The possessed Federica relished in the chaos she had unleashed, her laughter echoing amid the charred remains of onlookers and press. Azure flames danced amongst the destruction, sparing none. As the smoke cleared, it revealed that Richard and Captain Connors had been protected by Angela's ward, showing signs of strain.
The possessed Federica relentlessly pelted flaming Aether balls at Angela's ward, taunting, "I can last for an eternity, can you?"
Angela, visibly overchanneling, showed signs of distress. Blood streamed from her nose, her body temperature skyrocketing, and Ley lines within her burned, causing excruciating pain.
"Detective, it's an order—stop overchanneling now," Connors commanded, his face tense.
"With all due respect, if I hadn't overchanneled this spell, we would be dead by now," Angela retorted, grappling with the relentless onslaught.
A sudden distraction emerged—an opening in the sky, releasing a helicopter. Onboard, a man in a suit wove intricate symbols with his hands, casting a spell, "reverte ad pulverem." The man shot a beam of Aether, caught by the possessed Federica, who encircled it with ten arcane circles.
"You're joking," Angela muttered in horror.
The possessed Federica enhanced the beam and sent it back at the man and the entire helicopter, turning them into dust.
"BLAST, shouldn't have done that, got carried away," the possessed Federica remarked. A loud blare of trumpets resonated from the sky repeatedly, like a warning. She conjured seven arcane circles, and abruptly as she appeared, she vanished.
Angela released her ward and collapsed on the floor. Richard and Captain Connors rushed to check on her. Richard called for more ambulances, but apart from Angela, none could be saved—their existence reduced to ashes in the aftermath of the supernatural onslaught.
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Amidst the vibrant, infernal plane where fire, ash, scorching brimstone, sizzling sulfur, and molten magma intertwined, the sky hung heavy with ash clouds that appeared almost sentient. Phoenixes, salamanders, fire dragons, and other infernal fauna adorned the landscape like living embers. Perched atop a burning brass mountain, Solomon Blaze, donned in a suit adorned with protective runes, immersed himself in research. He diligently transcribed notes into a rune-covered book, his focus unbroken. By his side, Tsubaki, an assistant, fidgeted with what seemed to be a rune-covered scanner.
After a dedicated session of study, they retreated to a small, rune-covered metal cabin, its interior resembling more of a laboratory than a living space, with two beds and a bathroom but devoid of any kitchen amenities. Solomon, shedding the runic suit, casually approached a cabinet.
"Are you hungry?" he asked Tsubaki in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Yes," she replied.
Solomon retrieved two potions from the cabinet, handing one to Tsubaki. As the elixir flowed, they felt their hunger fade. Tsubaki, with an impatient edge, asked, "How much longer?"
"Let's give it another week. Don't worry; this data is worth collecting," Solomon reassured her, his composure unwavering.
"I still don’t see the application. What is the point of observing time dilation between realms when they are always random?" Tsubaki inquired.
"That’s because you don’t do much planar travel. Let me ask you, how long have we been here?" Solomon inquired.
"Four weeks," Tsubaki answered.
"Yes, but when we get back, four days might have gone by, or four years, or four seconds. Nobody knows why. The other planes have a wealth of resources, but everyone is always too scared to enter them due to this fact. So, figure out the problem and make millions," Solomon explained confidently.
"For the time being I’ve been able to make semi accurate predictions this was all in the job description, didn’t you read it?" asked Solomon.
"Hmm, I skimmed it. You offered a lot of cash, and I kinda needed to get away for a while," she said flippantly.
Solomon's runic phone buzzed with an alert. He gazed at his phone; an intruder alert flashed on the house’s security system. Solomon stared blankly at the device.
"What’s wrong?" asked Tsubaki.
"It seems that someone broke into my house. My son should be able to deal with it," he said without worry.
" Are you kidding? What if he can't? That's your son," said Tsubaki, perplexed by his nonchalance.
Solomon sighed. "Don't have kids. They're more trouble than they're worth. Fine, we'll stay three more days then go. With time dilation, it doesn’t really matter when we leave," said Solomon as he went to his computer, staring at the screen while digitizing his research.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/23HtTxw/9ed00eb4-f579-46f1-b7c4-308a77623f04.jpg]
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Diana stepped out of the ambulance, a sense of urgency gripping her as she tried to reach her captain and colleagues, only to be met with silence on the other end. In a moment of determination, she retrieved her phone, bringing up a picture of Richard. A small mirror emerged from her back pocket, and with a quiet incantation, she spoke the words, "Specula illos." the mirror shimmered with enchantment, revealing Richard at the crime scene, making a call. Captain Connors was nearby, attempting to stabilize the visibly injured Angela, surrounded by a desolate landscape of ashes and utter destruction.
A heavy breath escaped Diana's lips as fear etched itself across her face. She knew the situation was dire and time was of the essence, so when she spotted an ambulance rushing out of the hospital, likely in response to Richard’s call, she swiftly made arrangements for a squad car to pick her up.
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A spectral presence moved stealthily through the halls of the mansion, weaving amidst the eerie remnants of fallen students. Its ethereal gaze captured the horrifying scene of Josh and Tim being consumed by the emaciated demon—a grotesque spectacle. Swiftly, the observer descended the stairs, witnessing the mangled form of Cynthia reaching the basement bunker, leaving onlookers in shock. It continued its intangible journey through the corridors until it settled on Sir Crowley and a blurred specter. Sir Crowley, aware of the unseen observer, directed his gaze toward it.
"It is deemed impolite to survey one without heralding one's arrival. Might my newfound companion and I be granted a modicum of privacy? Away with you!" Sir Crowley declared.
Sir Crowley abruptly severed the connection, and Thomas, who had initiated the spell, grimaced in pain. Blood streamed from his nose, a consequence of the advanced spellcasting. The unexpected interruption by Sir Crowley added to the strain, leaving Thomas disoriented and nauseous.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/cwhjJFf/4c145736-9b73-49b8-821c-e8c80f626fc4.jpg]
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“Not cool dude,” Thomas lamented as he struggled to regain composure.
Turning his attention to Marcus and Roseanne, both unconscious, Thomas leaned down and smacked Marcus across the face.
“Wake up, I'm not carrying you,” Thomas stated.
Marcus, roused from his stupor, retorted with a grumbled, “Asshole.”
“Dude, I saved your life. If you can call me names, that means you can walk on your own,” Thomas asserted.
Attempting to stand, Marcus found the task daunting, his vitality drained. Meanwhile, Thomas prodded Roseanne’s burnt arm to wake her up. She screamed in pain and swung at him, but Thomas had anticipated the reaction, evading the hit with a deft lean.
“What the hell is wrong with you!?” screamed Roseanne.
“It all started when I was born, but that’s a story for another time. I found the basement, but we’re gonna have to take a detour,” Thomas explained.
“Why?” questioned Marcus and Roseanne, their tones accusatory.
“Yeah, you know what? Sure, don’t listen to the guy that has more experience than you, has saved your asses and put his on the line for it. Don’t follow me if you don’t want to; I don’t care anymore,” Thomas declared firmly, before walking away.
A slight sense of guilt passed between Marcus and Roseanne as they exchanged glances, and reluctantly, they followed Thomas, who wore a sly smile while leading the way.
Carefully navigating the halls bathed in crimson light, Marcus's curiosity got the better of him.
"So, what are you doing here anyway? I don't remember you being invited," he questioned.
"Yeah, creep," added Roseanne.
"Gods above, you guys are so ungrateful. If you gotta know, I got kicked out of my party and knew there'd be free booze here, but I definitely did not sign up for this," Thomas explained.
"What did you do?" inquired Roseanne in her typical accusatory tone.
"Some people really take offense to having their minds read," Thomas replied flippantly.
"I knew it, creep. The sunglasses indoors give you away," said Roseanne.
"Hey, this is more than just sun-," Thomas stopped and signaled the others to halt.
"Sorry, guys, but there won't be a detour. Stay behind me, because I said so," asserted Thomas.
Taken aback, Roseanne was about to question why, but Thomas responded before she could utter a word. Was he reading her mind?
"Hey, dude, get ready. Tuts, get in the back. I'm serious; you're gonna slow us down," warned Thomas.
Furious, Roseanne took a few steps back, as she clenched her fists, he was right.
Marcus prepared to cast.
"Try to use ice and winds evocation if you can. Light would be awesome if you're able," advised Thomas as he brandished his golden chain.
"Gonna have to settle for ice and wind," replied Marcus.
The faint sound of blades scraping on the floor grew ominously louder, the menace drawing near.
"Glacies illum includat," as Marcus prepared to cast, he conjured a ball of frost, ready to unleash it.
The menacing silhouette of the emaciated demon loomed in the distance; its aura further intensified by the crimson lighting. The demon abruptly halted its advance, freezing in place. Thomas’s face drained of color as he swiftly kicked Marcus away from him. In the next instant, the demon's spear-like claws occupied the space where Marcus would have been – its speed was uncanny. Thomas attempted to whip it with his chain, but to no avail; the demon vaulted and sidestepped, showcasing its remarkable agility. Realizing that the fiend's swiftness made ending the fight challenging, Thomas jerked and spun the chain, letting it coil around his right arm. With a wide flaming swing, he tried to strike the demon, but it evaded the attack and impaled his arm with its claws. Thomas gritted his teeth and, using his left arm, drew his rune-covered knife, stabbing the demon in the ribs and turning it into stone.
Roseanne stood paralyzed, shock coursing through her as she struggled to process the rapid sequence of events. Meanwhile, Marcus, regaining composure after the forceful impact of Thomas's kick, could only watch as the demon was now petrified, its claws firmly embedded in Thomas's right arm.
“FUUUCKK THAT HURTS!” howled Thomas in agony.
He sucked in deep breaths, attempting to stifle the searing pain.
“OKAY, DUDE, FREEZE IT OFF!” Thomas bellowed in urgency.
Marcus’s eyes widened in sheer horror. “What!?” he exclaimed.
“I... I can’t get it out. Even if I do, I'll lose too much blood. Freeze it OFF,” Thomas said through immense pain.
“Fuck, glacies illum includat,” Marcus incanted, covering Thomas’s arm in ice.
Thomas gritted his teeth, determined to endure the excruciating agony as the frost burned his nerves. “Okay, now help me pull,” he instructed.
Marcus positioned himself behind Thomas, as they attempted to pull Thomas away from the demon's clutches. Slowly, his arm started to crack.
“Rosy, a little help,” Marcus called out.
Breaking from her reverie, Roseanne joined them. Together, they strained and heaved Thomas from the demon's petrified clutches, the sound of a resounding snap accompanying their efforts as they all fell over.
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In the master bedroom, Jenkins busily unloaded various runic items he had discovered in the walk-in closet onto the duvet. Gathering the four corners of the duvet, he ingeniously fashioned a makeshift bag. Humming a jovial tune, he sauntered out of the bedroom, the runic treasures now in tow.
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In the dimly lit bunker, Cynthia lay sprawled across Kyle's lap, her breathing heavy, gaze fixed on the ceiling. Alice, filled with urgency, shook Penelope from her slumber.
"Please, wake up. Cynthia’s gonna die," Alice urgently pleaded, her eyes reflecting the fear that gripped her.
Penelope stirred groggily from sleep; confusion evident on her face. "What? What happened?" she mumbled.
"It’s Cynthia," Alice responded, the fear in her voice palpable.
Penelope's gaze shifted to Cynthia's mangled form. Despite knowing her healing abilities might fall short, she reached out to help.
"claudere vulnus eorum," Penelope chanted, a gentle light emanating from her hands, attempting to mend Cynthia's wounds. Dishearteningly, the spell proved futile. About to cast a more potent spell, Cynthia gently grasped her hand.
"Penny, I’m sorry," Cynthia offered an apologetic murmur, tears welling in her eyes.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/pwKf04X/791c2ccb-fc02-4439-98ba-22830d443cd8.jpg]
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Penelope's emotions spilled over, tears streaming down her face as she felt the weight of helplessness. This situation echoed the loss of her father.
"Hey, Kyle, look at that, I’m crying. Father would be proud," Cynthia managed a strained smile, the effort etched across her face.
Kyle, haunted by memories of Amber's demise, felt paralyzed and unable to offer solace.
Cynthia shifted her gaze to Erick. "Did you see Fed-," Erick started, only to be cut off.
"She's possessed, I’m sorry," Cynthia disclosed, her words hanging heavily in the air.
"Wow, two sorrys in one day. What happened out there?" Erick attempted to lighten the mood, desperate to alleviate the somber atmosphere.
Erick absorbed the revelation, drawing connections from the fragments of knowledge gleaned from his father's library, he knew demons could only possess the living. The unsettling reality sank in.
"Hey, Kyle, I haven’t seen Amber," Cynthia mentioned.
Kyle struggled to find words, grappling with the harsh truth.
"I see. I just need to shut my eyes for a bit now. Erick, sorry to put this all on you," Cynthia murmured, closing her eyes in weary resignation.
Profound silence descended upon the room, heavy with grief and uncertainty, as the group confronted the harsh reality of their circumstances.
The bunker's door creaked open slowly, causing Cynthia to awaken. All eyes turned towards the entrance, and the anticipation of the visitor lingered in the air. Erick, however, seemed to sense who it was before anyone spoke.
"Come on, you heavy bastard," Marcus grunted, appearing at the door with Thomas and Roseanne. Their figures leaned on each other for support, exhaustion evident in every step.
"Thomas?" Kyle exclaimed in shock.
"Hey, bro, how they hanging?" Thomas replied, attempting to maintain a nonchalant demeanor despite his evident injuries.
The trio crumpled to the floor in sheer exhaustion, prompting Penelope hurried to their side, wiping away tears. As she assessed their injuries, she realized the limitations of her healing abilities. Burns adorned Roseanne, Thomas suffered the loss of an arm with frostbite, and in addition to visible wounds, Marcus harbored a deeper affliction.
"Diagnostica," Penelope chanted, unveiling the extent of Marcus's condition.
"I'm fine," Marcus insisted.
"No, you're not. Your back is bleeding, and parts of your soul are missing," Penelope asserted with desperation.
"Oh shit, that's tough," Marcus muttered, grasping the gravity of the situation.
Penelope closed the wound on Marcus's back, pondering the delicate task of restoring his soul. Uncertain of the potential consequences, she hesitated, contemplating the reactions of the others and deciding not to.
Thomas approached Kyle, offering a casual greeting. "Hey, bro. Wow, Cyn, you look like shit."
Cynthia shot back, "Same to you."
Concern etched Kyle's face as he questioned, "What happened to your arm?"
"Well, it all started when I got kicked out of my party, but that’s a story for another time," Thomas replied nonchalantly.
Roseanne, having endured the exhaustion, staggered to a bed and displaced its occupant before collapsing. Erick, worried, asked about Josh and Jenkins.
"Oh shit, somehow I completely forgot about those guys," Marcus admitted, realization dawning on him.
"Fuck," Erick echoed, the precarious situation escalating with every passing moment.
Marcus's eyes fixated on Cynthia's battered form.
"What happened to her?" he inquired.
"Don't know, she came here like this," Erick explained.
"So, you mean we went through all that for nothing?" Marcus expressed his frustration.
Before the tension could escalate further, Jenkins strolled in, seemingly untouched by the chaos outside.
"Yo, yo, yo, what’s up party people! You really shouldn’t leave the bunker door open," Jenkins greeted with a smile as he closed the door behind him.
The shock of seeing Jenkins alive and well resonated through the bunker.
"You’re alive!?" Marcus and Cynthia exclaimed simultaneously.
"Yeah, don’t act so surprised. Y’all either look like shit or are depressed as fuck. Come on, lighten up, people, I’m alive," Jenkins declared nonchalantly.
"And Josh?" Erick inquired.
"Oh, fuck that guy. He left me to die," Jenkins dismissed.
"Has anyone seen Tim?" Alice asked, but nobody had seen him.
"Hey, where’s the hot chick?" Jenkins asked.
"Oh bro, she was a demon," Marcus revealed.
"Shit. Anyway, came back with some loot," Jenkins announced, dropping a makeshift bag of runic items.
"You mean my dad’s stuff," Erick remarked as they sifted through the runic items.
Cynthia queried, "So you really didn’t run into any demons?"
"Nope, just a ghost. It was that chick that got moved up to our class, you know, your friend," Jenkins explained as he prepared to take a seat.
Kyle's heart plummeted. "You mean Amb-"
He was abruptly cut off as the bunker door swung wide open, revealing the archdemon Sir Crowley de Moniac.
"Hail, progeny of the arcane! Worry not, for I come to offer my benevolent aid unto you," proclaimed Sir Crowley.
Erick, Jenkins, Marcus, Alexander, and Leah, all readied themselves to cast in response to the intruder. The violent swing of the door rousing everyone who was slumbering, including Roseanne. However, two people knew better.
“STOP!” Cynthia and Thomas exclaimed simultaneously, causing everyone to pause.
"Prudence dictates that you heed the counsel of the seer and simulacrum. The latter of which I extend my apologies for my prior indiscretion, and now perceive that your presence could be of great utility to me,” uttered Sir Crowley.
“Who are you?” asked Erick with a great degree of caution.
"My sincerest apologies for the belated introduction. I am Sir Crowley de Moniac, shvur-zeeler and arch-demon. This feline companion by my side is Bastet. May I inquire as to your identity, beyond being a progeny of the arcane, of course?" intoned Sir Crowley as his cat materialized, seemingly from the shadows.
Shvur-zeeler; again, his father’s library had equipped him with the knowledge of what that meant.
“Erick Blaze, this is my house. Someone as polite and well-mannered as you surely wouldn’t want to trespass on someone's property,” asserted Erick.
“Ah, you are the proprietor of this magnificent abode, a true work of art. I extend my sincerest apologies for the inadvertent trespass, but my sole intention is to offer assistance. Too many budding mages have met untimely ends, and it is time to cease this senseless destruction. I propose to lend my aid; I can facilitate your return to the realm from whence you came,” said Sir Crowley.
“What’s he on about?” murmured Jenkins to Marcus.
“Shh, I’m trynna pay attention,” whispered Marcus.
“Yes, please send us-" Penelope attempted to speak, but Erick cut her off.
“Silencio,” incanted Erick, as Penelope suddenly lost her voice.
“Sorry Penny, it’s for your own good, everyone get ready," Erick's voice resonated with a mix of determination and caution as he extracted a golden runic dagger from the bag. Its surface radiated a faint, ethereal glow, signifying its divine properties. Jenkins, Marcus, Alexander, Leah, Alice, Thomas, and Roseanne each assumed their designated positions, their expressions a blend of anticipation and readiness.
Sir Crowley, unperturbed by the preparations, observed with an air of bemusement. Bastet, his feline companion, purred softly, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that enveloped the bunker.
"This is a bad idea," commented Thomas, voicing his reservations.
"Most sagacious indeed, you possess a keen understanding of the workings of my ilk, and your soul exudes the essence of the sovereign—truly splendid. Do you harbor aspirations to vanquish me?" Sir Crowley questioned.
Erick subtly gestured with his hand, granting Penelope the ability to speak once more as he redirected his attention.
“I’m not falling for that one. Listen, Sir Crowley, you strike me as a gambling man, so here is my gamble: if we can so much as scratch you, we win; if not, you get us,” laid out Erick.
"Does he articulate the sentiments of your entire assembly?" Sir Crowley responded.
“Fuck it, yeah,” Thomas proclaimed as he observed others nodding in agreement.
"Indeed, it is a spectacle of grandeur—a mage, stalwart in defense of his kin, mustering them against the demonic forces, akin to the tales of antiquity. Ah, the nostalgia for the vigor of youth, I accept!" declared Sir Crowley.
“Bunker; activate protocol ze-”
A resounding clap echoed through the room as Sir Crowley plunged them into utter darkness.
"Twenty-three serfs, a sovereign, an architect, a nurturer, a champion, a jester, an outlaw, a magician, and a simulacrum. Firstly, let us ensconce the explorer I have obtained previously within the confines of the simulacrum."
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Diana's squad car brought her back to the scene, and the sight before her was nothing short of horrific. Ash, remnants of the chaos, drifted away in the cold night wind. Angela, on a stretcher, was being loaded into an ambulance, surrounded by a growing number of first responders. Men in suits emerged from black cars, approaching Captain Connors, while three portals opened in the sky, releasing helicopters casting their searchlights to illuminate the scene.
One of the agents approached Captain Connors, inquiring, "What happened here?"
While Connors briefed the agents, Richard approached Diana, concern etched on his face. "What happened here? Is Angela going to be okay?" Diana asked.
Richard explained the unimaginable, describing an attack by a girl casting without incantations. As for Angela, she had overchanneled, causing third-degree damage. She is in a very dire state.
Diana found it hard to believe. "Connors said that you found out she was in hell, which makes me think I might know what happened," Richard began to unfold his theory about Solomon Blaze's interplanar research and the possibility that a high school student had inadvertently cast a planar travel spell.
"That sounds like a real stretch. A high school student wouldn't be able to cast something like that," Diana voiced her skepticism.
Richard continued explaining, "It doesn't have to be successful; it just has to—"
A deafening explosion interrupted their conversation as a burst of air and ash engulfed everyone. The residence had reappeared, closing the gaping hole. The once-destroyed neighborhood now lay in an eerie silence, the mansion casting a foreboding shadow with no signs of life emanating from within.
The agent turned to his colleagues, declaring their mission as a search and rescue. He emphasized the need for caution, given the intel that indicated the residence's connection to the infernal realm. Captain Connors agreed, signaling for assistance from Diana and Richard. Diana, in response, cast a protection spell on herself. The group approached the door with caution, and one of the agents illuminated the darkened interior.
As the door swung open, the horrifying scene within unveiled itself—an array of mangled bodies scattered across the floor, walls, and furniture. Diana, seasoned as she was in confronting the grim realities of her profession, found it challenging to comprehend the brutality that had unfolded in this residence. The gruesome sight overwhelmed one of the agents, forcing him to retreat as he emptied his stomach outside.
"Gods, this was violent," Captain Connors remarked, acknowledging the severity of the situation. He turned to Diana, nodding in understanding.
Diana, attempting to glean information from the spiritual realm, incanted, "Ostende mortuos." Closing her eyes, she awaited the ethereal response.
"No ghosts," Diana reported, her voice betraying a mixture of relief and sorrow. Preparing for the next revelation, she cast another incantation, "Ostende Vitam."
"No demons, but there is a group of people underground who are still alive," Diana shared, offering a glimmer of hope amid the grim circumstances.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/m0Tq0ty/32662d1c-831d-4e3d-8cfd-15fd6508cdd5.jpg]
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With a renewed sense of purpose, the agents and detectives mobilized to find a passage into the basement. Diana, employing her prognostication abilities, quickly located the basement stairs and signaled the others. Together, they descended into the depths, arriving at a sealed bunker. Diana tried to unlock the door with an abnegation spell, but her efforts proved futile.
"This is going to be difficult to unlock. Are any of you rank A or above abnegators?" Diana inquired, seeking assistance from the agents. However, all of them shook their heads.
Richard, resourceful as ever, retrieved a pair of runic glasses. After surveying the room, he approached one of the walls and produced a runic key. Turning it against the wall, a fuse box materialized. Opening the box filled with runes, some of which were deactivated, Richard made an observation.
"Well, whatever happened, they might have disabled parts of the security system," Richard remarked. With a deliberate action, he disabled one of the runes, causing the bunker door to creak open.
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INCIDENT REPORT: IR-1068-ABZ-0423
On 16/04/1068 at proximately 23:29 a mansion belonging to [redacted] in the Frey neighbourhood disappeared, and was reported at 23:31, first responders and Captain Zackary Connors arrived at the scene at approximately 23:42, the press followed suit at 23:46 drawing a crowd, detective Angela Pichler arrived at 23:53 followed by detective Richard Gautier at 23:57, and detective Diana Esposito on the 17/04/1068 at 00:06. At 00:08 [redacted] a student materialized injured at the scene, she was stabilized and taken to the hospital, detective Esposito accompanied her, and casted; a [redacted] (5 circled spell) [redacted] (sanctioned) to find out what happened to the student. At 00:34 result from detective Esposito’s spell [redacted] managed to find out the residence has been sent to [redacted]. At 00:37 an unknown entity materialized possibly [redacted] and attacked people at the scene by casting unknown spells, Angela Pichler cast: [redacted] (6 circled spell) [redacted](unsanctioned but justified) 64 civilians, 21 uniformed officers, 11 first responders were killed, and one detective was injured (Angela Pichler). [redacted sentence] 00:38 [redacted sentence], the entity left at 00:39 due to hearing a seraphim’s call. At 01:01 more responders came to the scene and stabilized detective Pichler. [redacted sentence]. The residence reappeared at 01:31, the detectives went into the residence [redacted]. There were an estimated 126 dead, 2 gravely injured, 3 injured, 7 minor injured, 17 uninjured and [redacted]. All the living students [redacted] seemed to be in a coma of some sort. 01:37 Detective Esposito collapsed due to burnout.
ONGOING INVESTIGATION:
17/04/1068
08:38
[redacted] is believed to be in [redacted] conducting research and has been for [redacted], he might not have been involved in this but will need to be questioned. The reason for the residence disappearance and reappearance is still unclear, due to [redacted], [redacted] must not be ruled out, however Detective Gautier presented an alternative theory. The [redacted] is unregistered and unresponsive, no [redacted] has been discovered further investigation has revealed that this [redacted] possesses [redacted] which is unprecedented efforts are being made to locate [redacted]. All the students are still unresponsive, efforts are being made to wake them up, all injured students have been stabilized and all living guardians have been contacted. The exact time dilation from dimensional travel of the student has been estimated at a factor of 0.33 when calculating for D, due to this we can estimate they have spent 30 to 35 minutes in [redacted] from their perspective. Due to [redacted] as well as knowing the most about the case, clearance is requested for Captain Connors, Detective Esposito, Detective Gautier and Detective Pichler. The whereabouts of the entity are still unknown. All runic items in the residence have been seized pending investigation.