As they step into the sushi shop, a bell jingles softly above the door. The shop is small and cozy, with warm lighting casting a gentle glow over wooden tables. The smell of freshly prepared fish and rice fills the air, mingling with the faint notes of soy sauce and wasabi. Agent Hire pauses at the entrance, glancing down at Hansel and Gretel beside him. Both kids are silent, their expressions unreadable, and their eyes dart around the room, scanning for threats.
Hire heads to a corner booth, gesturing for the children to follow. As they slide into their seats, he hands them each a menu, though he knows they probably won't know what to choose. He takes a deep breath, wondering how to break the ice. He looks at the children, trying to read them, but their faces remain impassive.
Finally, Gretel breaks the silence, her voice almost a whisper. "I'll have whatever you get," she says, not looking up. Hansel nods in agreement, his gaze fixed firmly on the menu, though it's clear he isn't really reading it.
Hire nods, a slight smile forming on his lips. "Tuna and mayo rolls, then," he decides, signaling the waiter. He knows it's a simple choice, but it's his favorite, and it seems like a safe start.
Moments later, as they settle in, the door chimes again. A woman steps inside with a warm, familiar energy. Gwen Jestman, Hire's wife, with her bright eyes and kind smile, makes her way over to their table. She looks at Hire with a soft expression that immediately relaxes his tense shoulders.
"Hey, love," Gwen says, placing a hand on Hire's shoulder. "These must be the kids you mentioned." She glances at Hansel and Gretel with a gentle curiosity, her voice friendly and inviting.
Hire nods, "Yeah… Hansel and Gretel." He introduces them, his tone carrying a mix of concern and hope.
Gwen kneels down beside the table, making sure she's at the children's eye level. "Nice to meet you both," she says warmly. "I hope you like sushi. It's one of Hire's favorites." She grins, trying to ease the tension.
Hansel remains tight-lipped, his eyes flickering between Gwen and Hire. But Gretel gives a small nod, her expression softening just a bit.
The waiter arrives with their order, placing plates of tuna and mayo rolls in front of them. Gwen watches the children carefully, trying to gauge their reactions. "Go ahead, try it," she encourages. "It's really good."
Hire watches his wife interact with the kids, feeling a strange mixture of contentment and disbelief. For a moment, everything feels normal — almost too normal. Here they are, in a quiet sushi shop, with the woman he loves and two children who barely know what peace feels like. It's surreal, but in a good way.
Gretel takes a hesitant bite, and her eyes widen slightly. "It's… okay," she mumbles, almost to herself. Hansel, meanwhile, chews thoughtfully, still keeping his guard up but giving a slight, almost imperceptible nod of approval.
Hire chuckles softly. "See? Told you it's good," he says, leaning back a little, feeling a rare flicker of peace amid the chaos. Gwen gives him a knowing smile, and for that brief moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the four of them in the warm light of the sushi shop.
The loud bang from outside shattered the peaceful moment in the sushi shop, followed by the terrified screams of civilians. Hire sighed deeply, his body tensing up as he pushed his plate aside. He gave Gwen a weary look, the kind that silently said *"duty calls."*
"I've got business to attend to," he murmured, standing up from the table. Hansel and Gretel looked up at him, their expressions shifting from momentary calm to alertness, sensing the abrupt change in atmosphere.
Gwen, used to moments like these, gave a small nod of understanding. "Be careful," she said softly, watching him prepare to leave. But as she looked down, she noticed something on the table—a small piece of paper that hadn't been there before.
Hire frowned as he picked it up. The note was cryptic, written in a string of dots and dashes.
".. / -.-. .- -. / ... . . / -.-- --- ..- / -... . / -.-. .- .-. . ..-. ..- .-.. / .. / -.- -. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..-"
He muttered to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he realized what it was. "Morse code," he said, holding the paper closer.
He decoded the message in his head: **"I can see you. Be careful. I know you."**
Hire's eyes narrowed. "Must be from the NOC," he muttered, glancing outside. The street was in chaos, civilians running in every direction, and in the distance, something stirred, too large to be human.
"Get them to safety," Hire told Gwen, nodding toward Hansel and Gretel. He kissed her forehead quickly, his eyes softening for just a second before his professional demeanor returned.
As he stepped out of the sushi shop, his mind raced. The NOC rarely sent him messages like this, especially not in the middle of a mission. Whatever was happening, it was personal, and the cryptic warning made it clear that this wasn't just a typical anomaly.
His hand rested on his weapon, senses heightened as he moved through the panicked crowd. The city outside was still under siege, and whatever was waiting for him out there was ready to strike.
As Hire stepped out of the sushi shop, he heard an unsettling voice behind him—chaotic yet eerily calm. It pierced through the sounds of panic and chaos around him like nails on a chalkboard.
"Heyya, kid. Know where I can find Mr. Hire?"
The voice sent a chill down his spine. It was human enough to recognize, but there was something off—something too controlled, too casual in the middle of a war zone. Hire turned slowly, his eyes scanning the area for the source.
There, in the midst of fleeing civilians, stood a man dressed like he was out for a casual walk. His smile was wide, unnervingly wide, and his eyes had a gleam that screamed danger. He looked completely out of place, like he belonged more in a dream than in reality.
Hire's hand moved instinctively toward his weapon, his other hand flickering with the faint glow of cognitive stream energy ready to be unleashed. He didn't respond immediately, assessing the stranger carefully.
"Who wants to know?" Hire asked, his voice low and controlled, but ready for anything.
The man laughed, a sound that felt like nails being driven into Hire's skull. "Oh, no one important. Just someone who's got a little business with you. Maybe you've heard of me? They call me The Fool."
Hire's eyes narrowed. **The Fool.** The name itself sent a ripple of recognition through him, a name whispered among NOC agents but never fully explained. This was no ordinary encounter.
"I've heard stories," Hire replied, every muscle in his body on edge. "Not the kind of person I'd expect to just ask around politely."
The Fool's grin somehow widened, impossibly. "Well, I like to make an entrance. After all, it's not every day we get to meet, is it?"
With a sudden shift in the air, the civilians around them seemed to slow, as if time itself was bending to The Fool's will. Reality itself felt distorted, the edges of the world warping as The Fool's presence grew heavier.
"You're in my way, Hire. But no hard feelings—yet," The Fool said, tilting his head. "Step aside, or I'll just take what I came for."
Hire didn't flinch. He squared his stance, his aura flaring with purple light as he prepared to unleash his cognitive stream. "You're not taking anything today," he growled, eyes locked on The Fool.
The tension between them hung thick in the air. Whatever was coming next, it wouldn't be easy.