"Who are you?" asked Rowan.

"I'll shut the door," whispered Peter. Without a word, Peter stood by the door.

The attention shifted to the man with white-dyed hair and a shaved beard. His skin was a bit tan, and even when sitting, he looked tall. The man adjusted his tie and stood up. He walked over to Rowan, looking down at him and sticking his arm out. His smile was cheap and, arguably, forced. The hostile atmosphere that swayed around Rowan kept him on high alert.

"Who are you?" Rowan asked again. "You SESD, folk?"

"Hostile, aren't we?" said the man. "Let me introduce myself."

Peter, who had been leaning on the door, amazed by the encounter, still didn't make a sound.

"My name is Tony Mariucci," he stated. "To clear up everything, no, I am not SESD "folk."

"Not SESD?" muttered Peter. "Whoops."

"Then who are you?" Rowan asked. This time with an irritated tone.

Tony Mariucci wanted to take this conversation to a place where everyone could see each other eye-to-eye. He even invited Peter to the conversation. After all, Tony Mariucci heard what he said all the way outside.

The whole living room was silent for a moment. Tony looked around and laughed a little. The tension was high, and he knew it.

"Well," he chuckled. "I'd really love some water, dear." Winking at Rowan's mother.

Rowan instantly shut down the order, getting to the point where his pissed-off tone had settled in.

"Speak!" he shouted.

"Rowan, the neighbors," his sister said.

Tony Mariucci chuckled again. He gave an apologetic hand raise.

"All I wanted was to break the ice," he chuckled. "But I'll completely introduce myself and my fellow members."

He sat up from the chair, looking over at Rowan's mother. He nodded his head, then looked at Rowan.

"As I stated before, my name is Tony Mariucci. No, I am not SESD, and no, we're not affiliated with them. Your friend there, Peter, was it?"

"Y-yes," Peter replied.

"Well, Peter, we could hear your conversation," Tony said. "We are Null Armada. We're a group recruiting those with great abilities."

"What?" Rowan asked.

"We're not that big, but we're all worthy of our word," Tony announced.

Tony stood up and walked toward a window next to the couches. He looked out and turned around. Rowan didn't understand what he was doing, but his figure changed. He coughed a bit to clear his throat, as it looked like he was starting to realize what he was about to say.

"There are many groups in this world, just like ours," he stated. "Some have already gotten halfway to what they want to accomplish. GEED and their Portadores da Morte, the Eleven Swordsmen, and the Saiko Syndicate. Jericho, and much more. Every organization, group, and team wants to do something in this world. Many of them are enemies of the world."

"What does this have to do with me and my family?" Rowan asked. "Why do you want me to know all this? This doesn't make any sense."

"Because," Tony halted. His tone had gotten more irritated, too. "Just be careful out there. I know I came in here unannounced. If you ever need to talk, come see me. We're only messengers. I believe I've overstepped my boundaries."

Rowan had become just as confused as before.

"Our leader knows you," Tony stated. "Empress Armada will be watching you. You have been tagged by the SESD. Do anything stupid, and you're fucked."

Tony put his index finger on his right ear, tapping it repeatedly.

"We're not your enemy, but we can be," said a man standing behind the couch Rowan was sitting on. His presence wasn't felt until he started speaking. He had steampunk-tinted spectacles and very pale skin, so pale that it looked unhealthy. His voice was sharp, and he swayed a lot as he spoke.

Rowan couldn't understand anything anymore. He put his hand up and started asking questions.

"Who is your empress? How does she know me? How could you know what Peter and I were talking about?" Rowan asked. "When these questions are answered, can you leave?"

Tony smiled and nodded.

"The empress is someone you'd have to meet eye to eye. Describing her and her ways of knowing would quite literally kill us with her ability. Once we gain your trust, you may always call. If you need a safe place, she can provide that for you," he continued. "Any questions about her must be addressed only to her. For the question about Peter, the man standing behind you has the ability to hear voices from a select number of people. To put it into better understanding. He bumped into Peter a few hours ago, activating his ability."

"That was you?" Peter asked with a shocked facial expression. "You knocked me over, man. I thought you were some sort of mugger."

"Is that all?" Rowan asked.

Tony walked toward the door. His jacket was hanging on a coat rack next to the door. After putting it on and opening the front door, he gave a nod and said one last thing: "You should find people you can trust. Sooner or later, the Execution Brigade and even CIANE-T will find you and interrogate you for whatever reason. After all, you've been tagged." The tall, pale man patted Peter on the shoulder numerous times before pointing to his ears and giving him a thumbs up. This indicated that he couldn't hear him anymore.

"CIANE-T?" asked Rowan. Before he could finish, the men left his apartment. It was quiet and stuffy. On the couch, his mother was clutching herself.

"Are you alright, mama?" asked Maeve, Rowan's sister.

She didn't respond and was ushered to her room.

"Are you leaving, Peter?" asked Rowan.

"Yeah, school and all," Peter responded.

"Do you happen to know what CIANE-T means?" asked Rowan.

"Hmm, yeah," he continued. "It means covert interrogation and necessary examination team. They're a scary group of people. A bit above the fear scale in comparison to the execution brigade. They're much more powerful and much older."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Peter, for reasons unknown to Rowan, knew a lot about the SESD. This wasn't anything to be cautious about. Most of the departments in the SESD are publicly known.

"Do you know about the Saber's Legion?" asked Rowan. He clenched his fists in the hopes that he didn't mess up something. If Peter was actually a part of the SESD, it would backfire completely on him.

"The who?" Peter asked with the most distasteful, confused expression. "Is that SESD too?"

"Nevermind," Rowan exhaled. "Cya around."

[Null to CIANE]

The past few days were rough. Rowan kept his head on a swivel. His teacher, Mr. Kasper, was still AWOL. With what Tony Mariucci and his men mentioned, every day was a pain. He didn't walk with Hanna out of fear that she'd get into the mix. Every day, he'd walk quickly to the subway station, leaving her before she realized it. Peter came to Rowan's house often. His research skills were useful. So much so, Rowan was contemplating whether he should bring him along on Saturday. With so much to do at such a horrendous time, Rowan could only continue his day every morning, gaining post-traumatic stress disorder by the minute.

The night before the meet-up, Peter came to the house. They both sat in the living room as both Maeve and Rowan's grandmother had been sleeping, along with his mother. Rowan looked at his pale white hands, wondering what he did to get in this position.

"Every day is like a nightmare," he sighed. "I'm so tired. But what do I do now?"

Peter shrugged, not knowing how to answer this low-toned, emotion-packed Rowan. The two sat in silence as the TV played in the background. It was on the news, full of reruns of the events taking place. Still, the message alerting the people to be wary of the wanted felon, Mr. Kasper, moved across the screen in bold red letters. Looking up and facing Peter, Rowan asked a simple question.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Peter replied. "Work, taking care of the house, and whatnot."

"I need you to come with me to this place at around two o'clock," Rowan said.

"Investigating?" Peter asked.

"We're meeting people," Rowan said. "I'm a bit nervous, but you've been helping me and such."

"Alright," Peter shrugged.

"Alright?" Rowan repeated. "Didn't you have a ton of stuff to do?"

"Not anymore," Peter said.

A rush of silence and confusion filled the room. Peter, who was still watching the news, hadn't realized the confusion at all.

"Look," he said, pointing toward the TV. "That's CIANE-T."

Rowan looked toward the television to see a Japanese man with slick hair speaking to a reporter outside a train station. Beside him were four people wedged perfectly. They wore white Class-B uniforms with CIANE-T written on their left chest. Their uniforms were really shiny and smooth. Rowan had thought, since he had never heard of these people before, that they were secretive. The four CIANE-T members behind the man speaking were all wearing tinted tactical goggles and stood in an at-ease position.

"Hey Peter," asked Rowan. "You know a good amount about the SESD, correct?"

"I do look over their information," he replied.

"Are they that strong?" Rowan asked.

"Probably not stronger than the secretive squads or departments, but CIANE-T is pretty strong," he stated. "They're the only ones in the world, I believe. They've been all over the country. Heck, probably even the world."

Rowan looked back at the TV, watching the man speak with such authority. He assured that CIANE-T, along with other divisions and departments, were working hard to protect the citizens of this city.

"There's videos of CIANE-T personnel onlooking street execution, ya know," Peter randomly announced.

"What?" Rowan asked. "Is that true?"

"I saw it in a video," Peter replied. "But when I went back to that site, it was taken down. The people who ran that site are probably locked somewhere, long gone."

Rowan laid back on the couch. He was tired, but watching the news kept him interested.

"Did you see that?" Rowan asked. "What was that?"

Rowan grabbed the remote, rewinding the screen. He looked closely at the TV to see the last person to the right of the Japanese man, who had pointed at the screen for a split second.

"Did you see that?" asked Rowan.

"I don't see anything," Rubbing his head, Peter walked up to the screen. "Are you seeing things now?"

"I swear, that man just pointed at the screen," Rowan said. He replayed it again and paused as the frame cut to the finger point. "Don't you see it?"

The screen, to him, was still fixated on the person pointing the finger at the screen. But to Peter, it was just a still frame of CIANE-T standing at ease. He couldn't tell if Peter was playing dumb or being absolutely serious. With everything happening, his mind couldn't process the feeling of someone actually telling him the truth versus someone trying to lure him into some sort of trap. His judgment and perception have been lacking since he was tagged. Here he was, still having no idea why he was tagged. Not a thought went by where he kept contemplating if this was a silly prank.

Peter took his phone out and took a picture of the screen. Still, it showed the person pointing at the screen. Peter sent the picture to his sister, who was a few years older than him. After sending the picture, she instantly responded, saying, "Why are you sending me a random picture of people standing still?"

Peter then asked if she saw anyone pointing in the picture.

Her response was a staring emoji and the words, "No, idiot, stop texting me."

Both Peter and Rowan were confused. Rowan's fears skyrocketed with this abnormality. He was in shock and couldn't think straight.

"Calm down," Peter uttered. "If anything, you can just speak to them upfront. You're not a fugitive or anything."

"Right," he murmured. "Right."

"Do you have some sort of idea why you'd get tagged?" Peter asked. "I mean, most people who were tagged usually did something wrong or have an ability of some sort."

"I haven't done anything, nor do I have any sort of power," Rowan responded. But in his mind, he could remember Mrs. Munster. He kept thinking that somehow, someway, the SESD figured out what his supernatural ability was and that this was the sole reason why they'd tag him.

Peter looked at Rowan, realizing he had been stuck in the same position and in deep thought. He snapped and clapped at him numerous times before turning off the TV completely. It was nearing midnight, and they were supposed to be somewhere in the afternoon. Peter assured Rowan that he'd be alright and that he'd stay with him because that's what buds are for. With a simple gesture, both of them parted ways.

The morning came, and the alarm clock rang aloud. The house was quiet as the clouds rolled through, indicating that rain was near. The living room was darkened, but the mood was calming. It had just turned eleven o'clock, and Peter was scheduled to come by at around 1 p.m. For just two hours, Rowan sat down on the couch. No television, no phone. Just the noises of the neighbors walking down the hallway, the rapid stomping of the baby upstairs. The distant echo of a police siren, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and so on. He went from worrying about the things that would happen to him to finally relaxing.

*Nuk nuk nuk*

The sudden knocking ended the nice, quiet, dark morning instantly. Rowan, without a thought in his head, walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. Not even the thought that this could've been the SESD went through his head. Peter, fully decked out with unnecessary things, was standing at the door. Slowly opening the door, Peter immediately expressed his interest in where they would be going in full detail.

"I had this in my mind the whole night," Peter said. "How did they know I was going to meet you?"

"Who?" Rowan asked.

"The people, man!" he silently shrieked. "Those guys are like the CIA!"

"There are already many problems we've got to face," Rowan stated. "Hell, I didn't even know half the damn organizations he mentioned. But we need to get down to the details for today."

They went over the details, and before they knew it, it was already 2 p.m.

The walk toward the therapist building was cold and quiet. Peter had layers over him, covering basically every part of his body besides his eyes. His eyes were watering as the wind blew directly in both of their faces. The battle to get to the building was hell. With some time still remaining, they entered the warm, dim building. Outside was dark, with rain starting to fall constantly. It looked like something out of a horror movie. But it didn't matter now that they were inside.

The receptionist ushered them toward the room. She stopped them a few doors before Mrs. Munster's room to give them the rundown.

"There are a total of six people in there. More may be coming," she continued. "Mrs. Munster will be there at exactly 2:30 p.m."

She then continued ushering them to the door, knocking on it three times, then opening it. Both Peter and Rowan stood at the door, looking at six people staring right at them. All but one were sitting on the couch. Penelope was also there. Her look of anger was still evident. Peter, on the other hand, had a wary expression.

Each person was around the same age as Rowan and Peter. They were all dressed in different styles. Coats, hoodies, sweaters—you name it.

"You!" Penelope shouted. "I hate you!"

Peter walked in and introduced himself. But no one was really looking at him. They were all staring into Rowan's soul as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.