Never. Never had he faced a problem that was so intriguing as this. A complication so sweet, so pleasant, that he started to wonder why he had placed it under the category ‘problem’ in the first place.
A smug smile tugged at Iorwerth’s lips as he opened the blue, glass door that led him to the first room of the building. Quickly, yet carefully, he closed the door and continued his way to the bedroom where he had been many times: Laurence’ room. It looked modern, somewhat futuristic, with glass furniture everywhere that somehow wasn’t able to break. A fresh scent of mint filled the room with the forbidden memories that were hidden in every corner.
Iorwerth placed himself on one of the azure coloured chairs and watched his friend’s chest go up and down as he slept. He listened to the rhythmic sounds of Laurence’ breathing while thinking things over once again. A future, a beautiful future, the only thing they longed for. A past is all they had. Both knew it was impossible to continue things like this.
Slowly Iorwerth opened the drawer next to Laurence’ bed and changed the medicine that were in it for some other that looked exactly the same. Without any sound he closed the drawer again, kissed Laurence on his head and returned to the door of the room.
“Sorry,” he whispered.

There he walked, the abstruse enigma, carrying the name Iorwerth Longues Caves. Blue eyes closed and hidden behind his dark hair that covered half of his face. In his pockets were his friend’s medicine, a gun and some extra chemicals he always carried along. A tall man he was, at only the age of 21. A black coat reached till his knees. His combination of dark clothes and hair made his white skin look even paler.
Iorwerth made his way to the train station where several taxis were waiting for some drunken customers that couldn’t find their home back alone anymore, a thing that happened every night in this city. Iorwerth needed a drink, or something else to make him forget about the feelings: his feelings of regret, anger, sadness. With a small hand gesture he demanded one of the taxi drivers to open the door for him.
“Bring me to Cyberia, please,” Iorwerth told the driver once he sat on his place. The engine started with a soft sound and they began their route to one of the largest clubs in town. The streets were crowded, even though it was past midnight. This was a city that never slept. Neon lights and large adverts flashed by as they finally drove somewhat faster, but Iorwerth wasn’t paying attention to any of them. His thoughts were by Laurence, who he had just left for good. He thought of his brother, Tidus, who would be mad if he heard about Laurence’ death. Laurence and Tidus had been best friends ever since they were small. And no, of course that wasn’t allowed. Tidus and Iorwerth had to work together to erase all evidence that this Laurence person was ever alive. That’s what assassins do. It’s their job. Everything started at the point where Tidus refused to kill his best friend and Iorwerth refused to agree with his brother. After that it went like some repeating process. Tidus and Laurence hung out somewhere, Laurence and Iorwerth played the ‘we-hate-each-other’-role and afterwards they met up somewhere where they could prove to each other they didn’t have any hate at all, leaving Tidus at home with a lame excuse.
It was complicated, but good. Very good.
“We’re here, sir,” the taxi driver said, waking Iorwerth from his thoughts. Iorwerth paid and continued to the entrance of his favourite nightclub: Cyberia.

Cyberia’s walls were mainly brown, black and ruby. Furniture and bars were designed in an old, Victorian way with some modern touch. Almost all people were dancing on the large dance floor in the middle of the old fashioned room. Iorwerth took a seat at the wooden bar and ordered himself vodka, when suddenly he noticed the familiar figure on the other side of the dance floor. The sad assassin grabbed his glass and walked towards the known person, but before he could react the person called for him.
“Iorwerth! How lovely to see you here!”
Iorwerth stared at Tidus, who was dancing with two other girls. Obviously they were all drunk.
“Tidus? What are you doing here for Christ’s sake? I thought you were at home.” The two brothers stared at each other for a few seconds before Tidus started to talk again.
“I thought you were at home too,” the alcohol made Tidus’ words sound somewhat odd. “Aren’t you working in your lab this night?”
This wasn’t going to work at all. Iorwerth took Tidus’ arm and dragged him outside, meanwhile calling another taxi with his mobile phone. Maybe it was time to sort things out.