"Don't lie." Howard gave her a look. For a single agonizing moment, it was as if the admin saw through her deception. Her natural tendency to lie had become so constant a blanket that imagining someone seeing her without it seemed impossible.

Yet if there was someone who didn't know Elisabeth Fiorelli that would crack that code, it as Howard Slayte.

"Kyle wouldn't give a shit if I had that mug. He probably has a thousand more in his garage." The admin's eye flashed with annoyance at being treated like a child. "Please do not deride me. You are my superior, not my mother."

The tense moment passed. He had not noticed the betrayal. A strike at the heart that had not been required, yet had been struck anyway. Elisabeth Fiorelli was truly vile.

Truly human.

"He will not be forgotten because I will not will him to be. Yet he is one of the few people in this region who does not need my help. Hoenn will chronicle him well. Of that, I have no doubts." Howard rose and nodded, as if he had the right to dismiss an underboss. "But you are not replaceable. Not yet. You still owe me a story, remember?"

A distant promise, made long ago. The admin plucked the signed paper from his desk.

"I must depart for Dewford soon to capitalize on the blow you've dealt. Can you take this to BARNABY FINCH for me? He never seems to be around when I need him. Maybe you'll have more luck."

The irony.

---

Elisabeth Fiorelli

"I don't believe, I know." The admin shrugged. It was not meant as an insult. "There is no shame to that. Lying is nothing more than verbal calligraphy, and I find that you excel at that. Lying is little harder."

Such a shame that such beautiful handwriting belong to such a vindictive woman. He supposed it was normal for members of Rocket to have artistic hobbies. Howard's was collecting funeral urns, after all.

"Underboss Fiorelli, I serve at your behest. I am your subordinate, after all." The admin sniffed once. "Though I feel like an ATM machine more often than not."

He wondered if Elisabeth even knew what that was. Probably not, given her attitude on handling the holiday party.

"Tell him that he's doing my paperwork while I'm doing my thing. He owes me for the birdwatching incident." His eye gleamed as he noted her choice of words. Barnaby and Elisabeth, sitting in a tree?

Unlikely. Barnaby was a slacker.

"I'll have to see what the sheriff's reaction to your gift was while I'm there."

Michael Navidson .

---

Elisabeth Fiorelli

How she squirmed when confronted with the emotion of love. How childish she was when things she cared about were threatened.

If Howard was half as wise as BARNABY FINCH , he would've found a way to leverage that against the underboss. There was no need to do so. Howard tried to avoid treading on his betters. Life was hard enough, and Elisabeth Fiorelli was cunning enough to make his life quite miserable indeed.

"Did I insult you? I apologize." The admin nodded respectfully, before letting himself smile as the underboss turned away. After she paused, her tone gave her away. Like a beast exposing its belly, she prostrated herself before him through dialogue. "Not to worry. You've only gone and killed his best friend. I'm sure it won't be an issue."

He knew the words would make her squirm. Still, he waited for the underboss to leave. Gentle caresses and murmured words from Admin Bee were vastly preferable to having Michael Navidson as an enemy.

When the door shut, he was left with silence and the ghosts of the admins that came before. He wondered if his predecessors had wrestled with treason before. Remiel Calcifet , most likely. Yet Remiel's ghost could not hurt him here.

"Thank you for the lesson, Elisabeth." Howard asked as he walked around his desk to pluck Priam's Regi Statue from its perch. "Thanks for teaching me how to do what must be done."

What had Elisabeth said? I let him believe what he wanted to believe? A good piece of advice. The font from which all deception pooled from was only as alluring as one allowed it to be. It was easier to swallow a sweet lie than a bitter truth. The harder it was to strive for, the less likely a historian was to verify something.

Long ago, when Cillian Quinn and Priam discovered the Regi Statue, only one eye had been lit. Now, all five gleamed with light. A gleaming Wishing Star sat twinkling next to the small statue.

If MATIAS SILPH could be deceived, than so too could Michael Navidson. This had to be done. Navy would never agree to his plan. In order to bring down a god, you needed to harness its power. If the other Legendary Giants would not assemble, he'd simply strengthen the one he had currently.

Then, he could capture them one by one. The accumulation of Hoenn's legacy, unified at last.

Betrayal in exchange for might. How his colleagues would cheer this skin-deep change. He should've been brimming with excitement, yet all the admin could feel was a weary trepidation. 

"Checkmate." The statue fell over with a thud.

---

Elisabeth Fiorelli