Chapter Text
A black SUV stopped in front of a lonely house in the snow. The tinted window opened, and a man in a black overcoat stepped out. He walked through the snow to the porch and stopped, meeting the gaze of another man sitting relaxed in a chair.
— Philip. — The man in the overcoat approached.
— Agent thirty-six. — The seated man nodded respectfully.
— You haven't changed at all.
— And you've aged quite a bit.
Agent 36 grinned. Philip pointed to a nearby chair, and Agent 36 accepted the invitation. They sat in silence for a few seconds, looking at the whitewashed field in the distance. Philip was the first to break the silence:
— Glad to see you're okay.
Agent 36 looked at his old friend. Long hair tied back in a ponytail at the top of his head. Brown eyes with a look of steel. Sharp cheekbones and lips that felt like they were always expressing displeasure. He looked about thirty-five years old. That's exactly what he'd looked like eleven years ago when they'd first met.
— You can't just kill someone like me. — Smugly declared Agent 36, feeling young again.
— Where yours are, there is danger... — They met eyes again. — Should I take your visit as a threat?
All semblance of easy conversation vanished in an instant. Agent 36 realised he was being seen through, so he decided to cut to the chase.
— No. You should take it as a request. The government needs your help. I need your help.
— Interesting. If I remember correctly, the last time I decided to help, sacrificing my holiday, by the way, I was declared an anomaly. Entity 8258, is that what you call it? Against your better judgment and all my goodwill, you tried to forcefully ‘contain’ me. So tell me, why don't I just send you all to hell?
— I know, I know, it was scummmy.... When I heard about the government's decision, I was furious. A year ago, I wouldn't have dared show my face to you. But not now. Now we're talking about destruction on an unimaginable scale. You said you were in the organisation that protects humanity…
— Humanity, not humankind.
— Nevertheless, you'll need to catch a brutal monster.
— The fact that he does not belong to homo sapiens doesn't make him not human.
— And what makes, may I ask?
— Humanity. Self-awareness. Empathy.
— Our target - Entity-8300. He's killed countless people. He has no empathy.
— And homo sapiens slaughters and enslaves countless animals. Some of them are pretty smart. You think you can do that because you are above in the food chain. So does he.
— Well, can't argue with that, I guess…
Agent 88 fell silent. Philip knew it was not because he decided to retreat. He just thinks about the next argument. At the same time, the old lady exited the house with two cups of something hot in them.
— Here, gentlemen, keep yourself warm.
— Thank you, mrs Falk. Your punsch is really something. — Philip smiles warmly and grabs the cup with both hands.
The old lady smiles in return and excuses herself. Agent 36 did not touch the offered drink, but while looking at it, understood the right words to say.
— You know, I was ordered to work on the Entity-8300 case half a year ago. The high command believed it would be sufficient time to prepare. But all our plans just didn't seem reliable or effective. But when I hear that foundation located you... I knew you were our chance. Our only chance to save lives. Please...
— You can't do good deeds with someone else's hands.
— But it is a good deed nonetheless.
— Do not play hero on me. You care for the survival of your spicie, I understand. But it didn't make you the "good guy" of the story.
Agent 36 sighed heavily. He reaches for his clothes and puts a photo with a depiction of two men on the table. Agent 36, in his 29 years, with a flame smile and a service handgun. And the men who sit beside him now.
— Listen... — The voice of Agent 36 became anxious. — I want to be honest. There are a whole lot of operatives around this house. My orders are to get your cooperation or secure containment. But... I am not going to obey it. If you refuse, I will walk away and devise an alternative to cancel the operation. Now, not on behalf of the government, but on my own, I beg. Help me.
Philip frowned. He closed his eyes for a few seconds. It is, indeed, true. A lot of soldiers were around the house, awaiting to unleash the latest models of weaponry on command. And the agent 36... He was not acting. He is truly ready to disobey the orders.
— I have one condition.
The eyes of Agent 36 sparkled with hope.
— What is it?
— I want a modern phone with permanent access to Entity-5549.
Agent froze for a solid 5 seconds. Then blink a bit... And loudly laugh on top of his lungs. Philip, while a bit more restrained, laughs too.
— You are exchanging your vacation, talents, and safety to gain access to a phone with a furry spirit inside? You know, you lost at least half of your mysterious charm in my eyes right now!
— Go screw yourself, agent 69.
— Oh well, give me a second.
Agent 36 stepped aside and contacted someone via an earpiece in the ear. Philip took a sip from the cup, still smiling, far wider than he usually did.
— Okay, high command approves, as long as you are not spreading the app or talking to a civilian about it.
— Friend... You got a deal.
Office in the restricted area. Thick walls, metal doors, emergency lights, and loudspeakers. A dozen workers sit at the computers in search of the information. When something remotely valuable is found, it is instantly printed and put down on the central table. Agent 36 attentively read all documents, one by one. Philip sits with closed eyes and fingers on the temples.
— Hmm... Not this one.
Philip puts the document into a large stack of checked ones.
— This looks like our Wendigo.
Philip takes another paper and closes his eyes again. Silence.
— No. This is Eliot Richter, 34 years old, looking to rob the house. Probably not going to, fears a lot. Go on searching.
Philip leaned back in his chair.
— Goddess, save me from that headache...
— I don't know the limits of your psychic abilities. If you are tired, we can continue tomorrow.
— Just need a break.
Philip mindlessly stares at the ceiling. It is painfully white, so he moves his sight to his new phone. New message. A photo of this exact office, with agent 36 reading documents and Philip concentrating with closed eyes. The only unusual thing is a furry creature with a cat-like skull. Entity-5549, for government agents. He used to call her by her real name, ɒ҉༙྇b҉༙྇n҉༙྇ i҉༙྇ l҉༙྇Ә҉༙྇. In the photo, 5549 rests her arms on the table and looks down into a document, as if she is trying to help. Philip smiles, receiving much-needed respite. But alas, it is time for work. Philip looks at Agent 36.
— If I remember correctly, Wendigo strikes in the period from December 21 to January 1. It is too soon to seek his presence.
— That's the thing that worried the high command. He made his hunts unpredictable. And very often. It is a good chance that while we speak, he is already stalking another family.
— Hmm. Indeed, not a good omen. Got something?
— Maybe this?
Not even looking at the document, Philip takes it and closes his eyes. It takes quite a lot of time, compared to other cases. Then, the man quickly read words on paper and closed his eyes again. A smug smirk appeared on his face. He opened his eyes, took a stand, and spoke to all agents.
— Ladies and gentlemen... We got him.
A wave of excitement swept through the office. But everyone realised that this was only the first step, the first victory in a secret war. Agent 36 quickly gave out orders - find the house, find out everything about the family, and prepare for surveillance. Philip turned to thirty-six
— Make me a fake passport. I need to be in the house, in a place with potential victims.
— Are you sure you won't scare him off?
— I'm sure it's the only way I can protect people.
— That's right. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.
— Years of service turn tragedies into an emotionless list of expenses. I serve those who don't work that way.
Philip knocked politely on the door. Instead of his favourite coat, he was wearing a simple down jacket, and in his pocket was a passport in the name of Paul Johansen. A middle-aged woman in a kitchen apron opened the door. ‘Paul’ smiled with his arms wide open.
— Auntie Erna! It's good to see you at last.
— You must be Paul. Come in, come in, don't let the cold get inside.
The two children ran past the hallway, not paying the slightest attention to the adults' concerns. An old television could be heard in the next room. The house itself wasn't exquisite, but signs of careful maintenance were visible everywhere. After the blizzard Philip had walked through, the Johansen family nest felt very cosy.
— So sorry your house burned down… — Mrs Johansen shook her head sadly. — Such a tragedy…
— It's okay, I've been through worse than this. — Philip said, forgetting his role for a second. — Thank you for taking me in.
At that moment, one of the children miscalculated his speed and crashed into Philip. They both jerked back and stared at each other in surprise.
— Ivar, what needs to be said?
— Excuse me, please. I was just playing Sonic! It's a hedgehog that runs fast, fast, fast!
— Yeah, our Ivar loves him. He's got a whole collection of toys. — said Mrs Johansen, who had moved to the kitchen. Philip, meanwhile, with a sly spark in his eyes, leaned towards Ivar.
— Sonic, you say? Show me your collection.
The boy almost jumped for joy and immediately took Philip to his room. But it was not the toy collection that interested the man. While Ivar talked excitedly about the adventures of the blue hedgehog, Philip stared out the window. All he could see there was the beautiful landscape of the winter woods.
— Where's your brother's room?
— А? There, behind the wall.
— Also overlooking the woods?
— Mm-hmm. Why?
— I'm just wondering how fast Sonic can get to that tree over there. — Philip said thoughtfully.
— In a second! In a millisecond! In a milli-millisecond!
— That's what I think. — he replied, not meaning Sonic at all.
Night. The blizzard had subsided, leaving only sparse snowflakes to fall here and there. A pair of pale white eyes, with a tiny dot of pupils in the middle, stared at the house. Inhumanly keen eyesight noticed the slightest movement in the window. Meat, young meat, calmly and serenely playing its games. An oblivious victim.
“You're not welcome here.” — suddenly sounded in the creature's head.
The monster turned round sharply. Philip stood a dozen metres away, with his hands shoved in his pockets. There was nothing on his face but a frown of determination.
“Not many people dare approach me. Much less speak to me. You've given yourself away, meat. Why don't I tear you apart where you stand?”
They both knew that the reason the monster hadn't done it yet was curiosity. He wondered why this man was acting so fearless. That's what Philip was counting on. He sent the following telepathic message.
“I've come to talk. If you kill me, I'll come back for your head.”
The creature made a sound only remotely resembling laughter. Anyone in Philip's place would have frozen in his veins. Anyone in Philip's place would have run away when he saw the Wendigo's long, deadly, pale limbs coming toward him. Philip did not move a muscle.
“No one is immortal.”
“It doesn't matter. I know you've killed more people this year than you need to survive. Why?”
“Talking won't help you, meat.” — The Wendigo continued to approach, revealing a predatory grin. — “Run.”
Philip had no desire to play an obviously rigged game.
“Open portal at my coordinates.”
The space next to the man split apart to form an oval blackness into which he immediately stepped. Just in time for the portal to close in front of the monster's nose.
***
The next night, when the whole house was asleep, Philip contacted Agent 36.
— Are you sure you can take him? — This was the third time the agent had asked that.
— Yes.
— Be careful, he's bulletproof.
— I don't need a gun. If it bleeds, it can be killed. If there's a mind, I can break it.
The agent hung up the phone. Philip sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes. His mind encompassed the whole house, every metre, every speck of dust. He saw, or rather directly knew, everything that was going on within the walls of the dwelling. The Johansen couple was sound asleep. Ivar tossed restlessly in bed. Hour after hour, nothing happened.
…
The hunger and excitement of the hunt. The anticipation of the slaughter. Wendigo began with his favourite trick - the illusion of footsteps in the attic. Enough to disturb his prey, to make them fearful and hesitant.
As he travelled through subspace, the Wendigo peered into every window. The pitiful human eyesight can't see him. The first place to start is with a child. Nothing like the sound of a baby squealing. The belief that an older man will come and save him. The fear and despair of killing the protector before his eyes. Long, pale fingers slowly opened the window to the child's bedroom, making yourself visible.
Deliberately loud, the Wendigo climbed inside in took a few steps. The child continued to sleep. The creature let out a squeak of annoyance, came close, leaned over the boy... And at that moment, the illusion dissipated. There was no one in the bed.
With one hand, Wendigo threw the entire bed back against the wall. The perfect moment ruined! The monster quickly calmed himself down and stepped out into the corridor, just in time to see two people - the mother who had come to the sound right in front of him and the cocky man who stood at the far end of the corridor.
The monster grabbed the woman by the throat, looked at the man, and smiled. Does he really think he can save her? Let him look at the evidence to the contrary.
“Hostages only work if the enemy values their lives.”
The woman's head exploded in a bloody mess. Wendigo looked angrily at the useless corpse he held in his hands and tossed it aside. The impudent man will pay! A dash towards him. With one swing of his clawed hand, the monster nearly ripped the man's throat open. But in an instant... The target simply vanished.
Wendigo looked around quickly. There was no one around. In a rage, the monster swung his arms in all directions, smashing furniture and walls.
Shot.
The bullet bounced off the monster's skin, and it looked to the far end of the corridor. The husband made a futile attempt to save the rest of the family. At last, the fear of the victim could be savoured. The Wendigo shook his finger in a mocking gesture and stepped closer. A shot. Another shot.
The monster leapt forward, wanting to strike its victim, but with a lightning-fast reaction, the man rolled up, dodging the deadly claws. The wendigo turned around - another illusion! It wasn't the husband, it was the insolent man!
Without a second's hesitation, the monster swung his arm, tearing off his opponent's weapon arm. But the man didn't even stagger. Instead, he... Slammed his head into the Wendigo's head. The monster's mind exploded inside. A rumbling noise eclipsed all sound. I wanted to lie down and sleep. In a desperate attempt to regain control of his body, he tried to attack again. It failed.
With his remaining hand, the man touched the Wendigo's temples. The whole world around the monster disappeared. There was only black emptiness and... Presence. The powerful, unmistakable presence of the man who had asked the question.
“Who do you work for?”
No, you cannot answer that. You cannot. Сannotcannotcannotcannotcannot…
“Why are you kidnapping people?”
Presence has turned into suppression. You can't answer for anything! Otherwise...
The emptiness around him shrank, crushing, grinding the Wendigo to dust. The man no longer asked; he broke into the recesses of his mind. Looking, searching, taking away. Until there was nothing left.
***
— You can get up now, Mrs Erna.
The woman got up from the floor, fearfully, and ran to see if the children were all right. It wasn't easy to create the illusion of her head exploding so quickly, but the move paid off. Philip had a knack for forcing his opponent's consciousness to ignore itself, effectively rendering him invisible. But such quick illusions were hard to pull off.
The agents burst into the house with their guns at the ready. Thirty-six immediately called for a medic for Philip's arm.
— Not required. I'm getting a new body.
— 8300 neutralised?
— Completely. He is, if I may say so, in a coma.
Agent 36 exhaled. But he quickly noticed that his friend was in no hurry to relax. Philip was staring at the snow outside the window, clearly thinking about something important.
— What is it?
— The problem is much bigger than we suspected. Then I suspected. — He turned round and gave the thirty-sixth a determined look. — Warn your command that from now on, they'll have to work not just with me, but with all Immortals. All of reality is at stake.