The occasional roars of thunders from the distance accompanied by the splattering of raindrops hitting the roof of the house creates a pleasant and soothing symphony that relaxes the ears. On the floor of the living room is Noralie, sat infront of her father. The heat from the radiator warms her hands, and the wonderful aroma of vegetable soup emanating from the kitchen wafts through the air.

"Did you kill it?" Noralie asked, her eyes are dazzling with curiosity and eagerness.

"I did what I had to. It's either me or it." Gerhard adjusted himself on the sofa as he rub his hands together to get the friction to warm his palms. "It's not alive after all."

"That's awesome! May I go with you next time, pleaaaaaseee?"

"You know the answer, dear. It's dangerous." Gerhard pats the little Noralie's head for a moment and smiled, "If the time comes when you're old enough, maybe we can talk about it, don't you think?"

"When I'm old enough?" Noralie pondered the words for a moment before lifting her pink, furry teddy bear closer to her. "What do you think, Cuddles?"

"Really?" Noralie giggled before shifting her attention back to her father. "Cuddles said yes!"

"Heh. When that time arrives, I want you to protect Noralie for me. Yeah, Cuddles?" Gerhard laughs, his voice is deep, yet gentle as always.

"Darling, lunch is ready!" Mrs. Schumacher called out from the kitchen.

Gerhard leaned from his sofa and answered, "Coming, dear!"

Noralie heaved up on her feet and got closer to her father. "When I'm old enough, I'll be like you! Strong, brave, and a hero. You'll see!"

"Of course, dear. I can't wait to see that day. Now let's see your mother to the kitchen."

---

November 15, 2012...

11:10 AM, REISS Headquarters. Danelburg, Azurea...

The squad's common room remained totally unchanged, as if there's something to be expected about it. Though, amidst the familiar faces around the room, there was one exception…

At the other side of the room, Leon was sitting on his plain and undecorated desk beside Gunther's, juggling between scribbling in his notebook and stealing glances at his computer monitor, all while sucking on a lollipop. Noralie isn't sure if she will get along with him, he's that kind of intimidating but she decided to reserve her judgments nonetheless.

She began the second day of her duty in a repetitive and unstimulating cycle of activities, mostly involving about sorting stacks of documents, delivering them to their respective departments, and repeat. Even though she expected the early weeks of her duty to involve mostly about such lousy tasks, she never thought that the beginning of her career is going to be this bland. At this point, she's just hoping that the squad will recieve their next field mission that she can participate with anytime soon.

Her hands are occupied on stapling a bunch of papers together, with the monitor of her desk computer playing a compilation of funny cat videos which she casts an occasional glance while she work.

From the doors entered Ilse, who's carrying a couple of plastic bag filled with cans of beverages. "Drinks, everyone!"

She sauntered towards Gunther's desk and handed him one of the plastic bags, before heading towards her desk. From the bag she was holding, she plucked a can and carelessly thrown it towards Carl's direction. "There. Suck on it, bozo."

"Ay yo, chill," Carl caught the can midair. "Nice one."

"And here's yours, cream coffee just the way you like it." Ilse handed the other to Noralie.

"Thanks." With a nimble hand, Noralie reached for it, feeling the cool condensation against her fingertips, and proceeded to scratch the can's tab open, unleashing a burst of exhilarating fizz. She took a sip, and her taste buds danced as the creamy cold coffee enveloped her mouth with its luscious flavor. Mmmm, the delight of a canned heart attack.

"Enjoy." Ilse settled at her desk and popped her own beverage as she proceed to continue her own computer work.

Carl let out a deep, content sigh, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he inspected the brand label of the coffee. "I'm not one into coffee but this one packs like a horse's kick."

"Mmm-hmm," Noralie nodded. "Just don't drink it habitually or you'll end up having panic attacks like me."

"I'm already having palpitations, pretty sure it isn't that bad," he chuckled.

A hush fell over the room as the three of them focused on their tasks— Noralie stapling the stacks of papers in a smooth flow of motion, Ilse finishing writing a document with her computer, and Carl, well, he started to tidy his disaster desk.

A little while later, Dr. Christina entered the room. Beside her is a man wearing an all-black covert clothing. He has a deep scar visible on his cheek, and his hair is graying by age that streched throughout his trimmed, extended beard.

As mentioned in Noralie's identification sheet, she speculated this person to be their squad leader, Walter Zimmermann.

The two went straight towards the central table, where Walter opened and examined the contents of the red folder in his hands. He took a brief glance to the people around the room before calling, "Team, to the table, now."

Everyone stood from their desks, dropping off their current tasks and sauntered towards the table where they settled on their own seats. Noralie followed behind, taking a seat beside Gunther who flashed her with a casual smile.

When everyone was settled, they turned their eyes towards Walter, who took a deep breath before flicking a tiny remote that brought the projector above them to life. The light beamed forward, momentarily flashing him with a black and white palette for before stepping aside, allowing the projector to cast the image of the wyvern logo of REISS onto the white screen.

"Before we start, I want to welcome the newest member of our squad." Walter redirected his attention towards Noralie. "Welcome to the team, Operative Schumacher."

Seeing Noralie's uncertainty on how to react, Gunther chuckled, "Come on boss, you're making her nervous."

"I'm sorry. I assume that you have already met your colleagues, including Leon there so..." Walter flicked the remote once again. "...let's focus our attention to the matters at hand."

All eyes focused on the screen before them as it display a picture of what it looks like to be an aged historical mansion that bears the grandeur of aristocratic heritage.

"This is the Baümer's Mansion, located at the East District of Danelburg, where Leon and I scouted a potential case for the past few days." Walter continued, "And we have confirmed a phantom presence in the area..."

The image on the screen changed into an picture of a woman, which Noralie estimated to be in her mid-30s. She's standing near a fountain situated in what it looks to be a courtyard, wearing a sundress while holding the leash of a husky dog beside her.

"...this is Paula Baümer, the current owner of the mansion, and was reported to be the first victim of the phantom according to the Phantom Response Unit stationed in the area..."

Gunther reached for the folder, and unfurled its contents. Noralie leaned a bit and took a quick glimpse and in that instance, her eyes grew wide. The first page revealed a collection of black and white grainy photographs, each carefully taped in place. The images captured a series of grotesque scene of mangled bodies in unnerving poses like lifeless mannequins, drenched in what seems to be their blood. One figure had his stomach torn in half, another with its chest brutally caved in, exposing their gouged out chest organs.

What the...

Noralie's face contorted with revulsion as she quickly turned away from the horrid graphics, earning her an annoyed stare from Leon as she return her attention to Walter. On the other hand, Gunther remained relaxed, unfazed as his eyes skim nonchalantly across each pages.

"...days after Lady Baümer's disappearance, the incidents of the employees going missing started. There were bodies found at the different places of the mansion but the rest of the missing employees are still not found..."

The image on the screen shifted once more and now shows a picture of a man in a formal suit attire, sporting a thin moustache and a well-oiled combed hair.

"...these incidents prompted Herr Owen Achenbach, the chief butler serving the Baümer family, to temporarily shut down the mansion's premises and send the rest of the employees back to their homes due to the situation..."

Noralie's chest pounded as the projector flickered to a new image, now displaying a dim blurry photograph of a gravel road at night where a silhouette of a figure can be seen, hiding in the blankets of darkness as it stare into the camera with its yellow glowing eyes.

"...this is Codename Eidessa, the phantom we are trying to hunt down. This image was taken by a Response Unit agent minutes before we lost contact to him. He's still missing, along with a dozen of personnel that worked in the mansion."

"The behavioral patterns of this phantom is unpredictable, but based on the observations Walter and Leon conducted, it's mostly active and aggressive at night while being dormant during the day." Dr. Christina chimed in, breaking her silence as she stood beside the projector's screen.

She continued, "As of now, we are still yet to track its nest, and there are possibilities that the missing people were already either turned into lurkers, or bodies scrapped for parts to create a nest..."

"Why though?" Juliane raised an eyebrow. "We have an arsenal of tracking devices developed by the geeks, I'm sure you guys should've found it by now."

Beside her is Leon, who let out a deep breath before plucking the lollipop from his mouth. "That's the problem, Ju. The trackers acted funny when we operated them for some unknown reasons, hence why it's still not traced. There's something in this phantom that interferes with the signals."

"Leon is right." Walter leaned at the end of the table, "That's why we have to do it the old-fashioned way."

His eyes shifted towards Carl's direction, "As someone who has an adept knowledge on tracking, Carl, you will lead the Investigation and Analysis Phase with Ilse being your research analyst..."

Noralie was chilling on her chair while observing the screen infront of them, until she was caught off guard by the next words that came out of Walter's mouth that had everyone on the edge of their seats.

Crap...

"...I want Operative Schumacher to be your specialist in this mission."

The squad doesn't have any comments by this, almost all of them shows hints of approval as Gunther can be seen subtly nodding beside her. Juliane, on the other hand, is somewhat reserved on what to feel about it. There's no way Walter will throw her out there as if there's nothing could possibly go wrong.

"Sorry, what?" Across the table, Leon was dumbfounded, with his mouth gaping and eyebrows furrowed together. "We're not sending this recruit on her second day out there. The situation is dangerous and you know that."

Noralie shifted her gaze towards him, subtly observing his expression by his sudden outburst. There's nothing in his tone hinting that there's something in his demeanor was rubbed, it's more of a sympathetic one, perhaps, concern?

"You heard me, Leon," the squad leader glared. "I'm confident with her abilities and credentials as a trained recruit in the field of phantomology."

"Well that's just ridiculous." Leon sighed.

Walter turned his attention to Noralie, who had been silent the whole time. "Operative, I don't want to force you to undertake this mission so I will ask you, would you like to partake in the investigation and analysis phase?"

Noralie cracked her knuckles, pondering her choices. She never thought that there are tendencies of a recruit being sent to an on-site investigation that early, and Leon's concerns are totally valid considering how dangerous going out there without any prior experiences. In short, it's a literal death wish.

But didn't she joined REISS for this? To study phantoms just like her father? She awaited for this moment of opportunity for a long time only for her to just pass it up. It's her choice to take the risk.

"Your choice, operative."

Noralie took a deep breath, and nodded. "I'll do it, sir."

"Great." Walter glanced at Ilse's direction, "You know what to do."

"Yesssir." Ilse stood up from her seat and beckoned Noralie to follow. "Let's go."

Before Carl can leave his seat, he was once again called by the squad leader, "And you, Operative Schmidt, we have some matters to talk about. Stay for a while for a private briefing, the rest may return to their desks."

Noralie and Ilse proceeded to walk out of the squad's common room, leaving the rest of the team on their own brief talks. On their way, silence lingered between the two. Noralie's eyes remained fixated at the floor, watching the rhythms of her steps as her mind wanders aimlessly, mulling over the choice she had just made.

Was it foolish of me to mindlessly accept?

In the movies, the one who knows little about everything are always that annoying burden that ends up getting one of their comrades killed. Maybe she shouldn't have accepted Walter's offer, but it's too late. All she can do now is to hope everything doesn't end up that way. Backing out now will earn her nothing but disappointment from her superiors after all.

Seeing Noralie's uncertainty, Ilse went up on a small talk, "Congratulations on your first field mission out there."

"I only did simulations in the academy," Noralie sighed. "But I'll do my best, I guess..."

"Of course you will. We have each other's back and we'll pull this off."

With those words, a smile tugged Noralie's lips.

Ilse continued, "In case everything goes south, go straight for me. Carl's dumb arse will just likely get yourself killed. No cap."

The two burst into a cascade of laughter and having Noralie's worries and doubts uplifted, the two continued on their conversation about Ilse's own experiences in field missions.

---

The two arrived into the central area of the Preparation Hub where they are greeted by a spacious, warm space that's devoid of people. The place is decorated by pots of fiddle leaf figs and dracaneas at every corners, and flat screens fastened on the walls sitting idle as they display a spinning logo of REISS. At the series of sliding doors, they headed towards the one with a painted '6'on it, which was automatically opened as they approach. Inside, they are welcomed by different sections of locker stations assigned for the specific squads of the whole Orion Bloc.

In total, there are approximately nine squad blocs being housed in the headquarters. Assuming Noralie's count on the sliding doors in the hub's central area, it likely indicates that each bloc has its designated locker areas. As expected, the number of squads under the Orion Bloc appeared to be matched with the number of locker stations, including the Orion-13 which is also the thirteenth locker station. Arriving on their station, they were met by a total of eight imposing lockers, each are named to the members of the squad, except for the unassigned two.

"Here we go, there's your locker." Ilse pointed at the locker labeled 'N. Schumacher'. "That's where your gears are stored. After changing into your combat attire, you can fold and store your service uniform there, okay?"

"Got it." Noralie approached the locker, instictively looking for any scanner of some sort of opening button on it. She chuckled as she remembered the keycard that Dr. Christina gave to her yesterday.

She pulled out the wallet from the pocket of her pants where she plucked the smooth, green keycard from. Swiping it on the card reader, the locker unlocked with a click. Her hands yanked it open, and the pungent smell of brand new plastic invaded her nose, emanating from the set of combat gears resting inside. She can't help but find it pleasant to inhale.

One by one, she grabbed each equipments and settled them all on a nearby backless bench. She gave Ilse a long look, observing her taking off her outerwear, before changing into her combat gear. With a sigh, Noralie started to strip off her service uniform revealing the tank top and knee-length compression shorts she was wearing underneath that framed the curves of her robust body.

After a few minutes of strapping and lacing, stood up, clad in her newly issued combat uniform, donning a pair of leather combat boots, half-finger gloves, an empty holster belt, and an all-black covert clothing topped with a protective body armor vest. She then neatly folded her service attire and settled them inside her locker before closing it shut. By the time she was done, Ilse was already prepared and waiting for her.

"What do you think?" Noralie spread her arms wide.

"It suits you well," Ilse tapped her chin with her index finger while nodding. "How are you adjusting?"

"Kinda heavy but I'll manage."

"You'll get used to it. Let's wait for Carl."

Ilse settled on the backless bench and Noralie sat beside her shortly after. They spent the next few moments, accompanied by an empty silence until their ears perked up upon hearing the sliding doors from the entrance. Echoes of footsteps approached them and nearby,, emerged Carl, striding towards their station with a goofy grin forming his lips.

"Sorry I'm late. I'll just go get my gears real quick."

He dug straight towards his locker box and rushed to change his outfit. After adjusting his combat vest, he carelessly flung his clothes into the locker without bothering to organize and tidy them before closing it shut.

When everyone was set, they walked along the path in the middle of the locker area that stretched across a gaping doorway leading towards a new area. When they entered, Noralie's nose was assaulted by the thick acrid stench of sharp chemicals and metallic tang that lingered across the room. There's a counter at one side of the area where an aged man was brushing a barrel of a disassembled shotgun.

It's an armory of some sort, with a combination of garage as seen by the gray armored vans parked at one end. The rest of the space is separated by different sections of racks and shelves that sorted out every equipment to their own categories such as firearms, explosives, protective gears, and miscellaneous accessories. They approached an empty table at the sniffing distance and gathered for a short discussion.

"Are we going to bring some...stuffs?" asked Noralie.

"We're doing an analysis phase on-site so we'll only bring the usual equipments." Carl pondered for a while, staring intensely at the surface of the table. "Guns, ammos, and essential utilities, I mean. You two get the munitions, I'll take care of the rest."

"What weapons are we looking for exactly?"

"I have the list," Ilse proceeds to tap Noralie's shoulder. "I'll help you with it."

"Good, let's meet here at five." Carl clasped his hands as he separated from them, leaving the two on their own. Noralie took a cart of an empty, lightweight metal crate close by, and trailed behind Ilse as she lead the way. They browsed the aisles and shelves of equipments and racks of different weaponries as if they were shopping in a convenience store, though, in this case, they shop for guns.

After filling and organizing their crate with a variety of stuffs; a strange-looking net gun, a belt filled with round metal ball-like things, some electronic batons, medical kits, bunch of ammo boxes, and the like, they returned to the table where Carl is already sorting his crate that was stuffed by an assortment of electronics and devices.

He casts them a quick glance as he seal the crate shut. "So I guess, we're all set?"

"One moment." From the crate of Noralie's cart, Ilse took the three modified glock with white paint-job and blue accents, holstering one, while handing one to Carl.

Ilse turned her attention to Noralie and handed her the other, "There's your first weapon, you know how to use those, right?"

"I had firearms training in the academy but I never used anything like this before." Noralie examined the pistol for a moment.

"It functions just like a normal handgun, don't worry. That's called the SPX1. Its rounds contain concentrated elements, maximizing impact and penetration against phantoms."

Noralie nodded and checked the gun's safety switch before holstering it.

"We'll have to register you your permanent pistol sometime." Ilse continued, "Anyways, that's the most basic gun we have. Maybe one of these days, you'll get to use one and see how satisfying it is to obliterate those brainiacs."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Noralie pointed at her glasses.

"Whatever, Brau-nerd," Carl slid his crate on the table's surface towards Ilse's direction. "You two carry those box, we're leaving soon."

"Why you...bozo!"

Ilse's voice echoed across the armory as Carl headed towards the armored vans. She cradled the crate, balancing it with her arms and Noralie did the same, surprised by the weight of it, and the two proceeded to lag behind.

Carl inspected one of the van's tires, before heading towards the compartment doors, unlocking and yanking it open, allowing his two companions to store the heavy metal boxes of equipments.

"You guys ready? This'll be fun!"

He then headed towards the driver's seat, while Ilse hopped into the front passenger seat. Noralie entered the compartment, and forcefully pushed aside the metallic casings to make space for the side seats.

Seeing her settled through the rearview mirror, Carl flicked the keys, and the van roared to life. He reversed the vehicle, aligning it to face the overhead gate, sunlight then flooded the previously ambient armory as the gate open with a chain of loud, metallic racket.

The sudden motion of the van caused Noralie to shift sideways in her seat, her eyes adjusted to the brightness outside as she look at the empty highway. They are soon charging into the territory of an unknown gnarled entity along with her skilled comrades. She sat there, silently preparing the barriers of her mind for any nightmarish scourge her eyes will witness for the first time.