"We don't know. That's the sad part," Natan said with a bitter smile. The expression on his face carried equal amounts of frustration and curiosity, which was unusual for someone who normally projected confidence. For a man who directed Europe's intelligence apparatus, not knowing something was a deeply uncomfortable feeling. The fact that an entire family could exist in the shadows of history and still evade modern intelligence networks was almost insulting to him. Yet every trail his agency followed seemed to vanish into thin air.
"Then where exactly did you get this information?" Herman asked, leaning back in his chair. His sharp eyes studied his son carefully, trying to determine how reliable the source might be. Information was only as valuable as the person who provided it, and rumors could easily become disasters when treated as facts. The current world was already unstable enough without intelligence officers chasing ghosts. If Natan was bringing this to him personally, however, then there had to be more behind the story.
"As you know, one of my subordinates maintains contact with one of the Great Houses," Natan replied. His voice carried a hint of disgust as he spoke the words. He hated the fact that influential families still maintained people within government institutions. The arrangement was technically tolerated, but that did not mean he had to like it. Every time he thought about it, he felt as though someone else's hand was resting on the steering wheel of his agency.
Herman merely shrugged at his son's frustration. "You need to learn to let it go," he said calmly. "Those houses haven't acted against Europe in generations. If anything, they've spent the last century fixing the damage caused by their mistakes." Unlike Natan, Herman had spent decades interacting with powerful factions, nobles, and hidden organizations. Experience had taught him that reality was often far more complicated than simple notions of good and evil.
"But why can't we do anything about them?" Natan demanded. "They control enormous amounts of wealth and influence. If the government truly wanted to, it could eliminate one of those houses." The thought had crossed his mind many times before. In theory, the combined resources of the European Union should have been enough to crush any private organization. Yet somehow nobody ever seriously pursued that option.
Herman's smile turned weary. "Yes, we could destroy one of them," he admitted. "The problem is what happens afterward." His gaze drifted toward the bunker wall as if he were looking far beyond it. "The next day every head of state in Europe would be under threat, our enemies would sense weakness, and our entire political structure would start to fracture." His voice remained calm, but the warning behind those words was impossible to miss.
Natan's face paled slightly. He had expected resistance, but not that level of certainty. His father rarely exaggerated threats, especially not matters involving national security. The confidence in Herman's voice suggested experience rather than speculation. That realization was far more unsettling than any dramatic prediction could have been.
"Surely it isn't that extreme," Natan said quietly. Even as he spoke, he found himself doubting the objection. Herman had navigated crises that most politicians never even learned about. If anyone understood the balance of power within Europe, it was him. Natan suddenly felt as though he had only been looking at the surface of a much deeper ocean.
"Before mana appeared, Europe could have survived the loss of every Great House," Herman explained. "What it could not survive was the chaos that would follow." He folded his hands together as he spoke. "The European Union exists because its members choose cooperation over conflict. Remove enough stabilizing forces, and old rivalries start looking attractive again." The statement sounded simple, but history provided more than enough examples to support it.
The older man continued before Natan could interrupt. Europe was ultimately a collection of nations with different priorities, economies, and ambitions. Disagreements were inevitable, and ambitious leaders occasionally pushed boundaries in search of greater influence. Under normal circumstances those tensions remained manageable. Without powerful organizations quietly encouraging stability, however, those cracks could quickly widen into fractures.
"The Great Houses want one thing above all else," Herman said. "Stability." He emphasized the word carefully. "They have survived wars, revolutions, and political upheavals. They understand how quickly civilization can collapse." That understanding had shaped their actions for generations. While many people viewed them as selfish elites, the reality was considerably more nuanced.
Natan frowned thoughtfully. "How do you know that?" he asked. "Even I don't have access to information like that." He regularly spoke with ministers, intelligence directors, and national leaders. None of them seemed particularly comfortable discussing the Great Houses. Most preferred to avoid the topic entirely.
"I learned it from Karl," Herman answered without hesitation. The response immediately caught Natan's attention. Karl Sonnenberg was not someone who offered opinions lightly. Every statement from the patriarch was usually based on centuries of accumulated experience and family records.
According to Karl, the Great Houses no longer felt attached to individual nations. They had simply existed for too long and watched too many borders change. Kingdoms rose and fell, governments transformed, and flags changed colors. Through all of it, one thing remained constant: Europe itself. That continent had become their true homeland, and they would protect it regardless of which government happened to be in power.
"Now tell me exactly what this source said about the assassin family," Herman said, steering the conversation back to the original topic. He had listened patiently, but speculation could only take them so far. Eventually facts needed to enter the discussion. The sooner he understood the situation, the sooner he could decide whether involvement was wise.
"Not much," Natan admitted. "That's the frustrating part." The report contained no family name, no confirmed location, and almost no verifiable details. All it claimed was that the family had always existed and that evidence supporting that claim supposedly existed somewhere. Such vague information would normally be dismissed immediately.
The message itself was even stranger. Apparently the family expected future cooperation with European authorities. Rather than approaching directly, however, they had chosen to let rumors spread through indirect channels. It was almost as though they wanted to be discovered while still maintaining plausible deniability.
Herman raised an eyebrow at that. "That's surprisingly bold," he remarked. Organizations that operated in secrecy usually preferred to remain invisible. Voluntarily drawing attention to themselves suggested either confidence or desperation. Neither possibility was particularly reassuring.
"The Great Houses delivered the message personally?" Herman asked. His expression grew more serious. That detail bothered him more than anything else. Those families rarely involved themselves in matters that provided no benefit. If they had chosen to act as intermediaries, then they were almost certainly pursuing their own objectives.
"That's what concerns me," Natan replied. "I can't figure out what they gain from it." He had spent days analyzing possibilities with his staff. Every theory led to more questions than answers. The lack of clear motives made the entire situation feel dangerous.
Herman nodded slowly. Years of experience told him that powerful groups never moved pieces on the board without a reason. The Great Houses understood politics better than most governments. If they were encouraging contact between the intelligence agency and a hidden family, there was undoubtedly a larger strategy involved.
"The source mentioned an old conflict," Natan continued. "Apparently the assassin family and the Great Houses fought each other at some point in history." Very few details accompanied the claim. The report simply suggested that neither side had achieved a decisive victory. Whatever happened had been significant enough to remain relevant centuries later.
That revelation immediately captured Herman's attention. Conflicts between organizations of that caliber were exceedingly rare. Most hidden powers preferred negotiation to open confrontation. If a battle had truly occurred, then the circumstances must have been extraordinary.
"All right," Herman finally said after a long silence. He reached for his phone and began scrolling through his contacts. "I'll write the recommendation letter." Natan's eyes lit up immediately, but Herman raised a finger before he could celebrate. "First I'm calling Karl. If we're stepping into something this old, I want answers before we move."
A relieved grin spread across Natan's face. The recommendation alone would open doors that intelligence credentials never could. More importantly, Karl was one of the few people alive who might actually know the truth. If anyone could shed light on the mystery, it would be the Sonnenberg patriarch.
"Thanks, Dad," Natan said sincerely. For once, his usual sarcasm disappeared completely. The investigation had reached a point where conventional methods no longer worked. Personal connections and old relationships were now more valuable than surveillance reports and databases.
Herman simply waved him off while dialing Karl's number. The intelligence agency already had a rough idea where the mysterious family might be located. Unfortunately, nobody trusted that information enough to send agents without preparation. Too many stories surrounded the family, and too many people who searched for them had seemingly vanished.
As the phone began ringing, both men understood that they were standing at the edge of something far older than either of them had expected. Whether the rumors proved true or not, the answers waiting on the other side promised to reshape their understanding of Europe's hidden history. And in a world transformed by mana, forgotten histories often turned out to be the most dangerous discoveries of all.