The shrill sound of the doorbell jarred Gideon from sleep. Groggy, he glanced at the clock—too early for visitors. His body moved before his mind could fully catch up, pulling on a black t-shirt and slipping into his jeans, neither too tight or loose. The doorbell rang again, sharper this time, and an unsettling sense of caution crept in.
Instinct kicked in. He took to his nightstand, opening the drawer and unsheathing a KM2000 combat knife with practiced ease. The blade felt solid in his grip, a reminder of the life he once led—always ready, just in case.
With the black tinted knife in hand, he approached the door, using his left arm to tuck the blade behind his back. His right hand hovered over the handle. Slowly, carefully, he cracked the door open just enough to see the person outside, keeping most of his body concealed behind it. Only a sliver of himself was visible, enough to maintain control while the heavy oak served as a barrier—and a shield, if needed.
The door creaked open, just enough for Gideon to assess the situation. His eyes flickered over the figure standing outside—a courier. But not just any courier. Feathers. Wings. And far too young.
A harpy.
She was dressed in a standard courier’s uniform—a navy blue jacket fitted awkwardly over her slender frame, with slits cut in the back to accommodate her wings. The jacket was a tad too big, the sleeves bunching at her wrists, and the matching cap barely sat on her head, perched awkwardly between the tufts of white feathers atop her crown. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, her talons scraping lightly against the doorstep.
Her large, golden eyes widened, scanning him with the nervous energy of someone new on the job. She looked barely old enough to have her wings fully grown, let alone be doing courier work. Her feathers, a mix of dusty brown and white, fluttered slightly as she fiddled with a small satchel slung over her shoulder.
" Äh, Paket für… Victor Roth ?" she chirped, her voice uncertain. The words came out hesitant, as if she wasn’t entirely sure about her German, though she read the name from the label carefully.
Gideon relaxed, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Just like yesterday, it was still strange to hear his pseudonym being said out loud.
" Ja, das bin ich, " he replied in a low, rasping tone, confirming his identity. He eased the door open a bit further, though still kept most of his body concealed. The young harpy extended the package toward him with both hands, her wings shifting nervously over the jacket.
Her gaze darted to his face, then back down to the package as if she were trying to be professional but wasn’t entirely sure how.
" Danke, " Gideon muttered, thanking her. He took the package with his right hand, feeling its weight. He was about to shut the door when she spoke again, her voice wavering slightly.
" Äh… Sie müssen noch unterschreiben. " The courier blurted. Her feathers fluffed up awkwardly, and she pulled a small clipboard from her bag, offering it to him with a shy smile. The uniform cap shifted on her head, threatening to fall off with every nervous twitch of her wings. Gideon couldn’t help but smile subtly at the sight. He carefully placed the knife in his left back pocket so as to not stab himself and finally revealed himself in full view to grab the offered item. He could see the harpy shrinking back as he loomed several heads taller than her. Noticing this, he quickly signed the receipt and bowed slightly as he returned the clipboard to her with both hands. From the looks of things, to harpy standards at least, she couldn't have been older than 18 years old.
Little did the young harpy know, Gideon had cleverly attached fifty euros alongside the clipboard as a tip - a sleight of hand he picked up from Kaz.
The young harpy nodded, her wings giving a small, relieved flutter. She didn't seem to notice what Gideon had done.
" Danke! Schönen Tag noch! " The harpy thanked him, wishing Gideon a good day as she blurted out in a rush, clearly eager to finish her task as she tucked the clipboard back into her bag.
Gideon watched her fly down the hallway, before glancing down at the package. He shook his head and closed the door, the weight of the knife resting on his back pocket—a needless precaution this time, but old habits die hard.
The package felt unremarkable in Gideon’s hands. Wrapped in simple brown paper, it bore no marks of distinction, no hints that it held something of value. Just a common delivery. His forged name, Victor Roth , was scrawled neatly on the courier label, accompanied by a small "Fragile" stamp in the corner.
Gideon frowned as he set it on the dining table, carefully using his knife to cut through the cover. Inside, the first layer revealed a standard cardboard box, unassuming and ordinary. Yet, as he lifted the lid, he noticed the padding inside—thick foam that cradled something far more significant. He glanced over the packaging, his instincts tingling. No ordinary item would require this level of care. His fingers traced the foam as he pulled it away, revealing a small chest nestled within. Crafted from dark, polished wood, it gleamed under the morning light. Intricate carvings lined the edges—delicate patterns that at first glance seemed decorative but, upon closer inspection, bore the unmistakable mark of runic protection. They glowed a subtle blue against the dark wood, almost imperceptibly, as if the magic imbued within was waiting for him to unlock it.
Gideon ran a thumb over the surface of the small chest - it was approximately around the size of a smartphone box yet power thrummed beneath his touch. Whoever had sent this wasn’t taking any chances. The locking mechanism was complex, a series of interwoven sigils that shifted ever so slightly under his gaze. There wasn't any visible locking mechanism, in fact the container seemed to be one solid piece of wood. But then, it clicked open.
Inside, was a peculiar device resting on a bed of black velvet. It looked similar to a smartphone, but at the same time, it wasn't. Gideon carefully picked it up, and remarked that this device wasn't larger than an ordinary smartphone. Felt like one too. Especially with four optics built into its corners. Well, if a smartphone was made from matte titanium covered with ballistic nylon then sure. He flipped it, and saw a MOLLE-compatible panel on the device’s backside. Whatever this device was, it was built with incredible sturdiness and even more refined craftsmanship. Clearly it was meant to be in military applications or at least extreme outdoor activities. He thought this was someone else's package he had gotten by mistake, a brand new smartphone for an actual Victor Roth that lived in the same apartment. He took another look at the label and the apartment number was the exact same as the one he was in.
Another damning evidence that this package was meant for him, was the emblem on the device's face - a lone wolf etched with intricate detail, surrounded by blue glowing arcane runes. This emblem was, of course, Gideon's Steam account profile picture. Other than him, someone most familiar with it would be Mira. As his thumb delicately grazed over them, they pulsed and beat as if responding to his touch like a living thing. The sight of it stirred something deep inside his chest, something that threatened to spill from his eyes.
" Es kann nicht sein. " he mumbled, his voice trembled. It can't be.
Placing the device carefully on the table, Gideon noticed a thin, seemingly ordinary sheet of paper that must have been placed underneath the device. At first glance, it appeared unremarkable—just a simple, glossy sheet like the ones that usually accompany electronics. The material felt smooth and light in his hand, the kind of paper that was easy to overlook, designed to blend in and avoid attention. By all intents and purposes, the paper was completely blank. But as he looked closer, he noticed something odd. At the bottom corner, barely visible against the reflective surface, a single rune was etched in faint, shimmering ink. It was almost imperceptible until the light hit it just right, causing the rune to glow ever so faintly.
Instinctively, Gideon's gaze locked onto the rune, its intricate lines seeming to pulse, as if drawing him in. The moment his eyes focused on it, the rune flared to life, flooding his vision with blinding light. His surroundings blurred into nothing, replaced by a sudden torrent of information that rushed into his mind with relentless force—details about the Hexlink, its functions as both an arcane journal and communications device. He saw diagrams of its construction, felt the mechanisms of its magic, and understood, on an intimate level, the delicate interplay of enchantments woven into its core. It was as if the manual had bypassed his senses entirely and carved itself directly into his thoughts.
A flash of searing pain ripped through his skull, an agony so intense it felt like his mind was being burned from the inside out. He let out a strangled grunt, his body collapsing to the ground as he clutched his head, fingers digging into his scalp in a desperate attempt to ground himself. The onslaught of knowledge was unbearable—each piece of information tearing at his consciousness, a chaotic symphony of magical blueprints and commands.
The pain grew until it was all-consuming, the edges of his vision darkening, his awareness narrowing to a single point of white-hot fire. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the pain receded, leaving him hollowed out, the world around him slowly reforming as the blinding light dimmed. Gideon lay there, breathless, his chest heaving as the last remnants of the vision flickered away. He forced his eyes open, blinking against the dizziness that clouded his mind. Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself up, one hand reaching for the edge of the table, his knuckles white as he gripped it for support. He felt as if he’d been struck by lightning, his nerves tingling with residual energy. His mind buzzed with newfound understanding, every detail about the Hexlink now etched into his memory, but at the cost of almost blacking out completely. With a groggy shake of his head, he steadied himself, drawing in deep, ragged breaths, his vision slowly clearing as the overwhelming torrent began to settle.
He staggered to the living room’s sofa, and collapsed into unconsciousness.
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Gideon awoke to the dim light of the late afternoon filtering through the windows, the sun low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. His head throbbed dully, the aftermath of the earlier searing pain still echoing in his skull. It was as if someone had split his mind open and poured molten magic into the gaps, leaving him raw and exhausted. He groaned, his eyes squinting against the light as he sat up slowly, every movement reminding him of the ordeal he endured.
He went to the kitchen and greedily chugged on a pitcher of water, emptying almost all its content in seconds. For a moment, he just sat on the dinner table, breathing through the throbbing ache that pulsed in his temples, his vision still a little hazy around the edges. The dizziness had settled into a dull haze, but the urge to understand the Hexlink burned through it. He couldn't just let it go, not after what had happened. There was something about it that drew him back, as if it held secrets he hadn’t yet unlocked—secrets that were worth the pain, the risk. His gaze shifted back to where the Hexlink lay, its cover closed, the lone wolf emblem glinting faintly in the fading light. It seemed innocent now, almost ordinary, but he knew better. There was power in it—real, raw power that he needed to understand.
With a grunt, he picked it up, his hands trembling slightly from both fatigue and anticipation. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the weight of the titanium-reinforced edges and the rough texture of the ballistic nylon cover. The arcane runes flickered to life as he touched them, a faint glow that pulsed as if acknowledging his presence.
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He noticed a thin slit - one that he did not even notice before - and slowly pried open the device, his breath catching as iridescent blue pages materialized, shimmering before his pale green eyes. He hesitated for just a moment before he let his gaze drift across the pages, with the Hexlink seemingly responding to his thoughts or rather instincts at this point. Gideon activated the adaptive map feature, where the Hexlink displayed Eichenwald in perfect clarity, the buildings, enchanted trees, the streets, and even the subtle ley lines beneath the town glowing softly on the page. The information from earlier—the blueprints, the capabilities—resurfaced in his mind, clear and precise. It was as though the Hexlink had woven itself into him, embedding all of its knowledge deep within.
He swallowed the lingering ache in his head barely registering as his fingers moved over the shimmering pages. There were still so many layers to it, so many things he understood yet at the same time needed to be understood. It was then when the Hexlink popped a three dimensional holographic notification, letting him know that there was a pre-recorded message already saved within. Tapping the alert, The Hexlink pulsed softly in Gideon's hand, its optics flaring to life, projecting beams of blue light into the air above it. The room was dim, late afternoon light casting long shadows, but the holographic glow illuminated the space as if filling it with the presence of those he had lost. As the light solidified, Mira stood before him, her grin as wide and teasing as ever.
"Gid, du alter Bastard," she teased, reminding him that today was special, a little grin playing on her lips. They’d managed to get him something despite his usual protests, and she made it clear with a laugh that he was out of luck—"Alles Gute zum 30. Geburtstag!" They had gone through the trouble of pooling their money together for this, and she wasn’t going to let him brush it off like it didn’t matter.
The scene shifted, revealing Kaz, leaning casually against a projected tree, his usual smirk softening just a little. "Jedes Jahr dieselbe Leier, Vogt," he said, shaking his head at their familiar ritual. Gideon always acted like it was just another day, but they all knew the truth—"Du tust so, als wäre es nur ein weiterer Tag, aber wir wissen alle, dass du dich insgeheim darauf freust." Even if he tried to hide it, Kaz knew Gideon secretly looked forward to their little traditions.
Kaz gestured toward the Hexlink, emphasizing that it wasn’t just some gadget—"Dieses Ding hier ist nicht nur ein Spielzeug. Es ist unser Geschenk an dich. Also pass gut darauf auf, okay?" It was something special, something they had chosen for him together. Kaz’s words carried a note of seriousness, urging Gideon to take care of it, as if he was trying to impress upon him the value of their gift.
The projection shimmered again, and Thorneck’s voice filled the room with a steady warmth. "Gideon, wir wollten sicherstellen, dass du immer eine Erinnerung an uns hast, egal was passiert," he said, making it clear that this gift was meant to be a reminder of them, even during the harder times. He knew that Gideon wasn’t one for sentiment, but this was their way of keeping the connection alive—"Wir wissen, dass das Leben nicht immer leicht ist, aber dieses Journal soll dich daran erinnern, dass du nie wirklich alleine bist." It was their hope that the journal would remind Gideon he wasn’t truly alone, even when life got tough.
Then came Lira, her presence gentle and kind, her voice a soothing melody in the otherwise quiet space. "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Gideon," she said softly, offering her warmest wishes. She leaned in a bit closer, sharing a little secret—"Ich hoffe, du findest Frieden, wenn du das Hexlink benutzt. Es steckt viel von uns allen darin, aber auch ein Teil von mir. Ich habe dafür gesorgt, dass es sich immer wie ein Zuhause anfühlt, egal wo du bist." She hoped he’d find a sense of comfort in using the Hexlink, knowing that a part of them—and a special part of her—was woven into its very essence. No matter where he found himself, she had tried to ensure that it would feel like home.
A playful smile touched her lips as she reminded him of his routines—"Vergiss nicht, die Vögel zu füttern, Gideon. Und pflege die Pflanzen—sie brauchen dich, genauso wie du uns brauchst." It was a gentle nudge to keep up with the little things, like feeding the birds and care for the plants, the small acts of care that had always kept them grounded.
By this point, tears had already begun to spill down Gideon’s cheeks, his breath hitching as he listened to their voices, their warmth cutting through the loneliness.
Lastly, Elara’s figure emerged, her presence serene, her smile offering a quiet reassurance. "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Gideon," she whispered, the words carrying a weight that settled deep in his chest. Her gaze softened as she explained the true nature of the gift—"Dieses Journal ist mehr als nur ein Geschenk. Es ist ein Teil von uns. Solange du es hast, sind wir bei dir." It wasn’t merely a birthday present; it was a part of them, a promise that as long as he kept the Hexlink close, they would be with him in spirit.
She added one last note, as if sharing an afterthought—"Und übrigens—du solltest Sylvia Ashborne kontaktieren. Sie war es, die dieses Hexlink für dich gemacht hat. Du schuldest ihr ein Dankeschön." She suggested he reach out to Sylvia Ashborne, the one who had put so much care into crafting the Hexlink, hinting that he owed her a word of thanks.
As the figures faded, their words lingered, mingling with the quiet of the room. Gideon clutched the Hexlink to his chest, the engraved lone wolf emblem pressing into his skin, as the weight of their messages finally broke through his defenses. He sank to his knees by the dining table, sobs wracking his body as the reality of their absence and their enduring care crashed over him. And in the midst of his grief, he found a small, flickering sense of hope—one they had left behind, even when he hadn’t known how badly he needed it.
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Before he knew it, hours had gone by, and it was midnight. Gideon’s sobbing had stopped, his tears ran dry as he sat hunched on the dinner table over the Hexlink, being rather lightheaded and not entirely there. Gideon’s hands trembled slightly as he cradled the device. It glowed faintly, the engraved emblem catching the waning light in the room. The manual’s imprint in his mind left him feeling a strange duality—like he knew exactly what each rune and symbol did, yet the device still felt foreign in his hands, an artifact from another world.
Gideon wondered, who this Sylvia Ashborne individual was? From Elara’s message, they seemed to know each other at least professionally. Elara walked the Earth hundreds of years before he was even a concept, perhaps this person was Elara’s intricate time-spanning network of associates. Reviewing his knowledge, at least what little he knew, outside of Zeelandia, a Hexlink is an utmost rarity, only held by those most attuned to magic - and/or possessing an exorbitant amount of wealth to afford one. To add to the matter, a Hexlink craftsman, would be at least a mage of the utmost prestige in both technical knowledge and arcane prowess - not somebody one can meet willy-nilly. In Germany alone, mages were heavily regulated under the federal government and none to his knowledge would even come close to the level of skill possessed by the makers of such technology. Blending both science and magic into a handheld device. But then again, as Arthur C. Clarke once said, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
Truthfully, Gideon was rather hesitant to follow through with Elara’s message right then since he felt unready to hold extended conversations with this individual. But, he shan’t sully her last wish with his own grief. His decision was made. He shifted through the options, each movement precise despite the hesitation lingering in his chest. He found Sylvia’s name - thankfully written in Latin alphabet - the arcane script rippling across the surface as he focused on it, letting the magic flow through his mind and into the device. Instead of a typical screen, the Hexlink’s runes projected a shimmering, three-dimensional interface above its surface—like a floating panel made of softly glowing blue light.
The magical energy hummed as it connected, and after a moment, the optics flared out once again to reveal Sylvia’s image. The projection coalesced into a life-sized, translucent figure hovering above the Hexlink, rendering her in intricate detail—every strand of her long, wavy, auburn hair catching the ambient light, her eyes a rich, dark teal that gleamed with curiosity. Her expression softened into a wide smile when she saw him, her features framed by the soft, diffused glow of the runes around her.
“Who’s this, then?” Sylvia’s voice carried across the space between them, clear and warm, her New Zealand accent giving her words a gentle, rhythmic cadence. Her image wavered slightly in the projection, as if she were standing amidst an unseen breeze. Gideon’s breath hitched at the sight of her, the familiarity catching him off guard even as the magical projection made it feel surreal.
He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice, but also coughing as he found his throat to be parched. “ Ja ... it’s me, Gideon Vogt.” he managed, his words tinged with a German lilt, each syllable clipped and precise. He felt the weight of the connection, the unspoken history between them that now stretched across the arcane frequencies. Sylvia’s face lit up with recognition, her smile growing even warmer as she clasped her hands together.
“Well, look at that—Gideon Vogt, finally using that Hexlink of yours,” she teased, her tone gentle yet tinged with amusement. “I was startin’ to think you’d never figure it out. Took you long enough, mate.”
He forced a small, awkward smile, his fingers twitching against the Hexlink’s smooth surface. “ Ja , well... I had a bit of help. Your manual really did the job for me.” he said, gesturing vaguely to his head where the runic knowledge still buzzed faintly, like a half-remembered dream.
Sylvia’s eyes softened, and she chuckled, a sound that seemed to echo around the room despite the distance between them. “I hope the effects aren’t too much on you, Zeelandian magic tends to affect outsiders more...substantially. How do you like it, then? The Hexlink. Think we did alright, eh? Elara practically drove me mad with it— ‘Sylvia, it has to be practically indestructible,’ and ‘Sylvia, make sure it’s sleek, but it can’t draw too much attention!’ ” Sylvia chuckled softly, the exasperation in her voice softened by clear affection. “She wasn’t going to settle for anything less than perfect.”
Gideon can’t help but to chuckle endearingly, that does sound a lot like Elara. He glanced down at the device in his hands, the runes casting faint patterns over his palms. He could feel the weight of his team’s presence in every etched line, every softly glowing symbol. “It’s... more than I deserved,” he admitted quietly, his voice taking on a rougher edge. “You all put so much into this. I... appreciate it. Really.”
Sylvia’s expression shifted slightly, becoming more thoughtful. The light of the runes around her seemed to flicker as if sensing her change in mood. “I’m glad you feel that way, Gideon. Elara wanted it to be something special, something you could carry with you—no matter where you ended up.” She paused, a gentle curiosity slipping into her tone. “Speaking of which, how is she? Elara? Still fussing over every little detail, I bet?”
The question struck him like a physical blow, and for a moment, Gideon couldn’t find the words. His hands balled into fists as he struggled to maintain his composure. He saw Sylvia’s smile falter, her expression growing puzzled at his silence.
“She’s... gone, Sylvia,” he finally choked out, his voice cracking on the words. “We lost her. On our last mission.” His eyes stung, and he blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall as he faced the projection, her image wavering slightly as if reacting to his pain.
Sylvia’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she looked as if the very ground beneath her had vanished. Her face blanched, the usual warmth in her expression replaced by a sharp, raw hurt. “Gone...?” The word came out barely more than a breath, as if she couldn’t quite bring herself to accept it. She shook her head slowly, her features twisting with disbelief. “But... how? What happened, Gideon?”
He forced himself to speak, the words tumbling out in a jagged rush. “Counter sniper. We thought... We thought we had the area covered, but they got her. Right through the scope and into her head.” His voice broke, and he pressed his free hand against his mouth, trying to hold back the wave of grief that surged yet again. “She didn’t even... she didn’t even have a chance.”
Sylvia’s face crumpled, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, as if trying to physically hold back her reaction. Tears welled in her eyes, and for a moment, the glow of the runes around her projection dimmed, flickering like a dying flame. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion. “Gideon... I—I'm so, so sorry.” She paused, visibly struggling to regain her composure, but there was a new urgency in her eyes. “I need to see her grave. I need to pay my respects, in person. She deserves that much.”
Gideon shook his head, his breath hitching as he tried to regain some semblance of control. “Sylvia, you don’t have to—”
But she cut him off, her tone firm, unwavering despite the tremor in her voice. “No, I really do, Gideon. Elara... she wasn’t just a friend—she was like family to me.” Sylvia’s voice wavered slightly, but the determination behind it remained unyielding. “I need to see her grave, to pay my respects in person. I can’t just sit here, knowing what you’re going through, and do nothing.”
She paused, “Besides, if Elara adored you enough to gift you a Hexlink, that tells me everything I need to know about what you meant to her. And what she hoped you’d mean to me too.” Her voice softened as she added, almost as an afterthought, “She always had a way of seeing the good in people.”
The projection began to waver, the arcane runes around her shifting and realigning as she prepared to cast her teleportation spell. Her last words came through the haze of magic, softer now, but filled with a fierce tenderness that made Gideon’s chest ache. “Hang in there, Gideon. I’m on my way.”
And then, with a final flare of light, her image dissolved, leaving Gideon alone in the dim, quiet room. The Hexlink deactivating as the communication ended. The weight of what had just happened settled over him, but this time, it wasn’t quite so crushing. He stared down at the Hexlink in his hands, feeling a small spark of warmth amidst the cold ache of grief.
For the first time in a long while, he felt like he might just be able to take a step forward—one small step, toward whatever came next.