Markus and Wallace stepped through the glowing orange gate, feeling a brief, disorienting jolt as they were instantly teleported from the quaint, cobblestone streets of Applecrest to the very heart of A.E.G.I.S’s Alpha Facility. The transition was as shocking as it was immediate—a seamless shift from rustic, ivy-clad cottages and the ancient apple tree that whispered of simpler times to a realm of high-tech sophistication hidden deep beneath the earth.
Deep beneath the surface, the Alpha Facility sprawled like a hidden metropolis—a labyrinth of sleek, modern architecture that stood in stark contrast to the pastoral charm of the world above. Polished chrome and reinforced tempered glass lined the expansive corridors, reflecting soft ambient lighting that bathed everything in an almost ethereal glow, as if the facility itself were alive with secret purpose.
Markus and Wallace moved steadily through the corridors. Wallace cradled Iris in his arms—she slept peacefully, unaware of the perilous destiny that loomed ahead. The omnipresent A.E.G.I.S. logo, a formidable shield emblazoned with an all-seeing eye and flanked by twin crossed knives, was displayed everywhere. Above the emblem, the bold letters "A.E.G.I.S." asserted authority, while below, the motto “Slay the night, to save the day” served as both a battle cry and a promise.
Wallace guided Markus to his office. With a smooth swipe of his key card, the heavy door slid open to reveal a chaotic workspace. In stark contrast to the pristine corridors, the office was cluttered with an array of files, their disorganized stacks and scattered papers betraying an urgency that permeated even the most orderly of places. These files—filled with detailed analyses of promising students, meticulous descriptions of rare artifacts, and records of the dangerous creatures contained within the facility—spoke of a hidden world behind the polished facade.
Markus paused, his gaze lingering on the assortment of documents. One file in particular caught his eye, it detailed the case of a student with the extraordinary ability of Cryokinesis. The report described how she had been found homeless, shivering on the freezing streets, only to rise from obscurity and become the top student in her class within a year.
“What a nostalgic story,” Markus murmured to himself, thinking back to his own depressing days before joining A.E.G.I.S.
“I know this place is a mess, but don't go snooping through my files,” Wallace said, setting Iris down gently on a chair.
“You always complain about my room being a mess, yet look at this place,” Markus said mockingly, glancing around at the scattered papers and messy stacks of books.
“Well, Jonathan won't hire any more staff, so I have to take care of all this by myself. The three of us might be of equal rank, but since that bastard runs this facility, he’s constantly on a power trip,” Wallace complained, his frustration evident in his furrowed brow and tightly clenched fist.
“You're not wrong, but there's nothing we can do. This is his domain,” Markus replied with a resigned sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly.
“Let’s hurry this along—I still have to file all the reports on the new Awakened discovered this year,” Wallace sighed, glancing at the wall clock with a furrowed brow. “I’m cutting it dangerously close with this last report.”
Markus leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “Blame the Bookkeeper for this last-minute mission. He always seems to drop these surprises on us.”
Wallace shook his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips despite the stress. “It’s good we took it, though. This student is far more significant than we were led to believe.”
Grinning mischievously, Markus added, “I’ll treat you to a drink later tonight.”
Wallace’s expression softened into a wry smirk as he replied, “What’s the point? We Awakened can’t even get drunk.”
Markus chuckled, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Not true. I managed to borrow some of Octavian’s special alcohol. I still don’t know how the bastard does it, but it’s potent enough to knock us off our feet.”
With a shake of his head, Wallace murmured, “There’s a reason none of our coworkers like you, you know.”
Markus only grinned wider, the tension in the room momentarily giving way to lighthearted camaraderie as they returned to their work, their banter a brief respite from the weight of their responsibilities.
Wallace gently shook Iris awake, her eyelids fluttering open as she began to regain consciousness. She blinked, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar room before settling on the two men in front of her.
“W-where am I? Who are you people? Get away, you creepy doctor!” Iris exclaimed, her voice trembling with fear as tears gradually built in her eyes.
“C-creepy? Markus, do I look creepy?” Wallace asked, suddenly self-conscious, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
“It’s mainly the bags under your eyes and your perpetually mopey personality that drive everyone away,” Markus quipped, his tone teasing and merciless as a smirk played on his lips.
Wallace’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Oh, please—your only girlfriend is now ranked fourth on A.E.G.I.S.’s priority kill list,” he shot back, his voice laced with exasperation.
Markus arched an eyebrow. “At least I’ve had a girlfriend, unlike you. You’ve been single your entire life.”
Wallace punched the air in frustration, then kicked his shin. “Jerk,” he grumbled, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as their banter filled the quiet workspace with familiar, if rough-edged, camaraderie.
“W-where am I, where are my parents?” Iris asked, her voice cracking as tears began to fall from her eyes, her small frame shaking with sobs.
“Let's forget about that for now and move on to the main reason you’ve been brought here. We believe you have superpowers,” Markus said in a cheery voice, clearly trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
“Superpowers? What are you talking about? There's no way those exist,” Iris said, her skepticism evident despite her tear-streaked face, her brows furrowing in confusion.
“Most kids get excited after we tell them they may have an ability,” Wallace whispered to Markus, glancing at Iris’s disbelieving expression.
“It’s best if we just show you,” Markus said as he distorted the space around himself and became invisible, his form shimmering and then disappearing completely.
Iris's face quickly filled with shock and awe as she watched the phenomenon unfold before her eyes, her mouth falling open in amazement. “There’s the excitement,” Wallace chuckled to himself, a small smile forming across his mouth
“Wait, so I can do that too?” Iris asked, her voice growing animated with newfound enthusiasm as the remnants of fear melted away into excitement.
Markus reappeared from the shadows, his form gradually solidifying before her eyes. “We’re not entirely sure what your ability is yet,” he explained, his tone both encouraging and measured.
Eyes wide with curiosity, Iris tilted her head and asked, “What about you, Mr. Creepy Doctor? What’s your power?”
Wallace winced slightly at the nickname, feeling as though he’d been struck by an arrow. “My ability is healing,” he replied, his voice heavy with resignation. “I can mend any wound.”
Though his answer carried a note of defeat, there was an underlying warmth—a quiet pride in his gift—amid the self-deprecating humor of the moment.
“Based on my analysis, you haven't actually awakened to your ability yet, but we’ve developed a catalyst to force your body to awaken,” Wallace commented, his tone shifting to one of clinical detachment as he explained the procedure.
“Before we do anything, we should take her to a different room. If there's a flare-up, it would be bad if she accidentally destroys all the research here,” Markus suggested, glancing around at the delicate equipment and sensitive files.
Wallace nodded, grabbing a briefcase from the floor and motioning for Iris to follow them. They made their way through the facility's labyrinthine corridors until they reached an empty gymnasium. The space was vast, with high ceilings and reinforced walls, perfect for containing any unexpected outbursts of power.
“If you could do me a big favor and close your eyes, here I'll even give you a lollipop, just focus on that,” Wallace said, holding out a piece of candy, his tone almost playful.
“My mom said not to take candy from strangers. And I definitely shouldn’t take it from creepy old guys,” Iris replied with a huff, crossing her arms and glaring at Wallace.
Wallace felt as if he’d been struck by a comically oversized arrow labeled “creepy.” His expression deepened into one of defeat, his shoulders slumping further under the weight of her remark.
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“I’m only twenty-six, you know,” Wallace protested softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. “I’m not that old—and I’m the younger of the two of us, too.”
Markus stepped forward with a playful grin and clapped Wallace on the back. “There, there, brother. Don’t listen to them… or grandpa, for that matter,” he teased warmly.
Wallace shot Markus a glare, his frustration mingling with affection. “You’re the reason I have a few gray hairs already,” he muttered, half-smiling despite himself as the banter continued to lighten the mood.
“I wanted to be nice, but fine, so be it. To awaken your abilities, we have to inject you with this needle. I was just going to poke you with it the moment you closed your eyes and use my ability to constantly heal you so you didn’t feel a thing. But here we are,” Wallace sighed, pulling the syringe out of his briefcase. His tone was now resigned.
“I’ll just close my eyes,” Iris said, deathly afraid of needles, her voice trembling as she shut her eyes tightly.
Wallace’s green aura enveloped Iris’s arm as he injected her with the syringe. She didn’t feel a thing as he administered the glowing yellow liquid. Suddenly, an intense aura exploded around her, knocking Wallace and Markus back. The aura was a swirling mixture of crimson and black, with small bolts of lightning crackling from the black portions. The colors clashed violently, each trying to dominate the other until they eventually began to blend into a harmonious, yet intense, fusion.
Both Markus and Wallace looked on in amazement, this being their first time encountering someone whose awakening was so powerful. Even the one they believed could become a prodigy amongst the Awakened, found only a week ago, paled in comparison to what they were witnessing.
As the aura settled, Iris stood in the center of the gymnasium, her eyes glowing with the same intense colors that had surrounded her. The surrounding air buzzed with raw energy, making the hair on Markus and Wallace’s arms stand on end.
“So many troublesome new students we’ve acquired this year,” Wallace sighed to himself, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Um, what do I do now?” Iris asked nervously, glancing around the gymnasium as if the answers might be written on the walls.
“You should now be able to sense an intangible energy circling you. We call this power aura. Try to condense the aura into your palm. We’re not sure what your ability is just yet, so we’ll have to try various methods,” Wallace explained, his voice calm and instructional.
Iris did as he said, focusing intently as the energy in the air violently became drawn to her. The aura condensed into her palm, forming a small yet brilliant flame. It was a beautiful golden color that shone brighter than any pirate's treasure. The heat generated from it was immense, as Wallace and Markus could feel it from where they were standing.
“F-fire?” Iris said, staring blankly at the flame. Memories from that night flooded her head, and she began to cry. The flame, in response, violently exploded, knocking Markus and Wallace back once more as it spread throughout the room.
“Of course, the girl who just obtained a fear of fire gains a fire ability. Just my luck. It's a good thing I requested we get fire-proof uniforms,” Wallace muttered to himself, shaking his head.
“Markus, I'll try to calm her down. Go see if we have any Awakened with hydrokinesis here,” Wallace commanded, his voice urgent yet steady, resonating with the gravity of the situation.
Markus quickly ran off, fully trusting his brother as he went to look for assistance. He sprinted through the facility's maze-like corridors, his mind racing with thoughts of how to help Iris and wondering who among the Awakened present in the facility might possess the needed water-manipulating abilities.
Meanwhile, Wallace approached Iris with the caution of a man facing a wild beast. His aura shimmered with a soothing green light, around his body, an attempt to heal himself, even as the frenzied flames scorched him. The fire seemed almost sentient, burning away any attempts at healing before they could take effect, targeting his aura before searing his skin.
“What kind of ability is this? I've never seen a pyrokinetic do this before,” Wallace muttered, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he studied the malevolent flames. They danced with a life of their own, crackling and roaring as they encircled Iris.
“Get away! Get away! Get away! Get away! I hate it, I hate these flames, get away from me!” Iris shouted, her voice cracking with hysteria. Her eyes were wide with terror, reflecting the surrounding inferno.
“Great, her ability hinges on her emotions. I need to calm her down now,” Wallace thought, his eyes hardening with steely resolve as his features set into a mask of determination. The surrounding flames roared louder, their intensity magnifying as searing heat blistered his skin with every agonizing step. The very air shimmered with the relentless fury of the inferno, each footfall a trial by fire.
Despite the pain, Wallace pressed forward, his teeth gritted against the relentless fire. His glove had been burned away, revealing a tattoo of a clock on his hand, the hands frozen at ten o'clock. Yet despite the pain towards Wallace, the flames spared Iris, leaving her clothes and skin unscathed amidst the chaos.
“Iris, I need you to calm down—please! I can’t hold out in these flames much longer!” Wallace shouted, his voice cracking as it struggled to cut through the roaring inferno. The heat was unbearable, each gust of fire and ash a reminder of the peril they faced.
“I—why… why is this my power? Why fire?” Iris sobbed, her words breaking under the weight of sorrow. Tears streamed down her cheeks, only to evaporate instantly in the superheated air, vanishing like whispers of a lost past.
Her voice trembled as she continued, “Tell me, what happened to my parents… did they… to the fire?” She trailed off, unable to complete her sentence as the flames around her surged violently, echoing the turmoil within her.
Wallace’s expression softened with painful honesty. “Yes, your parents are dead. The fire that night burned your house down and took their lives. It was a pyrokinetic ability that sparked those flames,” he said quietly, each word heavy with regret.
“Ability?” Iris’s voice quivered with disbelief and horror. “Did…I cause the fire that night…did I…kill them?” Her anguish was palpable, and as her emotions spiraled, the flames around her grew even fiercer, lashing out with renewed fury and sending Wallace stumbling back as the inferno roared louder.
“It wasn’t you, I promise—please, Iris, calm down,” Wallace pleaded desperately, inching closer despite the searing heat that threatened to tear him apart. His heart pounded with both fear and determination, knowing that her control was slipping away with every anguished cry.
“I don’t believe you,” she cried, her voice rising in a chorus of despair. “You’re lying—liar, liar, liar! That’s why the flames didn’t hurt me…that’s the reason, isn’t it? It must have been my ability—my curse—that let me survive that night. It’s all my fault!” Her words echoed in the smoky chaos, as if each accusation fanned the flames even further, consuming her in a maelstrom of guilt and sorrow.
In that desperate moment, the inferno seemed to mirror her inner torment—a wild, untamable blaze fueled by loss and regret, leaving both Iris and Wallace to confront the burning truth of her past.
“I know you're scared, but I’ll save you—just as I did the last time you were surrounded by flames, I’ll do it again,” Wallace reassured her, his voice softening even as urgency radiated in every word. Gradually, the surrounding inferno began to subside, allowing a momentary respite during which he could tend to his wounds, though his healing wasn't as swift as it usually was. His aura pulsed in defiance against the lingering heat as he inched closer.
“I was there that night—I saw everything. It wasn’t your fault. I promise, please believe me. Please, choose to trust me,” Wallace yelled, his voice echoing against the roar of diminishing flames.
Iris’s eyes brimmed with terror and uncertainty as she sobbed, “What…what if my flames hurt everyone, like they’re hurting you now?”
Wallace knelt down, his gaze locking onto hers with unyielding determination. “I’ll help you control your fire. I promise you, it will never be able to get close enough to hurt what you love. It will never burn away the things you care for again.”
Now standing just inches from her, Wallace reached out, his eyes searching hers for the smallest sign of trust. “Please, choose to trust me—I will protect you no matter what,” he vowed, his tone both tender and resolute.
“Do you promise?” Iris whispered, her voice trembling as she extended her pinkie—a small, innocent gesture amidst the chaos of the dying inferno. For the first time, her tears didn’t vanish into the heated air; instead, they formed glistening trails down her cheeks.
With a gentle smile, Wallace entwined his pinkie with hers. In that instant, the flames seemed to recede completely, as if repelled by the strength of their connection. His warm, reassuring smile lit up his face as he whispered, “I promise.”
Wallace wrapped his arms around Iris in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth dispelling the lingering chill of fear. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, “I promise you, no harm will come to you.”
In his arms, Iris’s sobs subsided into quiet, grateful tears. “Thank you… Wallace,” she whispered, her voice trembling with relief and lingering sorrow.
A tender smile spread across Wallace’s face as he held her close, a subtle spark of amusement in his eyes at the thought that, in this moment of vulnerability, he wasn’t being called the “creepy doctor.” His quiet reassurance and unwavering embrace spoke volumes—a promise of safety and a bond that would shield them from the darkness beyond.
Just then, Markus burst into the room, a woman following closely behind. She wore a crisp suit with a striking red tie, her short curly hair a vivid blue that contrasted with her sharp green eyes. A small ring adorned her finger, and a faint scar marked the corner of her mouth, hinting at past battles.
“Looks like you were able to calm her down. Sorry for wasting your time, Mia,” Markus apologized, slightly out of breath.
“It's perfectly fine. I'd rather have my time wasted than not be here when there's an emergency,” Mia replied in a calm, composed voice, her demeanor exuding professionalism.
“Anyway, Iris, once classes start, this will be your teacher, Mrs. Stone,” Markus introduced, but his voice trailed off as he noticed Iris had passed out, her body finally succumbing to exhaustion.
“Markus, can you bring her to her dorm room? I need to finish up the last bit of paperwork and hand it over to Jonathan. Mia, could you help me out with the rest of the paperwork, as all that is left is for your class?” Wallace requested, his voice regaining its usual authority.
“Sure, just don't expect me to go into his office. Last time I did, his plants bit me,” Mia complained, a hint of exasperation in her tone.
“That's because you tried asking for a raise,” Wallace responded with a chuckle.
The two of them began to write up the final reports, the scratching of pens filling the room as Wallace gathered all seven reports for Mia's classroom. With a sigh, he made his way to Jonathan's office, mentally preparing for the encounter ahead.
Wallace entered Jonathan's office and was immediately greeted by a vibrant indoor garden. Sunlight trickled through a small skylight, casting a gentle glow over the room. Bioluminescent plants illuminated the space, their soft, otherworldly light mingling with the natural sunbeams. The floor was carpeted with lush grass and monstrous Venus flytraps, they suddenly turned their heads, their predatory gaze fixed on Wallace as he made his way inside. At the center of this verdant sanctuary stood a white lawn table with two matching chairs. A bouquet of various flowers was resting on the table. Seated in one of the chairs was a man sipping tea. He was fairly tall, with green hair that cascaded like vines down his head. This organic appearance was starkly contrasted by his cold, piercing purple eyes and a small, recently shaven beard. He wore a crisp white shirt beneath a sleek black vest, and his right hand was encased in a green glove, completing his intriguing and somewhat enigmatic look.