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“Hey Pell,” Hinge called out to the man sitting at the security station. “I thought Muin was supposed to be on tonight’s shift with me.”

“She asked me to cover for her,” Pell answered, not moving his eyes away from the monitor. “Her kid got sick, so she wanted to stay home.”

They were security guards at the Central Mint, the CP owned and operated currency printing facility for all countries in their organization. CP member nations were still allowed to print their own money, but all of them eventually switched to the Central Mint when they saw how efficiently it was run. Due to the high volume of money being printed, high security was a necessity.

It was likely the second most well guarded facility in the world, after the CP Headquarters. There were 16 different security walls, each comprised of unique materials to get through, facial recognition and gait detection sensors, various different security locks from retinal scanners to passcodes that changed daily, and over a hundred turrets that all fired different ammunition depending on how far an intruder had made it into the base, becoming more deadly the further they infiltrated.

To this day, there had been 1,631 robbery attempts, and 1,631 failures. The best infiltration attempt only made it to the fourth security wall. Each one had been stopped by the automated system as well, with no need for humans to get involved. This made the job of the night-shift security officers a very easy one. They just had to observe the monitors for anything out of the ordinary, and if a break-in attempt did occur, all they had to do was escort the unconscious perpetrator off of the premises where the police would handle the rest.

There were two other shifts: the morning shift that was comprised of logistics and shipping, and the afternoon shift that was comprised of maintenance and janitorial work. There was security for all three shifts, but they were the only department on the night shift. So for the entirety of their work hours, Pell and Hinge would be the only ones in the massive facility.

“You sure are staring at that monitor rather unblinkingly, Pell,” Hinge commented as he sat down in his chair. “Seriously, when are you going to learn to take it easy? Looking at those monitors has never achieved anything. The system always catches them before we do.”

“Well, right now it’s the only thing keeping me awake,” Pell declared. “I wasn’t expecting to be working tonight, so I went out today with my friends. I’m exhausted, and if I don’t focus on something, the sound of those machines will put me to sleep.” The printing presses ran through all hours of the night, and their continuous hum could certainly lull someone to sleep.

“It’s not like we can look at our phones or even read a book,” Pell continued. “If the boss-lady finds out we’re slacking, she’ll fly down here to reprimand us personally.”

Hinge shuddered at the thought. “Yes, that would be truly awful. I once overheard a scolding for someone in logistics at the start of one of our shifts. That means they were being scolded for almost an entire day. Well, anyways, here, this should help keep you awake. Get some sugar in your system.” Hinge handed one of the two cupcakes he’d brought with him over to Pell. Frankly, Hinge didn’t want to give one up, but he decided to be nice. They looked scrumptiously delicious and were huge to boot.

“Uhh, no thanks,” Pell rejected the offer. “You know I don’t like sweets. Why would you get me one?”

“Well, it was meant for Muin, not you. Jeesh, you ungrateful prick,” Hinge grumbled.

“I see, trying to get in good with Muin then?” Pell pried. “I get the appeal, she’s still got a nice figure for her age, and she’s an available single mom, but I don’t know man. Not sure I could date someone with a kid.”

“Oh come on, you know it’s not like that,” Hinge protested. “I told you before, I've got a girlfriend.”

“I just always assumed you were lying,” Pell teased him.

“Cosmos, you’re annoying,” Hinge complained. “If I knew Muin was gonna call out I would have said my kid was sick too.”

“But you don’t have a kid…” Pell noted.

“Exactly,” Hinge grinned. “I see you’re starting to catch on.”

“Those cupcakes look homemade, didn’t take you for a baker,” Pell deflected

“Nah man, I’m awful at cooking,” Hinge admitted. “I got these from the break room. There was a huge box that said ‘Happy Birthday Lindy’ on it and these two were left inside. It was very considerate of them to leave some for us. That never happens.”

“Who’s Lindy?” Pell ignored the sentiment and asked.

“How the hell should I know, man?” Hinge spouted. “Obviously, she must be some chick who works another shift, but that’s not important. What is important is free cupcakes!” Hinge happily took a big bite and then his whole face turned sour. “Uhh… I don’t think this is a cupcake,” he mumbled with his mouth full, bits of food falling out and onto the floor.

Pell glanced over and said calmly, “Yes, that would appear to be a mushroom.” Both cupcakes exploded a second later, emitting a brown gas that filled the security room.

◆◆◆

Hinge’s head was foggy as he finally came to. Pell was huddled over him, trying to shake him awake. “Ugh, how long was I out?” Hinge asked groggily as he sat upright.

“Looks like about half our shift went by,” Pell informed him. “I only just woke up a moment ago myself. Wait... do you hear that?”

“Uhh… No?” Hinge said a second later after trying to confirm the sound.

“Precisely, the machines have stopped!” Pell deduced, still acting surprisingly calm. “You check the footage, Hinge, I’ll go check out the printing area.”

Pell hurried out of the room, and Hinge pulled himself up to his chair, slumping down into it. This was certainly an issue, but no alarms had gone off, so it would likely be fine. There’d be several hours of footage to scrub through, but it at least gave them something to do. Hinge only managed to load up the footage before he heard an ear-piercing scream.

After checking to make sure his pistol was in working order, Hinge ran after the source of the commotion. When he got into the printing area, he could see Pell a distance away. Hinge ran over to him, to find him slumped onto the ground, practically ripping hair out of his head, muttering, “We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re so dead!”

Hinge finally looked around, and his eyes widened. Every single machine was broken, and would likely need to be entirely replaced. This really was a tragedy, but it wasn’t worth the crisis Pell was currently going through. So, Hinge followed his eyes to find what Pell refused to look away from. Then he saw it, and slumped to the ground as well. Every single printing plate had been fused together to form a giant Fiends For Hire logo.

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