"Headquarters' whereabouts are confidential. Other than the Director, they're known only to our Risk Management's Department Manager and Rank 2 Agents," Grace explained the necessity for the Yastrebov Pogled and Nakizawasābisu groups. "I'm not even sure there's a breathing pilot over there. We won't be getting any answers from her," she gestured towards their flight attendant for the mission, a young woman named Ava.
Ava nodded in acknowledgment, checked her watch, and approached the two. "Ma'am, Sir, in eight minutes, we will land at Edinburgh Airport. Once there, the plane will remain in a private hangar until you notify us of your desired departure. Is there anything else I can assist you with before we land?"
"No, thank you," Michael smiled.
"No," Grace echoed his sentiment.
"I hope this flight has been comfortable. Please enjoy your stay and return safely on our behalf."
Eight minutes later, Grace and Michael disembarked from the private plane into the same hangar where it would be parked until the mission's completion. Waiting for them in the hangar was a black Nissan Fuga with tinted windows, accompanied by a man in his twenties dressed in a black suit and white gloves.
"Welcome, Sir and Ma'am, to the Nakizawasābisu group. My name is Mibuki Kurosaki, and I will be your chauffeur for this trip," Kurosaki greeted with a bow.
"Kurosaki-san, I'm Agent Vasquez, and this is Agent Mir. Please take us to Berwick as swiftly as legally permitted," Grace instructed.
"Certainly, I'll ensure we arrive in under an hour," Kurosaki replied as he opened the doors to the passenger seats. Besides their personal belongings, neither had luggage requiring trunk space.
…
A short while ago, back at the Material Magick Bureau's Headquarters...
"Low Rank 0 missions aren't worth the time spent packing..." Grace waved a finger at Michael, who suddenly felt refreshed by her words. "My first purchase at the Exchange Center," she said with amusement, enjoying his surprised reaction.
It was actually the Spell "Clean"!
"It has its limits, though, especially with magical substances. But there were days in my service when I could only dream of something like this."
At the moment of their conversation, just before boarding the private plane, Michael couldn't help but agree with Grace that the Spell was quite remarkable, even if it didn't meet the qualifications to be termed an "Ability". He mentally noted to purchase it himself. While it might seem like a waste of a Merit Point, considering his plans to labor tirelessly until reaching his goal, having a quick means to feel refreshed with a mint flavor would serve him well in recharging.
…
"Kurosaki-san, could you please roll down the windows?" Grace requested.
"You didn't have to..." Michael began, touched by her consideration.
"Is this your first time in the English/Scottish countryside?" Grace inquired.
"First time abroad... and in a countryside," Michael admitted.
"A city boy?" Grace guessed.
"Born and raised," Michael confirmed, stealing a glance outside the window. He relished the view and the scents carried on the late-hour breeze. His senses felt heightened, and although he wasn't entirely clear if every aspect of his being was augmented by 340 Magick Ions or if there was some other division across his Physique that he had yet to understand, everything felt remarkably pleasant at that moment.
Grace parted her lips, as if about to speak, but then closed her mouth, choosing silence, and smiled for the remainder of the ride.
…
Upon their arrival in Berwick and exiting the black Nissan Fuga, Grace said, "If you're so captivated by it, consider buying a holiday home here. Save your earnings from missions, and the Bureau will handle all the paperwork. You can request a change in lodging under 'Requests'."
Michael remained silent.
As they crossed the ancient stone bridge spanning the River Tweed, a sense of stepping back in time engulfed them. Berwick-upon-Tweed unfolded before their eyes like a meticulously preserved page from history's annals.
Narrow cobblestone streets wound through the town, lined with timber-framed houses that leaned in, sharing the secrets of centuries past. The inviting scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the briny sea breeze, blending tradition with coastal charm.
Wandering through this medieval labyrinth, they couldn't shake the weight of history. Weathered walls bore witness to ancient conflicts, while turrets and battlements offered views of a serene landscape.
During the daytime, the cries of seagulls fill the air, blending with the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide. The harbor bustles with life as fishermen tend to their nets, and tales of legendary sea creatures dance in conversation.
As twilight descended, gas lamps bathed the surroundings in a warm, amber glow. In the distance, the lighthouse sent its guiding beam across the sea. Berwick-upon-Tweed unfolded like a living novel, where past and present intertwined, beckoning them to become part of its timeless narrative.
"Perfect. It's 20:20. The disappearing act will soon begin if they haven't stopped. I'll reach out to Agent Mitchell to arrange a new meeting place," Grace said, swiftly finding Agent Mitchell in her Contacts – his presence among her Contact would remain temporary until the mission's end, unless she decided to save it permanently, a process that would require approval from HR at both HQ and EB.
Behind Grace and Michael, Kurosaki had already departed with a similar farewell to the one given by Ava. If Grace hadn't requested the favor for her rookie Partner, asking to be dropped off the moment they arrived in Berwick so he could immerse himself in his first experience abroad – excluding the undisclosed location of HQ – the Nakizawasābisu chauffeur would have taken them to their hotel, where Agent Mitchell awaited their arrival.
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Michael matched Grace's hurried steps, though she walked faster than he could run just days ago. However, her movements didn't seem rushed; there was a natural grace to her stride that he struggled to mimic. Attempting to keep pace, he found himself powerwalking rather than moving with the same elegance as Grace.
"The streets are starting to empty. People probably stopped coming out at night due to the disappearances. Agent Mitchell didn't mention a curfew," Grace observed. "Fun time's over," she added, casting a quick glance at Michael before continuing, "From now on, you need to study not only how I work, but also how I handle Magick. This is your opportunity since there aren't many people around. Don't use force when you move your legs. The Bureau refers to them as Mentality and Build, your Physique and Psyche counterparts. They need to be in sync for enhanced movement to appear natural. Try to be careful not to stumble."
Michael attempted to follow her instructions. 'It's... not that hard. Is it because Physique and Psyche have similar values? Regardless, she warned me not to stumble, meaning it's not supposed to be smooth on the first try, and I don't want to stand out... even if there isn't much to show off for my stats.'
His movements grew increasingly hectic, his legs crisscrossing a couple of times. Despite Grace's affirmations that he was improving, Michael gradually stopped pretending as they neared the historic town hall of Berwick.
A man in an MMB suit, similar to Michael's but with rolled sleeves and no jacket, along with a fedora, greeted them at the entrance.
"Agent Vasquez, Agent Mir, good to meet you in person," Agent Finlay Mitchell greeted with an English accent.
"Agent Mitchell," Grace responded with a handshake.
"Hello," Michael echoed, shaking his hand. He couldn't help but find the thought of them greeting each other as "Agent", "Agent", "Agent" with a slight nod amusing.
"Come, I know a pub that's still open. We can sit and talk there until 22:00," Agent Mitchell suggested.
Grace agreed, and Michael followed suit.
Fifteen minutes later, the two were seated at a corner table while Agent Mitchell returned from the counter with three tall glasses of beer. For a few moments, the trio sat in silence.
"Weird," Michael thought, unsure if the gloomy atmosphere he sensed stemmed from the side glares they received from the few local patrons or from some kind of Magick affecting the town. "This eerily feels like a scene from a movie."
"Uncomfortable?" Agent Mitchell noticed Michael's subtle reaction. "They're good people who are simply anxious and trying not to show it. Our presence makes it difficult. By the way, Agent Mir, is this your first time out in the field?"
"Is there anything new since your report?" Grace interjected, asserting her leadership of the mission.
Agent Mitchell didn't press further with his question, acknowledging Grace's authority. He took a sip of his drink before responding, "I attempted to find evidence of Magick, but I lacked the skill to discern its distant signatures. To uncover clues, I conducted thorough investigations at the spots where people reappeared. However, it proved challenging as most of these places were their own homes. People were hesitant to grant access to a stranger claiming government affiliation but acting independently, without the presence of their trusted local law enforcement or a warrant to justify entry."
"And?" Grace prompted, eager for more information.
"Since I delivered my initial report, I managed to find a probable route and deduced that each case has not two, but three locations. The first location is the place of disappearance. The third location is where they reappear. Between them, the second location is where they disappear to," Agent Mitchell explained, taking out a folded map from a pocket at the back of his trousers and spreading it on the table.
The map was marked with three colors and numbers one to seven. Each number shared a set of the three colors.
"Blue is for the first location, green is for the second, and red is for the third," Michael remarked, finding it self-explanatory on the map.
"Indeed," Agent Mitchell confirmed.
"Have you been to the village of Spittal?" Grace inquired.
Agent Mitchell nodded. "At first, I also suspected Magick related to the ghostly piper. It fits perfectly with the situation in Berwick, and the two are close to each other. However, I failed to find proof of anything amiss there. Apart from some of the old folks expressing concern about the situation in Berwick, the community is pretty mellow. Before you inquire, I checked every brick of the Elizabethan Town Walls. I don't believe they're connected to the case."
"So why this place?" Michael inquired, pointing to the one spot on the map where all seven green dots congregated.
Agent Mitchell took a sip of his drink before gesturing toward the list of seven names on the map, two of which were marked by stars. "Margaret Thompson and Daniel Craig are the only two individuals, I wouldn't say 'victims', involuntarily involved whom I had the chance to interview. Currently, they, along with the others, are recuperating in their own homes or with relatives. Physically, they're fine and can manage on their own. However, at every round hour, they experience episodes of incoherence and restless movement, as though they're forcefully dancing. I interviewed Mrs. Thompson at her daughter's place and Mr. Craig at his home. I spoke to each of them a total of six times – thrice during the day, before, during, and after an episode, and the same at midnight. I presented them with a list of probable places they may have gone to. I can send it to you along with recordings of our conversations and their mumblings during the episodes. The list includes both places of folklore and regular locations. Berwick Castle is the only place that elicited a reaction when mentioned during their episodes – it's in my notes. It wasn't in their words or actions; it was more like a split-second disturbance in the air around them that hinted at a whiff of Magick, if I accurately recognized it."
"You seem confident based on the accounts of just two people... What did you find at Berwick Castle?" Grace pushed her glass aside, having finished her drink while Agent Mitchell spoke, whereas Michael was only halfway done.
"I don't remember visiting Berwick Castle, nor mentioning it to Mrs. Thompson and Mr. Craig, nor marking it on the map or writing it in the list. I only know it's Berwick Castle because for two consecutive nights, I remembered everything else, but when I see 'Berwick Castle' written, I can't recall when I wrote it and only have my notes as proof that I've been there," Agent Mitchell explained.
"So you've been there safely and back, except for the memory loss," Grace summarized.
"The only differences I can think of between me and the others are my active Magick and that I went there of my own volition, rather than disappearing to it," Agent Mitchell added.
"Alright. Let's go there," Grace decided.
"Just like this? Without preparation?" Agent Mitchell was surprised. He had intended for them to use all their time to get ready until 22:00, at least that's how he would have approached it.
"It's a low Rank 0 mission, and there are three of us, which is two too many," Grace confidently replied.
Agent Mitchell didn't have the chance to say another word. He hastily followed Grace and Michael, muttering: "HQ..."
As they approached Berwick Castle after a fifteen-minute walk through the silent streets, they were greeted by the sight of towering stone walls and turrets dramatically illuminated by soft, golden lights. These lights cast enchanting shadows against the night sky, while the castle stood as a majestic sentinel, silently guarding the town and the surrounding landscape.
"Michael, go forward," Grace ordered, and he tacitly accepted.
"Wait," Agent Mitchell intervened. "I've kept my mouth shut, but you, HQ's Agents, don't follow a set procedure. You simply arrive and take control."
"Well, yes. We're here to solve what the European Branch can't," Grace responded matter-of-factly rather than as an insult.
"That's debatable, but I won't argue about it. Agent Vasquez, I've been to HQ. I've completed the training program. I can tell when a professional stands before me. Forgive my bluntness, Agent Mir, but it's obvious you have absolutely no experience in the field, nor as an Agent. Therefore, before any of us go forward, for us, the European Branch and Headquarters, to maintain our cooperation in this case, please explain your purpose here," Agent Mitchell stated firmly.
"Go ahead, Michael," Grace repeated with a frown.
"Wait-"
"Go. Show both of us," Grace interjected, determinedly.