As the dust settled from the intense battle, the rumble of helicopters echoed through the snowy landscape. The rotors sliced through the cold air, and soon, several military choppers appeared overhead, descending with precision. Armed soldiers in full tactical gear began to rappel down, their guns trained on Agent Hire and the two children at his side. The insignia on their uniforms marked them as a specialized task force—elite, but nowhere near the level of someone like Hire.
The soldiers formed a perimeter, their eyes locked on the agent. The leader of the task force, a stern-faced man with a commanding presence, stepped forward, his voice amplified by a megaphone. "Agent Hire! Hand over the children immediately. This is a direct order."
Hire, still kneeling from the exhaustion of his previous battle, slowly rose to his feet. His mismatched eyes, one blue and one red, glowed faintly as he assessed the situation. He could sense the tension in the air, the fear radiating from the soldiers. They knew who he was—Agent Hire, a High Void Level officer. In the hierarchy of the N.O.C., that made him one of the most powerful agents, surpassed only by the classified ranks above Void. These soldiers were Obsidian level at best, and they knew it.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Hire responded calmly, his voice carrying a weight of authority that made the soldiers flinch. "These children are under my protection now. If you want them, you'll have to go through me."
The task force leader hesitated, his hand tightening on his weapon. He knew the protocol, knew what it meant to go against a High Void officer. Their combined strength was formidable, but against Hire, it was a suicide mission. The other soldiers shifted nervously, their fingers hovering over the triggers of their rifles. They were trained, experienced, but the stories of Hire's capabilities had reached even them.
"Stand down," Hire warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't want to do this."
The leader exchanged a glance with his second-in-command, who shook his head almost imperceptibly. They were soldiers, not fools. They had heard of what happened to those who underestimated someone of Hire's caliber. The N.O.C. hierarchy existed for a reason, and those who defied it rarely lived to tell the tale.
Still, they had orders.
"We have our directives, Agent Hire," the leader said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But... we're not looking to die today. We'll report this up the chain. But if you defy direct orders—"
"Then I'll deal with the consequences," Hire interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "But these kids are coming with me."
The task force leader sighed, lowering his weapon slightly, signaling for his men to do the same. "Understood, sir. We'll withdraw."
The helicopters lifted off, the soldiers retreating back into the sky, leaving Hire alone with the children. The threat of confrontation had passed, but Hire knew that this was only a temporary reprieve. The N.O.C. would not let this slide easily. Higher-ups would be watching his every move now, waiting for him to slip up.
As the choppers faded into the distance, Hansel and Gretel looked up at Hire, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and admiration. To them, Hire was a savior, a protector who had risked everything to keep them safe.
"Stay close," Hire said quietly, his voice softer now that the immediate danger had passed. "We're not out of the woods yet."
He led the children away from the ruins of the facility, his mind already racing with plans and contingencies. He knew that his refusal to comply with the task force would have repercussions. But for now, his priority was keeping the children safe and finding out who was behind these illegal experiments. The game had just escalated, and Hire was more than ready to face whatever came next.
Hire's head was spinning with fragmented memories, pieces of a life he couldn't fully grasp. The name "N.O.C. 0000" haunted his thoughts—a designation associated with an entity called "The Fool." The Fool had told him once, with a chilling calmness, that Hire had struck a deal and, as a result, murdered his entire family. But Hire's mind was in disarray, and he couldn't recall any such event. He shook his head, trying to focus on the present, on the two children beside him.
According to the illegal experimentation files he had retrieved, the boy was labeled Test Subject 0202—"Hansel"—and the girl was Test Subject 0010—"Gretel." Despite Gretel appearing two or three years older than Hansel, it was Hansel who behaved like the adult, fiercely protective, with a hostility that bordered on feral. Gretel, in contrast, was quiet, docile, almost unnervingly so, her eyes blank and distant.
Suddenly, a golden aura enveloped them, and the cold, bleak landscape of Moscow dissolved around them. They were instantly transported to the N.O.C. Director's office—a place Hire knew well, but it still felt like an intrusion. The sensation of teleportation left him disoriented, but only for a moment.
Director Gideon, the head of the N.O.C., sat behind a large mahogany desk, casually sipping from a cup of coffee. He was an imposing figure, not just in stature but in presence—a true god, though one with limits. He regarded Hire with a mixture of amusement and intrigue, his eyes gleaming with some hidden understanding. Without looking up from his coffee, he spoke, his voice rich with a calm, almost patronizing tone.
"You can keep the kids," Gideon said, setting the cup down gently. "Hell, I'll even pay you extra."
Hire raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "What's the catch?"
Gideon smiled, leaning back in his chair. "No catch, Agent Hire. Consider it a bonus for... services rendered." He glanced at the children, his gaze lingering on them with a knowing look. "Besides, the N.O.C. has plenty of projects. These two don't need to be another experiment."
Hansel stepped forward, his body tense, ready to strike at the first sign of danger. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice fierce for someone so young. "What do you want with us?"
Gideon chuckled. "You've got spirit, kid. I like that. But relax, no one's going to hurt you here. At least, not while you're under Hire's protection."
Gretel remained silent, her gaze fixated on the floor, her aura still radiating a quiet power that felt almost otherworldly. Hire couldn't help but feel a strange connection to these children, an inexplicable urge to shield them from whatever darkness lay ahead. Something in their eyes reminded him of himself, of the fragments of a past he barely remembered.
Hire narrowed his eyes at Gideon. "Why are you so generous all of a sudden?"
Gideon's smile widened, but his eyes were cold. "Let's just say... I have my reasons. But trust me, Hire, keeping them close will be in your best interest. And perhaps... they might even help you remember."
Remember? That word stung, echoing in Hire's mind like a distant bell. He knew better than to trust Gideon, a being who thrived on manipulation and unseen motives. Yet, the Director's words held a strange truth. There were gaps in his memory, pieces that didn't fit. Maybe these children were the key to unlocking what had been taken from him.
"Fine," Hire said finally, his voice steady. "I'll keep them safe."
Gideon nodded approvingly. "Good. I knew I could count on you." He picked up his coffee again, the steam curling around his face. "Just remember, Agent Hire... in this game, everyone has a role to play."
Hire didn't respond. He turned his attention back to Hansel and Gretel, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. The children were more than they appeared, he was sure of it. And whatever game Gideon and The Fool were playing, Hire intended to find out.
Hire was already on edge, his mind racing with thoughts of The Fool, the erased memories, and the strange, ominous undertones of the Director's words. He turned to leave, hoping to get the children away from this place as quickly as possible, but Gideon's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Also, Agent Hire," the Director continued, his tone suddenly more whimsical, "reality is an illusion. The world is a dream. Buy gold... buy gold."
Hire blinked, utterly baffled. He turned back to face the Director, trying to make sense of the words. "What are you talking about?"
Gideon's expression remained playful, almost mischievous, as if he were enjoying some private joke. Hansel, too, looked confused, his brow furrowed as he glanced between Hire and the Director. "What does that even mean?" Hansel demanded, frustration creeping into his voice.
Gideon just smiled wider, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and something more inscrutable. "It means, my dear Agent Hire, that not everything is as it seems. The world you know, the rules you follow, they're all part of a grander scheme. A game, if you will. And you, well... you're just a player."
Hire's confusion deepened, and for a moment, he felt a strange sense of vertigo, like the floor beneath him was shifting. The Director's words had the eerie quality of a riddle or a prophecy, something meant to unsettle rather than explain. "You're messing with me," Hire muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.
Gideon chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm giving you a hint. After all, every game needs a bit of chaos, doesn't it?"
Hire clenched his fists, feeling frustration bubble up inside him. "Enough with the cryptic nonsense," he snapped. "If this is all some kind of twisted joke, I'm not laughing."
The Director shrugged, unbothered by Hire's anger. "Call it what you like, but remember: every choice you make, every path you take... it all leads somewhere. Even in a dream."
With that, Gideon turned his attention back to his coffee, as if dismissing Hire entirely. The room felt colder, the air heavier with the weight of unsaid things. Hansel glanced up at Hire, his young face shadowed with doubt. "What did he mean by that?" Hansel asked quietly.
Hire shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion that Gideon's words had stirred up. "I don't know," he replied honestly, "but whatever game he's talking about, we're not going to play by his rules."
Gretel, still silent, seemed to look right through the Director, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding far beyond her years. She took a step closer to Hansel, instinctively seeking his protection.
Hire finally turned to leave, this time without hesitation. But the Director's last words lingered in the air like a haunting refrain, echoing in Hire's mind: "Reality is an illusion... the world is a dream... buy gold..."
He pushed the thought away, focused on what he could control—the safety of these children, and the path ahead. Whatever this game was, whatever illusions or tricks lay in wait, Hire was determined to cut through them and find the truth, no matter the cost.
As Hire turned to leave with Hansel and Gretel, a sudden, ear-splitting roar shattered the tense silence of the office. The ground trembled violently, and the air seemed to thicken with a malevolent presence. From the shadows behind the Director's desk, a monstrous form began to materialize — a swirling mass of black smoke and crimson eyes, writhing like a storm of darkness. It was an entity known only as "The Devourer."
The Devourer surged forward, its obsidian-like skin reflecting an eerie, otherworldly glow. Its maw opened wide, revealing countless rows of razor-sharp teeth that seemed to stretch into infinity. Tentacle-like appendages lashed out from its body, whipping through the air with a deafening crack. An oppressive aura emanated from the creature, filling the room with a crushing sense of dread. It was an Obsidian-level threat, a being of pure destruction.
Gideon, still sipping his coffee with maddening calm, simply watched as if he were witnessing a mundane event. "Ah, seems like we have an uninvited guest," he mused, not bothering to move from his chair.
Without a second thought, Hire sprang into action. "Hansel, Gretel, get back!" he shouted, pushing the children behind him. His expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with fierce determination. He raised his hand, and his aura flared to life, a brilliant purple that seemed to slice through the darkness.
"Cognitive Stream: Monopolization Overload!" Hire chanted, his voice echoing with raw power.
His body became enveloped in a torrent of energy. A surge of psychic force poured out of him, twisting the air around him, and the room seemed to warp under the strain of his unleashed power. The Devourer lunged forward, its maw opening wide, but Hire was faster. He raised his hand, and with a single focused thought, he drove the full force of his Cognitive Stream straight into the creature's core.
The purple energy cut through the Devourer like a hot knife through butter, instantly vaporizing its form. The creature let out a final, agonizing shriek that reverberated throughout the office, shaking the walls and causing papers and books to fly off the shelves. For a moment, the Devourer writhed and contorted, as if resisting its inevitable end, but then it disintegrated into nothingness, leaving behind only a fading wisp of dark smoke.
The room fell silent once more, the oppressive aura gone, replaced by a sense of uneasy calm. Hire stood there, panting slightly, his hand still raised, his eyes glowing with the remnants of his power. He looked back at the children, who were staring wide-eyed, both impressed and terrified by the sheer force he had displayed.
Gideon chuckled, his gaze still fixed on Hire. "Efficient as always, Agent Hire," he said, setting his coffee cup down. "But you should know by now, the game never ends... not really."
Hire lowered his hand, the energy around him dissipating, but his guard remained up. "If this is your idea of a game, Director, I'm not playing," he said coldly.
Gideon simply smiled. "Oh, but you are, whether you realize it or not."
Ignoring the Director's cryptic remark, Hire turned to the children. "Let's get out of here," he said firmly, leading them toward the exit.
As they made their way out of the office, Hansel couldn't help but glance back at the Director, who sat there with a knowing grin. The words from earlier still echoed in his mind: *Reality is an illusion... the world is a dream...*
Whatever the game was, whatever the Director was hinting at, Hire knew one thing for certain — he wasn't about to let anyone play with the lives of these children. Not the Director, not The Fool, and certainly not any of the monsters lurking in the shadows.