“I’m certain Sister Blanchett has her own experiences with the nonexistent, softer side of the Puppet Master,” Isaak replied, helping her to rise, pretending to not notice how cold her hands were. He could feel them through the gloves. “The boy wouldn’t be as dangerous if he didn’t regard Mein Herr as his personal god and saviour. It’s understandable after how he was treated as a child before we found him,” he mused absently, knowing fully well she had no background for them and that the idea of them as people disturbed her.

It was purposefully. He knew that the Duchess did not even see her own uncle as part of the Order, just a pawn, misguided by his own thirst of power but not a serious member. Yet he was.

If she really wanted to destroy the Order, Caterina should realize the best tactic was to strike human beings, not some giant monolith of united goals and brotherhood.

Slowly, he released her after she rose, his fingers lingering on her palm. Keeping a respectable distance, Isaak moved to her side to guide her in direction of the exit. After exiting, the Magician took a moment to chant and leave his monsters in charge of guarding his apartment.

Ignoring their furious growls, Isaak closed the door, locking and offered Caterina his arm. “Shall we?” He glanced at Tres, knowingly the cyborg would be startled at the threatening noises inside his home. “They won’t harm you or the Duchess of Milan. It is an anti-burglary precaution.”