~7314 words

 

—7 July 2023—

—(4 months before the annual meeting)—

 

Israel. Southern Israel. Typically, the further south you get down in Israel, the less amount of people you encounter, as customarily, the majority of the population lives in the many cities in Central and Northern Israel.

 

But today is a special day.

 

Today marks the beginning of an expansive multi-national scientific archaeological mining expedition into the heart of the Negev Desert. As the convoy of assorted mining and transport vehicles snakes its way through the barren yet breathtaking landscape, a sense of palpable anticipation hangs thick in the air. 

 

Idle chatter and laughter intermingle with the rumble of engines, creating a cacophony of sound against the backdrop of the spacious terrain.

 

As far as the eye can see, undulating dunes rise and fall, their golden hues shimmering in the relentless sun. The contours of the seas of sand are occasionally broken apart by the varying and random rocky hills and the rarer oases of water, that give life and sustenance to the local living fauna and flora, amidst the arid expanse.

 

A lone coyote pauses, its curiosity piqued by the distant rumble of seemingly a thousand engines. With a wary glance, it scampers away, instinctively seeking refuge from the completely alien disturbance.

 

At the forefront of the convoy, a black rugged 4x4 truck, coated in a deep blanket of dust collected by local winds, plows through the soft sand, leaving behind deep tracks in its rear.

 

Following closely behind, a line of vehicles stretches out far into the distance. Other dust-coasted trucks, SUVs, and jeeps fill the majority of the convoy, their frames adorned with spare fuel cans and various equipment, to make both their journey and operation as comfortable as possible.

 

In the centre of the convoy, lies the stomach. Several large semi-trucks carrying long lines of trailers carry the main logistics of the fleet. Filled to the brim with tents, water, food, and comforts. No detail has been overlooked in the preparations for this venture. Those few trucks house enough supplies for a caravan triple its size.

 

At the tail end of the fleet, the heaviest vehicles make their presence known with a deep grumble. Large buses filled with people and vehicles specialising in carrying other smaller vehicles, the sort you’d find in large-scale excavation and mining sites. 

 

“-rew.’ 

 

“-drew.”

 

“Andrew!” An impatient call awakens the glasses-wearing boy, he jolts forward in a cold sweat, and his eyes flutter violently awake as if he just woke from a terrible nightmare. He blinks, disoriented, before glancing over to the seat directly ahead of himself, scowling at the one that woke him from his hibernation.

 

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, sa-”

 

“If you utter one more line from that stupid game, I will delete all your save files,” Andrew warns, cutting her off, his fatigue ever evident in his voice.

 

She gasps in exaggerated shock. “You wouldn’t do that to your favorite sister! Right?”

 

“You’re my only sister. Thus, you’re also my least favorite sister.” he deadpans, his patience wearing thin.

 

“You’re not supposed to say that, you’re supposed to say: ‘I would never do that to my precious Sarah!’” Sarah deepens her voice in an attempt to mimic his voice.

 

“You sound gay, I wanna go back to sleep.” he yawns and stretches, and closes his eyes before slumping back into his seat.

 

“That’s supposed to be you though! So you just called yourself ga-” One of Andrew’s eyes snapped open, shutting her up.

 

An amused giggle escaped from Sarah’s mouth before she leaned her head against the bus’s unstabilized window, letting her head bounce rather violently but rhythmically against the pane, in sync with the bumpy path the vehicle was forced to take.

 

The hum of the engine was soothing, and the random chatter of their colleagues filling the coach’s cabin served as an excellent white noise for one to fall asleep to; she perfectly understood why her brother felt as lethargic as he did, especially with how busy he’d been. Deep within herself, she felt the same sense of drowsiness as him.

 

Seemingly having had enough of the constant minor concussions she was giving herself, her attention came back to her older brother. His long blonde hair, usually tied back, lay messily in front of his face, obscuring any hint of emotions resting on his features.

 

“Do I have something on my face?” he murmured, half asleep already, but just aware enough to notice her stare.

 

“Hair, a lot of it. You need a haircut, you look like a bum.” She comments, sharing her thoughts.

 

Andrew responds with a noncommittal hum, too exhausted to engage in further conversation. Content to bask in the tranquility of the moment.

 

Sarah looks back out the window, in her reflection, her own blonde hair, cut just above her shoulders, greets herself. Her soft red eyes cast a harmonising gradient over the sea of golden sand, her mind drifting with the shifting sands. A ray of sunlight washes over her features, a parallel to the hope that began to settle into her eyes.

 

“Andrew.” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.

 

As if he was never exhausted in the first place, he sits up and leans forward, taking in her side profile as she continues to idly observe the passing by gold.

 

“We’re almost there, we’ve almost found it haven’t we? Just a little bit more and we’ll finally uncover it all, right?” She pivots her head to face him once more, and an expectant look fills her face, demanding an answer.

 

The older brother takes a moment to read his younger sibling’s expression. He already knows that she knows the answer to her own question. Dutifully upholding his role as an older brother, he finally answers.

 

Andrew’s red eyes sharpen. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

—------------------------

 

The entrance of the archaeological site was a fountain of activity. Amidst the flurry of action, the nearly-thousand-strong team all had their respective jobs to do, no matter how small or grand it was, everyone had a sense of purpose.

 

Cargo was swiftly unloaded, temporary structures erected, and the air thrummed with the sound of hammering and construction. It was as if a vast swarm of bees had descended upon the site, each member diligently working to build a gargantuan monumental hive of productivity.

 

Through the organized chaos, in the center of it all, a circle of individuals clad in high-visibility clothing and hats of assorted colors stood in solemn assembly. These were the leaders, the overseers of their respective domains–construction, excavation, archaeology, science, security, resources, and lastly logistics.

 

Though they had only just arrived at their destination, after many hours out in the sand, they wasted no time in convening, gathering to discuss the tasks that lay ahead. After the initial orders that they delegated to their teams, they all joined together, ready to consult the next steps.

 

Among them stood a young figure who stood apart from the rest, his long blonde hair tied back in a loose knot, his crimson eyes alight with intent and resolve. His confident smile strengthened the charismatic aura the man radiated.

 

As the discussions unfolded, all eyes turned to him, recognizing his unique position within the hierarchy. Despite his unconventional role and appearance, there was no doubt that he held a crucial place in the success of the expedition.

 

“So, Mister Ashford, what’s the plan from here?” The man in bright blue, the scientist asked first, curious about their next main course of action.

 

Andrew Ashford, the focal point of attention, took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. “Please, call me Andrew instead. Firstly…” Andrew picked up a small device seated on the table just beside him before presenting it to the group. “Does anyone recognize this type of gadget?”

 

A brief silence fell over the assembly as everyone examined the device. Finally, the blue clad scientist spoke up. “That looks like a type of electromagnetic force detector, an EMF device.”

 

“Partially correct, you’re completely right in the fact that this was an EMF device, but it’s been specifically modified and fine tuned to solely detect one particular frequency that the majority of conventional tech could not pick up.” the young man answered with a smile.

 

The woman wrapped in neon yellow, the construction manager, posed her question, her curiosity evident in her tone. “A particular frequency? What’s that boss?”

 

Andrew’s smile widened, a flicker of excitement dancing in his eyes as he responded. “We don’t know! Which is the precise reason why we’re here. This mysterious frequency was only detected several months ago. The reason that it was just detected now is the real discrepancy, the true anomaly.”

 

Taking a moment to wet his parched throat with a sip of water, Andrew continued. “The cause for it to be such an anomaly is simply since this “frequency” if we can even call it that, has been present in our world this entire time. The reason why our equipment failed to pick it up until recently? It simply lacked the ‘density’ to register. One moment it’s invisible, the next…voila! Like magic!”

 

Swiveling his chair around to straddle it backward, Andrew rested his forearms on the backrest, his expression becoming more serious. “Whatever this thing is, it’s growing. That’s why we can discern it now. This brings us back to these handy new thingamabobs that come into play.” He slides the tool to the middle of the table.

 

“Since we’re capable of feeling this phenomenon, I told the boys back home to figure out how to pinpoint its source. Hence, the birth of these beauties–‘FLDs.’ or ‘Foreign Locator Devices.’ Best part? They’re cost-effective! Just be careful not to break ‘em; we’ve got a limited supply.” He cautioned.

 

A contemplative silence hung in the air, each person digesting Andrew’s words before the security director, dressed in black and white, broke the stillness. “So, Andrew, you’re suggesting that these ‘FLDs’ led us here and that this ‘frequency’ originates here?”

 

Andrew stroked his chin thoughtfully, picking his next words with care. “Yes and no. This ‘frequency’ permeates everything–air, ground, water, even me and you, it’s everywhere! It confused me and the boys back home a lot! But here’s the kicker!

 

Andrew slams his hand down on the center of the table, his tone brimming with intensity. “Excuse my crude language, but right here? There’s an absolute fucking shit tonne. Here, compared to anywhere else in the world is like comparing a single raindrop, to the entire goddamn Pacific Ocean! It’s as if it’s saying ‘Come here! Come here!’ So we fucking did!”

 

The tent buzzed with a mix of astonishment and intrigue, but Andrew pressed on, undeterred. “Our mission, plain and simple, is to uncover the truth behind this enigma. Once we unravel that, we can chart our next steps. Any questions thus far?” He inquired, scanning the faces around the table.

 

With no objections or further queries, Andrew cleared his throat, commanding attention. “Let’s focus on getting operations up and running. Once we’re set, we can delve into the mystery at hand. Agreed?”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

“You got it, boss.”

 

“Aye.”

 

With a nod of satisfaction, Andrew dismissed the group, each member dispersing from the tent, to attend to their respective duties. As they left, a taste of unity lingered, their collaboration a testament to their symbiotic relationship, bound by their joint cooperation.

 

Now, by his lonesome, Andrew decided that the next best thing for him was to tackle all that recent paperwork he’s been avoiding. With a resigned sigh, he reached out to lift the several mountainous stacks of texts out from the nearby drawer, he looked upon this endeavor with a strained smile. God forbid, he wishes he could just lay down and take a nap, but duty calls! Or so he told himself.

 

Skimming through the first few pages, Andrew's initial impressions were unremarkable. The pages were filled with lengthy requests for his signature and approval, All ostensibly for the betterment of his family and conglomerate. Of course, Andrew knew better than to blindly sign away his authority. He skimmed the opening lines of each document, a practiced eye discerning whether they aligned with his objectives or posed potential risks. It was a tedious process, but one that he approached with the rehearsed diligence of a seasoned leader.

 

With each passing document, Andrew’s hidden weariness grew, but he remained steadfast in his scrutiny. Occasionally, he would come across a clause that raised an eyebrow–a subtle alteration in wording, a hidden implication–but nothing that couldn’t be addressed with either a quick annotation or a decisive crumple, he addressed any discrepancies, forging ahead with machine-like proficiency. Despite the monotony of the task, Andrew found a sense of familiarity through it all. A feeling that he longed for.

 

Amidst the sea of forms, a particular phrase caught Andrew’s eye as he skimmed through the near hundredth document: ‘Dear Logan Ashford, I hope this message finds you well. I am reaching out to kindly…’ Simultaneously, Andrew felt something slip from his grasp–a trail of blood, evidence of the unnoticed strain in his grip. With a detached indifference, he observed his self-inflicted injury, the pain registering only as a distant sensation. A stark reminder of the burden he placed on himself.

 

With a resigned exhale Andrew rose from his seat, pushing his chair back in place with a weary hand. He made his way to the first aid box affixed to the wall, his steps heavy with fatigue. There, he tended to his wound, a small but tangible reminder of who he truly was.

 

As he attended to his injury, the entrance to the tent swung open, but Andrew, initially ready to resume his facade as the energetic leader, chose not to. He recognized the soft steps approaching him, a familiar presence he didn't need to turn around to identify. Petite arms wrapped gently around his back, allowing him to relax, allowing him to be himself again.

 

“Sarah…” He murmured quietly, his voice deep and resonant, yet tinged with sincerity.  The arms wrapped around his waist only squeezed tighter, offering comfort in their embrace. His head hung low, resigned.

 

“Idiot.” her voice whispered softly, yet with a power that belied her small frame. Sarah had entered the tent intending to playfully mess around and tease her older brother, but the unmistakable scent of blood caught her attention. A quick glance at his desk revealed all she had to know.

 

She pressed her face into his back, seeking solace in his presence. “You’re not alone here. Don’t forget that I’m here. Please don’t forget that.” she pleaded, her voice momentarily cracking with distress.

 

His bandaged hand snaked his way up to his waist, grasping her hand with his own. Despite the stinging pain from his hand, he didn’t care. She was here now, and that was more important to him, more than anything else in the world. He thought to himself, accepting that delusion.

 

“I’m sorry.” he replied. His grasp on her became more worn by the second, her hand becoming slightly moist from the blood seeping through his bandage.

 

“I know you miss him, feel guilty about him, feel as if you need to do something about him. I do as well, but…” you don’t have to become him. That is what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to say that to him. This was his revenge after all. His self-imposed quest, A pilgrimage he concluded that he had to do.

 

The Ashford family had once been larger. After all, there was another brother, the eldest. A terrible victim of a disaster. 

 

Logan Ashford. 

 

The head of the Ashford family and conglomerate died in a horrific fire accident. He perished in the violent torrent of flames that had imprisoned him. 

 

That’s what the public and media had been told. But for Andrew, it was entirely different, after all, he was there. 

 

He saw what happened. He knew what happened. Logan Ashford’s death wasn’t an accident. 

 

The truth was far darker. Andrew Ashford had to witness Logan Ashford’s murder twelve years ago.

 

It was a moonlit night when the unthinkable occurred. 

 

Logan, Andrew’s elder brother, had been engrossed in the same paperwork that Andrew now faced, diligently working through the unfathomable piles at a pace that bordered on the supernatural. His long blonde hair was tied back in a loose knot, and his red crimson eyes behind a pair of round spectacles scanned the papers with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality.

 

Andrew paid little attention to his brother’s focused demeanor, the seven-year-old boy was content to simply bask in his presence. He whiled away the time playing on a portable game console, likely borrowed (or ‘borrowed’) from his younger sister’s belongings earlier that day. 

 

It was a little odd however, Andrew noticed that his game would shut off randomly, then turn back on a moment later, like an unknown force was tampering with his electronic. Regardless, it frustrated the young child.

 

In a sudden shift, Andrew noticed the usual lighthearted smile on Logan’s face fade, replaced by a grave seriousness that sent a chill down his spine. It was as if a switch had been flipped within his brother, triggering an innate transformation. 

 

“Andrew. Hide in the closet.” Logan ordered, his voice flat and devoid of its usual warmth.

 

Confusion gripped Andrew as he hesitated, his typically quiet demeanor shattered by the abrupt change in his brother’s tone. “Logan? What’s going on?”

 

“Move! Now!” Logan urged, cutting off his younger sibling, his tone leaving no room for argument. Startled by the forcefulness of his brother’s words, Andrew obeyed, retreating to the safety of the closet and burying himself amidst the clothes within.

 

An uncomfortable tense silence enveloped the room, which was momentarily broken apart by a pair of loud ominous footsteps that echoed throughout the halls from outside of Logan’s office. The disturbance halted right outside of the double doors before.

 

BOOOOOOOM

 

The two doors fly off their hinges as if they were propelled by an unseen force, revealing two individuals completely cloaked in black, one tall, one short. 

 

The only part of them visible was their eyes, eyes that were gleaming with a predatory intensity, radiating a palpable aura of bloodlust that sent shivers down the youngest one’s spine. It took all of Andrew’s willpower to not make a squeak, their entrance had completely startled him, like a rabbit becoming aware of an eagle that is about to swoop down on it.

 

Frozen with fear, Andrew watched in terror as the confrontation unfolded before him. Logan remained seated at his desk, an island of calm amidst the storm, his chin resting on his clasped hands, gazing unwaveringly as he faced his uninvited guests.

 

“Hello, old friend. I’m sure you know why we’re here.” The smaller of the two wearing black spoke, her voice laced with an unsettling mix of affection and menace.

 

“Today’s the day, huh? Well, no matter. Do whatever you need to do.” with a sigh, Logan appeared to submit to this fate of his. 

 

Andrew struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation, his mind racing as he grappled with the realization that his brother was in mortal danger. He wanted to intervene, to scream out in protest, but fear held him captive, rendering him powerless to act.

 

“You don’t wish to fight back? You’re strong, quite scarily so.” The woman in black curiously asked, her head tilting while folding her arms.

 

Logan’s smile was tinged with sadness as he replied. “How could I fight the one that I love? Even then, it’s a futile effort, you’d kick my ass back then, and still would today,” he replies as a matter of factly.

 

Loves? Andrew thought, confusion further taking a deeper hold of his mind.

 

The women’s eyes soften. “Logan… please. You can come back, we don’t have to do this.” the woman implored, her voice betraying a hint of desperation.

 

“You know I can’t Freya. I have them now. I love them.” he responded softly, a bittersweet smile creasing his face.

 

There was a moment of tense silence before Freya drew her holstered pistol and aimed at Logan. His expression remained serene, even as the tear that glistened in Freya’s eye contradicted her calm facade.

 

“I lov-”

 

BANG

 

The gunshot reverberated through the room, cutting off Logan’s words as the bullet found its way to his heart. Extinguishing his life in an instant.

 

Andrew couldn’t stifle a gasp as he recoiled, his head connecting with the closet door with a loud thud. The taller figure in black, alerted by the noise, flung the closet door open, his own sidearm trained on the small figure that tumbled out before him.

 

“Cease!” Freya commanded her subordinate who froze momentarily.

 

The three stood in limbo for a moment, before the intruder in black broke the quiet.

 

“My lady… our orders were to kill the deserter and any other witnesses.”

 

“We will. But it’ll be an accident. Use your 「Arcanum」, burn the building, burn it all.”  she instructed.

 

“As you command.” the other intruder adhered. Turning around to the other side of the room, he began to unintelligibly chant to himself, before a large white flame spewed out all over the side of the office, quickly spreading to other parts of the whole complex. 

 

With the subordinates back turned, Andrew watches as Freya silently approaches her accomplice, Andrew blinks for barely a second, and what meets his sight nearly causes him to pass out from shock and disgust: He sees the man wrung out like a towel, blood seeping out of his eyes, before suddenly…

 

POP 

 

The man wearing black, who regarded Freya as his master, had his eyes shoot out from its sockets like a cork in a champagne bottle, splattering against the wall, before sliding down it, in a goopy bloody white mess. 

 

Andrew, who already has fallen under a half-unconscious state, barely registers the fact that his brother’s killer had just also murdered her colleague in an extensively brutal matter. One thought, one word, continued to echo in the boy’s mind, however: 「Arcanum」In a sense of sudden sobriety, he knew THAT was the reason for these supernatural happenings.

 

The supernatural woman’s figure turns around to face the young boy, before walking towards him and crouching in front of the new head of the Ashford.

 

“Why…?” Andrew could barely choke out, his visage too busy stifling with fear and tears.

 

Her light, extremely pale grey eyes had remained dull, completely void of any human life, She couldn't meet the boy’s eyes with her own.

 

“Figure it out.” These were the last three ambiguous words that Andrew comprehended before everything around him faded to black. When his eyes opened again, he found himself on a hill overlooking the burning of their family estate to cinders. His five-year-old sister, Sarah lay to his right, asleep, completely unharmed, something he is entirely thankful for. 

 

Clasped in his left hand, was something familiar, very familiar.

 

A pair of round glasses.

 

—------------------------

 

Andrew Ashford POV

 

Ugh… my head. It’s throbbing.

 

I keep consistently having that same nightmare over and over again, a relentless loop of the same tormenting visions.

 

Soft…

 

My head is lying on something soft. I thought we wouldn’t be getting any beds anytime soon.

 

My eyes slowly flutter open, discerning my surroundings, I meet a pair of bright red eyes that mirror my own, staring down at me.

 

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake. Yo-”

 

I react instinctively, pivoting my head, and sinking my teeth into her thigh with a viscous chomp.

 

“OWOWOWOWOWOWOW! Okay! Okay!” Sarah cries out in pain, tapping out, slapping her hand repeatedly against the floor.

 

Sitting up, I scootch across the floor, closer to her, our shoulders touching as we sit side by side.

 

In the corner of my eye, I can see her turn her head to face me.

 

For a moment she just watches me.

 

…

 

…

 

“What do you want?” I ask, already sensing her mischievous intentions.

 

“Can I?”

 

“Can you what?”

 

“Can I?”

 

“You gonna tell me?”

 

She puts her finger to her chin, pondering the question.

 

“Nope! Teehee✩!”  Sarah’s mischievous grin widens as she clasps her hands together in a mock prayer, tilting her head to one side “So, can I?”

 

A sigh escapes my lips. I relent. “You can.”

 

An evil grin appears on her face, as she winds up her ultimate move, her planet-crushing, universe-slamming blow. After swinging her fist around in the air like a windmill for long enough, she lands her punch against my arm, delivering devastating results to my entire being. So she probably imagined.

 

“Ow.”

 

She sports a heavy frown, her eyes squinting at me, as she scrutinizes my reaction. “Did it actually hurt?”

 

“...Yes.”

 

She punches me in the arm again. A lot harder. This time, it’d actually hurt.

 

“...Ow.”

 

A proud smile appears on her face. “Now it did, excellent.” She quips, her tone laced with arrogance. 

 

Sarah plopped her head against my shoulder but struggled to get comfortable with how messy my hair was. “Drew… your hair.”

 

I should take her advice.

 

“Sarah… still got that pocket knife on you?” I ask, knowing that she has it on her.

 

“Yeppers. Want it?” she replied.

 

With a nod, I accept the knife and proceed to shape my hair into a ponytail. Using the blade, I silently slice through the base of the ponytail, effectively cutting the majority of my hair short.

 

“So…? What do you want it for? Woah, WOAH! Andrew! The fuck?!” initially curious about my actions, she yells at me for what I just did.

 

“What? You’ve been complaining about it this past week.” I say, feigning innocence to her annoyance.

 

“Well yeah! But now it’s gonna look like shit! You are going to come with me and we’re gonna get you a proper haircut! I made sure to bring along a hairdresser. I am NOT taking no for an answer!” Sarah commands, pulling me to my feet.

 

“Okay. You brought a hairdresser along here?” I agree, amused by her enthusiasm.

 

“Yes, bitch! I gotta make sure to look fabulous whenever!” She turns to me shocked, her mouth agape, processing my unusual compliance. “Wait! You’re allowing me to do this to you?! You’d usually say no, then just scowl before you fall asleep!”

 

“I feel like it’s long overdue that I clean myself up.” I admit.

 

“Can I dress you up as well? Please tell me I can dress you as well.” she eagerly asks me, her eyes wide with anticipation.

 

“One thing at a time, sis.” I answer.

 

She gasps with excitement before bouncing on the spot like a puppy about to go for a walk. “That wasn’t a nooooooooooo~!” 

 

“I want that haircut. You coming?” I ask, already heading outside.

 

“Mhm! Yep~! You gonna bring your glasses?” She inquires, half expecting me to change my mind.

 

“Nah, I don’t feel like them right now.” I reply, stepping out into the fresh air.

 

“Ah! Okay! Dreeeeeeeeeeeeew~! Wait up!” Sarah calls out, running after me.

 

It’s not like I ever needed them in the first place.

 

—------------------------

—14 July 2023—

 

The sun beat down mercilessly on the excavation site, its scorching rays reflected off the sand, creating a shimmering haze that enveloped the workers toiling under the Ashfield family’s employ. For a week straight, they had been tirelessly digging in search of something seemingly entirely elusive, following the directives of the FLDs that pointed them to potential areas of interest. Yet, each dig yielded nothing but more sand and the occasional interesting rock.

 

But on one, very hot fateful afternoon…

 

“Uhhhhhhhhhhh, hey! Hugo! Come check this out!” The gruff voice called out to his coworker a few dozen meters away.

 

Hugo was known for his imposing physique and dedication to physical fitness, he was the ‘big’ guy on the team. Hugo, accustomed to spending his downtime in the gym perfecting his muscles, and his bodybuilding poses, just barely squeezed into the tight cockpit of the excavator to investigate his colleague’s call.

 

“Yeah? What’s up?” His voice, unusually soft for his size, spoke.

 

“Um, well. My machine just stopped working.” the operator confessed, his confusion evident as he gestured to his malfunctioning equipment. “Even the radio’s dead.”

 

Hugo checked his own radio, confirming the outage, before stepping out of the excavator and away from it to assess the situation. As he did, a strange realization dawned upon him–the radio crackled back to life the moment he left the immediate vicinity of that excavation site.

 

‘Really odd’, he thought. I should probably tell the boss.

 

Hugo wasted no time in reaching out to Andrew, his fingers dialing the private channel reserved for top management, a privilege granted to him as the Excavation Chief.

 

“Hey, Andrew. Uhhhh, we got a weird thing going on here. Something’s messing with our electronics at a specific spot, turning it off. Once you leave the area, everything works, however.” Hugo reported, his voice tinged with the same confusion as the operator before him.

 

Silence greeted him from the other end of the line before Andrew’s voice burst through the static, infused with exuberant resonance. “Hugo you absolute HUNK!”

 

Caught off guard by Andrew’s enthusiastic response, Hugo couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. “Uuuuh? Thanks? What shou-?”

 

“HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGO!” Andrew’s voice, no longer confined to the radio, bombed from Hugo’s left, causing him to jump. He cast his mind back to where he last saw Andrew–across the vast expanse of the excavation site, engaged in menial administrative tasks. Yet, here he was, seemingly materializing out of thin air beside him.

 

Andrew, now standing before Hugo, his breath labored from the unexpected sprint, leaned on his knees, a wide grin spreading across his face. “So, my best friend. Where’s my little EMP field?” Andrew’s inquiry dripped with anticipation, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of being one step closer to unraveling the mystery.

 

Hugo, still trying to wrap his head around Andrew’s sudden appearance, struggled to find words. “I…I don’t know, Andrew. It’s just…. It’s just over there.” He gestured towards the area where the electronic malfunctions occurred, a perplexed expression etched on his face.

 

Andrew’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with determination. “Well, let’s go take a look, shall we? Adventure awaits!” With that, he straightened up, marching forward with a spring in his step. “Ah, also bring some of the boys and some shovels and such.” Andrew turned his head to his new favorite employee. “Let’s get digging!”

 

—------------------------

 

After hours of relentless digging, with the sun having surrendered to the moon’s gentle embrace, Andrew found himself unknowingly scooping out the last remnants of sand before the ground beneath them gave way. The sudden collapse dragged Andrew, his sister Sarah–who had coincidentally joined him at the most inconvenient moment–and Andrew’s self-proclaimed best friend: Hugo, who had been engaged in a friendly ‘Who Can Dig More Sand’ competition with Andrew.

 

“Hey! You guys okay down there?!” One of the workers, still on the surface yelled out in concern.

 

Andrew, the first to recover from the collapse that had enveloped them, shook grains from every crevice of his clothing and yelled back. “Yeah, yeah! We’re good! Get some ladders and ropes! We’ll be fine!”

 

“Alright! Stay safe!” The voice faded, as the worker hurried off to fetch assistance.

 

Andrew glanced at his two companions. “You guys good?”

 

“Yep-cough-pers!” Sarah spoke out in between coughs, her voice muffled by the sand.

 

Hugo, still prone on the floor, flashed a thumbs up. “Just fat and lazy boss, I’m good.”

 

Andrew extended a hand to help Hugo up, exerting considerable effort. “Jesus, you’re right.” he muttered under his breath

 

“What’s that boss?” Hugo inquired.

 

“I need you to drop that diet and workout regime of yours because JE-SUS!” Andrew exclaimed.

 

“Ehehe… say boss… you get a haircut?” Hugo asked, he said while patting his own bald head, his gesture drawing a smile from Andrew.

 

As Hugo’s attempt to change the subject hung in the air, Andrew couldn’t help but crack a wry smile. “Yeah, I did. Sarah insisted.” he replied, running a hand through his newly trimmed locks.

 

Indeed, Andrew’s hair looked noticeably tidier compared to its previous long unkempt state. Thanks to Sarah’s persistence, he had undergone a transformation at the hands of a skilled hairdresser. His sides were now neatly cropped, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline, while his bangs grazed just above his eyebrows styled with a hint of texturing for added flair. At the back, his hair was expertly tapered, ending in a clean line just above the nape of his neck.

 

In essence, Andrew sported a sleek and modern hairstyle–a simple yet stylish two-block with a textured fringe. 

 

“I’d ask about yours… since it had been a drastic change since I last saw you. Shaved bald? Head’s almost shiny, what’d make you do that?” Andrew asked Hugo in return.

 

Hugo shrugged nonchalantly in response. “The ‘roids.” he explained simply. “It sorta just started falling off, so I thought I’d help it out and get rid of it all.”

 

Andrew had a stupefied expression on his face, before following quickly with a chuckle. “Ah… I see. Well, it suits you, my friend, you look like The Rock!”

 

With their lighthearted exchange concluded, the two men dust themselves off, soon joined by Sarah.

 

“So, Drew. What’s the plan?” Sarah, flanking Andrew’s left shoulder, asked curiously.

 

“The plan? Well… I’m gonna go deeper.” Andrew replied, glancing from one companion to the other. “You guys coming?”

 

“Uuuh…”

 

“Well… I’m not going in alone, see?” Andrew produced a sleek pistol from a hidden holster in his jacket, expertly racking the slide with machined efficiency. His companions regarded him with raised eyebrows. “What? I’m an American.”

 

With casual steps, Andrew proceeded forward, unfazed by potential dangers. After all, his brand new Glock 29 Gen 5 chambered in 10MM allured the greatest amount of security a man could ask for.

 

It didn’t take long for two pairs of footsteps to echo behind Andrew, Sarah and Hugo falling into a step behind, drawn by the allure of adventure and perhaps a touch of concern for their impulsive armed friend.

 

…

 

As the three ventured deeper into the tomb, they were enveloped by a sense of awe and wonder at the grandeur of their surroundings. The air was heavy with the scent of ancient history, a blend of musty earth and the faint aroma of incense that had lingered for centuries. 

 

The walls of the tomb rose high above them, adorned with intricate and indistinguishable writing and elaborate diagrams. Languages from a bygone era? Andrew thought, studying the runes.

 

Despite its age being potentially several millennia, the structure stood remarkably intact, a testament to the craftsmanship of its builders and the mysterious forces that had protected it from decay. The stone walls gleamed faintly in the dim moonlight, polished by centuries of wind and sand, their surfaces adorned with unfamiliar ornaments that sparkled like stars in the darkness, despite their dull appearances.

 

“Hey Hugo, got your FLD on you?” Andrew asked his employee.

 

Shuffling in his overall’s front pocket, he pulls it out, handing it over to Andrew. “Here you are boss, would it still work? With that EMP thing and whatnot?” Hugo complied, then queried.

 

“Well… the eggheads back home figured that within the line of work that the FLDs will go through, they might encounter a situation like this. So, they encased every single crevice, hole, gap, you name it, with some type of metal. Or something, shit I dunno. I’m just a rich guy.” Andrew stated haphazardly with a scoff.

 

With practiced ease, Andrew manipulated the buttons on the gadget, activating its functions with precision. The screen flickered to life, displaying a flurry of readings and data points that danced across its surface. As he adjusted the settings, filtering out extraneous signals and interference, a single blip remained on the screen, pulsing like a beacon in the darkness.

 

“Arcanum…” Andrew murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible above the soft hum of the device.

 

Hugo, observing Andrew’s focused demeanor, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of curiosity. “Boss? You good?” he inquired, his brow furrowing with concern.

 

Andrew’s response was swift, his usual enthusiasm returning in full force. “Peachy! Right, now according to this device. It’s past this wall, to the right. Ready to make history fellas?” he declared, his voice brimming with excitement.

 

“Let’s do this boss!”

“We’re right with you Drew~!”

“Excellent! Now, as a precaution. Hugh, take this back.” Andrew states, flipping him back the FLD. “Right, stick a little bit behind me.” Andrew commanded, his voice growing serious as he gripped his firearm tightly. Andrew led the way, his movements deliberate and measured as he approached the corner of the wall.

 

Briefly putting his back against the wall, Andrew noted that just around the corner should be whatever his FLD detected. With a final thought to his dear brother, he rapidly turns the corner!

…

…

…

…

“Andrew?” Sarah’s voice worriedly calls for him, from the safety of cover.

…

“Andrew?!” Sarah called again, panic settling in her voice.

…

…

Not caring about her safety anymore, Sarah whipped herself around the corner, tears settling in the base of her eyes.

 

“ANDREW?!”

 

There, several dozen steps ahead, stood Andrew, his hand resting on a suit of plate armor that seemed to have materialized from the pages of a fantasy novel. The armor exuded an otherworldly aura, an unfamiliar energy that seemed to dimly glow the armor, almost as if it was calling her. Beckoning her over.

 

But it scared her, that’s putting it lightly. It terrified her. 

 

It wasn’t the armor.

 

Not even the supernatural energy that it was pulsating. 

 

But, him. 

 

That expression.

 

It wasn’t something that belonged to her brother.

 

It wasn’t something that belonged to Andrew Ashford, it didn’t even belong to Logan Ashford, the face her beloved brother had tried so hard to mimic.

 

No, it was something so much more…

 

…pure.

 

She felt a memory, from deep within her consciousness, be pulled to her forefront. She’d seen this once, and only once.

 

This was the same expression that Andrew wore twelve years ago.

 

The day after her oldest brother died.

 

The day that Andrew comprehended the supernatural element that is Arcanum.

 

It was…

 

Pure hate.

 

—------------------------

*** Fjellborg Castle ***
—15 November 2023—

—Present Day—

 

“Outrageous!”

 

The sound of hands slamming like descending clubs on the wooden table echoed like the sound of a thrumming drum in a canyon. 

 

The echoing sound vacuumed everything, filling the 「Hollow Sanctum」with an eerie stillness. 

 

The sound of a huge wave crashing against the cliff that faced the North Sea drowned out the silence as the man slipped back into his seat, his face bright red. The man in question was Lawrence White, the current head of the “Whites.” 

 

Possessing a pot belly that stripped the image of someone touted as one of the strongest humans on earth, Lawrence was a middle-aged man, bearing a striking resemblance to his son—Michael White. However, his white hair was trimmed considerably shorter, styled into a side sweep with an excess of gel, making it look more like that of a porcupine's quills than human hair. His eyes were round and huge, almost as if they were ready to pop out any second. 

 

His rather fat arm hammered down on the table viciously, making the wine inside the glasses in front of the adults ripple and violently judder to the sides. The redness on his face was still there, however, he took in a deep breath before settling back down, holding himself from stripping the whole place down. 

 

Though his emotions appeared genuine at a cursory glance, beneath the surface laid nothing but a rotting greed festering Lawrence's psyche. 

 

Despite his fat appearance, Lawrence was a huge man, currently second tallest amongst the adults as he stood at around 193 cm. 

 

“Such an occurrence could have been averted had proper attention been paid in advance and appropriate measures been put in place. A stationed presence would have undoubtedly mitigated such a situation.” 

 

The one talking this time was a short man. He was around 162 cm. His black hair was usually kept short on the sides and back, while the top was slightly longer and styled by neatly brushing it back. He had a sly, businessman-like smile on his face, his words measured, yet full of scorn as he pushed the blame onto Lawrence. 

 

"Don't you dare pin those accusations on me, Hiroshi!" Lawrence's voice boomed, causing Michael's gaze to snap towards him. He scrunched his nose in frustration, turning away from his father with a low grumble. "You know damn well that's a load of crap."

 

“Israel, though situated geographically in the Middle East, maintains a subsidiary membership within the European Union.” Another man interjected, his shoulder-length blonde hair contrasting sharply with his tanned complexion as he entered the conversation. Maria subtly adjusted her position, moving closer to Yuki.

 

“However, it's evident that Israel's interests lie predominantly with the United States,” he continued, his tone measured and diplomatic. “In this regard, the lion's share of accountability inevitably rests upon your shoulders, Lawrence. After all, they are intricately entwined with your nation's interests.” His words were delivered with calculated precision, reinforcing Hiroshi's statement with a subtle yet decisive force.

 

As Arthur had guessed, they had already formed alliances. The scale of everything to come in the near future was quite big, after all. 

 

The one who talked was Rafael Miranda. Father to Maria Miranda and the representative from South America.

 

“I’d reckon now isn't the opportune moment for assigning blame. What's paramount is the fact that we've allowed something profoundly precious to fall into the hands of those..." The man's words halted momentarily, his expression contorting with visible disgust. "...foulborns. Our sole focus must be on reclaiming what rightfully belongs to us, fair dinkum.” 

 

Blake Anderson interjected, his short luscious locks falling over his face roughly. 

 

Every head turned in Blake’s direction as he nodded his head with a big grin. “That’s right. That foulborn—Andrew Ashford—might have found our Godfather—Adam’s Battle Armour—however, we will take it back.” He spoke as a sinister chill ran across the room. 

 

“The long winter is coming.” He spoke as a chill ran down everyone’s spine. 

 

“Eden… is coming.” 

 

“We are going to be one again. We have held this monopolised Arcanum knowledge to us due to its low ambient amount, but soon enough every foulborn would be able to use it.” As he talked, he stood up, slamming his hands softly on to the table. 

 

“However, we—Adam’s chosen, we will retrieve his last gift for us. We will stand at the top in the end!”

 

A synchronised hum rumbled in everyone’s throat, agreeing with him. 

 

“In the Bleak Midwinter…” He paused, letting his words sink in. “...we will prevail.”

 

As everyone’s voice melded in with the synchronised cheer, Arthur’s hollow orbs met Akesel’s. Squinting his eyes, Aksel bobbed his head, as if asking him what was wrong. Staring deep into his father’s olive eyes, Arthur shook his head. 

 

‘Adam’s battle armour… I do not have any knowledge about it.’ As he looked around, he found the other heirs equally confused, however, with their glasses filled with juice raised up regardless. ‘...hmm.’

 

A sigh escaped his lips as a decision formed in his mind.

A/n

I would be thankful if you read on RoyalRoad. Chapter 2 - Fjellborg Castle (II) - Bleak MidWinter. | Royal Road