14: PRELUDIUM
//
??? // ??? // ???
Featuring Parker, ???, ???, ???, ???, ???, ???, ???, and ???
//
It was quiet.
Every eye faced the center as the boss slowly spun around in the seat, the chair creaking and showing its age. The lantern by her feet being the only source of light. It was warm inside, the summer penetrating through the metal walls around. The only noise was from the agitated woman in the center, tapping her foot and slightly pushing against the ground to spin, the scar across her useless eye to her chin standing out even more than usual in the dim illumination. She had a grim visage and an eerie look on her pale face.
Her straight brown hair hung down and swayed in momentum as she stopped spinning to face the back of the huge place. Dust was everywhere, the warehouse had been abandoned for years already. Something scuttled across the ground and quickly disappeared.
Then she spoke, her head turning around to meet everyone’s waiting breaths.
“Spy has reported a 54.7% increase in demonic activity in the past week,” the woman noted everyone’s mixed reactions, some without any at all. Her piercing and discerning dark eyes lingered for a moment on a man with a black mask that covered only his eyes. Spy was unsmiling.
“And almost all of the activity is coming from one place.”
A couple people fidgeted nervously.
“That’s a suicide mission,” a man with a raspy voice spoke up to her right by a large shipping container, pointing out the obvious.
She turned again past the man, and then without even acknowledging him she stopped and lifted her chin to a pale boy sitting on a box of knick knacks, her fingers relaxed at her lips.
“Echo, status report on your mission.”
A voice of protest, bouncing around the warehouse’s dark corners, “Boss, he’s still a kid! You gave it to Echo?”
“Relax, Siren, they’re still dormant,” the boss sighed. “And he is the perfect one for the situation. Of course, more of you will be dispatched soon when the time comes.”
Another voice, the boy called Echo. “Threat level unknown. The security is far too high, there are eyes everywhere. And the other day, more people were brought in for also unknown reasons.”
“That’s disappointing,” she said vaguely and shook her head. Echo frowned, but said nothing. “Secondary objective?”
“Ah, you mean that one?” Trailblazer chuckled, oozing with fake sympathy. “Aw, that’s gotta be hell, mate, ain’t none dumb as bricks as your Target.”
“He’s refused twice now,” Echo sat completely still, but his eyes were pointed in Trailblazer’s direction. “Any developments on the… change, I asked for?”
Mortar on the other side of the room shook his head, a small head on a giant silhouette. “Kid, the woman’s not got much time to begin with,” his deep voice elicited some nods from a few others, “you already know that’s too far, even for us.”
Echo retorted, “It’s now, or it’s never! Target is going down the route of an Angel if we don’t do anything! If that woman goes in peace, then he loses a grandma, but if we spin that story and make it believable, I told you this before but he is an undeniable asset for us!”
“And that’s why you’re on the field, Echo,” the boss cooed. “We recognize it too. Isn’t that Artifact how I found you? On the bright side, yes, I do agree with you. Now, onto the new tasks I will assign today.”
Everyone’s faces darkened with her few words, now the mood was completely serious.
“Trailblazer,” she clicked her tongue, “you will aid Echo in the recruitment mission. Take care of the granny.”
The man cockily smiled, his darkened and burnt skin hushedly shining as he leaned forward into the light. “Copy that, boss. Can’t let the brat do it alone, eh? Gotta bring in the pro.”
She smiled wordlessly at him, and then turned around, bringing her leg up and over her other leg. “Mortar, Pixie, Bones, how’s your mission going?”
A tinkly noise of the little trinkets on the neck of a woman dolled and glammed in a disastrous outfit, like a fairy with a silver tiara and a pink tutu. The woman, a mute, puckered her huge lips together, sucking her white powdered cheeks in gauntly, and nodded.
“Good. Your next target will be the son of Wisconsin’s current senator, Jacob Rows, he is currently in incubation. Be quick.”
The clacking of a head cocking to the side, and the raspy voice of Bones, “Tell me, which demon plagues the child?”
“Ego.”
More clacking. “That is dangerous, indeed.”
“And finally,” she swept her hands out and turned her chair back to face the center, straight at Echo. “The rest of you, besides Spy, are headed to Maine. Two fallen angels, one of Betrayal and one of Wrath, are loose and somehow they have gone under the radar. Eliminate the threats. Everyone is dismissed.”
//
12:33 P.M. // 10 - 23 - 2023 // Arc - Cafeteria
Starring Zendolyn Ato
Featuring ???, ???, ???, ???, ???, Serene Goldwin and Reyenal Ato
//
The cafeteria bustled with noise and energy, the smell of good food wafting as I walked tiredly through the glass doors. Each table was filled with people lounging about, food on the plastic platter in front of them, the vibrant colors around, of food and pots and plants against the white ground and walls and booth walls, the giant windows letting in the sunlight from outside. The doors to the cafeteria stayed open from morning to night, for students to go in and out of the ever popular and inexpensive cafeteria.
However, there was far more to it than just cheap, because the cafeteria was far from cheap, a point for a meal. If one was willing to pay for a monthly meal plan, the cost would be far less than if they were to eat out at the mall every day, no matter how cheap the place was, for three meals a day, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The plans were 25 points for a regular school meal, 50 for better food cooked in-house, and 75 for free specials and drinks. An insanely good deal if one stuck to the meal plan to make their money’s worth.
Without thinking about leftovers, if a meal at the mall was only one point, even if that food was higher quality and better tasting, the price would add up to about 60 points a month, counting for a lunch and dinner per day.
I was doing the 50 point plan for this month, last month’s 25 point plan was and had the quality of what one would expect for an American cafeteria. If I had the option, I would never, ever, go back to American school slop ever again.
Plus, I had points to spend. Unlike most people who earned their points with the teachers naturally, I worked four hours a day, six on weekends, for 4 points an hour. I was willing to work for my food.
Lately, I had been working too hard.
The bags under my eyes left me no desire to have any social interactions today, so I made a beeline to the self order machines. Seeing the huge line at the one near the door I quickly made a u-turn for another machine, and to the next, and then gave up. Each ordering machine had insanely long lines behind them.
I sighed, stepping backwards to make way for two students crossing in front of me, and went to the back of the shortest line I saw, behind a relatively fit looking guy in a big white tee and jeans and notably with black-stemmed pink hair, at the end of the cafeteria where all of the old ladies in white chef hats were moving about, order after order and serving up platters efficiently.
Late again.
I leaned my right shoulder against the smooth and tiled wall, scooting along as the line moved, and a group of four guys loudly chattering behind me, the back of the line.
Zoning out, I drifted into my little headspace. The song I had been working on was far too nuanced for a relative beginner at the music software like me. I had an ear for music, a voice for singing, but definitely not an eye for catching kinks in the actual music assembly. Man, did I need to sleep.
As I lightly dozed with my eyes half open, I realized that all I could see in front of me was fake leather, the back of someone wearing a slicked brown jacket. I blinked. Was the guy in front of me always that tall? Did he put on a jacket? Did someone cut in front of me?
Turning my head around, I immediately understood what had happened. The four guys behind me had turned into three, and were snickering very loudly and openly to my irritation. Then suddenly an arm wrapped around my shoulder from behind to my surprise.
“Hey, shorty.”
“Oi, hands off!” I reactively tried to push his arm away, but the guy behind me in the leather jacket was much too large and strong.
The noise of talking and eating around me was far too loud for myself to be heard by anyone, and I doubt anyone would have even cared to begin with.
“****ing loser, weak **** can’t even do anything,” the guy with the lock over me tightened his hold, making my face scrunch in pain, and his friends erupted in even more amused laughter, mocking my attempt at freeing myself. It was starting to get suffocating, the smell of his pits at my head, mushing me with his strength and arms closing in around my neck.
“Haha, Kasper, do you really believe that rumor? About this kid? ****ing hell, he doesn’t even deserve to be here, bro,” one of the guys moved up closer and poked me in the forehead. All of them were at least a head taller than me.
“Ain’t no way, Ethan, this kid’s just an orphan, you gotta be deluded out of your mind to think a scrub like him could even hold a sword properly, let alone kill—”
“—and you know what the best ****ing part is?” The guy holding me, Ethan, interjected. I struggled more, but he only tightened his arm around me, and I was completely helpless. “Unawakened! Ha!”
The rounds of laughter echoed in the cafeteria, more so from the four laughing in my face, pointing and making a fool of me. Never had I been so humiliated before, never had something gone from a zero to such a painful ten, that I, someone who had spent a lot of time back in the real world doing self defense, couldn’t even pull some extra’s arm off of me.
“Tanya’s a crazy ***** if she told you that, man, she’s gotta see for herself what a ****ing loser and runt this little **** is,” the guy beside the one named Kyle pulled up his watch, his brown hair sheened in the sunlight from behind him. A gold chain hung around his neck and rested on his cut chest, bare against his rich fit.
“Nah, bro, you gotta call her,” Ethan guffawed, and I winced as the watch’s screen appeared, blank from my side. Was he going to take a photo of me?
Nuh uh.
“What the hell is wrong with you,” I snarled, “I said, hands off!”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Huh? Is the pipsqueak talking?” The third guy who hadn’t said a word the entire time ran his fingers through his slicked hair, his dark and handsome face contorting into disgust as he leaned in closer to me. I choked for breath as my throat was squeezed by Ethan, and then suddenly it felt like my hair and face was being pulled upwards by some sort of unknown force. “Brave of you to even be here, murderer. If I had it my way, you’d be dead on the side of the road by now.”
Murderer? What was this guy on about?!
“Woah, woah! Michael, you’re using your abilities on this guy?” Ethan loosened a little, but I still couldn’t do anything about it. My eyelids were being pulled wide open, my hair standing up like I had been shocked by lightning, my lips pulled up, nose flared, all to a painful degree.
I was completely powerless.
And then…
“Hey, you four, piss off,” a fifth voice came from the right, and though I couldn’t move my head I recognized the voice.
She was on my suspicious list.
“And who are… yo,” Kyle said slowly, his tone immediately changing to a neutral flatness, “let go of him, Ethan.”
All of the force pulling my eyes and hair up suddenly dropped, but it didn’t help that I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen.
“What’d you say?” Ethan yelled rambunctiously over the noise of the cafeteria, not noticing the change in mood. “Kyle speak up—”
“Let go, Kyle repeated himself warily.
Ethan’s pitch changed. “Yo! Are you siding with him? Where are you looking?” The guy turned me around with him to the right, and I laid my eyes upon a girl. Arbitrarily pretty was the best way to put it. She looked like a model ripped from a fashion magazine, her off-brown hair and judgemental eyes, a look of distaste on her face at what was happening in front of her. The girl in front of me was someone an author would describe as effortlessly beautiful, just shorts and a shirt and she still pulled it off so well.
“Michael?” The girl frowned, “Why are you here?”
“Serene! This is the ****** that killed—”
“Yeah, no, you go **** off, too. Ced trusted you, so I thought you were different, Michael, I didn’t know you believed rumors like that,” she shook her head. We stood there, dumbfounded. “Well? What do you think I said?!”
Serene Goldwin didn’t say much, but when she did there was meaning in her every word. That was one of the few things I wrote for her character.
Oh, and she was super wealthy. A recurring theme, for sure.
But for me, she was suspicious because she was angrier than I thought she would be.
And her gun, definitely her gun.
It didn’t take very long for the guys to leave, and as I almost collapsed against the wall Serene took her eyes off of me.
“Hi Serene,” the white-tee guy in front of me said nonchalantly as if nothing had happened, “took long enough.” The guy had a slight accent. Korean?
I tried to say, “Thanks for that—”
“That’s all you’re gonna say?” I flinched, and Serene smiled to my surprise, but she wasn’t talking to me. I leaned heavily into the wall to support myself, and breathed harshly. “Oh, and when you texted me, you didn’t tell me it would be Zen.”
“You really don’t believe the rumors? I texted you because he was here, so you could—”
“Stop, Jun,” she rolled her eyes, cutting in front of me to stand next to the guy, “you know well enough that I don’t care and I frankly don’t even believe it.”
Maybe it was a good thing that they were ignoring me.
Now that this Jun character was looking my way, or well, Serene’s way, I got a good look at his face. I had confirmed that Ced was one hundred percent her boyfriend. So who was this guy?
He was very good looking. Another recurring theme, for sure, for sure.
While I in the mirror thought myself to look somewhat like a popstar wannabe, this guy was the real deal. An idol-quality face, pink hair which he probably dyed, a dancer’s body, and a radiant smile. Real life people couldn’t be this good looking, it had to either have been my hormone-y teenage imagination, or I definitely was in some kind of toon or anime world.
So.
Who.
Was.
This.
Guy?
He turned back around away from Serene as we neared the front of the line. “Alright then. I’m probably getting the third special for today,” he pointed at the menu framed onto the wall.
The Arc website had the menu, too, and a very, very long one at that, with food from all around the world, though not at all luxurious or fancy, just quick things to make. Each month, they had a different special, or so I heard from a passerby. Specials were the only things in the cafeteria that costed points with the first and second plan, two points for any of the specials. The third special was jjajangmyeon, black bean noodles. Too heavy for my liking. I was probably going to get the pork tonkatsu again. Actually, maybe some soup for my throat. Ahh, I could make better soup at home… I wanted to go home, to the kitchen.
Yeesh, don’t think like that. I subconsciously scratched my head. That’s how all the isekais get sad. I dug through my head for more thoughts, and dredged one out. Isn’t the guy in front of me probably Korean? Koreans have good soup. I’m going to get a tofu soup. Do they even sell tofu soup?
“Hmm, actually? I’m gonna try the chicken bowl.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure those bowls are actually inspired from Chipotle,” Jun added brightly. “Have you ever been there?”
“Actually, I’ve wanted to for a while.” She shook her head, a little bummed. “Never had the chance.”
I raised my eyebrow. Wasn’t she filthy rich?
“The one here, I tried it yesterday.” Jun skipped past that. “It isn’t the real thing, not enough chicken to go along with everything. You know, I’ll take you there if we can get permission to leave.”
“Really? That sounds good.” Serene was quite agreeable, but now I was getting weirded out. Was he… asking her on a date? Was I just paranoid?
“Great! Oh, we’re here,” he punched in his ID into the little screen as the old lady stood there, a bored look on her face.
“What do you want?” The woman said sharply.
The two of them did their thing, walking away as their orders were taken, and I came up to take my order.
A couple of minutes later, I found a seat at a table by the windows and put my platter down carefully as to not spill the soup.
The only soup on the menu was chicken noodle soup.
As I sat down, my watch buzzed. Someone was calling me.
Oh, it was Reya.
I picked up the call. “Eh? What do you want?”
“Bro, your voice sounds kind of hoarse, are you good?” The audio was kind of rough, like she was jogging or something.
“Mhmm. Eating soup right now.”
“Cafeteria?”
I dipped the soup spoon in, and tested it. It tasted like what I expected. Just okay.
“Yeah.”
“I’m almost there.” She was definitely jogging.
“Huh? Okay, suit yourself.”
The call abruptly turned off, and I sighed slightly, then coughed. My throat still felt pressed, so I took another careful sip of the hot soup. A little sweet from the carrots, a little salty, melding with the flavors of the tender chicken cubes, crunch from the celery bits, I nodded my head and closed my eyes.
Later, with the new schedule change, I was going to attend a Refinement class for the first time. Other than my Music Compositions class as my elective, I only took the regular course.
Usually, students would join a club or the Awakening program in order to potentially boost their chances at Awakening or to explore their already existing skills. The previous schedule had the clubs at a later time in the day, and the program would take place at night time.
For the sake of the students, attending a club was required if one wasn’t already Awakened, however I and many other people had an excuse for not joining a club or the program.
We were minimum wage employees. For us, Arc made an exception.
Now, with the schedule changing to start the new Refinement classes in the middle of the day in tandem with clubs, most of which were still offered for later in the day, there were no more exceptions and excuses for the minimum wage employees.
We were required to take a Refinement class if we didn’t join a club.
So I ended up taking the class that was automatically recommended for me on the Arc app. Agent Preparations, taught by Professor Carmela.
I definitely needed this chicken soup.
My train of thought was interrupted as someone sat in the seat across from me.
“Hi, Reya.”
She was a little sweaty, and swept her arm across her forehead, brushing her paint-dipped hair aside. Reya glanced around, as if scanning the area for nearby people, and seeing that most were already leaving she returned her focus to me.
“Hey. Did you hear the rumors about you?”
I coughed on my soup.
A moment later, I shook my head.
“No. Well, yes. Kind of. They’re nothing new, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Well, no ****, Sherlock, but apparently, Zen is a murderer.”
I choked again. “Leave the bombs out while I’m eating my soup!”
She went on. “Here’s something you probably didn’t know, but that ‘main character’ guy you texted me about—”
“—yeah, Cedrance?”
“Shut up. I don’t know where it came from, but Zen killed Cedrance’s parents, and that’s part of the reason why that guy hates my guts. But then, at the same time, none of the kids that randomly come to talk to me believe this rumor, granted the ones who talk to me about this are rich kids with an agenda.”
“Yeah? And? Why don’t they think so?” This was getting interesting. I was piecing things together, slowly.
“Here’s another thing you probably didn’t know about. You know on that first day, I used a Memory?”
This was some news. She was finally going to tell me, after my whole month of hounding her.
“Well, I accidentally almost killed you in one hit. I mean, Reya and Zen.”
My eyebrow raised, but I only nodded understandingly. “Well, Zen is really frail. I literally can’t do anything at the gym without dying for breath.”
“Which also means that all the rich kids at that event in the Memory know that you probably aren’t capable of killing anything, much less anyone.” Did she even hear what I said? Literally anyone who noticed me in the gym would have seen my dying.
“That’s insulting.”
Then she asked a weird question. “Has Cedrance ever seen you at the gym?”
Okay, she did hear me.
I thought for a little moment, a little confused. I thought about telling her that he was in the room beside me even though he was practically swimming in points, but then decided not to. That would only confuse her even more, and it looked like she was onto something. I trusted her to tell me about it when the time was right, and I too would do so. And I wouldn’t pry.
“Not that I remember, no.”
And then I became even more confused as I realized something. That night, when Cedrance was at my door, he was angry at me, but I didn’t suspect it for any other contextual reason than I was being a loud nuisance. But then he also seemed to hold back a more personal anger. Something about always pretending, he seemed to sort of know Zendolyn on a higher level than one would regularly know a friend.
Now, Reya told me that people thought I was the reason for why he became an orphan.
The thing was, Cedrance’s whole conception was one who wasn’t prone to anger. That was his cliché, which developed further into more and more clichés than I could ever think of putting together after getting to see him around the school occasionally for a month. The top celebrated freshman of the year, proficient in everything, the best of the best, with a tragic backstory, an orphan taken in by his best friend, and as a side note, very attractive.
So, why did he calm down so fast after I put on the waterworks? Why does he hate Reya? Is she truly just a rival, or the sister of his parent’s murderer? Did Zen actually murder his parents?
How does he know Zendolyn was a pretender?
I should have been questioning this from the start.
What was really going on?
//
1:24 P.M. // 10 - 18 - 2023 // Arc - Club Center, Sewing Room
Starring Gwen Olynn
//
Finally, a spark of motivation! My fingers quickly pulled in and out, looping the needle back through and twisting it and pulling again. The repetitive motion brought its way down to the edge, where I closed it in with other braids of string around it.
I stopped for a moment to inspect my work, and smiled proudly at the little formation of an octopus hat. It was just the front half, but the color was turning out to be a nice combination of red and purple.
“Lull-ahh-bye… dream, in, mind… world, of, mine…”
I turned my head, distracted by the girl beside me using the sewing machine. She hummed an enchanting song, one I knew far too well. It was all over my recommended page, the music of Visionaire, his song Lullaby. Maybe she was humming before, but I had been far too engaged in making the octopus hat.
She mutter-sang prettily, some of the other girls around echoing her though few in the room, also distracted but not so angry. They were all probably suffering from severe boredom, what used to be study hall time was now more dedicated to helping us Awaken.
But unlike them, I was driven by purpose. Not Awakening, though it would be convenient and a definite plus.
Before I woke up in this world, sewing was definitely one of my fortes. I had a lot of practice making clothes, but a little octo-beanie was a first for me. I pulled up my screen again for the instructions, then returned back to my work.
“The blue bird will soon break, for now it flies away. To clouds who hear its name, the blue bird soars away, in the chase… of freedom! Hear the song, of the blue bird, the lull-ahh-bye, in this fa-iry-tale…”