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Unsurprisingly he was nearly caught several times as he snuck his way down the building. Between the leaks and the overdue debt, everyone was looking over their shoulders and listening for anything suspicious to report. While he technically had every right to wander, being this far from his office would definitely fall under that.
It didn't help that he knew if he got caught the Boss would do everything in her power to ensure he never left it again.
Still after bribing the Monitor with some herring he snagged and swiping Lōotcrates key as it puzzled over its phone, he made it to the vault.
Quite a few heads turn as he strides past, the detectives turning to each other quizzically, Cashmoney leaning against the glass of vir container, but he didn't spare any of them a glance. This was a timed mission, and even if it hurt to ignore them he needed all the time he could get with him .
The soft golden light of the filled cells gives way to the darkness of hundreds of empty ones, to be filled as time went on. Idly he wonders how long it’s been since anyone else has been down here, a sinking feeling in his gut saying it's been far longer than the league as he knows it has been around.
It's the transition from hard tile to soft loamy grass, with a low blue light that tells him he's found what he was looking for. A blue bubble glowing almost too bright in the darkness, a single figure laying on the grass inside.
Reaching out, he sets his hand on the bubble, the pliable membrane rippling but not breaking at the touch. Startled, the figure shoots up, his visible eye locking onto him.
"Ah, hello. Are you a fan?” Parker MacMillan asks, lifting a hand up to tap at the mask on his face.
His throat had tightened at seeing his doppelgänger, but hearing his own voice ask him if he was a fan of all things? That was the straw to finally break his back. Harsh laughter bursts from him, forceful while he feels weak, collapsing forward into the pliable membrane and sliding down. Hysterical laughter shifts into heaving sobs, tears soaking into the leather before he tears off the mask and tosses it down, onto the grass below
It takes a bit to calm down, and though he’s still breathing heavily, he looks back up to the legend. Parker had shuffled to be right on the other side of him, looking at him with a mix of concern and confusion in his eye.
“No, I’m not a fan…” Parker MacMillan IIIII trails off, hesitant to finish the thought.
“I think I’m you.”