Chapter 54

21.10.2023

12:05

Michael strode out of the apartment, a water bottle in hand, clad in a tank top, shorts, and sleek running shoes. His physique was nothing short of sculpted, a testament to his relentless dedication. Together with Matteo, he had pushed his body past its human limits, refining it to match his ever-increasing Physique stat. The transformation didn't stop there; he even noticed a slight increase in his height, a not uncommon occurrence among those who focused primarily on their Build. Grace had mentioned it before; it was a side effect of intense dedication to physical enhancement.

But Michael's satisfaction went beyond mere aesthetics. Thanks to his Magick, he had unlocked the ability to indulge in any junk food his heart desired, in any quantity, without fear of the scale tipping towards unhealthy. And the added attention from the fairer sex didn't hurt either.

Though he hadn't spent much time at Headquarters yet, and could count his acquaintances on one hand, he knew that his experience wasn't unique. The majority of Agents maintained their physical prowess through rigorous training and their own brand of Magick. In this world, possessing a muscular physique was merely par for the course.

Mid-run, the thought crossed Michael's mind: 'I hope I'll get to pet a kangaroo and koala before we have to return to HQ.' He couldn't contain his excitement at the prospect of encountering Tasmanian devils, platypus, and wombats. Australia had always been a dream destination, and now he was finally experiencing it.

But amidst the thrill of exploration, he reminded himself of his priorities. 'It's fine to plan, but not around the mission. After!' With that mental note, he refocused his thoughts on the task at hand.

His route took him through Mascot and into the higher-cost neighborhoods, eventually leading him to Bellevue Cove. Along the way, he couldn't help but notice the conspicuous behavior of some individuals he recognized from the Cult. They seemed to be enjoying a lavish vacation, driving expensive cars or strolling shirtless towards Brighton-Le-Sands Beach. Others were simply going about their day, engaging in casual conversations with strangers, seemingly unfazed by any mission at hand.

Despite the familiar faces, Michael hadn't encountered any of the key Cult members or the five mysterious "guests" mentioned in the intel. It was a puzzling observation, adding another layer of intrigue to the already complex situation.

As Michael neared Elysium Heights, he found himself in a quandary. 'They have security patrolling the area and surveillance cameras at every turn,' he noted, weighing his options from a hundred and fifty meters away.

Even from a distance, the estate stood out, a bastion of luxury amid its surroundings. Behind its wrought-iron gates lay a magnificent mansion, boasting classical architectural flourishes and meticulously landscaped gardens. Tranquil fountains adorned the grounds, enhancing the estate's allure. Perched atop a hill, it commanded a sweeping vista of the city skyline, a testament to its opulence and secrecy.

Michael's pace faltered as he contemplated his next move. Should he continue jogging past, risking detection by the vigilant security? Or would turning back be too conspicuous?

Recalling Grace's directive to exercise caution but allowing him leeway in his approach, Michael deliberated. In the end, he opted to maintain his course, taking the calculated risk of not deviating from his running route.

Michael's curiosity piqued as he noticed a group of Cult members and unfamiliar faces sharing jovial conversation near the estate's entrance, reminiscent of suburban couples. Their attention shifted to him, and one of the Cult members gestured to the security guard, signaling for him to intervene.

"What's going on?" Michael queried, dropping any pretense of an Australian accent, which seemed unnecessary given the guard's lack of discernible accent either. The guard beckoned him over with a nonchalant wave.

"Nothing, Sir," the guard responded, catching Michael off guard with his casual demeanor. Michael raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the unexpected exchange. "My employer asked me to invite you to a welcoming party on the 23rd."

"I don't know your employer," Michael replied, taking a sip from his water bottle as he scrutinized the middle-aged man who had dispatched the guard. The effort of feigning exertion left him feeling parched, adding to the ruse.

The guard's smile widened. "My employer isn't an individual, but rather a highly influential group that recently relocated to the area," he explained, gesturing towards another guard who approached with a formal invitation card. Passing it to Michael, he continued, "I highly recommend attending. The group boasts significant wealth and attracts numerous celebrities. If you find it's not your scene, you're welcome to leave at any time. Transportation can be arranged for those who request it in advance. It's still early."

Examining the invitation, Michael couldn't shake his uncertainty. "This sounds intriguing, but I'm not sure I belong there or why I'm even being invited," he admitted, perplexed by the gesture.

"The group members have agreed to extend invitations to their neighbors, although not everyone will receive one. They have certain standards," the guard explained preemptively. "Let's just say your tenacity and dedication to physical improvement have caught their attention. It speaks volumes about your character."

As Michael glanced towards the man and woman who had waved him over, he offered them a nod of acknowledgment. "Alright, but I still need to finish my run. I wouldn't want the invitation to get dirty. Could I swing by later to collect it?"

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Of course," the guard agreed readily. "We'll keep it safe at the guardhouse. And your name?"

"Alexander Milhouse," Michael replied smoothly, using his cover identity for the mission. It wasn't just for infiltration purposes; it also served as a precaution in case the Kinta-Lath-Macbur Cult decided to conduct background checks on individuals near their gathering place.

"Got it. Thanks for your cooperation," the guard said before departing.

With the invitation secured, Michael resumed his run. Originally, he had planned to circle around the estate, but now he hesitated. The risk seemed too great, even if he could justify his presence by claiming curiosity about the venue. Instead, he opted to depart, mindful of the possibility that he might be under observation until the party.

…

13:45

"Wait, I need a moment to gather myself," Grace sighed, rubbing her forehead as she entered the apartment roughly half an hour after Michael's call.

They found themselves in the living room, Michael now clad in fresh clothes following a quick shower, as he hadn't yet mastered the Spells for self-cleaning.

"Okay, this could work. You've found us another way in. But we can't afford to sit idle for two days. We need to submit a report for Risk Assessment before the 23rd to mitigate any unforeseen issues at the party," Grace asserted.

"Should we attempt a nighttime break-in?" Michael suggested.

"It's risky. The estate's surveillance is tighter than the Bureau's Merit Points management, and neither of us possesses stealth Spells… but I have an idea!" Grace exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Get your shoes on, we're going shopping, boyfriend," she announced with a mischievous grin.

It took Michael a moment to catch on to her plan, and he awkwardly smiled. "Didn't realize I'd have to up my acting game for this mission."

…

18:50

Michael and Grace, under their aliases Alexander Milhouse and Vivi Ashford, arrived at Elysium Heights bearing a Gourmet Gift Basket.

As luck would have it, the guards had just changed shifts, aligning perfectly with their plan. Approaching the guards stationed outside the guardhouse, Michael spoke up first. "Hi, there. An invitation for the welcoming party was left for me here. Name's Alexander Milhouse."

"Yes, we were informed," one of the guards acknowledged before stepping inside to retrieve the invitation card.

Taking the opportunity to introduce Grace, Michael continued, "This is my girlfriend, Vivi Ashford."

Grace chimed in, holding up the gift basket and speaking with a natural Australian accent. "We brought a welcoming gift. I hope it's not too small or premature…"

The guard accepted the basket graciously. "It will be delivered. Is there anything else?" he inquired, noticing Michael's hesitation after glancing at the invitation card.

"It's not explicitly stated, so I'm unsure, but would it be acceptable for me to bring a plus one? And if not, could I pass the invite to my girlfriend? Her background seems more suited to these types of gatherings than mine," Michael queried.

"Alex!" Vivi tugged at his arm, her tone tinged with anger and hurt. "Did you bring me here just to use me as an excuse to avoid feeling out of place?"

"No, no, that's not it at all, babe," Alexander hastily reassured her. "But you know how I am... I always feel a bit awkward at your parents' gatherings."

"This is different. You were personally invited," Vivi countered.

"Still..." Alexander trailed off, uncertain.

Interrupting their conversation, the guard returned with the invitation card and stepped between them. "Allow me to make a phone call to inquire if it would be acceptable for you to bring your girlfriend," he offered.

"No, please don't," Vivi interjected firmly. "I don't want to create any trouble with our new neighbors before we've even had the chance to meet. And before you say anything, Alex, you've met my parents, and we've been dating for a year before they even asked me to bring you to their events."

"Come on..." Alexander pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. "It's just a phone call, babe. Let him try."

Before Vivi could respond, he continued, "Can you ask if we can at least come in to say hello and deliver the gift basket?"

"I'm afraid the estate isn't yet prepared to receive visitors," the guard interjected, ending the discussion.

"We won't stay long," Alexander insisted. "I appreciate the invitation, but attending alone wouldn't feel right, especially knowing you're at home. Plus, even if the guard who extended the invitation assured me the guests would be welcoming, I'd still feel uneasy."

"I'll make the call," the guard relented, taking the Gourmet Gift Basket to the guardhouse while the other guard remained with Alexander and Vivi.

After a few moments, they heard the faint whir of security cameras adjusting. Then, without reaction, they waited as the guard emerged from the guardhouse, the Gourmet Gift Basket in hand, its wrapper appearing undisturbed but carefully replaced.

"You may enter," the guard announced with a smile, returning the basket to them. "Someone will greet you at the main entrance."

"Thank you," Alexander said, relieved, as he accepted the basket.

"Apologies for the inconvenience," Vivi added, standing confidently by her boyfriend with her arms crossed.

They proceeded along the pristine driveway, flanked by meticulously manicured gardens, making their way towards the grand entrance of the mansion.

"Good evening, Mr. Milhouse, Miss Ashford," greeted their escort, a man dressed in sleek black attire. "Please follow me."

As Alexander and Vivi stepped into Elysium Heights, they were enveloped in a seamless blend of classic elegance and modern comfort. The foyer boasted marble floors and sparkling crystal chandeliers, exuding opulence and grandeur, while the richly colored furnishings added a touch of warmth and coziness.

Adorned with art pieces and ornate mirrors, the walls reflected sophistication and refinement. Through expansive windows, they caught glimpses of serene courtyards and verdant gardens. The escort guided them through carpeted hallways, ensuring a secure and pleasant journey.

Along the way, they observed the bustling activity of the Cult members, creating an atmosphere brimming with excitement and camaraderie.

Reaching the entrance to a closed office, the escort knocked and opened the door.

Inside the spacious office, eight figures were in the midst of raising their glasses in a toast.

"Apologies for the interruption, Sir. These are the two guests..." the escort began before stepping aside to allow Alexander and Vivi to enter.

"Of course," the man at the center, who had been leading the toast, replied graciously. "Let's allow for a brief pause to welcome our new arrivals."

The other seven individuals in the room nodded in agreement, offering welcoming smiles. Among them stood Harold Nelson, the Cult Leader of Kinta-Lath-Macbur, a seemingly ordinary man in his mid-forties with a bald head, mustache, and a genial demeanor. He warmly ushered Alexander and Vivi inside, closing the door behind them.

Though taken aback by the unexpected reception, Alexander and Vivi maintained their cover, concealing their surprise. Yet, as they entered the room, a sense of unease settled upon them both.

'There's something off about the Magick in this room,' they both thought, sharing a silent realization amidst the facade of their first-time discovery within the estate.