you,” she said. “Our people were already in place and by now they have paid a surprise visit to the occupants of your guest house.”
“The house? You’re sure of that, are you?” Schuldig taunted.
Verena’s smile became venomous. “It was good of Crawford to allow me to Shield him again. As it stands, he had no warning of the attack. And you, you were distracted by an intentionally careless thought or two, so stood no chance of noticing the danger close by even had a thought escaped into the night.” The venom in Verena’s smile intensified. “Wherever you are, Schuldig, are you comfortable? Are you ready to die?”
“What?” the German feigned surprise. “You’re not going to reveal how you achieved all this, boast to me some more about how clever you are?”
“Oh, Schuldig.” Verena gave him a derisive look and shook her head. “A smart ass to the end. I doubt the world will miss you at all.”
“You’d be surprised,” he advised her. “Stein, on the other hand…” he let it trail.
“Once your body is dead, you’ll have no place to run,” she went on, ignoring his comment. “You’ll be trapped here. Then I’ll remove my Shields and sear Stein’s mind. I’ve been practicing, you know.”
Memory kicked in…white noise with the sound of screaming behind it. Oh yes, Schuldig knew.
“Stein’s Shields aren’t your Shields, of course, and they’re no match for me,” Verena continued, “and when his mind dies, so will yours. A shame, really.”
“So you said,” Schuldig replied.
“Stein wasn’t a bad leader, you know, until he allowed past infatuations cloud his usual good judgement…”
“I really don’t want to stand here discussing his supposed finer points,” Schuldig interrupted Verena. “Why don’t you tell me, instead, what you plan to do once you’ve ended Schwarz?”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “I hear your tone,” she said. “But you’re wrong. We will succeed but how can what happens be of any interest to you, who won’t be here?”
He gave a shrug. “Well,” he said, “you have to wait for word from your team at the house, so humour me.”
She gave a short, soundless laugh. “You’re so egotistical, Schuldig,” she chided. She looked at him, mildly amused. “You really do think you’ll survive this, don’t you? That’s why you want to know what I have planned.”
Schuldig opened his mouth to speak when Verena’s demeanour suddenly changed. She frowned and puzzlement flitted across her face. Then it seemed realization dawned. Fury burned in every feature of her face when she looked at him.
“Bastards,” she breathed.
Schuldig wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted this change in her mood but he decided it was time to finish up what he’d begun earlier get the hell out of Dodge.
Now Verena regained some of her supercilious composure. “No matter,” she sneered. “Your body may be safe, but it will be useless without the mind.”
So that was it, Schuldig thought. She was communicating with someone; someone who, he guessed, had told her that the physical assault on Schwartz had failed as badly as the psychological assault had.
“Something wrong?” he goaded.
Verena fixed him with a venomous gaze. “You can’t win,” she told him. “Schuldig. No matter what happens, you lose.”
As she spoke, he surreptitiously slipped two anchors into place; one he slid oh-so-gently into Verena’s Shields, the other into Stein’s mind. Then, without warning, he attacked Verena’s shields. He felt her surprise and heard her shriek in fury as he blasted free of their confines, but paid no attention. He knew she would drag her Shields back to herself. He was relying on it. He followed the anchor line he’d attached to her Shields, hoping it dragged him back to her mind and seeking to get inside before she closed against him.
But Verena was faster and Schuldig felt himself slam up against A-class shields. He knew he was beaten here and now scrambled for the other anchor he’d set in place.
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Dragon Cycle