The Cullens' living room was quiet, too careful. Raizel sat still, eyes calm, giving nothing away. In truth, beneath that stillness, he was alert but almost fascinated. These were characters he'd once watched from a screen, but here, they were real: Carlisle, reserved but kind; Alice, guarded and sharp-eyed; Edward, stiff with a teenager's discomfort despite a century's age.
It was a strange thrill, seeing them alive, their "roles" inseparable from who they were. But he didn't let it show.
Across from him, the Cullens waited.
"Have you encountered those responsible for the attacks?" Raizel asked without any aloof.
Carlisle shook his head. "No. Only rumors. We haven't been involved."
Raizel studied the man's expression, the honesty, the worry for his family. He let a small nod acknowledge it. "Your eyes tell me enough."
He turned to Alice. "You saw me coming?"
Alice's nod was cautious.
He rose, already feeling the strangeness of the moment pass. It was just another room, just another meeting. "If you learn anything, inform Frankenstein."
Carlisle nodded, still formal. "Of course."
Raizel gave Esme a final glance who remain polite towards him later he turned and walked out, Frankenstein at his shoulder.
As they stepped into the cold night, Raizel kept his face calm. But behind the mask, a thousand thoughts gathered: how odd it was, being a stranger in a world he'd once known only as fiction. It was impossible to say which was more unsettling- the power at his fingertips, or the reality of these "fictional" lives.
The car was silent as they pulled away. Frankenstein drove, hands tense on the wheel. The wipers marked time.
Raizel let the silence stretch before he spoke. "You seem troubled."
Frankenstein's answer was measured, but not evasive. "You have changed, Master."
That was true.
Raizel stared out into the wet dark. He remembered nothing before waking in this world, nothing that belonged to Raizel except the body and the power. "Memories aren't always permanent," he said. It was the only truth he could risk.
Frankenstein didn't speak for a moment. The words landed harder than usual. Since his master's return, nothing had felt quite the same, there were gaps in memory, subtle shifts in tone and bearing, tiny unfamiliar gestures. The master he remembered had vanished for years, then appeared again with no explanation, speaking less, asking for less, never mentioning the reason for his absence.
Still, Frankenstein said, "I would serve you regardless."
Raizel glanced at him, uncertain if Frankenstein could see the uncertainty behind his eyes. "You hesitate."
Frankenstein's jaw tightened; the urge to ask about the long absence, about what had changed, about the cause of Raizel's sleep, all pressed against him but in the end, he said "Not hesitation, Master. Only a servant's worry."
Raizel nodded, careful not to let anything slip. "The past is gone. But I remain who I am."
For a moment, Frankenstein watched him, searching. The man beside him looked and sounded like Raizel. But sometimes, in the quiet, he seemed like a stranger. Frankenstein forced himself to accept it for now.
He exhaled. "Then I remain as well."
Raizel allowed himself a brief flicker of gratitude. It was real, at least.
They rode on in silence, the rain streaking the windows, the road leading forward- one man loyal to the end, the other haunted by the knowledge that even his own face was not truly his.