6.6.3502, 20:00, Stean, Arcane Operatives' hideout.
Trail, Mimicry, and Smoothtalker were going over the mission plan one final time.
On Smoothtalker's proposal they had designated his quarters as the place to discuss the mission a last time, before commencing operations.
Trail's master wore a serious expression on his aged face as he addressed the topic at hand.
“As previously mentioned I will be mostly in the background acting as a safeguard should anything go awry during this mission. The both of you are to use what you've learned during your training and apply it as fits the situation. Mimicry will use Waver to notify me should anything go wrong. If he's incapacitated, Trail will create a commotion to notify me. We don't have Blur right now so make sure your masks stay in place at all times.”
As Smoothtalker continued with his orders, Mimicry was trying his best to find a comfortable sitting posture in the uncomfortable wooden chair that forced him to sit upright to an unnerving degree.
Shooting the squirming young man a disapproving glare, Trail, sitting straight as an arrow, nodded in agreement with her master's words before pointing out an issue.
“Wouldn't creating a commotion lead to the surrounding police officers rushing over and cornering us?”
“I'm fast enough to get the two of you out of there before that poses a threat. We will move out now.”
Smoothtalker replied briskly.
With this the trio got up and left the minimalistic, neatly arranged living room.
They arrived to their target’s location shortly after, looking up at the grey three-story stone building that was Stean's police headquarters.
Under the curtain of the night they donned assassins’ robes and black steel half masks covering their upper face down to their nose.
Having approached from the backside of the building through a narrow alley, they faced an unmonitored wall without a door.
Smoothtalker stopped right before the small path lead into a courtyard used for garbage storage, leaving the two newbies to approach on their own.
They had previously learnt that the target's office was located on the third floor, as well as the rough schedule for his arrival.
It was 20:45 and the earliest he normally entered his office after investigations was 21:00. Their goals was to reach his office before that and prepare an ambush.
Mimicry was first to scale the building's facade, clutching a razor-sharp dagger between his teeth. The protruding mounds the stone wall offered were excellent support for his climbing.
With Trail close behind him, he reached the detective’s window sill and using it as a base to hold his weight, removed the dagger from his mouth. By employing it like a lever he pushed the window up. It creaked in protest, leaving a small dent in its wooden frame where the blade pushed into it.
Quickly slipping through the newly-formed gap, he scanned the room while waiting for his accomplice to catch up.
To say it was what he had expected would sum it up quite well, as wooden cabinets presumably filled with documents filled most of the room. The sizeable desk in its center had countless papers covered with varying types of texts strewn over it. Their contents were indiscernible due to the poor lighting in the dark room.
Choosing to collect them after the mission for later analysis, he let his gaze drift towards his partner, who was currently swinging into the room through the window. She landed on both her feet and despite her momentum, there was no sound escaping the wooden floor as she had bent her legs to absorb the force.
Finishing his scrutinizing of the surroundings, Mimicry moved to the side of the single door leading outside of the room and sunk into the shadows. Falling into the abyss of darkness he was ready to strike when needed to.
In the meantime Trail had closed the window behind her and now also moved towards the door. She gently twisted the door hinge and slipped through the opening.
They had planned this endeavor at such a late hour primarily for the lack of personnel present in the building, which allowed for more free movement. The third floor was practically deserted as it was still in construction. Most of the rooms hadn't been furnished with interior equipment yet and only the light of the street lamps threw a subdued light into the dark premises.
Trail quickly navigated through the dim corridor and returned less than a minute later, having sneaked to the staircase and back. Carefully closing the door behind herself, she made sure that Mimicry was ready and sank into the shadows between two cupboards, still remaining faintly visible for her companion.
The waiting was nerve-racking and the both of them began to regret having finished their preparations this fast.
Time seemed to flowed like thick syrup, making the atmosphere feel tense. Despite it being unnecessary, Trail would occasionally check on the hallway through her ability. Her observations were just a way to calm herself, as she would naturally sense the target once he stepped into the hallway.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, approaching footsteps rang out and light shone through the cracks of the door.
Through her second pair of eyes Trail saw the target approach with confident steps. In reaction to this she stretched her fingers out and began to count down with them, the signal for Mimicry.
Noticing her absent gaze and the countdown, the young man silently drew one of his daggers. The pistol in his shoulder holster, his last resort, bore a reassuring weight. Poised to strike, his muscles tensed, his whole body like a compressed spring right before rapid extension.
Three, the steps drew nearer.
Two, the doorknob went down.
One, the detective entered and reached for the light switch.
Zero, Mimicry shot out, air swirling around him, his blade aimed at the man’s neck.
The cold steel was about to sever soft flesh when the detective suddenly sidestepped, barely evading the fatal attack.
Having failed to land his strike, Mimicry changed his stance, stepping between the target and the exit.
Concurrently Trail had snuck behind the detective, cornering him completely.
Reaching for his own firearm to fight off the assailants, his plan was destined to fail. The hooded figure was simply too close to him and he only managed to grip his pistol before he was forced to awkwardly twist his body once again.
Astounded by the target's ability to dodge, Mimicry swiftly went in for another stab and then another. But no matter what he did, even with his movements accelerated through the use of Waver, it seemed impossible to connect his strikes fully, only able to graze skin with his attacks.
During this onslaught, the detective had finally managed to draw his gun.
Seeing the iron barrel aimed at him and unable to stop his lunge, Mimicry opted for the emergency plan.
Activating Dupe his outline shifted, becoming shorter and his forward momentum inexplicably disappeared as he somersaulted to the side.
Somehow the detective flung the pistol around, adjusting to the evasive maneuver as he fired a shot, almost like he’d predicted it. However the hurried motion made his aim unsteady and the bullet missed its mark, instead digging deep into one of the cabinets.
Unwilling to let this golden opportunity go to waste, he took aim anew to follow up his attack, when suddenly the sound of flesh getting sliced reached his ears. His pupils dilated in disbelief, as he was unable to do anything but watch the floor draw closer to him, eyes losing focus.
Trail, dagger tip covered in blood, stood over the collapsing figure as the limp head hit the ground. The silver-rimmed glasses flew off, still in pristine condition despite the circumstances.
Noticing this, she squatted down and picked them up, speculating that they had something special about them.
While she stashed them away, Mimicry was busy collecting the papers that laid on the desk. If they had more time, going through all of the documents would have been the plan, but since the earlier gunshot alerted the police officers on the lower floors they couldn't do that.
Pushing the window they had previously used for entry up again, Trail left the scene, climbing down the building's side. She lacked thorough experience in this, which forced her to go slower than she would have liked to. Once she was low enough she pushed herself off the wall and fell down to the paved street.
In the meantime Mimicry had finished gathering the documents and with hurried footsteps ringing from the staircase, he jumped from the third floor. Swirling the air against himself, he slowed down and absorbed the much more manageable fall with a roll.
Now caught up with his accomplice, he dashed towards the waiting Smoothtalker. The mission had been completed and it was time for a swift departure.
Smoothtalker's quarters.
Having completed their mission successfully, Mimicry and Trail were now appraising their spoils of war.
As Smoothtalker didn't have to intervene during the mission he naturally had no thoughts of claiming a part of them, even though he had provided the information and planned the mission. In this case he just waited for the two teenagers to finish their inspecting.
In the end it had been a mission in the interest of the whole organization and something worthy of a reward. Thus their contributions were noted down for later exchange.
The two, now independent members of the Arcane Operatives, were engrossed in their analyzing of the silver-rimmed accessory. Earlier they had agreed that they would each keep what they picked up, but that didn't stop Mimicry from being curious about the glasses.
Trail was currently wearing them, her eyes filled with amazement as she looked around.
With the mission accomplished, she had now also become an official member and would soon move into the hideout.
Master, I mean Smoothtalker, could it be that these glasses allow the wearer to see the future? Trail asked in a serious tone that betrayed the excitement in her eyes.
Foresight is one of the more rare enchantments the officials and government use, but it is plausible for a detective like him to be granted an item of this caliber.
Smoothtalker responded casually.
Satisfied with the answer, Trail began to narrow down the timeframe the glasses could show. Although show didn't describe it quite right, as it acted like a separate perception, a sixth sense in a way.
She couldn't help but criticize how comically strong the enchantment was. There was no adjusting needed, you just donned the item and could sense the future in your field of vision.
After some more testing she came to the conclusion that it allowed the wearer to sense around a second into the future.
On Mimicry’s suggestion, she checked if the enchantment would work on her second pair of eyes and interestingly it did. This lead to the assumption that foresight applied to anything seen, no matter the method.
It had been around 15 minutes since they returned and Trail, due to her mind being occupied by the experimenting, had forgotten about keeping a look on the clock. So she was startled when Smoothtalker suddenly reminded her of its importance.
The award for the mission should be bestowed momentarily.
His voice carried absolute conviction, like what he said was inevitably going to occur. And sure enough less than a minute later blue rays of light appeared all across the room, bathing it in their color. Mimicry’s and Trail’s tattoos manifested promptly beginning to draw the light into themselves.
While Mimicry’s only pulsated for a short moment, absorbing a minuscule amount of light, Trail’s was like a vortex, the blue tinged lens was drawing nearly all the rays towards it. It swelled, unable to contain what it absorbed, cracks forming on its form. It continued to erode and disintegrate until it burst completely.
Glaring blue light flooded the room, blinding the two unsuspecting teenagers. Having expected this, Smoothtalker had closed his eyes and looked away.
But as quick as it appeared it disappeared, being rapidly absorbed by a newly-forming tattoo, a blue nine-edged star. Rippling, it soon calmed down, now undulating like a serene ocean.
Trail had advanced, reaching Link-Might 7.
Unable to uphold the dignified demeanor she usually upheld before her former master, she shouted.
Full of uncontainable euphoria she praised the magnificent sun, Terex, her face a mask of elation.
Sitting still on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs, Mimicry just watched her with a faint smile on his lips. The mission had been a complete success.