We eventually arrived in London, following a very long break. It felt like a much longer time than just a couple of hours. We managed to flee the aircraft, searching for a discreet location to teleport without attracting any attention.

"This location is definitely not suitable for any kind of magical transportation," Malachi remarked.

"Should we head to the front of the airport?" Nikki asked. "It's possible that we can transport through the group using some sort of magical means."

"That sounds risky," September cautioned. "Let's consider taking a taxi to our destination and then proceed with our plans."Remember, we are striving to be as cautious as possible. We're about to make our move and leave without attracting any attention. We're striving to have the ban overturned so that we can graduate.

"High risk, high reward," Tisiah said. "Splendous." We made our way through the airport terminal, and descended in the elevator to the automated doors leading outside.

A crowd of people with their bags and belongings were casually walking down the street as we looked around, hoping to spot a taxi or some form of transportation. However, despite the circumstances, there was nobody in sight.

Perhaps there was a lack of vigilance or oversight that led to a shortage of lookouts.

"We can transport instantly," I said. "There seems to be a lack of people in this area." As the others gestured and September quietly spoke, she retrieved her wand and closed her eyes.

After a considerable amount of time, we found ourselves mysteriously transported to a place covered in plain grass. Truly, just mere grass. "Is this the location?" Malachi asked, perplexed and confused, as he scratched his head.

"That's right, this is the BMO base," she said. "We simply have to track down how to get in, there's no entrance or section or anything. It's underground."

While she was speaking, I noticed a concealed wire running beneath the ground, making its way across the field. "Hey everyone, I just noticed some wire over there. Maybe we can follow it and find a way to get in," I suggested. "Interesting," Malachi murmured to himself, scrubbing his hands.

September and I eagerly traced the wire across the field, until we stumbled upon a hidden entrance in the ground. Without hesitation, we ventured inside. "Hey everyone!" I called out to the others who were slowly trailing behind us. "We must find a solution to gain entry as soon as possible."

We quickly descended the steps and were greeted by a maze of wires protruding from the walls. "Wow, what do they require in order to oversee this entire area, we haven't even entered the core region," Nikki remarked.

"Maybe it's some kind of secret stronghold," Tisiah suggested.

"It must be," I replied. "If it wasn't, why would they have placed the entrance so far from the main area?" While taking a leisurely walk, we came across a pair of guards who seemed to be catching their breath, which caused a slight sense of unease.

"Stop!" one of them shouted.

"Apologies," I muttered, trying to hide my unease. "We are representatives from the TSA in the US, and we have been invited to be here."

The gatekeeper motioned for the individual to come along, saying, "Please, follow me."

We trailed behind him, and before long, we found ourselves in a room with a computer that was hooked up to the internet.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"What is this place?" Malachi asked.

"This is the war room," the gatekeeper declared. "Here, you have access to the framework." He provided us with a pair of gloves and a headset. "You all can sign in as well."

"Oh," I said, slipping on the gloves and securing the headset. "Thank you." I took a seat in front of the computer and logged in, with everyone else patiently waiting behind me. It was surprisingly easy to do, as the password was conveniently located right under the keyboard. "Let's uncover what lies behind here," I remarked.

"Okay," Malachi replied.

"It appears that the most recent login occurred yesterday at 4:00 pm," I stated. "Seems like someone was being productive." After gaining access to the computer, I noticed a file labeled "Meeting."4 pm. "Click that," September instructed.

A screen appeared, displaying a man wearing glasses and a white coat. He sat calmly in his seat, seemingly unfazed as more men entered the room and found their places.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, scanning the room with his eyes. "We're patiently anticipating the arrival of one more individual."

Suddenly, someone walked in and a wave of animosity and repulsion washed over us. It was Demeitrus Rocke.

"Hello, everyone," he said. "It's been quite some time since our last encounter, hasn't it?" Now, I trust that this meeting is being documented. I'm confident you recall our previous interactions, but let's formalize our relationship. I'm Demeitrus Rocke, or Mr. Rocke as you all know me. Now, you're aware of our plan to apprehend Dr. Jones in the hopes of locating the weapon."

"Weapon?" we all murmured, our eyes fixed on the clip.

"What is this weapon called?" inquired one of them. Rocke let out a small laugh. "It's a cloning device called the Armonk," he said. We are currently unaware of its location, but we anticipate discovering it in the near future. Dr. Jones was one of the scientists involved in the project, and it is crucial that we locate him to obtain information about its whereabouts. I believe he can be easily persuaded."

Then, out of nowhere, he locked eyes with the camera, as if he was addressing us directly. "Now I understand that you YMPA kids may be tuning in, but rest assured, we were fully prepared for your arrival. I'm certain my guards already allowed you to enter solely for the purpose of viewing this message.

I felt a sudden chill as my heart skipped a beat, and I glanced over my shoulder to find two guards aiming their guns in our direction.

"This is unbelievable," I murmured to myself. We glanced around, noticing a significant increase in the number of TSA guards positioned discreetly in the background. The clip concluded just as they prepared their firearms. "Hands in the air!" one of them yelled.

I suddenly found myself facing the barrel of a firearm. "Raise your hands!" another guard commanded.

"Hold on a moment," I interjected. "Now it appears that you have a rather low opinion of our capabilities." I rose to my feet, my hands still raised. "And you thought we'd just hand it over without putting up a struggle."

The guard sternly commanded me to stay still and proceeded to fire a shot into my leg. I experienced a searing sensation in my leg, and a tear escaped my eye. I tumbled to the floor, desperately attempting to stifle any cries of pain. I sensed the life force draining from me, and I realized my fate was sealed.

Out of nowhere, a loud bang echoed through the air, and the security guard collapsed onto the ground. All of a sudden, a disturbance erupted behind me, leaving me bewildered about the cause. However, the urgency in Malachi's voice as he shouted, "Quick, let's get out of here!" was impossible to ignore.

I attempted to rise, yet my leg seared with an intensified agony, rendering me unable to find my footing. Out of nowhere, Malachi extended his hand towards me, and I instinctively clasped it, sensing the comforting warmth of his touch.

"Hurry up, we need to leave," he urged. Without hesitation, we swiftly navigated through the command center before bursting into the hallway. We sprinted and continued sprinting until we stumbled upon an elevator. As we stepped inside, I could feel the comforting warmth of Malachi's hand, and I clung to it tightly.

It seems like everything was carefully orchestrated!

Out of nowhere, September's radio flickered to life, and the unmistakable voice of Mr. Drails filled the air. "What on earth are you all doing?!" he exclaimed. "Didn't I already remove you all from this mission?" September couldn't bring herself to speak, and she simply shook her head.

"Well, I'll be there, and once I bring you guys to the school, you'll have a lot of explaining to do," he stated, and then he ended the conversation. "Oh, no," she whispered, and she swiftly pressed the button to shut the doors.

"What options do we have? How did he manage to locate us?" I inquired.

"Doesn't matter," Malachi replied. "He simply refuses to acknowledge our presence before he transports us back to the school once more.