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Heavy thuds ring through the corridor of the Laplace Research Center as the yellow tank makes his way toward a room in the far corner of the building. He seems worried – anxious even, if you could really say that a ferrofluid can show any emotions – which is strange, as there seems to be no reason to be so stressed on such a lovely, silent Tuesday.
Another good question is why the ever-chaotic Laplace is suddenly so silent.
“Shit!!! What on earth is going on in here?” Ulrich mutters under his breath as he looks through the windows he passes by - each empty, each smeared with strange oil-paint stains. He once read about storm symptoms like that in someone’s report, but why would they appear here all of a sudden?
He finally reaches a door leading to a dusty room that was last cleaned long before the first Storm. Without stopping to catch his breath, he bursts inside. From the moment he woke up and saw the empty halls full of paint stains until this very second, he had been worried about one person. Because if what he thinks is true - if the Laplace Center really has lost its Storm immunity - then Enigma, the very person he is searching for, doesn’t have much time without an umbrella.
“Adler!” The ferrofluid spins wildly, forming an exclamation mark before finally relaxing a bit upon seeing the one he was desperately seeking. “Adler, do you know what is going on? Is this another one of Manus’s wicked plans?”
“No, wait, I have a more important question. How are you? Any storm symptoms? Judging by the state of the research center, we don’t have much time before the Storm truly begins - just a few hours at best!”
The man in the room—Adler—seems to pay no attention at all to the rumbling behind him, slowly taking yet another sip straight from the bottle in his hand. He is facing the opposite wall, so it is hard to tell what state he is in. Perhaps he is just drunk as hell—it’s not really out of character for him, even though his alcohol addiction has decreased significantly since he took on the director’s role. If the next storm symptoms included anything alcohol-related, nobody would notice anything wrong with this dumbass.
…
Yes, Ulrich is terrified, and every second without confirmation of his partner’s condition is driving him mad. So please, Adler, be a good boy and turn your pathetic face toward him.
As the human shows no intention of turning around or answering his questions, Ulrich takes a more direct approach and sprints toward the table at which the man is sprawled lazily.
“Ad...!” His indignation dies halfway through his voice modulator as the ferrofluid in the tank starts spinning in turmoil once more.
The man before him has indeed suffered from storm syndrome - half of his face is drowning in oil paint, creating a grotesque work of art. His remaining eye slowly shifts toward Ulrich, blinking twice, slow enough to irritate him on a better day, and finally, with a small scoff, Enigma opens his mouth.
“Ha! Ein laberndes Aquarium? Echt jetzt? So betrunken bin ich auch wieder nicht.” Adler reaches out to knock on the fish tank, only to miss and rest his hand on Ulrich’s shoulder. “Na schön, vielleicht bin ich etwas betrunken - war eh ein langer Tag. Und vielleicht sogar mein letzter. Warum sich also diese kleinen Freuden verkneifen?”
“Adler, with all love and respect, speak English! How many bottles have you consumed? I’m seriously worried about the state of your liver!” Ulrich can’t come up with any sort of plan. They had never really considered such a possibility, so there were no procedures in place in case the Laplace Center stopped being a safe zone during the Storm. The only thing he can do now is distract Adler from whatever is going on in his head, get at least some answers, and try to reach the next safe zone - the Foundation - as quickly as possible.
“Hm? Ulrich? What are you doing here? Don’t you have a mission in Antarctica?” Enigma blinks in confusion, finally focusing his gaze on Ulrich instead of some imaginary flying fish in a flying aquarium he apparently had seen before.
“For the sake of electromagnetic fields, don’t be so slow! When did the symptoms first appear?”
“After lunch, I believe?”
“Shit!” Ulrich can’t help swearing. If Adler’s timing is even remotely accurate, the situation is much worse than Ulrich imagined. Earlier, while running through the corridor, he briefly glanced at the clock display - [12:30]. Just thirty minutes until lunch ends.
Ulrich lets out a weary laugh. With so little time and such severe symptoms, there is nothing they can really do. Will he have to watch Adler be cruelly washed away? As a Laplace researcher who rarely leaves the center, Ulrich hasn’t witnessed many Storms in person. But even if he had, watching his lover disappear before his eyes is the last thing he ever wishes to see.
If the situation weren’t so critical, he might pay more attention to the way he thinks of Adler. It’s been a while since the Storm that brought them back to 1990, and just as long since whatever started between them. When they just started worked together, Ulrich was more than annoyed by that pessimistic alcoholic jerk. But after the Storm, Adler finally got his act together and started shedding his bad habits. It wasn’t a fast process, but it was the first progress he had made in eight years. Since then, they began spending more time together, even though they were no longer on the same team. And Ulrich must admit -at least to himself - that he enjoys the other man’s company. Adler was always sarcastic and bitter, yes, but also smart and kind, even if he never openly showed it.
Oh, Ulrich was so in love with that brat.
But now that very man looks like the palette of a grim artist - half of his face dripping with colorful paint, the other half exhausted and disoriented. And then, suddenly -
Drip
Drip-drip
Drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip-drip
“Shit!!!” Ulrich tightly grabs Adler’s hand, desperately searching for that cursed umbrella. Come on, they produced so many of them that at least one must be in this office.
There is in fact no was umbrella.
“What are you searching for? If it’s the Equilibrium Umbrella than stop wasting your time – you won’t find one there.” Enigma shrugged. “Moreover, what can it possibly do now? Make sure the paints won’t be too watery?”
“Shut up!” Ulrich’s voice shakes violently. He knows there isn’t much help to be found in a pathetic umbrella, but it was something—tiny bits of hope that this, his, ordinary human might survive the Storm.
“!” The hand that Ulrich was holding starts washing away, finger by finger disappearing from his grasp, until there was nothing to hold on. He tries to reach out to hug Adler one last time but Enigma just doesn’t have enough time and Ulrich is just not fast enough.
“It’s time to say goodbye, isn’t it?” Enigma gives a weak, tired smile. “Leb wohl, mein Ulrich. Möge kein Sturm dich je finden.”
“Please, wait! You can’t just leave me like this!”
The last words come out as nothing more than a weary whisper before Adler disappeared completely. The walls around Ulrich start twisting into a weird shapes full of color. Entire room, probably even entire world, now looks like the murder place of an artist before, once again, been reversed in time.
…
“!” Ulrich jolts awake even more disoriented than he was before. The ugly scene of twisted time and space was fresh as day in his memory. Was it all just a weird dream, foreseeing or has he truly gone mad?
The door to the ward opens with a soft creak as a nurse walks in.
“Mr. Ulrich, you are finally awake. It’s been almost a whole week since the ‘flood’ in Antarctica. How are you feeling?” she asks gently, careful not to startle him.
Despite her efforts, Ulrich’s mind floods with theories, making him increasingly anxious. Was it not a dream? Did he faint after the Storm? Does the flood affect arcanists too, even if it’s less deadly than for humans? Does it mean Adler was fully washed away?
He has to check... right now!
Ulrich stands up abruptly, tearing away the medical devices attached to him. Why would they even connect anything in the first place? This body is fully synthetic and shows none of the normal human reactions. The only logical explanation is that this place isn’t Laplace or at least, this Laplace doesn’t know him. Which only confirms his theory. He pushes past the nurse and rushes into the corridor. The good news it is indeed Laplace. The flood hadn’t carried them too far, and the building is almost exactly as he remembers it.
“Mr. Ulrich! Please return to your ward, we need to run a few checkups before letting you leave!” The nurse’s worried voice echoes through the hallway, multiplying as it bounces off the walls. Perhaps his cognitive abilities were damaged after all. He would need to check it later but as for now he has more important matters to attend. Ulrich starts running even faster in the direction so well known to him.
He once again stands before that ill-fated door, but this time couldn’t bring himself to open the doors. He is afraid of something he might see when he enters the room. He is even more afraid of seeing absolutely nothing upon entering.
A narrow strip of light escapes as he opens the door. If he had lungs, he would be holding his breath in fear of broking thus tiny bits of hope he’s still holds within his metal heart
There he is.
Sitting at the same table, surrounded by stacks of documents, as if he hadn’t shattered something inside Ulrich with his nonexistent death. Enigma lifts a tired gaze at the intruder and raises an eyebrow in confusion.
“They finally let you out of the lazaretto? You’re getting old, you know. Even the squirrel - how did you even find one in Antarctica? - recovered faster than you.” He scoffs, clearly trying to provoke him.
And oh, it works.
Ulrich’s anger flares. He had been so worried about Adler that he forgot what a brat he truly is. Rationally speaking, there was no real reason to worry about this annoying human. Even if Adler had been washed away, nothing would have changed drastically except, perhaps, for Ulrich himself. (But he will need more time alone to accept it.)
Instead of being the bigger person and ignore the provocation, Ulrich snaps.
“You were sitting here all pompous while I was running through snowy Antarctica trying to save the world from a mad cult," and you, especially you. "Tell me, Adler, where’s your Equilibrium Umbrella? Or are you planning not to carry one until Laplace stops being a safe place?”
The ferrofluid spins irritably. How can someone be so smart and so incredibly stupid at the same time?
Enigma raises his brow even higher. “Calm down. I didn’t think it would offend you this much. And I never said you did nothing. You know, some lunatics from the Foundation and Laplace even call you and that timekeeper heroes. But why all this fuss about an umbrella? It’s not like there will be a Storm tomorrow and the research center will suddenly become no different from an ordinary building, right? . If that’s the case than we have problem much worse than lack of some magic umbrella in my office.”
Oh now he looks genuinely concerned.
“Of course not! If that were the case, you wouldn’t be the first person I visited!”
“Then I see no problem at all. I have more than enough trash in this office anyway. Besides, it’s not like I leave Laplace often - or leave this office at all with the amount of work you dumped on me after your heroic mission.”
“You—!” Ulrich starts to argue, then stops.
Adler is alive. Sober. Sane.
Suddenly, Ulrich is struck with a strange desire to hug him. To squeeze him in the tightest, warmest embrace imaginable. Just to piss him off, of course.
Without resisting the urge, Ulrich strides forward and leans over the table, pulling Adler into a tight hug against his metal chest.
“Was zur Hölle?! Have you truly gone mad after that ‘flood’?! Ulrich, answer me, or I’ll hand you back to the doctors!”
With one final squeeze, Ulrich lets go. …Did he just pat his head? What is wrong with him today?
“Either go back to the med center or do something useful,” Enigma snaps, clearly trying to change the subject. “Help with the papers you produce at godlike speed! Wait did you just say I was the first person you visited after regaining consciousness?!”
“I clearly did not.”
“Yes, you did. Stop lying.”
///
Medical observation log
Date: 07.04
Time: 12:30
(Time reference calculated relative to pre-reverse baseline)
The patient regained consciousness 6 days and 8 hours following the ninth Storm event. During the period of unconsciousness, the ferrofluid exhibited no atypical activity. Approximately 1.5 hours prior to awakening, spontaneous motion of the ferrofluid was observed. Movement lacked discernible directionality; no structured symbols were formed, and the patient showed no response to external stimuli.
Further diagnostic evaluation is required. Assignment of a temporary supervisor is advised for continuous monitoring and risk mitigation.
Date: 07.04
Time: 13:26
Researcher Enigma (Adler Hofmann) has consented to assume responsibility for patient supervision during the recovery phase. All scheduled examinations and assessments are to be completed no later than 21:00 on 07.04.