Archive of Our Own

When the agent looked into the mirror, an unfamiliar man he had come to call his reflection overtime stared back. His appearance hadn’t changed in the last five years, nor had his morals or views. He still believed himself to be a good person, though there weren't many rightful actions he had executed to back that statement up. There weren’t any to oppose it either, therefore he must, at the very least, be morally gray.

Though that made him wonder, did he even have his own opinions? It was very probable they were heavily influenced by the information—or lack thereof—provided by ‘The Administration’. 

In the past five years he hadn’t tanned; they didn’t let him outside. His hair hadn’t grown out as one might expect, working for the administration required a neat appearance, forcing him to cut it every once in a while. His freckles hadn’t increased, there had been no one to kiss him.

He didn’t recognise the man ogling at him with empty eyes, devoid of any hope, but he was the one who greeted him every morning as he brushed his teeth. Maybe it was a good thing his appearance hadn’t changed, it was the only thing that he knew was the same as before the merge.

He’d like to say that he was as sure of that as he was of his own name, but was his name even Jay Walker? There had been numerous times where he couldn’t even remember his first name, due to only ever being referred to as ‘agent Walker’. 

When they called out to him, he didn’t feel like they were addressing a human being. A person with its own hobbies, preferences, friends, family and dreams. No, they spoke to him as if he were a machine. A robot whose only purpose was to reassign the lost people to their realm. He wasn’t particularly good at his job either, there was no reason to keep him around.

And yet, ever since the agents of the administration had found him wandering around completely disoriented and confused five years ago, his days had been filled with endlessly signing forms that were needed to approve of to do or own basically anything. Except for lying, for some strange reason that was the exception to the rules.

His eyes wandered over to the small scar that split through his eyebrow. He didn’t know how he had acquired it, nor did he know how long it had been there. It was very faint, almost faded–assumingly due to the lack of sunlight. He stared at it for sometime, taking in all the details. The length, the size, its location, the colour. He did so every night before retreating back to his gray bed in his squared gray room with his gray desk and his gray dresser filled with seven identical black suits, one for every day of the week. Every night he took in a feature on his face that distinguished it from all the others that haunted the hallways of The Administration. In the hope that one day if he looked at his face long enough, focusing on a certain trait of it every evening, he would feel a spark of recognition in the morning at the sight of the man staring back at him.

He sighed loudly and spun around, turning his back on the reflection he hadn’t recognised for the past five years, and probably wouldn’t tomorrow.

—

They certainly lacked any form of human response inside of the abnormally large gray cube all the mindlessly working employees were found. The agent wasn’t sure if that was a characteristic of The Administration itself or had to do with it being located in the realm of madness, since he had only been granted a few days to wander his unfamiliar surroundings, before being stuffed inside a small box with a pen, paper and a command to start writing. 

His coworkers weren’t bad people. Not that they were particularly nice either. Their only personality trait seemed to be their extreme organisation and focus on efficiency. That was all that mattered to The administration, so that was all that mattered to them. Always speaking curtly and direct; no beating around the bush. His colleagues wouldn’t wonder about how they got here, what exactly happened during the merge or what they would have for dinner—though that’s not really something to wreck your brain about, since it’s the same crappy meal every time. No one ever smiled around here. The agent wouldn’t be surprised if there was a permit needed to allow feeling happy, he hadn’t bothered to find out, and it seemed no one else had either, for everyone’s lips were always a thin line. 

Even without any memories, agent Walker’s head was still swarmed by thoughts of any kind. How boring it must be to be like them, he would often think as he watched his coworkers fill out documents. The agent didn’t have much, he was locked in a box comparable to a prison cell after all (how was he so sure of what a prison cell looked like?), but his mind could wander free to the depths of his knowledge and he let it do so.

Even now, as head of the reassignment department, he felt something akin to pity as he watched his staff members run around and discuss where the lost soul should be sent. 

The sound of laughter was a foreign concept to him now. Once it probably hadn’t been. He’d like to think that before the merge he had laughed a lot, which was odd because they had told him he had always been a worker here at the administration. He hadn’t once heard the ringing noise of happiness during his time here, nor did he remember it. He had heard himself laugh, of course. An awkward chuckle as he scratched his neck in shame after a stupid mistake or a laugh at his own puns that felt a tad bit forced. His jokes that came ever so naturally to him as if he had done so a million times before, didn’t land with these people. 

Was this actually where I used to work before the merge?

It wasn’t the first time he had doubted if he really used to call these repetitive days his routine in the days before the merge.

—

He was sure that if he were to fill out one more form about where he sent a certain Mr and Mrs Nived, he would quit on the spot, consequences be damned. 

In all honesty he couldn’t care less whether he filled out those forms or not. He’d probably get one of the new hires to do it for him, scaring them with the threat of getting on the boss’s bad side. Being a manager has its advantages.

Instead, agent Walker kept himself occupied with playing videogames. He had found a controller and a Fist2Face first addition disc in the department of demolishments and quickly snatched it before it would have met its doom at the burning flames. In his office he had a large tv screen—like he said, being a manager is awesome sometimes–and after putting his new found lightning powers to the test, he had succeeded in changing the channel to something other than the two the administration had restricted him to. 

And playing videogames was just so awesome. The bright colours that flashed on his screen were a drastic change in contrast to the gray walls surrounding him, hypnotizing the agent into playing more. Whenever he locked himself in his office to ‘do some paperwork’, he would play.

Besides the glowing lights that made the game fun, he also happened to be a pro at the game. Flying through the levels as if it were child’s play. He drowned himself in the temporary pleasure the virtual punches on the screen gave him. 

It became an escape to him. An exit from the boring tasks they had unwillingly saddled him with. His eyes reflected the bright red victory lines that made him feel something other than the loneliness that lay heavy on his heart. 

—

Agent Walker's exasperated sigh echoed through the empty gray hallway as he fiddled with his key. Which was a talent in itself, considering he only owned one. The administration didn’t consider him trustworthy enough to have the keys to any of the closed facilities, even after he had filled out all the ridiculous paperwork needed for such a permit. 

Once he finally got the key in the lock and managed to twist it, he swiftly moved into his room by leaning against the door. The moment it closed behind him he threw himself on his bed, burying his head in the pillow he had finally gotten a license for after two years of continuously signing papers to get it. 

He raised his hand up, pointed directly at the lamp above him with his middle and index finger, and let a shot of electricity flow from his fingertips to the light bulb. 

The first time he had found out about his lightning powers was when he shocked himself awake at three in the morning. He had just assumed the position of head of the reassignment department when it occurred. 

He had played it off as a simple coincidence when it happened the following night. And the night after.

It was only until he woke up with a scar that reached from his index finger all the way to his elbow in the shape of a lightning strike, that he started connecting the dots. 

Once he deemed himself the source of the power, he had experimented with it. Why wouldn’t he? How cool is it to be able to shoot actual electricity out of the tips of your finger? He enjoyed the sensation that crept up from his spine whenever he’d use it.

He didn’t enjoy thinking of what would happen to him if anyone found out so much. He knew what they did with items or people they deemed ‘dangerous’. And so he refrained from using his powers anywhere other than the safety of his own room; the only place in this cursed building where there weren’t any cameras. 

He had tried to stop using it all together, but after the electricity building up inside of him had finally seen the light of day, it wasn’t content with staying hidden inside the man. If he were to stop using his powers for more than two weeks, he would wake up in a cold sweat after having shocked himself.

Now he made sure to use it for turning the lights on and off every day, this way his powers wouldn’t become overbearing, causing him to shock everyone around him in more ways than one.

It was odd, how someone like him working in a large office building and having no sense of purpose whatsoever, would receive strange abilities that seemed to have come out of nowhere. He couldn’t help but ponder whether he had these powers before the merge. 

Presumably not, right? How could he hide lightning powers for all his life while working in a place as strict as this? It was a wonder he was even able to hide it right now; He must have slipped up at some point. 

No matter how much he contemplated, he never got a full grasp of a clear answer, even as he slipped into his pajamas, which consisted of a large white shirt and gray pants, he couldn’t form a clear response.

He stepped into the bathroom, not looking up at the mirror towering over the sink. He had decided not to glance at his reflection today, that way he wouldn’t have to not recognise. 

—

That night he dreamt of faceless colours that felt like a gentle breeze freeing him from the horrors of the not knowing. And although their faces were absent, leaving him feeling empty and sad at not being able to picture them, he could tell that they were laughing. He knew, because so was he. Yet he didn’t hear any laughter. He didn’t know what that sounded like. 

He shocked himself awake again that night. How odd, he could have sworn he had used it to turn the lights on and off the previous day.

—

The head of the department of realm reassignment wouldn’t have known of the newly acquired robot if it weren’t for his companion slipping through his wing of the building. It was a shame, really, that he had decided to do so, for it brought nothing but trouble upon agent Walker. 

He had been peacefully playing videogames, minding his own business hidden away in his office, when Sub-Agent Prentis had interrupted him. Apparently some strange kid had run into their department, asked some questions and proceeded to run off. 

Like all inconveniences, agent Walker didn’t care much for it. It wasn’t his department's problem, thus he wasn’t going to be the one to solve it. 

If he cared enough to ponder about it for longer than the interaction lasted, he would probably have hoped that it would’ve stayed at that, a minor inconvenience, but when has luck ever been on his side? It was only until after the companion and robot had escaped along with some other guy that he learned the robot was actually confiscated for messing around with portals that agents like to use for travelling (since when can robots do things on their own?). They had been keeping him in Mail Cubical 45-67 A, which also happened to be the place the associate and other guy had hid out before they got split up into different tubes. Allegedly, the trio was looking for a certain ‘Dragon Core’ that had been classified as an extremely dangerous class B artifact, slated for immediate destruction and heading for the Department of demolitions. 

Now why would the head of the department of realm reassignment know so much about what was happening outside his job description? Because that’s all these higher-ups had been yelling at him for the past half hour, not to mention the endless paperwork that he had been forced to sign. 

Apparently filling in as a cop was just another part of his position now, since the administration had expected him to capture the aide of the robot in order to ensure the destruction of the Dragon Core. Why doesn’t he just turn back the merge while he’s at it? That way there wouldn’t have been any Robot to drag back.

“Your actions proved to be completely unacceptable. Not only is it against company policy section C act 3, stating that the belongings of the administration that happen to escape are top priority, you also went against agent Allen’s direct order to capture the suspects infiltrating our building.” 

“I understand sir, it won’t happen again,”

It had been going on like that for at least half an hour and he was starting to get sick of it. Repeating the same sentence in a slightly disapproving tone, certainly wasn’t going to improve his efficiency. 

“As article 87B states,” The annoying sound continued, coming back like a mosquito he was sure he had gotten rid of, or had at least filtered out underneath his pile of thoughts.

“What section?” Agent Walker couldn’t help but snarkily remark. Agent whatever-his-last-name-was didn’t get the obvious sarcasm latched into his tone and proceeded to explain exactly where Article 123ABC–what was it again that he said?–could be found. 

“The lost goods are now your problem.” Well, that's a new one.

“My problem?” He gaped at the agent. “I don’t see how my department correlates to the Dragon Core and robot in any way. Shouldn’t it be the responsibility of those who had acquired the products in the first place?” Yikes, when had he gotten so formal?

What a strange thing to question, he’s always had to be formal in the administration.

“Indeed, it's your task to help retrieve them, along with agent Allen and agent Underwood. You’re leaving in a week, prepare well.”

—

Before becoming manager, agent Walker had worked as a regular employee. He started off behind a desk with a stack of papers. Luckily, the higher ups could understand that him bouncing his leg up and down as he chewed on his pencil and clicked his pen rapidly wasn’t ideal for his colleagues. And so they moved him to a more practical position. He still worked behind a desk, but now he could move around freely as he inspected the people rescued from the space bubbles and determine where they were originally from. 

Back when he used to do so, his feelings were abnormally large. It was as if all he ever did was feel. The only thing he had that was truly his, not just some asset belonging to The Administration he was borrowing were his emotions, and they could be felt so greatly that it often became overwhelming. It was the opposite of the emptiness he drowned in now that he was the head of the department. 

The thing he had felt the most those earlier days was a crippling anxiety of not being sure. He hadn’t been sure of anything those days, but now he wasn’t even sure if he was doing his job right.

The higher ups wouldn’t care, they didn’t concern themselves with where the people seen as inconveniences to them end up, but he did. He didn’t want to accidentally mess a stranger's whole life up, because he thought they were from the departed realm instead of the cloud kingdom. What if they had a family? Kids? Friends?

There were too many what-ifs that haunted his mind anytime he pressed the button ‘confirm’ and sent the pair to their—hopefully not new—home. It wasn’t like he could wake up the couples and ask them himself, but he often wished he could. Even if it were only for his own selfish benefit, so that he could soundly sleep at night without the anxiety of messing up crashing down on him. 

He comforted himself with the thought that at least the strangers were together; The space bubbles only carried pairs. He didn’t think about the people who were alone when the merge happened, where they could possibly have ended up, for that wasn’t his job. He had enough things to worry about with just this already.

Mulling over other people’s families made him think of his own. There wasn’t a lot that came to mind when he did so. He wasn’t sure if he had any family. He must have had parents at some point at least.

In those early days of the administration, when the doubt of whether he really fitted in here had already set in, he clung to the hope that if this wasn’t where he truly belonged, he’d have friends outside that would surely look for him. 

But as the months crept by and no one ever came to rescue him from the haunted hallways he was imprisoned in, that fragile hope started to crumble. His emotions didn’t feel so big anymore. They were dulled down to a shade of what they once were. 

It seemed like no one cared enough about him to look for him. They’d surely have come otherwise, right? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been sure of a single thing since gaining consciousness.

After he was fairly certain that no one would come to save him, he stopped thinking about his maybe-family. They didn’t care enough to wonder about him, so why would he waste precious brain space pondering about what could have been, or maybe even what was?

He didn’t concern himself with the anxiety that used to creep up his spine after making a decision that could potentially ruin someone’s life when he assigned them to a (possibly wrong) realm anymore. In fact he didn’t think about anyone other than himself.

He had become exactly like the higher-ups he had previously scolded. 

—

In hindsight, maybe he could have been a little more excited about the idea of going outside, but his pride wouldn’t let him. He brooded on the unfair accusation that it had all been his fault, when the kid had only been at his department for nothing more than a minute at most.

Exactly a week after his lecture, he exited the building he’d spent every waking second of his days for the entirety of his consciousness through a blue portal along with four other agents. The order he had received had been short and clear: “Bring back the robot and all those accompanying him”.

Now, agent Walker wouldn’t call himself an expert on the field of ‘the outside’. Heck, he didn’t even know what shade the sky was! And yet even he definitely knew that it wasn’t anything like this. 

The space he had found himself in was dark. If he focused he could hear the sound of water dripping to his right. He squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust to his newfound surroundings. 

His hand reached out to anything steady he could use to help orientate him. He felt the cold harsh material known as stone to him underneath his fingertips when he collided with the wall. 

His best guess was that he was in some sort of cave.

His co-agents were nowhere to be seen. Did something go wrong because it was his first time using a portal? He couldn’t be sure. He contemplated calling out to anyone, but he doubted the presence of his coworker would do him any good.

The sound of metal clanging echoed through the cave. The agent’s ears twitched at the sudden noise. He looked up at the source, and found a skeleton hastily climbing down a ladder, followed by a bright yellow light floating around them.

That must be an accomplice.

As the skeleton looked around frantically he decided to make his presence known. No better element than that of surprise, heh?

“Attention!” His voice was accompanied by that of a shot from his laser gun pointed directly at their feet. “My name is agent Walker. By the all-encompassing authority of the administration, I hereby demand your surrender!”

The skeleton’s arms were raised in the air. He tried looking intimidating by furrowing his brows and moving his gun forward in her direction a bit. They, however, did not seem the least frightened at his threats. Rather annoyed than anything else.

“I said, by the all-encompassing authority of the administration, I hereby demand your surrender!” He couldn’t blame them to be honest, he was also getting pretty annoyed at the sound of his own voice repeating the phrase that had been drilled into him ever since he had been burdened by this mission. 

If he ever found that kid, it wouldn’t be pretty.

The skeleton seemed to hesitate for a moment, drawing out an ‘ehm’ sound, before bluntly replying: “No,” and had the audacity to thank him afterwards.

“You’re an accomplice of the equipment called ‘Zane’, right?” He didn’t await their answer and continued his attempt at forcing them into submission with words, he’d never trained to be a fighter before and as fragile as they may seem, he wasn’t sure if he could win from the skeleton. His bullets wouldn’t do much against bones either way. “Rules say I have to put you under arrest.”

“You could put me under arrest, sure, but I get the sense your heart is not really in it.” That caught him off guard. He raised an eyebrow at them, wondering if they believed their own words or were looking for a way out. The hand holding his lasergun lowered as he let out a sigh.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Walker wasn’t sure what came over him, but something about the way their voice raised and lowered at the start and end of their sentences, and how the little mannerisms they had made them seem so human—despite them being a literal corpse—, it was such a change from the monotonic words the other agents spoke with, that he immediately found himself latching on to the possibility to complain to another being that seemed to experience actual emotions. “Seems a little silly to me. This job is 

really rulesy, you know? I don’t remember what I used to do before the administration, but this is not the coolest career or anything.” He let out a slight chuckle at the overwhelming relief that flooded him after getting that off of his chest. But alas, he was still an agent of the administration and had a job to do. 

“Oh well,” He started, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from his backpocket. “I’m supposed to capture you, so can you just let me do that? Don’t make it weird, hmm?” 

Before the skeleton could agree, which he was certain that they were about to do, given his persuasive speech and all, the yellow glow that had absentmindedly hovered behind them neared the agent at a high speed.

“Hey! Get out of here, nightlight!” He swayed his arm around the light, trying to chase it off like one might do to an insect, but that only made it pick up the pace. He ducked as the light drifted towards his head. 

“Ah! Knock it off,” His voice sounded pathetically annoying to himself as he whined to some stupid light. Before he got the chance to dwell on that though, the light suddenly expanded into a thin round plate that reflected like a mirror.

And there it was again; The unfamiliar man. However, though this man was not at all familiar to him, he wasn’t the one he had been greeted with every morning. Sure, they looked alike, but this man was younger, a boy, even. Clearly still wet behind the ears. The boy’s hair checked out, still similar to that of the man. The same amount of dark freckles contrasted nicely to his pale skin. Their faces, however, had a slight difference in maturity. Not to mention the eyes of the man were a lot emptier than those that stared back at him right now. 

“What the?” Who was this boy and why did he look so much like the man in the mirror? 

The agent tried reaching out to him, a strange urge to shelter the boy dawning upon him, but as he touched the light a spark flickered from his hand. “Whoa?” He gasped as more electricity shots emerged from his open palm. The other hand that had been holding the handcuffs immediately dropped them. 

“How did you know I could do that?!” Panic seeped into his hoarse voice. He waved his hand around to make the lightning disappear. “No one knows I can control lightning, and no one can find out!” It seemed silly; talking to a light, but he had been conversing with a skeleton mere seconds ago, right? Now that he mentioned it, where had the skeleton gone?

Before he could ponder on that thought, the mirror retook its original orb shape and moved around him again at a rapid pace. He tried to catch the light by swaying both arms around it, almost like he was pulling it into a hug. 

“Get away, you’re making this so weird!” He yelled as he resorted to his final method and tried throwing himself on the glow. It hadn’t worked, obviously. By the time he had sat up again it was gone, along with the skeleton.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as he gathered his thoughts. This wasn’t good at all. Not only had he failed his one job and let the accomplice slip, someone else had found out about his lightning abilities. The administration would surely give him a ton of crap for his mistake (only the former, of course. They could never find out about the latter).

Shit, he never wanted to go on this cursed mission in the first place! He didn’t even get to find out what shade the sky was.

“Powers like yours are best not kept hidden,” A deep voice spoke to him, seemingly coming from behind. It startled him to the point where he flinched backwards.

“Who’s there!” He yelled out, frantically looking around as he did so. It was bad enough an orb and a bundle of bones had found out about his lightning, he couldn’t have this stranger know it too. He gripped his gun tightly and pointed it towards the shadows. 

The voice continued, not bothering with showing itself. “You know, Jay Walker, there had been a time where your powers had been properly used, not harbored like they are now. You could go back to those times.”

How did they know that name? Before the agent had a chance to voice his question, heavy footsteps approached from behind. He spun around, raising his gun ever so slightly.

A wolf-man approached. Pink markings were visible at the crown of his fur, black as the night. His eyes were a similar pink, though they weren’t very vibrant due to the lack of light in the cave. He was wearing shoulder patches over his pink and blue outfit. Whoever he was, he at least knew how to colour coordinate. 

“Its been a while, Jay,” The same voice as before erupted from the wolf-man. How had he moved around so quickly? The agent looked around, unsure of how to respond to such a greeting.

“I’m sorry, are we familiar?” He sheepishly asked.

“Familiar? You were my best warrior! We fought alongside each other in the Wyldness before the merge ripped you away from us.” 

Us? The implication of his words made him shiver. He looked the wolf before him up and down, taking in every detail. This man spoke of multiple people. He spoke of a ‘together’, a time before the merge when he apparently hadn’t been alone, when there had been people fighting alongside him. He had been a warrior!

He spoke to him as if he had a family. As if he’d been part of that family.

How many nights had he wished for a pair of arms to trap him in their warmth? How many sleepless hours had he laid in his bed staring at the round tl-lights in his room wondering what it would feel like to have someone that cared about him beyond his efficiency rate? 

“What?” Was all he could muster. His mind was spinning at the revelation. Were his doubts correct? Had he really not been an administration worker all his life? 

“We have been searching for you since the start of the merge. It hadn’t taken long to track you down to the land of madness, but you must understand that the administration is a very secretive place that is hard to infiltrate without a permit.” There was a bitterness in his words that agent Walker could not place, but he found himself not minding. There had actually been people looking for him. And to think that he had given up on the idea that maybe there had been people who cared about him!

“That’s,” He hesitated, unsure of whether words would suffice for all the feelings the man had just set off like fireworks inside of him. “Wow,”

“Join my army once more, Jay. The robot that caused you to reunite with me today wasn’t something as simple as a coincidence. That light you just saw? They’re all connected to one another. They know of you, Jay, at least they think they do. They’re hunting you down, looking for a chance to catch you off guard and eliminate you.” The excess use of that name made the agent feel slightly uneasy. Among other things.

“Eliminate? Why would anyone want to-” He didn’t get the chance to finish his question.

“Because of your powers, Jay! They all want them. The robot and his team, the administration, they’re all using you for their own gain. You have been my friend for a long time before the merge, I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.”

“But the administration doesn’t know of them, do they?” This was messing with his head, he had to sit down for a minute. Presumably a bit longer.

“Do you really think they wouldn’t notice? They’re waiting for a chance to strike, they all are!”

The urge to escape was probably what drove him into answering. In all honesty, the decision would have been a no-brainer even without the threat of being taken advantage of for his powers by the administration and all other people who were aware of them hanging above his head. He would’ve dropped everything for even the mere possibility of having a place to belong. A group of people that he trusted, that made him feel welcome, safe and loved. He would kill to not be suffocating alone anymore.

“Okay,” He nodded, determined and entirely sure of his decision, “I’ll join you…”

“Ras,”

“I’ll join your army, Ras”

A laugh escaped the Wolf man. A genuine belly-laugh that sounded like music to—Formally agent—Walker’s ears. 

His life had started five years ago in the realm of madness. It has been horribly pointless so far. Between getting scolded by the once in charge, filling out endless forms for no logical reason and playing videogames, his life hadn’t brought much of a chance. But at least now, after five years of living, he heard the sound of laughter reach his ears. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh like he’d expected. It didn’t feel like the joyous smiles from the colours that visited him in his dreams. It was a cold snicker, almost maniacally that escaped the wolf-man.

Yet he couldn’t help but join in, grinning widely at the opportunity of serving a purpose.

Of having a place to call home.