The vents of the room let out a stuttering choke as it began to filter out the smoke and ash in the air. Coughing was soon heard as Y/n waved his hand to clear the ash in the air away from his face. Grime was present in various parts of his face and suit, showing just how dirty the containment room had become after a few hours of neglect.
You know, when he decided to let fate take him to where it wanted, he didn't expect it to be here. Y/n thought to himself such a thing while standing a distance away from Scorched Girl. The child of ash and flames remained slumped against the floor while staring blankly at him with her eyeless white sockets. Her hands were stretched out as she held a small unlit match in his direction, once again signaling him to take it.
But just like before, he refused to take such a thing knowing how unpredictable and dangerous it could potentially be. His refusal, however, only caused Scorched Girl to start to sniffle and hiccup in sadness. Unlike before, however, Y/n found himself coldly ignoring it while he focused all of his attention on doing his duty.
Maybe it was because of yesterday, or maybe it was due to this unnatural coldness he was feeling within himself, but Y/n was becoming aware of how careless he actually was being regarding the dangers that came with this job. Most of which he had barely realized he was doing, almost like he subconsciously pushed aside such matters like they were nothing but an afterthought.
He wondered to himself how long it would have taken for him to have gotten killed with the way he was acting. Such carelessness would surely have upped the chances of it occurring. A small part of him felt that it wouldn't have taken a day either for it to happen.
Taking a moment to clean himself up, Y/n picked up a spare rag and began wiping his face and hands. The grime, while difficult to take off at first, slowly began to clear from his skin. Once he was satisfied, he began to collect his things and wrote his observation report.
He didn't add much since at this point most of Scorched Girl's behavior patterns were already documented. Having the same thing be written over and over would simply be a waste of resources. So he gladly took the rest of the time in here to ponder.
The sores and aching of his body had lessened considerably as the day went on. He wanted to think it was due to the regenerators fixing him up but knew that this was most likely just the adrenaline running through him. He could still feel a slight sense of tiredness whenever he stopped to rest from even the most trivial of tasks.
At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if he fell asleep the moment he touches his bed. Perhaps he should've stayed in bed like he was meant to.
"Gah, why is it so hot?"
The complaint slipped through his lips as Y/n began to feel sweat stick his shirt to his skin. Glancing at Scorched Girl showed that she hadn't moved any closer than before, yet the temperature around him seemed to gradually get hotter.
Adding more to the discomfort, he also began to feel an irritating itch on his neck. Thinking it was due to his sweat and the tightness of his collar, Y/n unbuttoned it and loosened his necktie. However none of it seemed to be of any use in relieving him. In fact, it seemed to only bring more awareness to the fact that said itch existed.
A simple scratch would ease it, he thought to himself. Bringing a single finger to his neck, he scrapped it back and forth across his skin. What was supposed to be a quick look of relief turned into a confused stare as he scrunched his brows.
He was sure that he was scratching it, he could feel his finger right on it. It laid just under the tip of his fingernail, he was just barely missing his target.
Confusion turned to frustration, the itch was building up the longer he continued to scratch. One finger became two as the sound of his nails scraping against his skin could just barely be heard amidst the cries from Scorched Girl.
Unbeknownst to Y/n, the abnormality that took the appearance of a little girl was also increasing the intensity of its cries. Almost as if in response to the neglect that it was experiencing, the more Y/n continued to grunt and scratch, the harsher it's sobs became. Soon, he was scratching without restraint while Scorched Girl was on the floor in a fetal position shivering ever so often.
All four fingers and his thumb were being used. He ignored the wet substance that was sticking underneath his nails as he continued trying to dig into his own skin in order to reach that one spot. It proved to be of no use as it continued to squirm and dodge it's way across his neck, unbothered by the attempts he made to get rid of it.
Y/n's mind was focused, narrow-minded on the sole purpose of releasing himself of this torture he was experiencing. At some point he began using his other hand as well to complete this task. With both of them now desperately clawing away at his throat and cheek, he failed to notice the gradual lack of air he was getting.
His vision was becoming hazy. The smoke around the room was blending in with the dark shadows in the corner of his eyes. Yet he continued moving his hands nonstop, not because he didn't want to but because he couldn't stop them if he tried. They were moving on their own, as if of their own free his hands desired to rid him of the irritation.
Just as he was beginning to think he was going to pass out, something grabbed both of his arms and quickly restrained him.
"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!"
A voice spoke just to the left of him, most likely the owner of what he presumed to be the arms restraining his own. Y/n's head immediately went limp in their arms as the energy from his body was sapped out of him. Dangling his head, his eyes could barely make out the hazy figure of Dana cautiously keeping her distance from Scorched Girl.
"Get him out of here!" Another voice, most likely hers, spoke as two sets of footsteps moved in a hurry.
Y/n could faintly register her figure trying to console the child of ash as he was dragged out of the room. The metal door abruptly cut the scene short as a clerk closed the door right as they made it through, leaving Dana to deal with the hysterical abnormality inside.
"Hey man! Are you alright?!" Someone, a male it seemed like, called out to him as he was laid down onto the ground. "Oh geez, oh geez! You're bleeding! Hey guys, he's bleeding!"
"I know that! I got it all over my shirt if you couldn't tell!" Another male voice responded in annoyance. "Harold, what the hell are you doing just standing there?! Get a med-kit or something!"
"R-Right!" A timid voice meekly said back before footsteps began thumping to the right.
The panic was evident in their tone, making Y/n wonder what was going on. He wasn't left in the dark for too long as he sat up a bit and noticed the sticky substance on his hands. The one who was bleeding was in fact him, but rather than be alarmed Y/n was too busy trying to understand why this happened to actually care.
"Woah, woah, woah! You need to lie down!" A pair of hands gripped Y/n's shoulders and forcibly pushed him back to the floor. "J-Just wait a moment, I'm sure that we'll get you fixed up in a jiffy."
Taking their words into account Y/n reluctantly laid back down as the man began to apply pressure to his neck. He didn't know how bad of a condition he was in, but judging from the fact that they were quite jumpy, he didn't think it was that great.
Soon the man, Harold if he could recall, came back with a metal box. Placing it onto the ground, they began opening it and taking out its contents. Though timid, Harold seemed to be quite efficient in applying the disinfectant and bandages.
It wasn't long before Y/n was finally allowed to sit up with bandages wrapped tightly around his neck and lower cheek bones. The stinging in his neck kept his mind off from recalling that 'itch' he had earlier. But the stains on his hands was a grave reminder.
Perhaps noticing his gaze, one of the clerks decided to ask the question that was most likely on all their minds.
"What the hell was that, man?"
The one who spoke was a man with brown hair and similarly brown eyes. He looked quite young for someone to be working here, but age never mattered to a 'Wing'.
"I know working here is stressful and all but you don't have to resort to self-harm, you know?"
Y/n frowned when he heard that. He didn't like the implications of that statement but couldn't refute the reasoning. He at least wanted to clear up the misunderstanding and explain that not even he understood what happened, but before he could one of the other clerks spoke up.
"Don't bother trying to reason with the psycho." The clerk with an attitude had raven hair and a pair of black eyes. Square glasses laid on his nose as he pushed it up with a frown. "It's obvious that he's not right in the head."
"Woah, what? Come on, that's a little bit harsh! It could be because of that abnormality, you never know! I've heard all sorts of things from Dana, those things are unpredictable!" The brown-haired clerk responded back with a frown of his own.
Ignoring him, the raven haired clerk shook his head in exasperated disbelief and began to walk away. "This will be our first and only meeting regardless. Harold, do me a favor and educate these hooligans for me." The timid clerk flinched at that before nodding his head at his retreating figure.
The brunet felt his brow twitch at that while Y/n took a deep breathe and began to stand up. Harold had enough manners to at least wait for the man to fully stand before saying anything else.
"Are you alright? If I were you, I'd take the rest of the day off."
Harold suggested with a worried look. The brunet found himself nodding in agreement as he supported Y/n with a hand on his back. Y/n took those words to heart as he too thought that it wasn't of any benefit to continue working any longer.
"Yeah, I'm fine. And I think I'm gonna follow through with that."
"That's great! it's important to keep your health in mind at all times." The brunet cheered with a toothy smile.
"Indeed, though I would like to say that you should probably check in for mental corruption. Mental health is just as important as physical health."
Y/n refrained from nodding his head due to his injuries, but didn't miss to send a look of confirmation. He felt a little iffy being told such things by clerks, it wasn't like he didn't know what to do. But the mention of mental corruption caused him to halt.
When was the last time he checked in for a mental diagnostic? He couldn't remember if he were to be quite honest. Being so busy the past week or so, Y/n simply forgot about it. Though he was pretty sure that they were supposedly a daily thing, so the question was: why hadn't anyone notified him of missing them?
"I hope you don't take what Clime said to heart." Harold's voice caused Y/n to snap his attention back to him. "He doesn't really take into consideration of others and their problems. So he might come off as—"
"A douche?" The brunet finished for him. To which Harold only offered a sheepish smile in response.
"I was thinking of something along the lines of short-tempered, but we could go with that."
"What's with this Clime guy calling him a psycho and all that jazz?" Directing his attention back to the wounded man, Harold also shifted his gaze towards him.
Awkwardly laughing to the side, Harold seemed reluctant to answer.
"I don't want to say anything I shouldn't, after all it's not my place to give out personal information. But I can at least tell you that we are both old colleagues and used-to-be medical students."
"So what, you're both doctors?" The brown haired man questioned.
"No, we were about to be doctors. Our professions were cut short once we were invited to work here. I guess you could say that's one reason why Clime is in a foul mood."
"Foul mood is putting it lightly. If you told me that he had a stick up his ass I would've believed you." Y/n jokingly commented underneath his breath before gripping his head as he began to feel a dizzy.
Luckily, the other two didn't hear or see him as they were soon caught up in a discussion about something along the lines of a "nest". Y/n didn't fully understand why they would be talking about birds now of all times but it seemed to be getting them quite heated at the moment.
Frowning a bit at how loud they were becoming Y/n shook his head and prepared himself to leave before they could involve him in it. Whatever the conversation had turned into was not his business anymore, so the faster he left the less he would have to worry about.
"H-Hello, excuse me, can you help me with something?"
His departure came to a sudden stop when he felt a tap in his shoulder causing him to turn around and be greeted by a woman nervously waving her hand at him. She had long black hair tied into twin-tails, the standard suit that agents were made to wear, and a brown armband on her shoulder.
They stared at each other for a few seconds in silence. The gears in Y/n's head turned as he tried to quickly come up with an excuse to not help. If he were to be honest, he was very tempted to just dump whatever work he had left onto an unfortunate clerk and then take the rest of the day off.
Y/n ignored the curious glances that she was giving his neck as he turned his gaze to the two men still arguing. Their loud voices had lost some of their original heat, but the tension seemed far worst than what it was before. Which was surprising given how it was all friendly at the beginning.
Whatever the case was, it would be best to not draw their foul mood in their direction.
"Depends on what you need help with." Y/n finally spoke after bringing his gaze back to her, just barely fighting back a sigh.
"Oh, it isn't that much! I just need help finding someone by the name of Y/n. Do you know where I can find him?"
Taken by surprise, Y/n could only stare at her with confusion as he had no idea why she would be looking for him. He could only chuckle humorlessly at the coincidence of this happening.
"It must be your lucky day cause you're looking at him." His words came out in a tired tone. He could've simply lied about it and go about his day, but the possibility of this being important made him falter. "I'm Y/n, just Y/n, nice to meet you Ms?"
"Ruki is fine, no need for Ms or especially Mrs." She spoke in a friendly manner that clearly had a hint of awkwardness, no doubt from the situation she was witnessing just a few feet away from them.
"Nice to meet you Ruki, now what can I do for you?"
"Ah, Hod asked me to find and bring you back to the Training Department. She said she needs help with something about a presentation?"
"A presentation?" Y/n questioned before thinking about what she could possibly need him for. She was already capable of doing presentations in her own. "Sorry, but gonna have to say no to that. If you couldn't tell, I'm completely beat."
Despite saying it in a sarcastic tone, Ruki winced a bit as she could see that he wasn't lying about how he looked. His suit was disheveled, his hair was a mess, and the bandages covering the entirety of his neck didn't help his image one bit.
"No kidding, you look like you've seen better days. Well, hopefully you have." Her comment got a dry laugh from him before he started walking past her.
"Sorry in advance if you get in trouble. Though I doubt you will since it's Hod we're talking about. The most you'll get is probably a scolding."
"Are you sure you don't want to tell her yourself about this?" Ruki asked in concern. "If she's as easy going as you are making her out to be, couldn't you just ask her yourself to be let off?"
Hearing the question, Y/n mulled it over for a while before shaking his head. She probably would, but in the chance that she doesn't? Well let's just say that he can't say no to her when she uses her adorable pout and 'pleases'. He hated to admit that he was weak to such things, perhaps that's why BongBong could win almost any argument with him.
"No, the quicker I get some rest, the earlier I can start working again." His words came out with a sigh as he mentally berated himself for even getting out of bed today.
Ruki didn't say anything else except give a nod and a friendly wave of goodbye. Y/n waved back before leaving the area in the direction of the nearest elevator for his dorm room.
Watching him leave, Ruki uncomfortably fidgeted in place before swirling around to observe her surroundings. The two clerks were still arguing, not once taking notice of her arrival or Y/n's departure. She ignored that and instead focused on the dreadful feeling of being watched that she had felt throughout the entire day.
Her eyes wondered to the corners of the room and spotted several cameras. When she noticed that they weren't looking in her direction, she shifted her gaze to the other side of the room.
She found nothing.
Yet, the pair of eyes that laid upon her figure still persisted and she couldn't help but be afraid of what was happening to her. Not wanting to stick around any longer, she quickly took off to the opposite end of the hallway and left to tell Hod about what Y/n said.
All the while the feeling of being watched never once left her.
Unbeknownst to anything regarding to their surroundings, the brunet and Harold had finally reached the end of their little quarrel. Their lungs pumped as they breathed heavily in gasps of air. The kind look that the Brunet had was long gone as a look of disdain made its way into his eyes. Harold wasn't much better as his timid personality was gone and in it's place was one of disbelief and anger.
"Tch! Whatever, you Nest Dwellers are all the same!" The brunet growled angrily to which he only received small glare in return.
"You wouldn't understand what we have to go through. You think that you are the only one with misfortune in their life?" Harold spoke grimly as his eyes narrowed, a small hint of hurt laid beneath that exterior of anger.
"No, but I sure didn't get to live one full of luxury like you two seemed to have gotten!"
"I think you've got the wrong idea of what it is like in the Nest."
"Oh sure, yeah you're right. I'm too much of a plebeian to understand how privileged you are. So sorry, your Highness, that such a piece of trash like myself could try and fathom what you're life is like."
Harold tightened his fist.
"Hey, Y/n! Are you alright?!" Dana's figure came rushing out of Scorched Girl's chamber. Her head turned back and forth before locking on the two of them before she began moving towards their direction. "Carlos, Harold, where are Y/n and Clime?"
The brown haired clerk turned his confused gaze to where Y/n was supposed to be standing at as Harold did the same. Now that they thought about it, they noticed that they hadn't heard any input from him in a long time. Only now did they realized that he must've slipped away while they were talking.
The two of them stayed silent for a moment. Neither knowing how to respond as they too didn't gave an answer. After a moment of seeing Dana's questioning stare, Carlos was the first to speak.
"Y/n was just here a minute ago." The brunet shook his head with a shrug, not really giving her any form of comfort.
"And Clime left to finish his reports for today." Harold lied to cover for him, something that Carlos noticed as he sent another glare his way.
If Dana noticed the tension in the air she didn't seem too keen on commenting on it. Alternating her gaze between the two of them, she simply cocked a brow before sighing.
"Well, glad that everyone is fine. Either of you mind telling me what happened to Y/n?"
Carlos immediately had a guilty look on his face as he completely forgot about him. Harold only frowned as he placed a finger under his chin in thought.
"Well, we didn't exactly get to verbally question what happened to him. But I do have a hunch."
"Oh? What's the hunch dOcToR HaRoLd?"
Dana sent an apprehensive look at the brunet as she silently questioned what had happened to have him act like this. Harold ignored the snarky and mocking tone to his side as he instead stared at Dana with a uncertain look.
"Don't take my words to heart, I'm not too sure myself if this is the reason. After all, it could be an Abnormality at work here. But if it isn't, I'm seen symptoms similar to patients I've seen in the past."
"Patients? What, are you saying that he's sick?" Dana looked at him with concern as she really hoped that he wasn't. Though she was relieved when she saw him shake his head.
"Sick could be used to describe them but I would better describe it as a condition." He stopped as he looked at the both of them. Debating on whether or not he should say it, he finally decided to when he noticed their probing gazes. "For the record, the patients I've worked with were not as severe as what I saw today, but I can that this Y/n person was displaying certain symptoms of withdrawal."
"Withdrawal? You mean that he's a drug addict?" Carlos asked confusingly to which Harold nodded his head slightly.
"The scratching, the vast amount of sweat, constant twitching and aches, disorientation, slight tiredness, these are all things I saw from him when we were bandaging him up."
"You didn't think at any point at all to just, you know, bring it up before he left for God knows where?"
Hearing that, Harold sent Carlos an annoyed stink eye.
" I would've if someone kept their emotions in check. Besides, I thought that you would've known what he was going through."
"Wanna explain what the hell you mean by that?!"
Before either of them could continue, Dana stepped right between them and placed a hand in each of their shoulders to create distance between them.
"Calm down both of you! I don't know what's gotten between you two but this needs to stop!" She reprimanded them like a mother would her two children. Neither seemed all too happy about that but both of them understood that she wouldn't let them continue. "Harold, how about you go and report to Sephirah Malkuth about the condition of Scorched Girl's meltdown. Carlos and I'll see if anyone else around here needs assistance."
Carlos was close to speaking up to argue but stopped when he saw that Dana was giving him a look of disappointment. In all his time working in the Control Team he had not once seen her have such a look be directed at him. Usually it was Malkuth who did so, but it never mattered as she did that to everyone. The fact that it was someone who was always caring and so motherly to everyone, it only made it hurt that much worse.
Seeing his deflating anger, Harold too ceased any of his previous hostility. Looking at Dana, he slowly nodded his head before muttering a meek "sorry" underneath his breath as he began to leave. Whether that sorry was for his inappropriate behavior or for something else entirely, she didn't know.
When it was finally just the two of them, Dana didn't mutter a word as she readjusted her EGO in her back and began walking away. Carlos followed behind her silently, too ashamed to even say a word. He made a mental note to himself that he would have to apologize to her later.
Only to her though.
His anger for the other two still hadn't quite been quenched. After all, as long as they were from the Nest he would hold no sympathy for them. Just like how they would to him.
———————————————————————————
Middle Layer: Briah
Mindlessly jotting down words on the report sheet in his hands, Renold unenthusiastically nodded his head to the words of the little child in front of him. The calm and soothing sound of their voice entered through one ear and out the other, something that they noticed very quickly but didn't seem to find worth bringing up.
Instead of paying attention, Renold's golden eyes raced side to side as he skimmed through the faces of those who he could see. When said faces weren't the ones he was looking for, he began looking at the color of their hair. Brown, black, blonde, gray, none of them were the one singular color he had hoped to see. It didn't help that the location that they were in was a large room.
If you could call something as big as this that.
The "room" was plastered in a yellow/golden look with white marble flooring. The walls were decorated and color coated in a theme similar to an opera theatre, ironic given the circumstances everyone was in. Renold would've thought of a distasteful remark if he wasn't so preoccupied at the moment.
Perhaps having enough of the scene before him, the third wheel of the two loudly cleared his throat. The child stopped mid-sentence while Renold finally tore his eyes away from his surroundings. They both turned to stare at the man giving them an amused look. His long black hair was loose as it reached his hips, his bangs closely reaching his brows. The letter 'T' was visible on the armband wrapped around the sleeve of his suit as he reached into his pockets to fish something out.
This man was Fa Zhang, Captain of the department that they were currently in and the most cooperative one out of the three in the Middle Floors. Something that was appreciated by anyone who spoke to him, which is why Renold gave him the privilege of having his attention.
After a moment or two, he finally found what he was looking for before pulling out a lighter and a cigar from his pockets. With their attention on him, he casually lit the cigar. The end burned bright as it quickly caught on fire and seemed to be getting larger. But before it could, he quickly snuffed it out with his fingers and brought it to his mouth while taking a deep drag. Holding it in for a moment, he then slowly released it from out of his nostrils while giving them both a relaxed smile.
"Pretty cool, right? Learned that a few days ago from Jammie. Unfortunately, he got splattered all over the walls just last night before he could teach me anymore of his tricks. How cruel this world is."
Fa Zhang shook his head with obvious fake remorse, but it seemed that either the child didn't realize or chose to ignore it. Favoring to also show a sad look at the words he spoke, the child nodded his head in agreement.
"Yes, it is quite unfortunate that such an event had occurred. Jammie had a lot of potential and could have proven to be a valuable member for our department."
"Hah, I'm sure he would have been happy to hear that, Young Sir." He replied while waving off the sad look he was receiving. "But don't worry your little head on it too much. I'm sure that we'll find another person like him in the near future."
With another drag from the cigar, he placed his hand on the kid's blonde hair before playfully rubbing it. The kid didn't show any resistance as he nodded his head with a smile. Though the smile didn't last long as he then turned back to Renold who was silently watching them.
"Ah, Mister Renold, since it seems I have your attention once more, I would like to start where I left off. It seems that our E.G.O. equipment has been severely damaged due to our recent activities this past week."
Glancing at the clipboard in his hands, he then frowned a bit after reading it once more.
"Lady Gebura seems to be the one in most need of E.G.O. repairs while Mister Chesed's department is in the least need. Fortunately, due to the efforts of the Welfare Team, there are no issues in regards to our staff's morale or mental corruption."
At the mention of the Welfare Team's Sephirah, Renold slightly squinted his eyes and stood a bit straighter. Something that Fa Zhang noticed while nonchalantly keeping the cigar in his mouth. In his head, however, he sighed to himself as he noticed that nothing seemed to have changed this time around as well.
"It would be best to prioritize the repairs for each department in the following order; Disciplinary, Central Command, then Welfare." He finished before looking back up at Renold for any of his personal inputs. To which the man only subtly nodded his head in response. "Although I understand that it may be too much of me to ask, it would be of great benefit to us all if you were to begin immediately."
"With much due respect Sephirah Tiphereth, my schedule will unfortunately be full. The Manager this time around seems to be one of the more.....unique ones."
He paused for a moment as if letting them catch up with his words before resuming.
"Therefore my top priority will vary depending on the circumstances that the Manager finds himself in. Of course, the repairs will be done whenever I am able to, though it would be best to get the easiest of them out of the way first."
Fa Zhang's eyes glinted for a moment in a sign of interest as he eyed Renold amusingly. The implications of what he said wasn't lost on him as the favoritism was in plain sight to anyone listening. Tiphereth, on the other hand, only tilted his head to the side in confusion. Not really understanding the logic behind his decision, he gave him a questioning look.
"That doesn't sound very optimal—"
"I have already discussed such matters with Lady Angela. The Manager is to be top priority, especially given the time restraint we are currently under in regards to the supervision of the Upper Sephirot."
There was no hesitation as he responded immediately. Despite his words however, there was not even a slight sound of interest in his voice. Resulting it to sound as if he were casually dismissing the conversation, almost as if he had rehearsed the response long before they had been spoken. Though that last portion seemed to be more directed at Fa Zhang than it was for Tiphereth.
Seeing that he wasn't going to budge, Fa Zhang decided that it would be best to simply end their conversation there. Putting a hand on Tiphereth's shoulder, he slowly ushered him in the direction of the nearest exit.
"Khm! Maybe it would be best for you to go now." Clearing his throat of the smoke he had just breathed in, Fa Zhang smiled reassuringly when he saw the reluctant look on the child's face. "I believe that the Young Miss might need your assistance in her reports. Though stubborn,you're one of the only ones who she will receive help from, so I'm sure she will appreciate it."
Tiphereth's eyebrows creased as he went deep in thought. After a second or two he finally nodded his head appreciatively. His eyes held a sense of trust and optimism in them that it almost made him wince, but he didn't as he still held the same smile.
"Then I will it to you, Mister Zhang."
"Like I said, don't worry your little head on it. I'll take care of Renold here for ya."
Seeing Tiphereth leave, Fa Zhang's smile slowly turned flat. The cigar in his mouth burning bright as he took a deep breathe, but never once did it decrease in length. The smoke of ash filling his throat with a coarse taste sat there suffocatingly. Only when Renold finally spoke did he release it from his lungs and replaced it with a batch of fresh air.
"If I remember correctly, I thought that you despised children."
Turning around with a small frown, he snatched the cigar from his mouth and flicked it at Renold. It flew in the air in his direction and just before it could hit him in the eye, it stopped as Renold caught it within his palm.
"Excuse me for the disrespect, but I would appreciate it if you could quit with these mind games already. The Young Miss? Sure, you could say I have a strong dislike for her. But him? We both know that he's anything but a kid. Especially with what he's got in that little noggin of his up there."
Ignoring his words as if he were never interested in the first place, Renold carefully began to peel the wrapping of the cigar. Dropping the flimsy material to the ground, he held out his hand and revealed what seemed to be a bundle of sticks taped together. Said sticks continued to emit smoke before finally coming back to life with the sudden fresh air it received.
"I believe I also remember telling you not to treat EGO's lightly."
Any further protests died at that moment. Averting his eyes, Fa Zhang clicked his tongue in mock annoyance at being caught red-handed. Not that he expected to even get away with it in the first place. He could always sneak back up there and get some more anyways, that is if they don't straight up "retire" him before then.
Though now wasn't the time for such thoughts because from the piercing look that Renold had, it looked like he wasn't too happy from his exploitation. Or maybe he was just annoyed for interrupting his little "search" earlier? Who could say, definitely not Zhang.
"What? It's called being optimal with my resources. Think about it. A cigar that never wilts away. We could be making a profit if we sold this in the City. Besides! It's not like it's hurting anyone, other than my own lungs that is."
Signaling a clerk to him, Renold handed them the bundle of matchsticks from Scorched Girl before telling them to lock it up. The clerk looked at the matches skeptically before shaking their head and doing what they were told to do. Flipping through his reports, Renold gave him a side glance while tapping on a certain page.
"Inappropriate use of EGO's is a third degree violation of employee and workplace safety. Such actions can and will result in demotion, expulsion of your position, and—"
"Blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I get it. No need for the dramatic explanation. This isn't like you to worry about the little things, so just get to the point please. I think we both know that this isn't what you're worried about."
Though rude, Fa Zhang knew that such things weren't really matters that Renold would concern himself with. Hearing this, Renold quietly closed his mouth before the edges of his lips curved upwards to a rare smirk. His tapping ceased as he slowly brought the clipboard down to his hip. For a moment the two of them simply stared at each other; one with a look of appreciation and the other a skeptical gaze.
Renold wasn't one to smile often. In fact, there were very few things that could get such "positive" reactions from him. More often than not, the causes were far from what others would consider pleasant. Which was why it was more concerning than anything else when it actually appeared.
Slightly unnerved by the look, Fa Zhang coughed into his fist to clear his throat. Perhaps taking that as the signal to move forward with the conversation Renold's smirk turned flat before speaking.
"Good, I will admit that it is quite nice having someone as perceptive as you." The compliment did little to loosen the man's tense mood, it even seemed to be doing the opposite. "I've come to bargain for your cooperation in dealing with our, as Lady Angela calls it, 'rat' problem."
"Ah yes, the 'rat'. I completely forgot about the little fella. If he's still scurrying around would I be right to say that the Records Department isn't up and running yet?"
"Indeed you would be correct. Maintenance has been halted until the Sephirah is activated."
"What a bummer, would've liked to have my crew back before anything crazy happens." Kicking the floor with his foot, Fa Zhang glanced around while thinking for a bit. After a second or two he finally stopped before sighing. "Fine, I'll help you. Though I can't promise you that we'll find him. After all, this place is like a maze within a maze."
"That alone is satisfactory enough. The time limit is three days, any sooner will cause unnecessary setbacks. For your cooperation, I'll overlook your abuse of EGO this time around."
Stretching his free hand towards him, Renold calmly offered a handshake while staring at him intently. He could see the small glimpses of hesitation in Zhang's eyes, most likely weighing the benefits of accepting his words. But as quick as it appeared it vanished as he clamped his hand over his, bringing their talk to a conclusion.
"Highly appreciated." Zhang muttered under his breath while releasing his grip. Rolling his shoulders, causing them to pop, he glanced at his watch to notice that a few minutes had gone by since Tiphereth's departure. "If that's all you needed from me, I think it's time for me to get moving. Make sure you get those repairs done too, might need them soon at the rate that the Disciplinary Team is going."
"How troublesome. I'll see to it that it is done."
Receiving a nod in return, Renold silently watched as Fa Zhang made his way through a crowd of employees. Only when his figure disappeared did he tear his gaze away before settling it on a specific door on the other side of the room. He stared longingly at it, as if waiting for it to open and someone to pass through. Unfortunately, the truth was that no matter how long he did, it remained completely still.
'Patience.'
He reminded himself while turning away, eyes filled with determination that wavered just a tiny bit.
'I must have patience.'
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Xavier's POV
Releasing all my weight onto my chair, I leaned back while closing my eyes. Staring at a screen, especially as long as I did, was putting a strain to vision. I was sure that this wasn't healthy in the slightest, but there was nothing I could do to alleviate such a problem. Despite this, I was feeling quite relieved at the moment and even a bit proud of myself. Opening my eyes a bit, the cause of such feelings was present on my screen.
A bluish-green text box with the title 'Management Report' at the top took up a majority of the screen. The entire thing was segmented into four parts that summarized the day: Promotion, History, Rank, and Timeline. Every day I would receive this exact same text box whenever the energy quota was met and I ended the day, making it a routine for me to glance it over.
My eyes ignored the promotion and timeline segments before I immediately honed in on the history and ranking. Although history and timeline seemed to be similar at first, the former was far more detailed than the latter as it didn't simplify any information.
Rank was, to my guess, a ranking system on my overall performance. This most likely included how well I coordinated the Agents, how well I suppressed any anomalies that appeared, and et cetera. Which is why I was proud to see the letter 'S' as the ranking, signifying that my efforts weren't in vain.
History was a bit more complicated than I had originally thought at the beginning of my "career". At first it seemed to simply be a documentation of the events that occurred during the day. Sounded like nothing special at first.
Of course, that was until I went back and checked the past week or so's reports and noticed that it included events of both before and after any resets that I had done. Including certain events that are no doubt the stem of my uncertainty and self-doubts.
One wouldn't put their mind in it for too long as it didn't seem to be that important. I would've done the same if I hadn't gotten an epiphany just at this moment.
To put the TT2 Protocol in the simplest terms one could call it time travel, because for all of its intents and purposes it was simply just that. The act of reversing time, making the events that were happening become events that will happen if no precautions were made to prevent them.
However, if that were the case then that in of itself brought on its own questions. Like the reports I had just seen for example. If the TT2 Protocol was undoubtedly the act of reversing time, then why were the details of the events still present and documented for me to read. Shouldn't they have been overwritten or replaced with the latest loop?
It wasn't the case since the evidence was in the system itself, recorded and most likely archived. I might have to go back and review them again to make sure I didn't miss anything. Though now that I've come this far, another thing to think about has earaches my mind. Wouldn't there technically be records of the previous managers' reports within the system for me to look at?
Logically speaking, if they had gone through the exact same thing as I have, then there should be some form of files to look at. As much as I have come to hate paperwork, I wouldn't mind spending some time looking through some of them if that were the case. After all, there could be some useful information that could make my life just a little more easier.
I couldn't lie and say that a small part of me wanted to simply quench the thirst of curiosity I had. It wouldn't harm anyone in knowing a little bit more about the situation I'm currently in, or at least that's what I'm hoping for.
Deciding to stretch my legs for a bit I slowly stood up as my joints popped, making me release a satisfied sigh. Once my knees were ready to move I turned and glanced at my assistant who had not once spoken after her greeting. Tapping away at her keyboard, it made me question why an AI like herself who need to do such a thing when she was quite literally connected to the system.
Perhaps I had been staring for too long in thought because her fingers suddenly stopped as she shifted her head up slight from the monitor to my direction. I don't know why, but my eyes instinctively looked away to avoid any eye contact.
"Is there something you need, Manager?" She spoke a moment before the silence began to drag out. Her tone flat and in a businesslike fashion as always.
It scrapped the inside of my ears despite the distance I was from her. Putting my hands into the pockets of my lab coat, I subconsciously gripped the hard drive that laid within it as if it would provide me comfort. It was for naught since it only caused my hand to drip in sweat instead.
I don't know what it is about interacting with Angela that makes react this way, but if I were to be honest it was getting quite annoying. I haven't forgotten the words 'B' that spoke to me about, and although I can understand the possibilities of what he said, I couldn't bring myself to be convinced just yet.
Who was to say that this 'B' person could be trusted to begin with?
Who was to say that Angela could or couldn't be trusted?
Who was to say that anyone, let alone those two, had my best interests in mind?
No one, that's who. In the end, didn't it come down to me on whether said person was trustworthy or not? To judge their character was something I had to do for myself and myself alone. If I judge wrong then it will simply be a consequence that I must face.
For now, however, it was just a matter of knowing how much trust to place on them. Feeling my heart beat increase in rhythm, I forced my eyes back onto Angela's. Though it may sound rude, seeing those closed eyelids instead of her robotic gaze helped me calm my nerves.
Finding strength to calm my beating heart, I steeled my resolve and relaxed my fists. Gulping whatever saliva accumulated in my mouth, I opened my mouth to speak.
"Yes, in fact I do."
I wondered if she expected me to deny it because it took her a while before she fully turned in my direction in her chair. It made me wonder what circumstances would make her think so but I put it in the back of my mind as I noticed she was giving me her full attention.
"I was wondering if any file reports from the previous managers existed or not, and if possible, whether I could have a look at them in my spare time."
As the last part of my sentence left my lips, I subconsciously held my breathe awaiting for her answer. I knew it was a gamble. If I were to believe that Angela, an AI, could lie then it would've been optimal to use the program within the hard drive to catch her in the act. Unfortunately, I couldn't have possibly prepared it before hand without knowing if it worked, let alone knowing what questions I would even ask.
If Angela replies that 'yes' they indeed have records and I could access them then that would be that. Nothing to worry about and her trustworthiness would be solidified for now. If she says no, however, that such a thing doesn't exist then I wouldn't have no way of knowing if she were telling the truth or a lie.
I also wouldn't even be able to bring it up again in the future since in doing so would imply that I was skeptical of her answer and honesty. This would simply make the rift between us much more larger than it already is, something that I genuinely don't want to happen despite how I subconsciously react to her.
It is something that I am hoping to fix as soon as possible.
Perhaps that's why I found myself expectant on her reply. Deep down I know that I have no real reason to react the way I do when I'm around her. Even I can notice the oddity of being repulsed by a person I barely interacted with.
I thought that I simply had a grudge against robots or the like, but that wasn't the case when I felt no such things for any of the other Sephirot. Such feelings of disgust were only ever triggered by Angela and Angela alone. It wasn't natural nor was it reasonable, and yet it remained in my instincts to do so as if it were implanted in my very being.
"Khmm!"
Hearing the sound of someone clearing their throat immediately snapped me from my thoughts. Judging by the slight furrow of her brows, I realized that I was too immersed in my own thoughts to actually hear what Angela had said. I cursed myself for doing so before trying my best to give an apologetic look, even if she couldn't see it.
"I...I apologize, I didn't quite hear what you said, could you repeat that?"
If it were anyone else right now they might've voiced a complaint on being ignored, yet Angela simply nodded her head without a trace of anger. Leaving me to wonder whether or not she was annoyed with me.
"As I have said, there is indeed an archive located in the lower floors that houses information regarding your predecessors. As the manager, you have access to them with the exception of a few.
Angela's words left me dumbfounded for a moment as I began to process them. Her answer wasn't a 'no' but a 'yes', meaning that I didn't have to worry about any deception.
For now at least.
I also didn't miss that last part of her sentence regarding something about "exceptions". If even I, the Manager, didn't have permission to access those files then who did? From her words it sounds like the place where they are being held at is a physical place I could go to.
Would it be possible for me to visit such a place in the near future?
Food for thought, I suppose. Unless that was a li—no, I can't keep thinking such things. Those intrusive thoughts and doubts were what I was supposed to be wary of. Only causing me to be indecisive and skeptical, my relationship with Angela, quite possibly with everyone else too, wasn't making any progress because of this. Despite knowing that, the desire to change the status quo is far from what I am trying to make it to be.
'But it never hurts to try.'
A tiny voice, so small that I could've ignored it for the passing air in the vents, spoke in the back of my mind.
'To try a bit harder.'
Once again I heard it. This time, more clearly than the first. I should've been alarmed, confused at least, to be hearing such a thing. Yet, I instead drew a blank, couldn't even think of how to react to something like this.
'To try for a little while longer.'
Amidst my confusion I couldn't quite put a finger on it, but it sounded familiar to me. That familiarity alone was enough to force me to scour through my empty head to find out how I knew it.
'To try for a bit further.'
But no matter how deep I dug, I could only come up with nothing. Not a single thread of remembrance to grasp on and as quickly as the voice came, it left. Leaving me to ponder what exactly had happened to me.
One thing that I noticed, however, was that those thoughts that held me by the throat were far less overwhelming than earlier. As if their tyrannical hold over my conscious had lessened a tad bit.
The tapping of keys brought my attention to the fact that Angela had resumed her work. Probably thinking that I was satisfied with her previous answer, she most likely assumed that it was all I wanted from her.
It wasn't.
"Could I trouble you in bringing me a few copies to look at? Physical ones, would be most preferable."
My tone was noticeably different from just a few minutes ago. Rather than cold and distant, it was now a bit more soft and meek. If she noticed it, which is highly likely given how perceptive she's shown herself to be, she didn't show it.
"Of course, it will be ready for you by tomorrow. Though I will have to mention, if you desire to examine any of the earliest documents, it will require some time for me to sort through and organize them for you."
I nodded my head in response, even if I knew she wasn't looking, and prepared to leave for the night. My footsteps carried me to the door in a slow and mechanical way, if I were a machine I wouldn't doubt that my joints would be creaking. But I forced myself to stop.
There was one thing I wanted to do before leaving.
"Angela."
I called out to her as confidently as I could while looking over my shoulder. No reaction whatsoever. Regardless, I knew that I had to start somewhere and at the moment I was willing to at least take the first step now that I could.
"Just wanted to say good work today. Have a good night."
If I wasn't paying attention I would've missed the way she slightly tensed up. It wasn't the reaction that I expected, in fact I expected her to not react at all. Whether if it was for good or for bad, I didn't know. But at least it was something.
Though I couldn't help but cringe a bit at how I had said it.
Without bothering to wait for a response, I quickly made my way out of the room. I began to notice the slightly new oddity that I was feeling in my chest. It wasn't my heart thumping in joy nor was it the usual twist of disgust in my gut. It was as if someone was trying to tickle my stomach but instead of trying to make me laugh they wanted to watch me squirm.
Proceeding down the hall after putting some thought into it, the word seemingly popped into my head: embarrassed. A new feeling that I haven't felt before, that's why it was so difficult for me to recall it. Who could blame me though? I don't have much to go off of so of course this would be completely foreign to me.
Coming to the realization that I was simply embarrassed, I stopped in my tracks as I could feel the blood in my face heat up. Releasing a sigh I leaned my head on the metallic wall to cool it off. It didn't do much.
'Gah!! Out of all the things to worry about, why am I getting embarrassed from saying a simple good night?!'
After who knows how long.I went straight to my room for a night of rest.
Not before silently screaming into my pillow for a minute.....or two.
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