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As soon as we touched ground, high-ranking officers from the Maia Planetary Forces were quick to guide us into a car and bring us back to MPF headquarters so they could further discuss the incident. Sunny sent a brief summary along while we were waiting to obtain landing clearance, so all that remained was to go over the details and prepare an incident report to show to the Delta Six during Bella and Sunny’s trip to Amieres.

That was: all that remained for those who were going on the trip.

Unfortunately, there was only so much room in the meeting hall, so Sunny asked me to return to my office on the upper floor of headquarters armed with paperwork. I needed to have it all squared away by the end of the week, a task I felt born to handle, except for the fact I’d spent much of my early life illiterate.

The trip I brought Bella on turned out to have been somewhat tenuous when it came to certain “trespassing laws and regulations” involving “abandoned and therefore historic property”, so I took on the burden of pilfering through piles of legal jargon so I could properly excuse my “lack of vigilance in following due protocol”. All in a bid to assure the Guardian Council of Maia that yes, our investigation was legal, secure, and should not get us sanctioned again. Urgh, they could be as bothersome as the Delta Six when it came to their vigilance. And, of course, Sunny took charge of the Guardian Council.

…All in all, routine work. Nothing legendary heroes couldn’t handle.

My office was the palace of my amazing feats, consisting of a room about several broom closets big. A rather modern looking CRT (nearly a hundred years ago is modern enough, right?) television sat in front of the wall adjacent to where the door was. Next to the door stood half a wall of nothing but book cases, with a window overlooking the city and various piles of file-holding boxes taking up the rest of the space.

Of course, I had one singular desk to mark the oasis among this sea of madness and bureaucracy. However, a tidal wave of nightmarish restrictive malarkey (documents) struck recently, to which I tasked myself to free the townspeople (I was the townspeople) drowned under the weight of its sheer destructive might.

My wrists ached, but my will held strong! My passion, true! And my ability to write signatures over and over again: truly unmatched.

Hah. Fuck it. No matter how many colourful metaphors I strung together, nothing could cure my boredom. I’d already locked myself away for a day, yet I was nowhere near done. I clicked my pen and stood up with the intent to check in on affairs now that Sunny and Bella had long since departed.

That was, until my throat burned with the agony of withered crops, shriveled under the force of a hot sun.

Gods damn these bodily needs.

I couldn’t help it—I pulled on a pair of black gloves and some brown boots. My hands trailed down towards one of the metal clasps near my waist. This one was the largest of the clasps that adorned my thick green coat, hung by a metal chain that kept my jacket wrapped tightly around me. The icy air drove me to buy a few pairs of dark green sweatpants only a week before, one of which I wore now. Warmth was precious during these winter months, especially on a water dominant planet such as this. I even kept my ungroomable mess of black hair a bit longer than usual, far past my ears simply to avoid a chill down my neck.

Inside of the biggest metal claps was a pulsating, magenta gem. Just as it had done for over ten thousand years, it held the power that kept me tied to this mortal realm. True immortality was nothing short of a fantasy, but keeping one’s soul in suspended stasis so the body could live on forever was a dream that’d easily be taken away with a crack in the wrong place.

I was honored to be the first to claim this power. And so I pledged to use it to—

My stomach lurched, and I bent over my desk in an effort to not throw up stomach acid. I declared it time to acquire food and drink. Admirable inner thoughts later.

My routine stayed simple: I left my dreary office and entered the not-so-dreary hallway, which was painted blue in respect to our planetary colours. I made my way to the elevator and all but crushed the button to get myself to the third floor as fast as possible. I ran through the next hallway, only bumping into two people this time as I threw open the double doors and entered the cafeteria. This place was much more overt with its ocean iconography. We’d brought in artists over the years who painted majestic murals of whales and…mermaids of the alluring variety. Our efforts to get that repainted all ended for naught, for reasons I must never discuss in polite company.

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The room only consisted of some chain restaurants and grab-and-go establishments, which made it easy for me—all I needed to do was grab and go! Though the minty smell of Pasta About You was mouth watering, I decided to go for a pre-wrapped sandwich from Sandwich Not About You, which always provided a visual feast for the eyes. Delicate, oily offerings of salami-pepper sandwiches, perfectly fried bacon that drizzled grease onto fresh green tufts of lettuce? How could I turn away?

“This will suffice,” I said as I handed the cashier money for a ham and cheese paired with a water bottle. “You are doing the Lestaria Empire a monumental service by feeding the citizens. I applaud you for that!”

Ah. Reminded of my folly, I turned around and saluted the empire flag that hung above a mural of a big-chested mermaid sitting on a rock. No matter what came of meeting with the Delta Six, I forever considered Maia one of the six great planets of the Lestaria Empire. No matter how the climate may change, no matter how inhospitable it becomes. All could be fixed in a few thousand years or so.

I turned back around, the cashier staring at me intently for some indiscernible reason. He glanced at the sandwich for a few seconds before slowly scanning it and placing it on the service end of the counter. “Right.”

The machine itself consisted of a small black box for scanning and a holographic screen for the rest, so it was easy to notice how tense he was through that. The young man had a blue tint to his skin and a small pattering of rainbow scales on his left cheek, along with long black hair and pointy teeth pulled into a grimace. One hand remained buried in his apron pocket as the other went through the motions of the purchase. I moved to grab my lunch, and turned away with food in hand when he spoke up once more.

“Wait. You’re Erna.”

I whipped my head back towards him. I dug a thumb in my chest on instinct, nearly dropping my water in the process. “Indeed I am. Erna Dee Belmonte. Hero of the Lestaria Empire, discoverer of magic, champion of the Penta Wars, and the first immortal—“

“That means you work with the Maia Planetary Forces or something, right?” His eyes widened, and he leaned over the counter. “Can you—can I ask you to like, check your open criminal cases in Saturni? My brother, he…uh, he’s…”

I sighed. Loathed as I was to let him cut off my educational opening, he clearly had some pressing matter he wished to communicate with me. So, I slammed a hand on the counter to cease his infernal stuttering. “Of course I’m willing to hear out the concerns of the people, but please do it concisely so I can understand the situation.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “My brother was murdered by some light angel being.”

“…A whazza-buzza?” Could a bird be mistaken for an angelic figure? After all, such nonsense had never existed, unless he was referring to a spirit, but few of those lived here…

“C’mon, you gotta believe me!” He chewed on his bottom lip between words, drawing blood within moments from the excessive force. “I saw it! It happened two weeks ago, I was gonna visit him and this angel thing was running away, and—he was cut in half, and gods—I mean, it was so godsdamn—shit, shit, I mean…”

“I take no offense,” I said and rubbed at my temples to assuage my budding headache. His testimony combined with his nerves were a mess to decipher. “I am not one of those people that minds curses in a request such as this.”

“Shit…” The boy slapped his face twice. “He was killed! I know what killed him, but the MPF wrote it off as some spirit and told me they didn’t believe me!”

Hm.

On one hand, their judgment was most likely correct: angels only existed in religious scripture, and so the odds were much higher he spotted a spirit that happened to take a similar form. Perhaps he identified as religious? Nevertheless…for the sake of my beloved citizen, I played along and used this as a chance to step outside for a bit. Aha, it even served as a chance to grant some MPF officers hands-on advice!

“I’ll look into it,” I said. “I apologize for our negligence on behalf of the MPF. May I have your brother’s name? I’ll see what I can find.”

The man looked away from me. His hands curled into fists, and he shoved them both in his apron pocket. Though he was yelling before, now his voice was tight and quiet. “Kala Grimer. Whatever the fuck you people can figure out, I don’t care. Just find him some justice.”

And with that, the younger Grimer turned around and went into the back door of the establishment. I left soon after, no more business remaining to keep me there.

A few more employees crossed my path on the way back to my office, but I brushed past them all, with nary a crumb of acknowledgment from any of them. I listened to the crinkle of plastic as my grip tightened on my water bottle, the ache behind my eyes reminding me of how important sleep could be.

Eat. A bit more paperwork. When the day truly began, I’d attend to Grimer’s request among my many other duties, then I could finally get some sleep.