"Your mission is simple," Ganymede said, her voice calm but carrying the weight of command. "Find RS-07 and bring it back alive. Lethal force is authorized only if it escalates to a Category Four threat or higher."
The hum of the overhead lights seemed louder for a moment.
Deputy Haturii gave a grim nod, the muscles in his jaw flexing. "That won't be easy. We'll need advanced capture units and fourth-gen suppression gear. At minimum."
From the edge of the room, a tall, gaunt man stepped forward, his shadow long against the polished steel wall. Dr. Stane looked like a horror movie villain who'd wandered out of his lab and never found the exit. His white coat bore the crimson insignia of the ARGUS Department of Biocryptic Studies. In his hands: a thick black dossier marked with an obsidian triangle. THE ARGUS HIGH THREAT CLASSIFICATION.
"These are RS-07'S containment files," he said, his voice dry like paper. "Codename: Penumbra. Study them with extreme scrutiny. All known data, however limited, is contained herein be it behavioral tendencies, migration patterns, anomalous surges, and its prior breach logs."
Haturii opened the folder. Half the pages looked like someone had rage-quit a red marker across them.
The room dimmed as a large wall screen blinked to life, bathing the space in cold, aquatic blue. Shadows deepened, stretching along the floor. Strange, deep-sea creatures drifted across the display. Chimeric predators from the abyss.
"Nature deceives," Ganymede began, her voice steady but edged with something older than caution. "It lies, coils, and waits. In fact, there are many creatures in the wild that go to great lengths to deceive, disguising themselves as something entirely non-threatening or even enticing to lure unsuspecting prey, targets, or hosts without detection. This phenomenon is known as aggressive mimicry, where predators or be it parasites adopt the appearance of harmless entities, or even attractive mates, while harboring predatory intentions. Regardless of their guise, they are wolves in sheep's clothing.
She paced slowly in front of the display, each step deliberate. "Take the anglerfish in the depths of the ocean, for instance, dangling a seductive light to lure unsuspecting fish into its waiting jaws. Similarly, the alligator snapping turtle wiggles its worm-like tongue to attract hungry fish. Fortunately, humans are far more discerning than aquatic life. We remain safe from such trickery. No creature has ever evolved to resemble something familiar, something everyday, just to ensnare unsuspecting people into their grasp..."
She paused. The silence pressed in.
"At least... that was what we thought."
Her fingertip tapped a control. The image morphed into a bizarre, almost cartoonish rendering of RS-07. It looked absurd. Harmless. Something that belonged on a child's plush toy shelf, not a classified screen. And yet, the longer one stared, the more it seemed… wrong. Its smile was too still. Its proportions a shade off. Something about it whispered come closer in a voice the brain wanted to obey.
"Don't let the form fool you. RS-07 is no mere biological curiosity. Its design is intentional. It mimics vulnerability to invite proximity. Victims often describe it as 'familiar' or 'comforting,' moments before it tears through reinforced steel and bone."
Dr. Stane's shadow stretched forward as he stepped up again. "RS-07 is not simply a threat. It's a paradox. Evidence suggests sapience — the ability to learn, to strategize. Its preliminary classification is shifting. It may no longer be a Biocryptic Entity, but a possible Systemic Wraith-Class anomaly."
Ganymede's tone darkened. "Which means we're dealing with more than a creature. We're facing a Pattern Entity. All the more reason why we believe this ties to the R.E.Q.U.I.E.M System."
A stillness filled the room, heavy as deep water.
"…The Requiem System?" Haturii asked, almost regretting asking.
"One of many," Stane replied. "No known origin. Ancient, possibly pre-Foundation. We don't control it. We barely understand it. All we know is — when it manifests, bad things follow."
Ganymede stepped closer to the cabinet at the far wall, her boots clicking against the floor. "RS-07's activity syncs with Requiem readings. Every time it appears, local biospheric life force in the area drops. We believe it feeds on it."
She unlocked the cabinet and withdrew a small case. Inside, shimmering canisters pulsed with liquid light, a faint warmth radiating from within. Energy amplifiers. These were portable power sources designed to supercharge Drifter abilities for short bursts. The glow painted her fingers gold.
"You'll be issued these. Use only if absolutely necessary. High energy output draws it in. Think of these like glowsticks at a rave for murder monsters. In particular, this murder monster. In other words, If it senses a spike, it will come."
"And what happens if it feeds too much?" Haturii asked.
The doctor stayed silent. Ganymede answered instead, her voice a shade lower.
"Then it will no longer need to hide."
Haturii let out a slow breath. "Understood."
As Ganymede turned to leave, Haturii's voice caught her mid-step. "If you're warning us to be cautious, we get it."
She stopped. The air between them cooled. When she turned her head just enough for him to see her eyes, there was no softness in them.
"You misunderstand. I'm not warning you to be cautious." She said.
Her gaze locked on his.
"I'm telling you to be afraid."
The words landed like a gunshot in the still room.
Haturii's expression hardened. "Then all the more reason you're coming with us."
Ganymede froze. "What?" The word came out sharpened.
"You wouldn't mind, would you? You've spent years on this case. You're practically part of it. No partner. No family. This thing is your life's work."
She looked to Dr. Stane who sighed like a man watching a bad bet unfold.
"You want boots on the ground?" he said. "She knows more than all of us combined. She built half the tracking software we're using."
Ganymede's face didn't budge, but something behind her eyes shifted.
"You're asking me to follow a monster into the dark. Fine. But don't ask me to drag you back when it decides you're prey."
She left without another word.
Haturii watched her go, the cold blue light still flickering on the walls. "Sure do hope it's worth it."
****
Elsewhere...
Rain pattered faintly against the metal scaffolding.
"…If we're dealing with ridiculously OP monsters now," Yukira muttered under her breath, "I highly doubt we're making the cut for this one."
Orenji arched a brow. "Guess we're benched, huh? Damn. And I was really looking forward to getting vaporized. Thought it'd be a great character development moment too."
"Could you be serious for five minutes?"
"Probably not," he said with a shrug. "My contract clearly states I'm the comedic relief."
Yukira rolled her eyes, sharp with irritation — and then, mid-motion, she crouched, her voice dropping from sarcasm to a note that made Orenji's pulse skip.
"Oi. Come look at this. You seeing this?"
He joined her, already bracing for bad news. The blast door loomed in front of them — not blown outward, but crumpled inward like a crushed soda can.
"That's tungsten alloy," he said quietly.
Yukira ran her fingers over the cold, twisted metal. Her eyes narrowed.
"There's something on it. Burn marks… but they're faint."
"That doesn't make sense. Metal like this doesn't just give out. Not unless something really powerful hit it straight on."
"No heat signature. No clear pattern. Just force," she murmured. "Raw, direct, and heavy."
Orenji stepped back a little. "You're thinking an Ergokinetic?"
"Energy user. Maybe," Yukira said, not sounding convinced. She stood up. "Whatever it is, it doesn't leave behind much. It just… breaks things."
"We should tell Haturii," Orenji said quickly. "This could be serious. He'll know what to do."
As he turned to leave, Yukira caught his arm. He paused, blinking, and met her gaze dead-on. She was smiling. Just a little. But it wasn't the reassuring kind.
The 'I-just-wrote-us-into-a-side-quest' kind.
"Whoa now, jumpy. And where do you think you're going?"
"…To tell Haturii," he said flatly. "Because that is the responsible thing to do. You know. Protocol. Orders. Safety. Not dying."
"I've got a better idea."
"Oh good lord…" he knew what was coming.
"So how about we not do that," she offered, flashing the most suspiciously charming smile since the fox in Zootopia. "All I'm saying is, why don't we take a quick look ourselves to make sure. Just a quick look. Cause if we report this wrong, we'll look like total idiots."
"That's your concern? Looking stupid?"
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't have to. "This could be the first Wraith-Class anomaly in years. We screw this up, we're done. And I'm not watching another squad get body-bagged because we waited for permission."
Her voice dropped, her pride slipping aside for just a second. "Listen. I'm not saying we go rogue, okay? We'll just do some visual verifications, lay eyes on the target, and then we call in Haturii. You wanted to matter, right? This is how."
Orenji sighed, the sound of a man watching common sense slip away. "One quick look. Then we call it in. I mean it."
"Oh," she replied sweetly, hands behind her back, her fingers most definitely crossed like a gremlin making mischief, all the while very well telling the lie, "Well, all right then. I promise…"
< Chapter Three > Fin.