James

 

“That sneaky bastard. Is this everything?”

"He claimed it's all he currently possesses, and gathering the rest would take some time."

"He ought to be more concerned..." James muttered while perusing the meager file. “Do you think he has a hidden ace up his sleeves or…there’s something in the information he’s withholding?”

“It is difficult to make a judgment with our current information.”

James glanced over at his capable assistant dressed prim and proper as always. “I want to know your thoughts regardless if you are certain or not. You should trust your instincts more, Sam.”

“Making a decision based on instinct is illogical and a game of luck.”

James chuckled at the young man's disapproving tone. "Aren't you a believer in the Lady of Luck? Shouldn't you trust your luck more?"

Sam adjusted his glasses. "I don't see a correlation between your observations."

"You believe in the Lady of Luck, Mr. Sam?" a surprised voice interjected.

"The Lady only aids those who help themselves," Sam replied to the curious boy who had been eavesdropping from the side. “She is not obligated to assist every fool who utters her name.”

“David, what are your thoughts? You’ve been paying close attention, I’m sure you have some insights you would like to share with the rest of us.”

Blushing, David offered a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to, but I might have... overheard a little bit." He instinctively ducked to evade a hand reaching for his hair.

“David over here has superior instincts. It’s too bad he didn’t want an official agency career. Alright kiddo, you can leave early today. There’s not much going on, and we need to save on some pay. There might be a monetary drought coming our way soon.”

“Good work.”

The door clicked closed behind the departing figure. The brief silence had barely settled in before it was broken once more.

“If you wish to keep him safe, why involve him at all?”

James sighed. “Sometimes, the obvious choice is only obvious because you don’t understand the unspoken nuances of a situation. Not all foolish decisions are made on a whim without many sleepless nights of contemplation.”

“I understand.”

James smiled as he turned back around. “You’ve always been a smart cookie, not so stubborn like that teacher of yours. I assume the preparations are in place?”

“Ready at your command, sir.”

-

The setting sun casts its golden glow upon the familiar scenery. The streets are filled with the coming and going of those leaving work and those who have just risen to start their day. Adjusting the lens, James scrutinized the seemingly ordinary buildings lining the street across from him.

"Did Team B uncover any leads pointing to this location?" Their journey to the artifact's discovery site had taken an unexpected turn upon receiving news of a potent magical surge in this particular area.

"The magic signature vanished before we could pinpoint its exact location, but alternative methods have helped us narrow it down. It's highly probable that it's within one of those buildings ahead."

“Trinket Trove…” James muttered to himself. “Is Item 005 prepared?”

“Activating 005 now.”

A pulsating energy emerged, gradually intensifying before settling into a steady rhythm. 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The ambient sounds of people vanished from the streets, leaving only silence and emptiness wherever the light touched. Item 005 was often used for its isolation properties. Any living organism that does not contain magic will be isolated.

Once the item was in operation, a hushed atmosphere enveloped the scene. James raised his hand, signaling the commencement of the mission.

However, before anybody could enter the building, the door creaked open and a robed figure emerged.

James raised his hand and everybody came to a halt, pointing their enhanced weapons at the figure.

-

Donovan

 

The initial imperceptible pulse caused Donovan's hand to pause, the cup of tea suspended midway to his lips. He carefully set the cup down, his mind recognizing the familiar effects. Item 005? It appears they’ve made all preparations before coming here.

Donovan glanced around the store one last time, feeling a touch of nostalgia. He knew leaving was inevitable when he took the mission, but…

These shelves that I installed last year because Alice complained about the scuffed appearance of the older ones. The service bell that dinged in an awkward tone. The light that always went out when it rained. The-

Stop. It’s time.

How many years had it been since he last wore this? It fitted as snugly as it did back then, molding to his face like liquid. They won’t be able to hold him here if he only wants to escape, but he has to bring the artifact with him. It is his duty as an artifact guard.

He placed his hand on the handle. For the organization. He instantly activated the puppet given to him by the organization for emergency situations. It has no combat power, so it could be easier smuggled into the city. It only needed to buy him enough time to arrive at the safe location not far from here.

The mask will hide him from the magical detection of 005, but it also leaves him actually powerless in the process. He was on a timer until the mask’s effects became permanent. He walked out the back door into the real world. I need to hurry.

The people parted around him subconsciously although they showed no signs of seeing him. A shattering noise made him flinch. He was startled by how quickly they discovered the puppet to be a fake. He touched the porcelain mask on his face. No, they will discover me the second I take this off.

His hand tightened around the well-warded package. Though he continued toward his destination, a hesitation lingered. He never received an answer about the object's identity, nor did he directly receive the order to guard it from an identified member of the organization. What if…

Before he could contemplate further, the decision was made for him.

*Riiiiiiing*

He instinctively tossed the item in his hands. The defensive wards were all still in place, but he is currently powerless to isolate the sound in his current state. Leaving the item,  he walks over to an alley, reappearing moments later with a new face.

“Would you like a paper, sir?”

Donovan calmly walked into a cafe nearby with the daily newspaper tucked under his arms.

“One cup of coffee please.”

The most dangerous place was, paradoxically, the safest. Escape during the city-wide lockdown was improbable, and he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't lead enemies to the safe base either. Choosing a spot to observe the street, he pretended to immerse himself in the newspaper.

It didn’t take long for an extraordinary party to notice the package tossed in the middle of the road as if it had been left by somebody in a hurry. It was not strange for the other forces in the dark to take notice of the disturbance and send scouts to check out the area. He would only be a little bit surprised if the agency found it first considering they were probably a little late dealing with the side effects of forcibly ending 005 to chase after him.

Unless, that person took action personally. Not impossible, but…

His body froze in place as something he never expected happened. Someone did come and it was indeed not the agency who first arrived, however it was somebody he never even considered.

His eyes widened in disbelief as a very familiar figure came into view.

 

Allen

 

“Mr. Allen?”

"Shhh." Allen inclined his head to the side, gazing out of the store window. "Do you hear that? The ringing?"

The store clerk fell silent for a moment before replying, “No sir, but my hearing has always been terrible. Are you…feeling alright, sir?”

Allen didn't respond. He moved to the window, surveying the street outside. I know this sound. He was certain he knew what the ringing was but he can’t seem to recall it no matter how hard he tried. It lingered on the edges of his mind, but remained elusive. A sharp pain jolted him out of his concentrated efforts.

“I’ll be back.”

He walked out of the store, following the sound. It felt like he was in a dream. The streets had emptied before he realized. It was also much darker than he remembered. Is it already so late? The sound is closer than he realized. There.

In the middle of the street, a clumsily wrapped package lay abandoned. It unraveled easily, revealing the source of the ringing—a familiar rectangle aglow with light. In a trance, he mechanically performed familiar actions and raised the now-silent object to his ears.

“Hello?”