Chapter Text
|Eridu, Hollow Zero - Year 100, BHZD
“Fluke”
Lady Luck. Murphy’s Law. It bore many names. Many pedestrian terms. Banally so. Often attributed to strokes of good luck that logic couldn’t unravel. Equally, a disaster few were ever prepared to challenge, let alone meet. Regardless of effect, it was an event so utterly unforeseen or unlikely that it occurred seemingly to spite those odds. Paired with sufficient masks that suited its every invocation and continue to obscure the true shape.
An out. An overused, overdone, cowardly, little excuse for concepts which were accounted for improperly, if even acknowledged at all. Absolution from man’s missteps and limitations; incompetence only possible through mortal means.
Beautifully imperfect man was, that its intrinsic chaos could produce the lesser favored outcome with almost no effort of the intelligent forces involved. In a way, deriders of order could take solace in the inherent madness that lay in every godless flesh. Some may call such providence the proof of “free will”.
For Professor Ithas Arche, Founder and Instructor of Helios Academy, foremost scientist and revolutionary to the study of Hollows and Etheric Matter, one of the first ever to be awarded the title of “Void Hunter”...
…He detested flukes.
He reviled them. Castigated them. Openly ridiculed them. Mercilessly dissect their every aspect. Condemned many of their benefactors. Would graciously manslaughter a physical manifestation should it dare pass him by on public sidewalk, striking in a way to ensure a swift dramatic death, dialed to maximum pain for a man of reason only had so much time in the day to entertain momentary sadism-
“RAGHHHG”
The unseemly interruption to the lecture brought the good professor back to his immediate surroundings. With no sign of movement or warning, the Hati’s maw attempted to shut around the man’s right hand. Feral instinct compelled the Etheric beast to burst off the wall. Its angle was perfect. Its teeth: razor-sharp. Hesitation was a nonexistent concept for the ravenous creature. Lesser Hollow Investigators would likely lose a hand for such a critical oversight.
Arche was far from lesser. If the flame-headed “man” still had eyebrows, they would rest unmoved.
His palm casually opened. Hazy ignition jetted from his black-gloved digits. The responding etheric flame pervaded down the multicolored mucosa, exiting upon the sole unburnt fuel before it. The ethereal could barely react to its first and final mistake.
Pressure snapped the mandible like plywood, blowing open the Hati’s jaw as one’s fist tears through drenched paper. The monstrous hound fell boneless at his feet, smoke emanating from the newly formed cavity.
It was not the Professor’s only victim today. Nor would it be the last.
The companion pack moved quickly. Forty members advanced, jagged claws beating the broken highway below their feet. Behind the secondary detachment, another ninety hounds prowled at the ready.
Their advance barely entered his attention. Such numbers were pitiful, laughable so. He gestured forward, closing his fist around a sphere of light. The star swiftly collapsed and expanded in retribution. Like an infernal web, lines of eminence struck out between his fingertips, lasering toward the offending hoard with merciless haste.
Just as mercilessly, contact crashed through his “captives”. One lost its foreleg. Another, their lower torso. One’s tail came clean off. Another met impromptu decapitation.
Cries of agony came upon the man’s ears. He strengthened his offensive. Another round of etheric arson.
Yet not every beast was incapacitated. Those that could move continued the “hunt”. The ninety behind had ceased observation. Slobbering roars came from the deep of their gut as they once more closed in upon their prey. The Void Hunter stood unperturbed. Almost flippant to the approaching threat.
Then, moments before etheric monstrosities could overrun the lone torch…
“Overload.”
The initial pack’s wounds glowed a violet light.
Foreign ether burst from the cauterized openings. The wolfish creatures combusted on the spot, innards flying as shrapnel. Their comrades were pelted; burning gore sank into their bodies. Another set of lights emerged. They too self-ignited.
There was no escape. The Hatis’ bodies were too close. The explosions too large. Another screamed as a shard tore straight into their Ether Core. Its fragged structure collapsed inward and once more plagued its fellows with the symphony of carnage.
Its chain of explosions finally muted into silence when only fiery soot and dissolving carapace remained on the ruined rooftops. The pack’s last cadavers disappeared, liquefied into the etheric components that crafted them.
Apathetically, Arche brushed off the flakes of the initial aggressor. Routine cleanup upon their return; the Ethereals here always turned rabid the moment any of them came too far out of reach. The “Karmatic Dominance” Theory verified nicely with their strike patterns, but further tests were required before he would grant his student full validation. For now, he triggered the device upon his shoulder. “Squad 1 - Professor Arche to Team. Status?”
It was a semi-pointless inquiry. Protocol, beaten into him by years of arduous exploration and constant mid-experiment disasters. Arche understood that state of affairs like the back of his personal logbook. As with anything, his mind filed a debate.
Point: Hollow Zero is still filled with many anomalies; from highly mutated, highly evolved Ethereals, ranging from humanoid abominations to behemoths the size of cities. To the ever-changing sets of Fissures, many mazes capable of rendering the finest Investigators into the fetal position. To operate in this place was to be trapped in a hellish plane with all the aforementioned and still attempt to fulfill the mission heralded by the ordinary world, blanketed with little security besides one’s own skills and luck.
And Hollow Zero consumed both rapidly the longer one stayed.
If Arche were running this experiment with any pedestrian team of investigators, they would likely be classified as “an assistant team of disposables”. Ripe to use as cannon fodder or “lab rats for phenomena study” at his convenience, rather than any reasonable help.
Systematic status reports would be a bare necessity if anyone normal wished to accompany him to his usual mission.
Counterpoint:
The clangs of cut Etheric matter and long dying wails rang over the comms.
Through the torment of beasts came the hum of severance. A thundering silence surely split the skies, absolute fulmination radiating through the fractured space. And far from the only disturbance.
Whistles of feathered wing-daggers and trick-arrowheads crumpled into what could only be retreating bodies. Metal clanged in unison before cutting through the wind, a deafening explosion hailing after shattering concrete. Roaring fire crashed through opposition, a thousand slashes cutting every dimension of their empty shell.
At the sound of a singularity collapse surely rending another crater into whatever building it was thrown into, a receiver finally picked up.
{Sunbringer: Squad 3 - Sunbringer to Arche. We’re progressing as scheduled. Preparing for extraction at the designated Fissure.}
Ah yes. His colleagues. His team. While Arche was the first, the subtitle of “City’s Defenders,” by its wording alone, was never to remain a singular figure. Multiple individuals followed after him, into the greatest undertaking they could commit within their fractured world.
Advancing humanity’s longest-running investigation (war) against Hollows by a leap many would not soon forget, they too became recognized—not merely by the Eridian administration but by the Professor himself.
Be it the edge of their blade or the sharpness of their wit, his six fellows stepped forward into revolution. To crush the etheric deadlock with their own bare hands and seize a new future. For that, alone, each of the other six had his personal respect.
(Even if he would never say it aloud)
If Hollow Zero was the nightmarish hell for the average Investigator, then it is little exaggeration to call all 7 of Void Hunters the endless apocalypse for Etheric kind.
The listing of threats to such an entourage were limited to a mere handful. Namely-
{Joyous: Ughhh. Are we done? I need something for the hangover….}
The line cut out for a moment.
{Joyous: Joyous here, Squad 2-}
Despite not drinking himself, Arche had felt the beginnings of migraine. How in the name of mass conservation does he keep sneaking in-
{Hoshimi: Squad 2 - Hoshimi to Arche. Joyous appears to be practicing his drunken navigation training. He is performing more splendidly than usual. I am currently running through my “assists for drunk Proxy Fury” training. Which is also progressing smoothly}
{Sunbringer: I see. Let him tucker out. JoyJoy gets angry with that particular brew-}
{Joyous: COME BACK HERE YOU T-SHAPED FU-!}
This time Arche let the line cut again. Yes. Few threats. Handful. Essentially none at all.
Except for this.
These conversations. Daily occurrences. Anticipated disruptions that had not ceased since their first collaboration. When the Professor of then, oh so naive in his appraisal of the cost-benefit analysis, offered a method for long-term communication between them. Direct access is worth the potential interruptions, he ignorantly reasoned
Many would consider the bombardment of quirks and dynamics to be “no threats” at all. Harmless fun. The most arrogant would even have the gall to claim it a “boon” that distracts from the mundane aspects of his tasks.
Arche disagreed. Vehemently disagreed. First, his tasks were important regardless of normalcy. And second, he would very much like some of the mundanity back. Not another interrogation from that Intelligence Construct about animal behavior. Another fallout of Hoshimi being allowed in front of a microphone. Another prank extortion threat from Dan. And especially not another call to Sunbringer about escorting her alcoholic disaster of a partner out of his damn academy.
A crackling strike preceded the third response. With heavy heart, he picked up. Someone he was assured (read: hoping to the ether) would not update him with nonsense.
{Vike: Squad 2 - Vike to Arche. Our objective is almost complete. We’re finishing up as Joyous leads us back to the exit}
Oh, thank the miracle of reason. Arche’s internal ratings of Colonel Vike had risen rather impressively in the past few years. Mainly for her ease of wrangling matters such as their colleagues' eccentricities.
{Vike: Ready to go home, Professor?}
The Professor swallowed the open camaraderie with grace and, as always, returned it professionally. Success first. Then… potentially allowing this woman the time to shave off some hours of his time to “after-hours group bonding” with the other hunters. Again. If data processing didn’t take too long.
“Complete your objectives, Colonel Vike. Such topics can be discussed further at the outpost.”
A notable pause held before he heard a reply.
{Vike: …Alright, Professor. We’ll get it done}
The Professor could physically manufacture more believable cheer.
…Arche would have to reassess his tones again. Too harsh.
Why was being cordial always harder with people he actually liked than dancing around profit-minded investors? Was it because of the acting? The intentions? Multiple hours pouring through books regarding assistance generally failed to account for the circumstances he found himself in. Was this an inherent issue?
A certain Angel Thiren was far from enthused about letting his mistake pass.
{Dan: Don’t be rude, Professor. Even uncouth gangsters have treated dear Beli with more tact~}
“I’m being practical, Dan.” Arche fired back; reflexively defending a crumbling hill he would otherwise have long surrendered. Unlike his constant failures in properly articulating to the Guard of Staves’ Colonel, communicating with her partner, Lieutenant Colonel Remielle Dan, came rather easily.
A long, measured, and utterly “mature” raspberry blew through Squad 3’s comms. Arche rolled his nonexistent eyes and considered manually cutting the network again. He was quite assured the young mercenary would read his silence perfectly.
Yes, constant bickering was a most familiar language between the two.
“Forgive me for advocating for less risk.” Technically valid as an argument; a hati nearly took his hand off for dozing away- providing a necessary self-lecture. It would do them all well not to risk a maiming before their return. If only for the issue of the press.
{Dan: Hmph~}
She ended communications herself with a hint of unbelief. Arche half-wondered if the young mercenary finally clocked how little the man cared for his own body. There was no danger great enough to warrant bodily caution in him—if his corpse of a shell even held such instincts within.
Discovery rarely found the cowardly but would always meet the bold. And with the Enchainer phenomenon remaining a mystery to unravel, the need for such gambles only heightened. It was not as though any born naturally could nor would submit to thorough examination. Artificial recreation, unless Karma Core analysis hit a breakthrough, seemed to become their only long-term observation method now.
Idly, there came the particular idea again; he should really be advocating the opposite. Project: Sunseeker would not truly bear fruit unless the proper conditions for awakening were met. Stress levels. Ether saturation. A useful yet sufficiently large companion Hollow. The majority of which could be achieved by merely sending the wielder into the highly dense etheric fray. Many zones were growing past acceptable limits in recent years. With their rise was a new wave of phenomena to dissect. There were many practical reasons to try a more focused test if only to grant a little more time.
And considering the amount of trust they put to do so without much question-
Arche clamped down before the line finished. He rolled the option into a nice rug, bent it in two, diced it to gibbons, and then stuffed each piece in a separate mental vault to hopefully never haunt him again. The Professor knew better.
Slowly. Arche reminded himself. Haste could as easily invite failure as it could aggregate success. There was no cause to push his colleagues harder than they strained themselves. Keep with the plan. Hollow expansion was still within predicted metrics, at least for the next few years. Let ether slowly build up within the implanted fragment. Get their bodies more acclimated with the new authorities. And with any luck, his six colleagues will transition to the next stage of deicide without any unforeseen consequences.
The cynic in him berated such blatant optimism. He blamed the light in Sunbringer’s eyes when she ratified their objective.
Utterly switching gears, instead of lingering on that mess, he doubled his pace to the exit fissure while performing a quick mental calculation on how to achieve morale restoration.
His initial meetings still needed work; the Professor could at least stand by the subsequent recoveries. He was a tad more graceful in measuring their delivery.
“…If your group truly finishes the rest of your samples within the remaining operation; maybe, just maybe… I’ll reconsider attending tonight’s weekly informal competitions.”
The long pause was sign enough of the shock that was surely writing itself across the mercenary’s face.
{Vike: Really?}
‘Yes. Really.” He just needed to put etheric matter sample data composition on the back burner. A slight risk to result accuracy (“and lab safety,” said a voice that sounded suspiciously like young Carol. He dutifully patted her pouting apparition away) but not any more than most of the others he had on the back burner. Especially the-
{Dan: Oh~? The good Professor considering something over his research?}
Annnnnd now they were doing this. The bird won’t just pass up a moment now, won’t she? The answer was no; she would not be Dan otherwise. If his inventory guess was right, she was already recording the logged conversation.
{Falkenhaye: Addition - attendance may yield contribution to curbing observed competitive streak}
The damn intelligent tincan picks now of all times to interject?
{Joyous: Oh. He’s attending? Sweet. New insults to pickup}
Joyous as always. Sobering up the moment the snark hits its peak. Treacherous f-
{Vike: Definitely attending. Professor Arche, we will teach you how to play nice with others}
A round of laughter passed through the linked communications grid. He could almost see Vike and Dan’s shit-eating grins. That damn drunkard rubbing his hand in anticipation. The image was most displeasing. “Damnable independent contractors and their brutish, barbaric-“
{Sunbringer: Hmmmmm}
Gawked would have described the Void Hunter’s reaction to the Squad 3’s audio. In terms of the Marcel CEO’s expressions, that was her hum of consideration.
Wonderful. Betrayal on all sides. Allies zero; he was doomed from the moment the Colonel mentioned the topic. Arche stood beside the better part of valor and wordlessly disconnected.
The fissure mercifully came into view. Checking his portable HDD system--a lovely birthday gift from his dear apprentice--the others were coming upon their marked dropoff sites as well. Squad 2 in particular had held up their end of the bargain with a full etheric matter canister. Arche was already prepping for the backlog analysis.
Reaching the precipice where a black tear in space stood open, the professor stalled before the tunnel to the outside.
He expended more than a little ether in the entire operation. Imbalances in his body can easily originate from a lack of suitable “fuel” per se. A problem which would fix itself eventually due to his “condition” regarding the core, it was quite a pain to sit through slowly refueling to proper functionality. There was no harm in using the ambient reserves in a Hollow instead to speed up the process.
Confirming his colleagues’ predicted exits with the payloads, Arche took the last thirty seconds of the operation to reflect.
More than enough time to finish his earlier internal lecture.
In synopsis, the Good Professor had much more pressing matters to ruminate toward than focusing, or rather relying, on the tender “mercies” of the statistically unreliable.
He could not count on the good fortune of intermittent victory forever.
Time was gold to many. To the Void Hunters, more than gold. It was their lifeline. The most precious resource that dwindled like candlelight as the days passed. The Creator dwelled in whatever mockery of heaven it writhed in for only so long, and the next Enchainer always ran the risk of paving the way back to their progenitor. A Messenger alone had egged on enough factions to nearly cripple Eridu’s administrative structure.
Resolving that crisis required owing a favor to the Mayflowers. Something that Arche knew would bite him in the rear posterior someday. It was bad enough that family’s representatives constantly made oblique references toward his Academy’s research.
(And that damn heir fraternizing with Carole during education hours, oh lest the Professor forget.)
Arche refused to pray solely on a miracle to save them. Their advancements. The Rosetta Data. The HDD. The Void Hunter Weapons. Helios. They came not of the proverbial ether alone. Small victories yet victory nonetheless. The congregation of paths is what led to their success, and to cease marching would invite the very death they sought to destroy. The death that swept over him and his fellow students once. The death that left him the etheric flame of a corpse he is now.
Failure was never an option. And he would not permit the whims of fate to decide the outcome alone. It would be his choice. Their choice. To struggle. To writhe. And, after enduring insurmountable hell, claim deserved triumph.
Arche stepped through the tear.
It’s like what Dan toasted to once. With all our powers and skills, we can go anywhere to where we seek. We’ll transcend even the providence of flu-
{{HDD: Contact — Fissure Anomaly. Caution Advised}}
A gut-twisting gong resounded around him.
Instantly, Arche comprehended something was wrong. Suction pull was around 60% stronger upon entry to a normal fissure. Edge coloration flashed at least twelve more shades of neon and seven times faster. And its groaning tears were only getting louder. His mind running a world a minute, Arche continued cataloguing abnormalities, failing to find a fallibility.
The Void Hunter attempted exit. It failed against manual pressure. Entry suction had nearly doubled in the last second. He countered with propulsion. Etheric jets from the rest of his limbs fired away. Yet the opposition would not release him so easily.
Another second into the struggle and the coms rang again. In panic.
{Sunbringer: Arche, I’m detecting abnormalities in our exit fissures. I’ve lost both of our squadmates’ signal-- am being pulled into the vortex as well. What is occurring on-}
{Joyous: -Shit, it got her too. Hey, Arch! Something’s up with the exit. It’s sucking everything in a five block radius---- Even getting me while in phantasm mode. Go-}
Both lines cut simultaneously. Pulling back in his own war, Arche saw the last two signals disappear. What is happening? Where did they-
The pull had ceased all pretenses. Suction quintupled in intensity as the entire street he stood upon cracked, wind crawling into the now gaping chasm. Arche responded in kind, impromptu thrusters reaching critical. The counter was valiant. The fissure pulled in more of his arm. It wanted the owner.
Damnit. Arche readied multiple ether lines over the extremity. Footing was moments from complete collapse. If this thing wouldn’t let go, he’d let them have a dead man’s arm. You won’t have m-
Suction achieved tenth intensity. Concrete tore out from under him. Flipped, the Void Hunter was dragged in utterly. Legs, torso. Every hint of the flames holding his vitality from glove to cloak. The fissure swallowed his body whole.
This is how it ends? The Professor couldn’t say. He’d never encountered this kind of phenomenon to grant a hypothesis. It could be anything from transport into another Hollow to being swallowed whole by a new Etheric entity. Carole would have a lot to clean up on if it was the latter. A seven-core Enchainer might actually bring back the Creator, heh. What morbid comedy he found in that thought faded quickly.
As his crown torchlight faded into the darkness, Arche’s agitated and calculating mind still had one last item to convey to the broken world.
“Damn. You.”
He cursed the province responsible for this situation. The province always responsible for these messes in the face of logic. Its current face humiliated the Founder of Helios totally and completely.
And if it really is the end then, thrice be damned by his departing burning soul…
“FLUUUUUUKES-"
With that last word carrying him into the awaiting abyss, Arche promptly blacked out.
<->
|New Eridu, Janus Quarter, Sixth Street - Year 1X, AHZD
“Gah!”
Blue lights flickered like a literal spark in her eyes.
It burns!!! Drowsiness died a unsightly death as the girl immediately jolted to the pain. The dark-haired writhed in agony at the phantom migraine. Almost worse than testing out that shock collar they got for one commission. With no offing the source, though.
Vaguely, she heard familiar footsteps rush right down the stairs.
“Belle!” Her brother’s concern was an old friend at this point. Quickly, Belle lifted a thumbs-up. By their teacher, she knew that he was already worrying himself into another sleepless night if she didn’t. As if he hadn’t nearly fainted not twelve hours ago.
The agony subsiding as quickly as it came was bonus reassurance. “I’m fine, Wise!”
The gray-haired co-manager duly filed, then ignored her reassurance as their implants connected. “Remote diagnostics are… green. Running secondary checkups. External connection ports-“
“Big Brotherrrr. Ugh.” Belle stirred up, putting a hand between her ever-doting brother’s face and her own. Groggily, of course. It had been a rough couple of days. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
Mercifully, he actually did let go this time and helped her up. The Co-Manager of Sixth Street’s beloved video store Random Play fully lifted her head from the checkout desk, rubbing the dust from her eyes as she returned to the waking world. The establishment had long reached closing hours, the nightlights of their district long flickering on and barely a person in sight upon the darkened concrete and asphalt.
The mounted shelves nearby, emptied of their contents, reminded Belle of the day’s events. In terms of business, Random Play sold quite well. Rentals, purchases, and of course the monthly passes. Refreshes and new members. Sorely needed in Belle’s opinion, both for economic reasons and personal pride.
As for the other business, they were hitting fairly well on that front too. Venus was sweet in that regard. Her attempts at “breaking in the rising stars” were the epitome of adorable. It took a lot to not clue in the commission broker, if solely for the entertainment value. But the current arrangement did attract many low-sight commissions, so Belle held her tongue. Fruitfully difficult; of course, but under the radar of the NEPS nonetheless. Between the “arrest” of Phaethon and the Vision Corporation Incident, it’d pay to not run right back into the heat of the law too quickly while working back their rep.
Not that I wouldn’t mind something more lively.
With the casualty of their main account still felt in their revenue, not to mention long-built standing amongst the Proxy scene, the seasoned “Investigator” was weighing the odds of taking the more dangerous coms anyway. And with the investigation with Belobog Industries… it’d have paid to have some of their former fame more on hand. If only to have easier access to their own investigation into just what that ethereal-fleshed thing was.
The Manager shivered at the memory of its familiar scream, implants flickering to the guttural decibels it uttered.
In any case, between Venus and Shepherd (bless his money-grubbing semi-decent heart), coupled with Fairy assisting in all their operations now, the Proxy duo were already halfway to making back Legendary.
On the other hand, she and her brother essentially had lost a week of sleep combined for their efforts. Working endlessly on back-to-back Proxy commissions, alongside running the Video Store, was even driving Eous to exhaustion. And considering that was just halfway, something told the secret dual-lived young lady that those losses were only just starting to mount.
“Sleeping on the job?” Wise walked back in, having already confirmed her good health enough to leave for the staff room. Filling his hands was one of their many reused cardboard storage boxes.
At the tease, she blew back a raspberry. “Excuse me? Slacking? You’ll find no Store Manager more diligent than I, dear Brother~.”
“Right.” He meaningfully set the box right on the checkout desk. “Which is why the shelves aren’t restocked for tomorrow, as you promised you would while pestering me to get some rest.”
The more rumbustious half of Phaethon constricted into marble. The other merely smirked mercilessly at the utterly bruised ego and gestured once more toward the accursed box.
Belle, young mature lady that she was, would duly deny any accusations of groaning like a scolded child.
<->
Watching his sister finish the closing job was an uneventful affair. Wise only stayed so he could be assured absolutely that it’d be done and ready for the morning customers. With the hits they’ve taken from the last few major commissions, they needed every last Denny they could get. Eous could not just self-repair infinitely the next time they extend deployments from Scott’s Outpost.
…And that he could discreetly bask in entertainment exclusive to siblings? That was just a fun bonus no one needed to know. Belle was particularly cranky in putting back the latest stock of movies. The Co-Manager could already feel his long-drained vitality being restored by decades.
No, that just makes me sound like a bitter old man.
…But it was he who’d done this chore the last five times before, suggested the malice in the young man’s heart. Several of which should have been Belle’s rotation. Turnabout was fair play.
Belle loosed her last whimper as she finally restocked the shelves. Wise could do little but rub the small of his sister’s back while attempting to stave off a snicker.
“Oh yeah,” His co-manager suddenly perked up. “Did you hear anything back from Nicole yet?”
The gray-haired sibling shook his head. “Nothing yet. Though considering their work with prepping the Vision Case, I’m not too surprised we haven’t heard a word.”
Idly, he glanced at the “Staff Only” room, holding, amongst many other incriminating items related to their real livelihood, Belobog’s Prototype Memory Unit. It had been a few weeks since that piece of hardware came into their possession. Secretly removed before Pubsec’s required acquisition of their Intelligence Construction Machines. Along with that familiar thing in the ruins.
The amount of faith Koleda and Grace placed in them, for entrusting what may be a remnant of their late Father, was immeasurable. For both of their sakes, along with the siblings’ own, Wise swore they would decrypt the device one way or another.
“Mhm.” His sister hummed in acknowledgement. “Well, with the Cunning Hares wrapped up in ‘bringing Perlman to justice’, I doubt we’ll get Rain’s whereabouts soon. You think we should look for her ourselves?”
Wise mulled over it.
Worst comes to worst, we can always bite the bullet with Fairy. As much as the Manager-Proxy loathed the likely power surge caused by the brute-force attempt. Sentiment aside, the information inside was likely related to the conspiracy they’d caught the tail of since intercepting that “HIA” strongbox. The sooner they had it, the sooner they’d have a better idea of what Phaethon was opposing. “I’ll have Shepard put out some feelers to expedite the search. Whatever was on this unit may be something Perlman was willing to murder an entire street just to secure.”
“Or whoever’s backing him.”
Wise considered that as well. The former Vision CEO really did not seem bright enough to do this unprompted. Greedy, of course. But not insane enough to risk his entire corporation on just one project. It was far too bold for the coward Wise pegged him as.
But if Perlman wasn’t the culprit, who was? Why go so far? Why now? And what did it all have to do with Heli-
A pounding complaint came from his frontal lobe. It was clear the Manager was running out of midnight oil. His sister wasn’t faring much better, similarly nursing a headache.
“Ughhhhh, so many threads to connect,” Flopping her face back onto the desk. “Why can’t a mysterious conspiracy be simpler in real life!? Why does it have to be so complicated?”
This time he smoothed her back with a far more genuine sympathy. “That’s kinda why they’re called mysterious to begin with, Belle.”
The Co-Manager groaned again into the hard surface. Wise wouldn’t blame her. He’s been having similar thoughts ever since seeing that thing in the monument. Answers sooner rather than later would have been his preference, but it couldn’t be helped.
Only the late-night ambiance bore witness to the Co-Manager’s moment of mundane weakness and her dear brother’s tender care.
…As well as her next words, spoken in a somber, deathly quiet.
“I wish Teacher was here.”
The older brother tensed. All the drowsiness had drained out of him.
“She’d know what to do. What we should do about all…” gesturing at nothing and everything. “…this.”
“Yeah.” Their Teacher’s memory was both fond and bitter. Wise willed his being to focus on the former. On the happier facts about her. Among her many talents, unraveling mysteries had certainly been one of them. Honed to perfection thanks to her own mentor. Something about how it assisted with research and revolution. It made the intellectual Goat Thrien seem like a nutjob at times, but it worked nonetheless. “She’d likely have this solved in a week.”
That got Belle laughing: a series of giggles carried out of the young woman. “Then she’d give it to us for a month-long assignment.”
Now both siblings were coughing up fits of elation. The minute of joy cut through the thin layer of tension in their little store. Levity that reminded them they didn’t need to rush anything. That their lives weren’t all solving the conspiracy onto the next, life goal or not.
“Haaah.” Belle wrangled her amusement together for a moment. A cheeky grin remained. “Or what about the Torchhead Professor?”
The grey-haired manager nearly choked on nothing before recomposition. Thoughtlessly, he looked for witnesses, as if Random Play was any less empty than a moment before. There was no polished classroom. No giggle-fit Serpico slowly dying of oxygen loss, nor gaping Truvia nearly fainting. All while the narrowed gaze of their teacher landed solely in their direction. Stern disapproval with a slight glint of amusement in her eyes as she reprimanded the disrespect. Guess some habits died hard. “…You mean the Founding Profess-“
“Yeah, the Torchhead Teach.”
The enticing allure of a facepalm crawled into the back of Wise’s ligaments. The older brother valiantly struck them down.
“Teacher wouldn’t like you talking about her mentor like that.” He gently reminded. Another knee-jerk response. And an understatement. The following lecture took an hour before Belle finally agreed to keep that nickname to herself. Before she blurted it out in the class not a week later.
“Fine, fine.” His younger sister waved it off as always. “But seriously, he’d be a major hand. Like, he taught everything Teacher knew and was a- … well you know.”
Void Hunter. One of the first. Yeah, “massive help” is an understatement. The man essentially invented modern Hollow Research. Then revolutionized it again barely a year later. He’d likely total the assistance of all their known assets and then some. Solve their issues under a week if he took the reins. But one other thing to note about his character was…
“If he was anything like in Teacher’s stories, you’d know exactly what he’d say to us.”
Wise definitely recalled. The recorded “Wisdom of the Void Hunter” lecture was a fun class memory.
[Any little upstart throwing their weight at my door for my ‘assistance’ should be spending that time figuring the solution out themselves. Science is not advanced through prayer but the stubborn resilience of mortal ingenuity. Now hone yours-]
“Yeah, I know.” A wistful edge came into Belle’s expression. “Help isn’t ever gonna fall into our lap. The only way to get to the bottom of this is through our wits alone.”
Notes of determination formed in her eyes. “Our ‘help’ will reveal itself along the way. I remember. We just have to keep trying.”
“That’s my sister.”
Her determined face immediately deflated at the paperwork for Store expenses still on the desk. Its contents remaining unfiled from her nap. “Still would like the help anyway.”
He ruffled her hair with some minor complaints, the signature shuffling of Eous and the rest coming out from the staff room to see their owners. The former’s self-repair had already finished cycling, and the Bangboos crowded the two former students, 6 and 18 playing with Belle’s resting head.
Seeing their little sibling up and about was reassuring to the gray-haired brother.
Just to check. Wise lifted Eous to eye level, to the Bangboo’s amusement. That nasty gash a lucky Thanatos got on their hull was gone. The Bangboo frame had returned to its original state just before the mission, and from how he was moving, so had the internal components.
“En-nah! En-nah! (Big Brother tickles! Big Brother tickles).” The ever-brave Bangboo wiggled in the momentary weightlessness. Wise was just happy they were still so cheerful after all of this. Having to not worry about losing function too soon may have been part of that, but some of that had to come from his little intelligent core’s heart.
They can’t endlessly patch themselves up after all. But the damage this time was thankfully not critical. The little there wouldn’t even need a manual tune-up. Not for the first time, Wise wondered how their Teacher implemented a self-repair function in their talented little “sibling”—especially one this potent. No matter how many times they went through Eous’s systems themselves, neither he nor Belle or Enzo, on the rare occasion, were able to figure it out.
He remembered one late night, while their Mother Mentor was going through the ninth night of sleepless dedication, whispering “how proud of you they would be” to her personal Bangboo in maintenance. The week after, Belle said she probably stumbled on what was likely prototypes for their implants.
Its likely held in their Logic Core. And neither sibling was brave enough to touch what may be their teacher’s last legacy unless absolutely necessary. We’ll make do with what we have, as we always have.
On extra help, the siblings agreed. Around the store. In their other work. Despite all the success they’ve amassed, Wise knew they’d only scratched the surface. Phaethon needed more. More outlets of information. More tools of operation. More comrades. More landing pads for when the hammer of the truth came around.
Yet despite all those worries, ultimately, they did have much. So many agents and more than a few friends among them. People he and Belle would place their lives into. Trust they had their back in whatever this was. And with any luck, they’d stand beside them if when a certain truth came to light. If the rabbit hole they’d gazed into was any indication, it may come faster than either sibling would ever like.
They weren’t ready, but they’d long made faithful ground. They could take some pride in the progress made. That’d be enough to get through the coming storm.
Still, as Belle said, I wouldn’t mind at all if a Void Hunter was a part of that-
A loud crash echoed from upstairs.
The managers froze, Wise feeling his eyes go wide as they met Belle’s. Idly, he felt their implants activate for the third time that day.
A line of fear went through his sister’s sea-green pupils before it turned to suspicion. Then just as quickly, the fire of determination flooded through her entire being.
Relief came through on his side before vigor granted intention to his limbs. That wasn’t a fallen object. The Legendary Proxies weren’t so revered as to mistake that disruption. With a plethora of infiltration-related commissions under their belt, the sound of muffled bodies was far too familiar.
That was a person. In our home.
Like clockwork, the twins grabbed the nearest item that could be weaponized. A chair wouldn’t be his first choice, but time was of the essence. With a skateboard gripped in his sister’s hands, the two raced upstairs. 6 and Eous followed closely, bearing their own arms, while 18 remained near the work phone, ready to dial their friends and/or Pubsec at worst.
Their trip upstairs was quick, almost deliriously so. In what felt like an instant, they reached the second floor. The source was confirmed: Belle’s room. Closed but occupied. From the shuffling and grunts, there were multiple figures. It could be worse than expected.
No matter…
Belle shared a glance with her sibling, both readying for impact. Wise nodded, took a breath, steadied the chair in his hands…
and in a quick breath, kicked open the door.
“WHO’S THER-“
Wise barely finished before he hit the floor. The black figure came upon him in the blink of an eye. Faster than he’d ever thought something that size could move. What followed was the pain of grounding, his body colliding with the sturdy foundation. Vaguely, he noticed that the chair he grabbed was disarmed in the same motion. It was probably impressive. The great constriction surrounding his frame was quite distracting. The manager struggled in a large mechanical grip, but the large hand nullified his torso’s revolt.
Three other similar thuds struck around him. Eous and 06 were knocked onto their backs, their stubby limbs helpless and “weapons” tossed aside. Both cried out to the new predicament, failing to swiftly right themselves against the intruders.
And then the Proxy’s eyes landed on Belle, stood over by a smaller shadow. Their hand over her mouth, muting the scream she was attempting to vocalize.
His panic tripled. But his resistance meant nothing to his captor’s rigid steel grip.
With little options, the Student of Helios took a look behind the wide offender, to the people still in Belle’s room. Crisis accelerated his thoughts a mile a minute. There were already two. Identify their numbers. 18 is still at the phone. The chair’s still close. Panic won’t save you or your sister. Calm down. Analyze. Comprehend.
Then, counter-
Wise’s panic froze. Outright befuddlement came to accompany the bold-faced incomprehension running his thoughts to a crawl.
Standing in the center of other figures in black was purple flame. It burned ceaselessly yet bound itself to what would be the head of a humanoid figure, dressed in a full black combat suit and cloak. The cape flowed with smaller trails of etheric wisps, as if stolen from a Hollow’s night sky.
A picture-perfect headless wraith fit for the old civilization holiday.
And of a certain professor, legendary figure carved into his memory of better times.
“PROFESSOR ARCHE!?”
The others—a purple-haired woman, a white-haired masked man, and a heterochromic horned lady—reacted as if prompted, turning toward the young man first, silently digesting his words, then toward the apparent ghost of a man absent for a whole era. Even Belle looked up, as well as she could have with the large-eared figure still straddling her.
If that flame composing the “head” could emote, Wise would swear on his Teacher’s name the person radiated the same confusion gazing right back at him.
Then, from the side, standing a pink-haired woman in a similar black coat as the rest, came laughter. Clutching her sides, wings fluttering with each breath, the woman laughed like the sun tripped over itself and somehow stubbed a toe. The angel(?)’s knees buckled at the weight of her own elation, and she slumped to the floor.
The rest of the occupants merely stared, the living flame granting a particularly scathing(?) “glare” at the bird.
Wise turned back to the displaced(?) man. Recomposed(?), the flame-head returned it, two particular sparks gazing like eyes straight into the young man’s soul, as if it knew his every secret.
Then, after finally catching something of note, under the older man's breath(?) he faintly heard:
“Damnable flukes.”
<->
Omake:
“Wisdom of the Void Hunter” (Unedited Cut)
[Any little upstart throwing their weight at my door for my ‘assistance’ should be spending that time figuring the solution out themselves. Science is not advanced through prayer but the stubborn resilience of mortal ingenuity. Now hone yours-
HOSHIMI, FALKENHAYE TINCAN, GET AWAY FROM CENTRIFUGE, IT STILL NEEDS TIME TO- NO NO NO, JOYOUS, THOSE ARE NOT PINACOLATAS, DO. NOT. DRINK. THAT. DAN! YOU DEFINITELY HAVE YOUR WITS ABOUT. STOP KNOCKING OVER MY JOURNALS. THEY ARE COLOR CODED FOR EXPERIMENTAL PANIC AND-
"Professor Arche filed for lab repairs that day. And reiterated that Helios Academy should still be turning away all mentioned Void Hunters listed until New Year’s."]