The Coming Dawn [Alastair, Helle]

Alastair found himself alone in the vast penthouse-office of the Grandmaster of the Vandenreich. It would be his office soon, he supposed, once all was settled and they had gone public with Cyrus’ decision to step down. He stood at one of the vast windows that would overlooked the sprawling cityscape below, though his gaze lingered upon the desk and the chair that sat behind it at the far side of the room. Try as he might, he could not yet envisage himself sitting there. Not in a way that felt official, anyway. Perhaps new furniture would change that, a fresh start for both their sakes.

There was more that burdened him than potential refurbishments though. The mantle of leadership had come alongside several other personal issues, not to mention that the state of the African peninsula still hung on a knife’s edge even after the latest string of victories. But they were all future concerns, first he needed to secure his foundations. Cyrus might have told the other Directors of the change but Alastair was still coming into the Inner Circle as the outsider. That was why he had requested a meeting with Director Armstrong first, not because she was the one whose response carried the most weight but rather because he expected her to be the most honest. Not to mention that if she, and by association the Sternritter, did not stand with him then everything would rapidly become much more difficult.

His injuries had all but completely healed from the last battle, his left arm regrown as if it had never been torn from his body by his opponent’s death throes. The doctors had recommended that he wear a cast and sling, to ensure that it took the proper shape, but Alastair had refused them. To be seen bandaged and broken was a sign of weakness and now the Vandenreich needed strength.

She's been invited. She must be dressed appropriately, her person dressed in an all too familiar outfit. This is something she appears before her men in: royal blues and golds intertwined perfectly. For a meeting such as this, she must make her position known.

Though, with the time she took to make sure her hair is perfection, she dallied none as her form took to the skies and sped through the City. Seconds went by before she found herself landing gently before the Vandenreich's headquarters. Memories came as she made her way inside and upstairs, details that are now missing from around her. How the times have changed.

However, somethings never change, and the red tuft of hair that met her visage as she stepped into the empty halls of the Grandmaster brought a small smirk to her face. Obviously, her presence was probably made known before she came inside, she was invited after all, but she made no noise or sound to announce herself, waiting for the pensive man to make his move.

Hers was a presence that spoke even without words, a silent sense of expectation that would likely linger for the duration of this conversation. But Alastair did not rush to fill the emptiness too hastily with an unwarranted overeagerness, offering Helle a simple nod instead as his rusty gaze appraised her. He had been proud to serve under her for all these years, he could not help but wonder if she would think the same. The distance between them that the room created with this absence of features only seemed to stretch as he made to face her properly, with no hint of a smile upon his lips.

"Thank you for coming, Director. Shall we?"

He turned abruptly and headed in the direction of the desk and chair that he could not quite equate. Rather than sit, though, he stood at the side of the chair and made clear the weight of his newfound position. A hand rested on the edge of the table, gloved digits flat against the surface.

"There is a change coming to the Vandenreich, and I do not mean that solely as a blunt metaphor for my appointment as Cyrus ast-Auramazda's successor. I will make that change a reality, but I want to know where we stand. In your own words, if you will."

"Stand?" She pondered, tilting her head at the silent grandiose.

Change. Change... Change...

Whatever could he mean? What of the Vandenreich requires change? Is it their power? That only comes with training. Is it their pull? Well, that's also another issue that is solved with more power. What of the atmosphere? She has not surveyed the city enough to properly speculate, but from what she has seen, people are in the dumps with the state of the world. There's nothing that can fix that outside of fixing the world, but that also requires power.

She looked upon him, emerald eyes nothing but curious astonishments. Look at him, power earned through strife. Maybe if she had proven stable, she'd have taken that chair as her own, but the fact he did not sit only brought a small smile to her face. Still the same courteous gentleman, eh? Nonetheless, she's been asked to create their bond. Are they friend or foe? Mentor and mentee? Leaders for a cause or enemies for change?

"Do tell, Grandmaster."

Alastair had wondered how she would interpret his question, deliberately broad with the intent of revealing perhaps just a little of what sat at the forefront of Helle's mind. There were many answers that he would have deemed beneficial, but turning it back to him was far from the optimal choice. Still, neutrality was not adversity.

"Where does the Vandenreich stand? The Sternritter fought extensively in Africa, myself along with them, but how do you think we fared? Would our lines have held if not for the intervention of the Gotei United?"

It was a pointed turn, so quickly diving into the heart of this issue, but that was why they were here and Alastair had never been the type to shy away from such things. He had been the diligent subordinate for most of his career, the bigger picture left to those with the vision to imagine it, so now he was playing catch-up quite aggressively.

"I cannot say I think so. We needed them, we needed their strength. So then we must change, for to stagnate is to yield what little position we have."

"I agree that we are far from able. Every conflict, we lose men, but even before we lost them, we lacked proper resources and power."

She frowned at her own accusation, the claim that they were always weak, and now they're weaker. As it stands, The Gotei does as it pleases while they try their best to keep up. It is not entirely an opinion of their opposing ideals, but it is simply an issue of respect.

"We would have lost. That is ascertain. I am sure the redheaded Captain, Miss Kishimoto, made that clear with her investment in our men. She knew we lacked and acted in what she deemed best for both organizations. Many of our men were unhappy with being sidelined, but they live today. They live to grow stronger."

Her emerald eyes narrowed as she folded her arms and put pressure on her waist. With a deep sigh, her gaze tilted off to the side.

"Something must change. All I ask is respect, but without the strength to warrant it, we must simply abide their decisions."

Alastair did not need to follow her gaze to sense her irritation, instead his eyes remained upon Helle as she expressed a viable concern and one that could not simply be dismissed with a wave of the hand and a few stern words. They were the ones playing second chair, trying to catch up to the Gotei’s rhythm, after all.

“Indeed, the issue of respect is one that we cannot overlook. We do not have the strength to overlook it, so the future must lie in cooperation and coordination. We may be lacking but we are far from helpless, and we have the vision to act in Earth’s best interests, by dealing with issues on a much more granular basis.”

With that, he dipped his toe into the water and sent out the first ripples. It was hardly a grand revelation of his new ideals for the Vandenreich en masse, but it hinted in the direction that he wanted to take. Many held reservations about working with the Gotei, often for all the heinous crimes that they had inflicted upon the Vandenreichs of the past, but Alastair wanted to establish that this was a different time.

“I have no delusions of misplaced pride, for if that is the sole price to pay to insure that there are fewer casualties the next time calamity strikes then I would pay it gladly, but it will not be me alone that has to shoulder such a burden. Would you do the same?”

"Before respect comes pride, Alastair," Helle snapped. "Before cooperation comes sustainability."

Her eyes turned to him as he suggested they work closer with the Gotei than at the arms length they have remained. It is true that the hostility between the two orgs bring nothing but issues, but Helle cannot look outward without herself being perfect. She sees no reason to outright refute the idea, but she cannot simply believe that being nicer will help the issue at hand.

"People will not buck against you because of your suggestion. They will buck because you lack faith in them. Pride is the foundation of any organization, Alastair, and without it, people will leave, people will search for something better, people will doubt."

She sighed, shaking her head.

"The Gotei will do what they want regardless of our cooperation, so there is no question about working with them. We have no choice as you said, but that is not what the people must hear."

"You should be vigilant not to confuse this alleged pride for hubris. I am not so naive as to think that this path of humility will appeal to everyone, after all. I have never hidden my intentions from you or anyone, Director, and I will not start doing so now. So I will answer any concerns or challenges to the best of my ability, but those that cannot accept change are not those that I would want to protect this world."

Therein lay the truth that burned behind those rusty eyes, the knowledge that Alastair was prepared to tear this whole house down if it was too broken to be salvaged. He had been given the tools to make his dream a reality, power that he had never expected nor even dared to wish for, but he would not let it make him complacent. Vastime, Lux Orior, and the Duvalier Group were gone. Countless countries sat now on the precipice of order and chaos. This was his time.

“I am proud to be a part of the Vandenreich, I have been ever since I enlisted, but it was not pride that carried me through the fires of war and countless battles since. The heart of this organisation, to me, has always been the hope for a brighter future. Now, as Grandmaster, it is my duty to reach for that hope.”

He wanted to see the spark of camaraderie in Helle’s eyes, to know in this moment that her heart beat in sync with his own, but he carried that hope for every person he met and few had ever shown it. He would do what he could to match her wisdom, but it was something he would never force upon anyone.

Her brow fell.

"Better a man to die by his pride than to be felled by his cowardice," She muttered, reciting a scripture she had read upon a time ago. "But, then they ask what is pride?"

His determined eyes stared into hers, emerald fields that feel endless. It is clear she did not particularly appreciate his comment about pride and hubris. Her strength is her pride after all, and if it be hubris that keeps her moving forward, then so be it.

"Hope will only get you so far, Grandmaster. I had hoped to recover one day, but there was no angel that descended and saved me. I fought tooth and nail for the me I wanted to be, and you've fought for the you you are now. I hold all my men to that standard now, to better themselves, not for some overlying goal, but because they have something to be proud about. If that desire is for a better future, then so be it."

She turned from him then.

"Change what you deem necessary. Eventually everything changes. I will continue working within my sphere to ensure the Vandenreich's success."