January 10, 2028: Monday, I remember waking to such intolerable frigidness but when I walked out my room─Echo and the others were prepared to tread the dominion of excellence. I prepared them breakfast, worried for them on their way out, and sat in on their first course of discussion. Tension hadn't left the whole day and when they got home… Only three remained unscathed.
All of us, the characters in this tale, didn't take kind consideration of the given day.
Since I exiled myself though, I realized how monumental it was: I'd firmly believe I'm the only person who's distorted about the whole ordeal.
I mean, someone was subjected to their deathbed.
And yet, I'd happily smile at the misfortune as it linked the bridge of an eventful life in the underworld.
Before our pessimistic Jericho Atwood could check the integrity of the item, the door he did his hardest to crack opened in ease. Four overpowering presence shadowed the light: the researcher in charge of the room, two students, and an intimidating police officer. All of which displayed significant Spirit Cores, Echo couldn't help but shiver in secret.
He had too, or else, the domino would fall to the others.
First drop of a dangerous situation, and it was already unpleasant.
Especially from the professor.
He wore eyeglasses and donned a lab coat, eyes dead in the sickening plight of his research. I would call him tired. Unable to carry himself over the pantheon of frightening evil─but he carried two defining forces.
His devilish grin and the string of mana purporting from his fingers spelled an infinitely disturbing terror.
Here's the deal: the Rosewood Lock, once tampered, undergoes frenzy to anyone who dares to get close.
Therefore, it cannot be tamed in such a short moment.
How much time did they spend searching for Relic Piece No. 0068?
While unable to calculate, they couldn't have been there for two minutes.
Echo theorized the professor must have mimicked the same lockpicking technique he used.
There were the strings and all.
He learned the skill somewhere… Which drove their world closer as soon as they met.
Talk about an early hint to foreshadow.
More importantly.
"Hey, why is there a recon already?" No one truly spoke of the line, but I swear that should be their connected consensus.
"So the report was true!" Professor howled his regards, cracking his enhanced knuckles. "Someone has come for the relic. Ha-ha! No matter how commendable you've hacked Rosewood, you're all trapped now."
Echo couldn't help but tilt his head.
He didn't answer, though.
Now, the situation doesn't take more than one second to read.
One spark of realization chained to another, they were sabotaged somehow by a yet unknown source. Pretty sure it would be their source of information, but let's relinquish the damningly fast foreshadowing─the second time now─and keep them unable to grasp the said double crosser's infidelity.
No, seriously, the distant truth flew over Echo's head.
Sure, the situation turned for the worst─they didn't expect reconnaissance
Echo wasn't an idiot.
"Grant!" Rapidly initiating his synapses, he commanded by a single call of name. "Cause a distraction."
Readily, the one named Grant among the three assisting thieves, channeled her mana onto herself. Quickness is their key to the issue, lagging behind each and every word is unforgivable. Chaining that desire to its rightful designation, the person disappeared out of sight.
Already at the end of the line, to everyone's surprise, passing right out the door's upper opening. This person isn't strong or anything else: they're only capable of chain confusion. Sudden emergence─and spontaneous escape─intriguing their minds, they couldn't take a second of time to think it was a misdirection.
Chuck Hewitt, the rambunctious Sorcerer of explosions and destruction, chained his sorcery right after Grant left the room. Behind him was Leona Spielberg, another Sorcerer capable of magic acceleration, boosting his cast for maximum firepower. Definitely a shift from being careful to destroying anything and everything… Which Echo relatively judged the professor would have done otherwise.
What's wrong with reading the atmosphere?
Professor was foolhardy, it didn't take him another split second to turn his head back.
But that's enough time for firepower to accumulate, and blow them out of the room.
Ruckus would be created, but that can't be the newest concept in their wartorn situation.
They've achieved their goal: Boom─!
Soullessly decisive strike breaking their opponents out of formation, leaving them a fiery path. Echo and the others ran through the now unbarricaded doorway: Grant, already outside the room, sought for their escape in its most daring form, feet ready to jump from the tenth floor.
Due to the nature of the explosion, another opening was given to them.
Maybe it wasn't intentional and out of plan, but they're exposed to parkour and Sorcery that they're all basically daredevils. Hewitt in tow, they should be able to reduce their drag by conjuring an explosion to the ground by the last second. All hopes were expended to that straightforward plan.
Hands linked to one another, they leaped off to the challenge─altogether outsmarting their unassuming villains.
Once down, they ran off.
Why was their arrival the disadvantage in the first place?
They only arrived earlier than expected.
That's all, and it's nothing compared to the harsh lives they led running from and outrunning both the sincere and the corrupted.
They're not as smart as they thought they'd be… Sigh, maybe so, but this was only Jericho Atwood's read on the situation.
He might be wrong by a margin or worse, by a mile.
While all of the syndicated shenanigan happened, Seance Miller put all his synapses on what formalwear would look good for his style.
He asked the same attending clerk, unbeknownst to him, was the store's owner.
Whom of which tilted his head, and examined Miller from head and toe only to be confused.
Spoken out of his passionate role as Greenwich Village's resident fashionista, he only complimented him, "Whatever you wear sir, you'd look exquisite!"