I rushed into my black Lamborghini, as Alphonse slid into the driver's seat almost effortlessly, the way I'd demanded he do it since I was a child.

"I told you it was time to go half an hour ago!" Alphonse cried as he started the ignition. "I really don't know how you'll succeed the Wright lineage, the way you're acting," he said, softer this time, as if he were talking to himself.

It was my fault, of course, but I wouldn't admit it. Father told me once that there are two things that Wrights do not do - admit one's mistakes, and to apologise, for these two are signs of weakness, which our world, our terrain, has no tolerance for.

The jalopy sped past expressway after expressway, as I hastily adjusted my tie, fiddled with my cufflinks, and slicked back my hair. My first day, and already I was making mistakes. Ten minutes to the time I was supposed to become a made man, and I was half an hour away from my destination.

My mind flashed to all the horror stories I'd gleaned from the butlers as a child, of people who were late for their induction as made men. Some had Father's hitmen attack them, others had the end sections of their little fingers cut off, a lucky few had cigars stubbed out on them. But all of these people still became members of the Dark, so in a way, my mind was put at ease.

At last, we arrived at Uncle Victor's turf, where the ceremony was held. Along with Uncle Nero, who was mildly amused, I met with the cold stare of my father.

"Virgil," Nero, the head of the Dark said, in an unusually calm tone for the given circumstances, "it appears Sebastian here, your son, has no sense of responsibility. Was this, Sebastian's making, not supposed to be the best day of your life? And Sebastian, was this not supposed to be the best day of yours?

"I remember, when I took you in, my right-hand man's son, as my apprentice, I saw great things in you. You seemed to possess the ability to pursue greatness, to carry on the name of the Wrights as the best henchmen the Dark, the world, has ever seen. To be late for your induction, why, your father," and here he pulled out a derringer, "could just die of disappointment at his only successor's failure to arrive and be made on time."

He cocked the gun and placed it at my father's temple. My pupils dilated as cold sweat trickled down my own temples, as the hitmen in the back sniggered somewhat. I'd lost all self control by then, and all I could do was to yell "NO!".

What happened after that was a blur. I only remember that the great heaping mass that was Nero toppled to the ground, knocking him out cold as he fell on the back on his head. I remember, too, that there was great pandemonium as the hitmen and all the other men present went delirious. To assault the Don... that was sheer madness. It could have spelled death.

But most of all, I remembered my father.

I remember his expressionless face when the gun was put to his head, his shock and anger when Nero fell, and the intense disappointment in his eyes, that gave him pain even to acknowledge me as his son, all of which culminated in the last two words he has ever said to me.

"Get out."

No, this was a nightmare, I thought. Disowning in our world was done only if I had committed the unforgivable. It was the greatest dishonour, and to be disowned was to say I could never return to our world, our house, ever again.

"Get out," he said, mildly exerting his vocal cords now.

I remained rooted, paralysed.

"GET OUT!" he hollered, exerting his diaphragm and using every last bit of strength he had.

Alphonse dragged me off in the end. He drove me home and handed me my things. "Sebastian... I'm sorry."

"It's not your sentence, Alphonse, it's mine. I'm sorry," I murmured, no longer a member of the Wrights.

"As is customary for the disowned, they are allowed one trip, to be sent off by their personal butlers to any place they so desire, as a final service. Where do you wish to go?"

I thought for a while, tearing somewhat at the prospect of even leaving home, and the books, the memories, Alphonse.

"Take me far away. Far away from here. Anywhere you please."

And at last, when I alighted, in the dead of night, on a seemingly endless beach, I looked up into the vast blue sky, uncertain and crestfallen, as I was to start life again all by myself.