Vere didn't even have to think twice about leaving the B-Side. Instead, remembering the feeling he had when he first arrived, he recalled it as his cognitive force churned out thought power that began to flow rhythmically.
Interestingly, a yellow-red aura enveloped him as he stepped forward with his eyes closed. A mustard yellow and a carmine red shadow fell either side of him, and as he opened his eyes, he was on the streets of Old Westwood once again.
The distinct clutter of broken machines crowded the streets as if to indicate the wealth of the future in general. When things that would be regarded as such high quality, it was insane (or at least that was the feeling Vere got) just laid about in broken heaps and caught no one's interest; clearly, those in wealthier positions must have had much, much higher quality.
It might even be the difference between night and day. Well, Vere always felt like more of a night person, anyways.
The five moons hanging in the atmosphere loomed above the very sky. A glimmer of radiance surrounded the yellow-red moon, and Vere felt a bit stronger underneath its casted light.
His eyes took in the neon signs he had seen once before, the details he remembered enough to arrive at Old Westwood Headquarters without fault. Olivette sat at her desk, the same polite smile carved onto her face as she adjusted her glasses.
"Vere Blanchett, welcome back. Morrigan is waiting for you in her office." She looked away from the panel interface for a second as Vere nodded and left, not one to bother people while they were working.
Her gaze lingered on his face at first, moving to his backside as he already got to moving. She blushed a bit, noting that he really was quite attractive, and returned to work.
Meanwhile, Vere had already arrived in Morrigan's office. Inwardly grumbling about the fact that he only had one bullet, he calmly took a seat in the dark room that was only illuminated by the panels of light appearing and disappearing at the chief's will.
"Here, accept it." She tapped on the light panel above her SAD and sent Vere a contact request, which he promptly accepted. It seemed to remind him of something, but his neutral poker face didn't betray any of his thoughts.
"So, since you have no memories, I guess you don't know about JJ&R? They're one of the biggest clothing brands across all of Morlund, not to mention Monfrey. They have branches in many places…and many offices to handle the requests and shipments. Since there's such a large number, the higher-ups generally don't care about the individual branches and accompanying offices. There's just way too many to handle."
"Right. And there's a problem that needs to be handled. So…how bad is it?" Vere leaned forward and plopped his arms on his legs. It did little to reduce his height, but it made him look a bit more friendly and inviting.
"JJ&R Old Westwood AO has been experiencing several…strange…issues. First, they refuse to fully state until a Warden has been put on the case and insist that they must be freelance. One thing is to be assured, however…the person that delivered this inquiry for a Warden smelled of charcoal."
"…Alright. Is there a reason why you haven't proceeded to do a check for cognitive force readings?" Vere arched a brow and inquired. If he had to admit it, he was curious about how the reading worked.
"Well, the area isn't very uninhabited. Even normal people produce a singular cognitive force and have accompanying thought power levels that come from it. It's easier to scan for fluctuations in places like the B-Side because there just aren't as many people clogging up our sensors." Morrigan sighed while rubbing her temples. It seemed this was an area of frustration for her, so Vere decided not to prod.
"Then I'm going. If you would be so kind as to show me the location via coordinates or something?" Vere stood up and pushed the chair back in, stretching his back and arms while talking.
"Yeah, I will send them to your SAD. But…don't you need some form of transportation? They have free use Quantum Subways to get there if you don't have anything else."
"…Why Quantum?" Vere pouted a bit as his tired, listless-looking irises slid over to the giggling Morrigan.
"Because they travel through space—silly. It helps not to clog the environment since it travels through a pocket dimension~!"
"Right. Of course, it does. I'll be on my way now." Vere promptly got up and left. Olivette looked up long enough just to catch him sauntering.
'He looks so relaxed, so why are those movements so fast?' She marveled. He had a somewhat languid, unhurried gait…yet the man was one of the fasted people she had seen. At least in a casual setting.
——
Vere breathed in a whimper of cold breath as his chest heaved. Walking down the chilly streets and navigating easily through the mist, he followed a series of signs to direct him further.
Glancing down at his SAD every now and then, he looked at the location of the accompaniment office.
>Old Westwood Ward 55, Stacey District.
It seemed the City of Old Westwood was quite expansive. It even had (what he assumed to be) a fashionable place for youths to shop.
Before long, he arrived at a sleek, metallic-looking subway station. The walls had their own little signs and lights, and various advertisements served as one of the most potent forms of illumination about the place.
Mobile virtual interfaces were carried by most of the pedestrians waiting in lengthy lines. Many of them glanced at Vere every now and then, who simply took his spot and kept his hands in his pockets.
A couple of times, the stares would linger for a bit too long. At that moment, our amiable seeming man would simply give them an even smile, close his eyes into weary crescents, and casually wave a gloved hand in greeting. This often elicited many gasps and blushes, and some even took the opportunity to speak to him.
As he engaged in conversation, he picked up on several pieces of information he lacked about the future. Though he was quickly able to pose as a history enthusiast due to the "ancient" quality of his clothes, he arched his brows as he heard about several details piqued his interest.
The Quantum Subway Car shuttled into the station, and the lines quickly entered the various sections of the long car. Vere was surprised that there was no check for identification, and he was simply allowed to sit where he wished.
As he sat on an extended bench, people gave him curious yet wary glances. The scars exposed by his arms were evocative of quite the dangerous man, and many people with families didn't want them to be tangled in that kind of a mess.
Vere understood and smiled anyway. Resting his elbows against his upper thighs, his gloved hands pointing downwards, he watched. The shuttle doors revealed luminous colors that expanded and contracted, revealing vortexes, spirals, and various other celestial patterns.
30 minutes later, a soft ripping sound rippled through the subway car. Then, as if someone took an eraser to it, the outside void was smudged and gradually replaced with the same sleek interior of the Quantum Subway Station.
Vere let the ordinary civilians leave first, taking his time to exit the vehicle. His eyes darted over, noting a vibrant blue painting in the corner, far into the darkness of the station.
The graffiti seemed to have several hands posed in separate ways, all beneath a glamorous depiction of a sun. Beneath it was the word "Adulation," and there was an odd winky face with an open mouth underneath.
What was odd about it was the thought power that Vere was picking up on. Deciding to note it down later, his SAD picked up on the Detail he realized and kept it for later use.
From thereon, he simply followed the GPS that seemed to be implanted into his senses. As a result, he could physically tell when he was getting closer and happened upon a glaringly unique five-story building.
It was tall, and the upper two floors were wholly composed of what looked like glass. A helipad was atop the building, and additional floating ones were hovering around the area. The building has gauche trim and various names and patterns, all praising their accomplished designers and the people that bring their visions to life.
There were even handprints on the pavement as he walked up. Then, as he breezed past the glass-paned door, it clicked shut.