Deep within France's wine country, there was a cottage that Ace had spotted from a mile away.
“It's getting close to 7; I can tell by the sun in the sky,” Ace whispered, pointing at the setting sun in the sky.
“How can you tell?” I asked.
“By the way the sun orbits the earth; trust me, I've been living a lot longer than you, so I know. And I taught myself how to do it,” he said.
We walked inside; it was cluttered with newspapers, and plain white sheets had covered each piece of furniture that was in the room.
“Is that what the council is?” I asked.
“Hm?” He had shot me a slightly confused gaze.
“Is the council the Immortalis?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered with a sigh.
“They have been spending nearly over 100 years searching for the last two members to join them, so they can take over and overthrow every governor, president and royal families that rule every country in the world.”