"Do you really think we can do this?" one of the six officers suddenly said as colour drained from his face. His handgun nearly slipped from his grip. "I think we're way in over our heads."
"Don't start! We need to keep it together. We know the layout of this bank better than those criminals. We managed to avoid getting spotted by them so far, which should already tell you we have an advantage. So, relax!" another barked.
A series of audible gulps sounded.
Six police officers, the last of one hundred and nineteen who had been stationed in the Bloomburg Austerity Bank as its primary security, had managed to keep themselves from getting killed after a group of five incredibly powerful Utility Users suddenly raided the bank.
At first, because of how secure the great bank was, no one had been particularly alarmed.
Bloomburg Austerity had a plethora of digital security measures, manual and automatic.
The first series of such locked down all the Utility-proof vaults in the establishment, and encrypted them with coding that would take no less than three days to decrypt even for the staff in the bank. There was also a building-wide lockdown sequence which would be triggered, shutting off all chances for invaders to get to higher floors from the ground floor using advanced lasers and Utility-proof doors.
Of course, the National Bureau of Defence's Anti-Abberant weapon system was also installed and distributed. Drones and mechanical attachments embedded on the ceiling, walls and floors, and supported by advanced, military grade artificial intelligence would identify hostiles and shoot them down.
This was all capped off by the fact that nineteen Level 2 and Level 3 Utility Users were also in charge of higher security within the bank.
However, even with all of this, the band known as Half Side had taken control of Bloomburg Austerity within a quarter of an hour. All security systems had been taken over, the security personnel killed.
All that remained were these six police officers. They had hidden in one of the rooms on the second floor, hoping the situation would change, but despite the commotion evident outside, there were yet to be any attempts to raid the building by the Bureau.
As a broken security camera in the room the six officers were swayed in the corner, one of them took a deep breath and said:
"If we do go out there and try to beat these guys" – the man received skeptical looks – "I mean, save the people on the first floor, what guarantee do we have that we aren't being monitored? These bastards have someone who's very good with tech and all. We might have destroyed the cameras leading into this side of the second floor, but… everything seems to be under their control now. For all we know, we could be shot down by the bank's drones!"
This did not inspire more bravery in the men. One of them slumped to the floor with his face hidden in his hands.
To become an officer of the law, one only needed to have decent Fint manipulation and not something as advanced as a Utility. It went without saying the six men only had a capacity for the former and nothing more, which was why they were so terrified.
"I doubt these guys really care about us. They are looking for something specific. We could use that to our advantage. All we have to do is get to the first floor and save the people there. I don't think the criminals are bunched up there. They probably don't need more than two of them to keep watch. With the Anti-Abberant rounds we have, we could take care of an off-guard Utility User or two, right?"
"No!" one of the six protested vehemently. "Even if we, by some fat-assed miracle - somehow beat two Utility Users, how are we supposed to escape with the civilians? Have you forgotten already? Before the network cut off, we watched the news coverage. One of these people has set Restrictions on the building! Everyone who tries to leave is immediately trapped in a coffin or something! How are supposed to deal with that?"
Suddenly, there was silence.
Indeed, that was true. Only two hours after the incident began yesterday, the six had been watching the live coverage of the news. They saw it in real time. Some of the civilians in the building who attempted to leave – as staggeringly, the front doors to the Bloomburg Austerity Bank building were not locked – were immediately trapped in large, black, archaic coffins. The same happened to anyone who approached from the outside, it seemed.
It didn't seem like anyone knew how to circumvent this.
Five minutes of complete silence persisted.
"Alright. I'll go check out the situation. Maybe the status quo has changed and we have more options than we think," the officer who had been keen to act said as he did a full check on his handgun and walked to the door.
The others didn't feel reassured.
"What if you're captured? Then we're all screwed," one of them said.
The brave police officer scoffed as he opened the door.
"I'd rather die than squeal. Same when it comes to sitting on my hands while undefended civilians are being held hostage," he said and walked out, leaving his fellow law enforcers feeling pangs of guilt.
Because the building had two luxurious stairwells on both ends of its interior – in addition to a series of advanced elevators, of course – the police officer was sure he at least had a fifty-fifty chance to not run into any of the criminals. Also, because one of the bastards had deactivated the lockdown sequence, he was free to reach the first floor without any problems.
The officer manoeuvred silently and carefully before reaching a space a few meters from the lobby where hundreds of civilians were detained as a large crowd smack dab in the centre of it. He hid behind a wall and peeked.
He was surprised by how silent it was despite being crowded. Only a faint whimper or the occasional sniffle could be heard, but for the most part, wealthy blokes, rich lasses, men and women, some with their children, were sitting or standing wherever they could with horrified looks on their ashen faces. No one protested. No one even made an attempt to get comfortable on the luxurious seats the bank offered.
Even the tens of tellers, hidden away behind powerful, Anti-Abberant glass cases expressed the same terror despite being relatively safe.
The officer was perturbed.
Just what had happened to these people?
A few short glances thrown towards the same direction by the hostages urged him to turn his eyes, and he saw what looked like a short, lank teenage girl in her rebellious, goth phase – long, black hair; black eyeliner; black eye shadow; black lipstick; long, black ample-sleeved cardigan; black mini-skirt; black, spiky leather boots – making hateful sweeps at the crowd with her tiny, purple eyes.
The officer shivered.
There was something about that girl.
She looked more than just a mean teenager.
There was another odd figure monitoring the crowd, but the officer didn't manage to get a good look because the elevator at the end of the lobby suddenly chimed and someone walked out, side profile first.
It was a man adorning a light blue denim jacket, blue denim jeans, loafers and oddly enough, a purple fedora over his head.
The strangest thing about this man wasn't his odd fashion sense, however. It was his face.
The side of the man's face – the only one he allowed the hostages to see because he walked like a crab towards them – looked as though it had been exposed to acid. It was shrivelled, white and ugly, the only nice thing about it being the beautiful silvery eye exposed from a sunken eye socket.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Half," Half said, stopped moving towards the crowd, tipped his fedora, and continued moving in an odd, crab-like manner around the hostages.
He reached the goth girl and received a mean glare that made him chuckle awkwardly.
"I apologise for leaving you with my sweet sadist. It was a necessary precaution, I'm afraid. Her name is Crucci Yow. Lovely little thing" – he patted Crucci on the head and moved on – "Allow me also to apologise for taking so long to come and introduce myself. I was quite afraid of dividing my attention from the task at hand. I had hopes to split the time on our 'transaction', but oh well…"
The officer hiding a distance away frowned.
'Half? Crucci Yow?' he thought, wondering what kind of names these were. He also couldn't stop looking at Half's deformed face.
Why was that man moving like that? He nearly looked like a two-dimensional object from the right angle.
Half, seeing the distressed looks on the people's faces stopped and pouted.
"You can cheer up. We mean you no harm. Oh, is it my ugly side?" he said, pointing at the side of his face. "It's not so bad. But of course, if you insist on seeing my handsome side instead, I would be glad to show it to you."
Everyone grew tense. The hidden officer moreso.
Half scanned the trembling crowd and crouched down, his eye staring straight at a small girl half hidden in her mother's embrace.
"Hey, little girl. Why don't you come over here? Come on. Tell mommy to let you go, or I'll make her cry," he said politely.
There was a bit of resistance, but in the end, the little girl, after sending a terrified glance at Crucci Yow, walked towards Half. The man smiled and held her little hand.
"Wanna hear a joke?" Half said. "I swear, it'll be funny."