Alexei tilted his head slightly to the side, looking out the window for moment longer before turning back to his son. He clasped his hands behind his back, smile turning to grin, teeth showing now.
“Hungarian, actually,” he said smoothly. “The unit’s leader, at least.“ Whether or not the skull-faced man was operating under American orders, Zero’s, or of his own volition, Alexei did not know. But he needed to get Adam away from here. As skilled as the youngest-ever Russian Major was, XOF had a distinctive advantage here.
Alexei did not feel fear at the thought of death—not usually. It was a natural, and supernatural, cycle. Man lived, man died, their body earthbound, but their spirit uncontained. But he felt an inkling of fear now, watching as his son prepared to evade death tonight. The Sorrow knew that his intervention here was inexcusable. He had done this, disrupted life’s natural ebb and flow, for personal, selfish reasons. But this was his son.
“You are no more important than any man,” he replied lightly. That was true, so long as he left off the ‘to me’ at the end of it. Man was man and spirit was spirit and everything carried equal weight in life and in death. “But, you have a mission to attend to, don’t you?”
“I am a terrible liar, I will admit,” he continued. But I am a wonderful omitter of truth.
he bits his lip at that news. hungarian. adam has no clue what they might be doing in the middle of all this, or even on the very outskirts; but for now he won’t argue. ghosts don’t say things just to say them. ghosts aren’t this direct for the purpose of misdirection. to serve those purposes, they keep to their riddles and half-truths. there is a pang in his side that tells him that he is being fed those HALF-TRUTHS right now, but adam’s not sure what to do with it, so he lets it throb.
he glances at the window, and then at the door. his bed is unmade and after years of that being the first thing he tends to upon waking up, ocelot is seized with the impulse to make it neat.〝a mission to attend to? i do,〞he digresses. it’s hard work to make this finely-tuned machine perform the way it’s supposed to, but he’s a hard worker for that reason. perhaps this spirit is too. the more he looks at him, the more adam notices similarities between them. the rise of their cheekbones, the shape of their jaw, the bridge of their noses. he notices them, but doesn’t think of it.
〝what do i need to do, oh spirit?〞he asks. there is still a light humor to his voice, but mostly he’s taking the other seriously now. there’s no harm in being safe. 〝leave the area, tell someone, keep quiet------ or am i gonna weave them into web itself?〞