The two metal doors slid apart with a mechanical whirr as Ivan entered the room. The sterile glow of fluorescent lights greeted him, casting harsh shadows across the occupants already seated at the large, circular table. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, the kind of pressure that made every move feel calculated, every glance meaningful.
As Ivan stepped inside, his eyes swept the room, assessing the people present. He first noticed Fana, the quiet and withdrawn girl whose powers to control phantoms had made her both an asset and a mystery. She sat slumped over the table, her small frame nearly swallowed by the oversized chair, her head resting on her folded arms as she slept, oblivious to the tension around her.
Next was Larry Wade, the agent whose recent demonstration of his abilities in the ruins had left an impression on everyone. His lean frame was relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, his legs crossed casually, and his fingers swiped idly across the screen of his phone. When he noticed Ivan, he gave a lazy wave, his expression unreadable but somehow welcoming, like a comrade greeting an old friend after years apart.
Across from them was Miss Sonar, Agent Duan, sitting with impeccable posture, her back rigid and her hands folded neatly in her lap. She seemed like a student awaiting a lecture, every muscle in her body poised as if she might leap into action at any moment. Her pale face was focused, her sharp eyes occasionally flicking toward the front of the room.
At the head of the table sat two individuals—Commander Ross, the authoritative and ever-serious leader of the Ninth Special Service Division, and the infamous Professor Miyazaki, whose genius was matched only by his disregard for typical social norms.
The automatic doors closed behind Ivan, sealing the room with a soft hiss. He walked further inside, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpeting. His eyes shifted toward Commander Ross, whose piercing gaze was already locked on him.
"Please, take a seat, Agent Petrov," Commander Ross said, his voice steady, almost clinical.
Ivan complied, settling into an empty chair near the middle of the room. As he sat, he could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, a gnawing sense of anticipation building in his gut. Something significant was about to happen.
As he scanned the faces around the room again, he noted the variety of expressions. Larry still seemed completely at ease, almost detached from the gravity of the situation, while Miss Sonar appeared to be bracing herself for some monumental revelation. Fana, meanwhile, remained oblivious, her soft breathing the only sound she contributed to the tension-filled room.
"It seems everyone is here," Commander Ross began, his voice breaking the silence that had settled like a heavy blanket over the room. "As some of you may have heard, today's meeting is not an ordinary briefing. What we are about to discuss concerns a proposal—one that could change the future of the Ninth Special Service Division and, perhaps, the entire direction of our operations."
His gaze swept across the room, pausing for a moment on each person, as if to underscore the seriousness of his words. "This proposal was brought forward by Professor Miyazaki, and until now, only he and I were aware of its full scope."
At this, all eyes turned to Professor Miyazaki, who seemed more preoccupied with his tablet than with the room full of agents waiting for him to speak. He was slouched in his chair, tapping away at the screen with an absentmindedness that belied the gravity of the situation.
When Commander Ross gestured for him to take over, Miyazaki finally looked up, though it was clear he wasn't particularly thrilled about explaining his ideas. With a sigh, he stood, his lanky figure looking oddly out of place in the sharp, high-tech setting of the conference room.
"Alright, alright... let's get to the point," Miyazaki muttered, scratching the back of his head before reluctantly addressing the room. "You all know how difficult things have gotten lately. The appearance of Phantoms has thrown everything we thought we knew about infection control and supernatural threats into chaos. Our existing strategies... they just aren't cutting it anymore."
At this, Fana stirred, her eyes blinking open as she woke from her nap. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, her expression groggy and innocent in contrast to the tension in the room.
"The Phantoms are something else," Miyazaki continued. "They're not just an evolution of the infected—they're something entirely new. Something we humans have conjured up, but which now far surpasses us. You've all experienced it in the field—Phantoms are faster, stronger, and far more dangerous than anything we've dealt with before. They're unpredictable."
He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on each agent for a moment before continuing. "The usual response teams, while capable, just aren't equipped to handle this new kind of threat. That's why I've proposed the creation of a specialized task force—a group made up of only the most capable agents, those with unique abilities who can handle threats that ordinary teams simply cannot."
Miyazaki reached for the remote, pressing a button that activated the large display screen behind him. A document appeared on the screen, the title in bold letters: Ultimate Power.
Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Ultimate Power?" he muttered under his breath. "Couldn't they come up with something less... generic?"
Ignoring the remark, Commander Ross took over. "This task force would be our sharpest edge, a unit composed of agents who not only excel in combat but also possess special abilities that make them invaluable in the field. The Phantoms, the growing supernatural threats—we need a response team that can meet them head-on."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle on the room. "Each of you has been handpicked by Professor Miyazaki because of your unique talents. But participation in this program is voluntary. No one will be forced to join. If you feel this isn't for you, now is the time to say so."
Silence filled the room once more. The weight of the decision they were being asked to make was palpable.
Finally, Miss Sonar was the first to speak, her voice soft but steady. "I... I'm not sure I'm cut out for something like this," she admitted, her brow furrowing. "I have some abilities, sure, but I've never considered myself... special. Not like the others."
Miyazaki smiled kindly. "Your abilities are more valuable than you realize, Agent Duan. You've barely scratched the surface of what you're capable of. Trust me when I say, you belong in this program. The question is whether you want to be."
She hesitated, her gaze flicking between Miyazaki and Commander Ross, who nodded in silent encouragement. "I'll... need time to think about it," she said finally.
"Go back. Discuss." Fana's quiet voice chimed in, her words simple but clear. The young girl was clearly indicating that she would need to consult with her mother before making a decision. It was no surprise—Fana had always been close to her mother and trusted her opinion above all else.
"It sounds like a good plan," Larry Wade said nonchalantly, breaking the tension with his laid-back demeanor. "I'm in."
The ease with which he made his decision took Ivan by surprise. He had expected Larry to be more reluctant, given his independent nature. But perhaps there was more to Larry than met the eye.
Commander Ross nodded, satisfied with Larry's quick decision. His gaze then turned to Ivan, the last holdout.
"And you, Agent Petrov? What do you think?"
Ivan shifted in his seat, his mind racing. He hadn't expected to be put on the spot so quickly. The proposal was intriguing, no doubt—but there was a part of him that hesitated, a part that questioned whether this was truly the right path.
---
After the meeting ended, and Ivan returned to his residence, the weight of the day's events hung heavily on him. He stripped off his clothes, letting the hot water of the shower cascade over him, trying to wash away the tension that had built up throughout the day. But even the scalding water couldn't dissolve the lingering uncertainty.
The idea of joining Professor Miyazaki's special task force weighed on him. It wasn't just the fear of the unknown, nor the risk of failure—it was the nagging doubts about the organization itself. Trust was in short supply.
Even the rumors swirling around the high-ranking officials of the division—the whispers of insider corruption and rogue agents—had left Ivan questioning everything he thought he knew about the people he worked for.
And then there was Siegel, the enigmatic figure from the Grove Group, who had left Ivan with a one-time communication device. It was meant to be used only if Ivan ever found something within the Ninth Division that made him question their integrity. The mere existence of that device was enough to plant seeds of doubt in his mind.
As he lay in bed that night, his body heavy with exhaustion, Ivan's mind raced. Sleep came slowly, and when it finally did, his dreams were filled with faces from his past—Old Brook, always lounging with a cigarette, Melanie Chase, her passionate speeches about changing the world. They were gone now, but their words lingered, echoes of a past that still shaped his present.
And then, from the depths of his dreams, a new figure emerged—a figure cloaked in black, with a bat-like silhouette. Batman. His presence brought a strange sense of calm, an inexplicable trust.
But that peace was shattered when Ivan woke up to the harsh reality of cold metal pressed against his face—the black muzzles of several guns, all aimed directly at him.