Chapter Text
That wasn’t really Handler’s voice, this wasn’t the Agency. How long does this has been continued?
These thoughts reverberated with an echo in Phoenix’s mind as they stared at the small object in their hand emitting tiny flames. They had just realized that they were not, as they had believed five minutes ago, inside the Agency’s HQ, leisurely sipping red wine in the medical wing. Watching John Juniper passionately speaking in the operations room on the second floor, Phoenix suddenly had a dreadful thought that wouldn’t leave their mind—they might never see Handler again; they might just die here in this strange, explosive-filled Zoraxis warehouse, get slowly scanned to death by rotating lasers, blown up by motion-sensing missiles, or simply perish from the drawn-out time until Juniper released a nuclear bomb. In short, they might never hear Handler's voice again. Under immense pressure and fear, Phoenix slowly sabotaged the traps Juniper had set for them, bit by bit destroying the cage that held them, until inexplicably, the earpiece Juniper had failed to remove crackled to life.
“Handler?”
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During Reginald's career as an agent, he had never experienced such an emotional rollercoaster. Three hours ago, he watched his agent waving goodbye to Juniper with a black briefcase through a surveillance camera; Agent Phoenix had once again brilliantly completed the mission, once again using their cleverness and luck to save the world, another feat; two hours ago, his agent’s locator disappeared from the map, and no matter how loudly he yelled into the communicative earpiece, it was met with silence. According to EOD's years of training and protocols, when an agent disappears from the map for more than an hour, it's time to consider that the agent might have been dealt with or controlled, and preparations for erasing records related to the incident should begin. But Reginald didn’t believe that his agent, the Phoenix, would just disappear. His heart was now filled with guilt and sorrow—it was he who had sent the liaison officer who betrayed them to Zoraxis, it was he who had leaked the method of contacting Phoenix to Zoraxis, it was he who had left his post after Phoenix successfully retrieved the nuclear codes briefcase to celebrate in the downstairs café with other handlers—it was he who had provided no support until he heard Phoenix’s intense cough and the dull thud of them falling to the floor.
He stared at the black surveillance screen on his desk, sinking into immense guilt. He remembered Phoenix's richly expressive face though they never spoke. He remembered the first real meeting with Phoenix when they lay half-reclined on a hospital bed, interestedly and amicably sizing him up after falling from outer space; he remembered their first mission together, their playful smile as they peeked from behind the stage wearing a comical top hat before the performance; he remembered joining them in infiltrating Fabricater’s studio, where he knelt on the circular rooftop glass watching his agent disarm one trap after another below, not forgetting to give him a thumbs-up after installing a tracker in the mimic mask; (he remembered watching through the monitor as Phoenix blasted an escape route with TK, stealing a golden-red mask and briefcase from Juniper's collection shelf, leaving with a hint of mockery...) Suddenly, he buried his face in his hands, sighing loudly to swallow the tears that had reached his eyes. There must be something he could do, his agent surely could turn the tide and needed his help.
Wait... the tracker...
Handler sprung from his seat, grabbing the phone on his desk: “Give me the address from the tracker on the mimic mask! Now!”
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Nearly an hour later, as the helicopter hovered over an industrial area, the tracker showed the mimic mask had stayed here for over two hours, then moved away at the speed of a plane. With years of instinct, Handler figured it had to be Juniper who had kidnapped his agent (who else could it be!), or perhaps Juniper had taken his agent on a plane (please, no!). His agent must be nearby (they must still be alive!). As he stared at a green water tower marked with a strange mask pattern, his communication earpiece suddenly crackled, then fell silent, and just as Handler was about to ask, a faint, hoarse voice came through.
“Handler?”
Handler froze, stunned by this voice he had never properly heard, but his years of training quickly took over his slow mind, and he shouted into the mic: “Agent! Is it you? Answer me! Are you okay?”
“Hmm.” A muffled response came, followed by a hesitant voice, “Handler...is that really you?”
"It's me! I...! (They must have been tricked by the mimic mask! They’re doubting me!) Let me think...umm...your favourite colour is... (God, I must ask them more about their personal information later!!) Ah, Agent, I'm afraid you'll just have to trust it's me for now, anyway, where are you now?”
“In a warehouse.” The hoarse voice said.
“There are many warehouses around...let me think...can you see a green water tower?”
Silence.
“Agent? Can you see—”
"Boom!” A sound as if the steel had been pierced rang out from outside Handler’s earpiece, and he saw a dazzling laser strike the water tower, hitting the strange mask pattern right between the eyes.
“Ah~ I guess that laser was your doing~” Handler felt a small pride surge; his agent had likely figured out how to save themselves and was out of danger, “We’ll head over now, just stay put.”
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Phoenix, after unwittingly calling out “Handler”, was stunned. They hadn’t spoken to anyone in a long time, not wanting and not wishing to. But just now, they had called out with their cracked voice for the person they most wanted to hear from at the moment. As they considered what to say next, the voice they had missed for over three hours came through, inquiring about their situation with concern. Phoenix was grateful that Handler didn’t make too much of their sudden speech and quickly confirmed their location and rescue plan. After the instruction to “stay put” came through, Phoenix started to ponder how to explain everything.
Unsure how much Handler knew about selective mutism, Phoenix sincerely hoped Handler wouldn’t take their silence as a personal grudge or think they felt too high and mighty to speak with others, causing him sorrow—which was the last thing they wanted to do next to dying. Anxiously thinking this over, Phoenix held the laser emitter, burning through all the non-hazardous items in sight, as if accomplishing a strange achievement, merely finding something to occupy themselves to avoid thinking about the potential questions from Handler. By the time the evacuation team burst in, Phoenix was listlessly swinging their legs, seated on the only piece of furniture in the almost empty warehouse—a desk.
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Handler rushed into the warehouse where Phoenix was located with the evacuation team.
Before the evacuation team’s helicopter had even landed, the Agency's technical personnel had already hacked the surveillance in the area and observed that all Zoraxis employees had evacuated the warehouse. This was both good and bad news; the good being that they wouldn't have to worry about encountering significant armed resistance during the rescue, and the bad being that they were very certain his agent was doomed, leaving no need for a cleanup crew, or there was some other nearby danger forcing them to evacuate before confirming whether Phoenix was dead. Regardless of the reason, Handler decided they needed to immediately enter the warehouse and evacuate with Phoenix.
Although he had already confirmed the location of his agent through surveillance, that didn't stop them from receiving additional direction towards Phoenix’s position—a burnt smell of wood and plastic filled the warehouse corridors as they advanced, covering their noses and mouths, quickly arriving at an open area at the end of the corridor where a familiar figure was seen sitting on a desk, swinging their legs.
“Agent! I’m so glad that you’re okay,” Handler said as he ran towards Phoenix. Hearing the sound, Phoenix turned their head and lightly jumped off the desk, walking towards Handler with a smile when they saw Handler’s arms stop mid-air about to embrace them. Suddenly, members of the evacuation team armed with guns quickly surrounded them, physically separating Reginald and Phoenix, and pointing their guns at the agent standing by the desk. One of them, eyes wide with anger, demanded, "Prove you're Agent Phoenix, not some mimic mask impersonator!"
Phoenix slowly raised their hands, still clutching the laser emitter, then, coming up with a way to demonstrate, they slowly released the emitter and snapped their fingers, causing the reflector to hover in mid-air. Phoenix looked at Handler, giving him a weary smile, and then signed with their hands, [It's me.]
“Put down your guns! What ARE you doing? It's not in a million years I’m gonna mistake recognize MY Agent!” Handler finally squeezed through the slowly lowering guns of the crowd, rushing up to embrace Phoenix and nearly colliding with the still-hovering laser emitter. Quick as a flash, Phoenix used TK to push the emitter higher, then realized that Handler, whom they thought they'd never see again, was now embracing them. They felt a surge of warmth rise from their chest, their hands freezing in a finger gun pointing at the emitter. Realizing Phoenix's stiffness, Handler quickly let go, embarrassedly ruffling his hair, “Ah, Agent, you did well there, looks like you didn’t need our help to get yourself out of this situat- ah!”
Before he could finish, Handler was pulled into a forceful hug by Phoenix, who held him tightly as if afraid he’d vanish. They rested their head on Handler’s shoulder, took a deep breath, and then whispered in his ear, “I’m glad to see you again too.”
Before Handler could react, Phoenix reluctantly pulled back and motioned for the laser emitter to return to their side, signing, [Zor's tech, a laser emitter powered by regular electric screwdriver batteries, highly recommend sending it to the R&D department for study.]
“Ah yes, I assume that is what you just used on the water tower; it is quite powerful. We will bring it back and poke around a bit. So let's go, agent, we need to go back to HQ.”
[I'm afraid there's no time, Juniper took the suitcase, they are about to send a nuke somewhere, he needs to be stopped.]
"WHAT!? Now that is a huge problem, but we still need to get out of here, and we'll figure out where Juniper went and move on from that point. Come on Agent, let's get you out of here, you've been on operations for days, and you need a rest~"
“Your van was found by the evacuation team, just a few blocks away from where you parked it before you crashed Juniper's party,” Handler said as they walked with Phoenix towards the exit, “I’ve already told them to put it in the garage of the local safe house, if you need anything from it, I can help.”
Phoenix shook their head.
“Then... Are you injured or hurt or anything?” they were already aboard the helicopter, Handler said as he handed Phoenix some earplugs.
Phoenix shook their head and put on the earplugs.
“Are...are you hungry?” Handler’s voice came through the earplugs.
Phoenix chuckled softly, shaking their head again, and signed, [Juniper gave me sandwiches and cake, along with some quite tasty red wine. Plus, I’ve been unconscious for a while, so I can say I’m in the best shape I've been in three days.]
Seeing Handler's head slowly droop, Phoenix added, [The only thing I need right now, is to take a shower. I’m covered with smoke and gunpowder smell, if I’m going to stop Juniper, I have to stay presentable for the coming infiltrates.]
Handler looked up, a spark in his eyes, “Ah, I think we can arrange that! After all, there’s still time before I debrief the director and get new operation instructions. We can find a place for you to rest a bit. But after that, I'm afraid you might still be the agent on this case.”
[It's okay.]Phoenix signed with a slight smile.