"Is that all?"
The late afternoon sunlight shone faintly into the room, reflecting off Sir Zoldrak's leather chair, and Arthur's bright yellow attire.
Just ahead and to his left, stood Glock, but he was no longer sitting on the sofa, instead, he stood at the mini shelf of books, reading through one.
"Hmm," He hummed, as he raised his head to the ceiling.
"Yeah. Nothing more, nothing less," he replied, his eyes going back to the book.
Sir Zoldrak raised his sofa, as he settled into his seat.
"If what you're saying is right, the demon wasn't too much of a threat?" He asked, his eyes never leaving Glock.
Glock didn't raise his head from the book, he only nodded in affirmation.
"Twas slightly above low-class. The victims were probably amateurs, that's why they died," he replied.
"Such mysterious happenings sorrounding a demon that weak?" Sir Zoldrak whispered to himself.
"However, are you sure you didn't notice anything strange? Survivors or something you want to share?" Sir Zoldrak asked, his brows furrowing.
"I already told you all I know," Glock replied flatly, as he dropped the book he was reading and picked another one.
"The only other info you can get is from the surveillance team. Me? I've told you all," he said, as he opened the book.
Sir Zoldrak's eyes slowly turned to Arthur, who as usual, just raised his hand to adjust his glasses.
"Arrgh," he sighed, then spoke again.
"Well, we did find something."
As the words left Sir Zoldrak's mouth, Glock froze.
He stopped swiping the pages.
"Oh, and what's that?" He asked, his tone low and dark.
Sir Zoldrak's lips parted.
"According to the tenzometer..."
Glock's eyes stopped moving, as his grip tightened.
"...there were two survivors," Sir Zoldrak completed his statement.
"Uh?" Glock muttered, his eyes widening with relief, as he realized it wasn't what he was thinking that they found. And that was:
The blood orb.
When Glock gave the reports of his investigation, he reported every thing that he saw...
The demon's body. The forest's obliteration. Everything else, except one.
He didn't report the strange blood orb he found.
Pam!
Glock closed the book with a loud slap, punctuating the temporary silence that filled the air.
He carefully placed the book back in its spot, and turned to face them.
"Survivors?" He repeated, brows furrowing, as he dipped his hand into his pocket. "I didn't find any..." He added, bringing out a pack of cigarettes.
He carefully took one out and tucked it into his mouth, then dipped his hand into his suit's pocket, brought out a lighter, and...
Twoof!
The cigarette was lit.
"Harbinger," Sir Zoldrak's brows curved. "No smoking in my office," he said, his tone commanding.
Glock took a deep whiff of his cigarette, and puffed out the smokes in toroids.
Sir Zoldrak seemed to get more and more cross by the second.
"You need to take it easy once in a while," Glock said, as he lazily shoved his hand at him.
"Tch," Sir Zoldrak hissed.
"Don't be so stern," Glock said, as he stepped forward, smoke oozing off the cigarette.
He raised his left hand to look at his watch, and...
"Arrgh, time up!" He exclaimed, as his gaze dropped to the table.
"Still upfront about your time consciousness?" Sir Zoldrak asked, a smirk tugging on his lips.
"Time is life," Glock replied, taking slow steps to the table.
His eyes slowly and creepily tilted to Arthur's. He took another whiff of his cigarette, and released the smoke.
"Any other thing?" He finally asked, his voice dropping to a low whisper.
"Yes," Sir Zoldrak replied, adjusting forward, as he shoved the smoke aside. "You said the demon was already killed before you arrived, something natural?" he asked, brows raising.
Glock's eyes narrowed.
Then he remembered.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he exclaimed, as he tucked his hand into his suit.
Arthur adjusted his glasses.
"Don't you ever get bored of that?," Glock said, raising a brow to Arthur, as he slowly brought his hand out of his pocket.
First, a white rectangular envelope, then a golden stamp.
He slapped the envelope onto the table, as Sir Zoldrak and Arthur shifted their gazes onto it.
"What's this?" Sir Zoldrak asked, his eyes narrowing.
"What else? A letter..." Glock replied flatly.
"With a golden stamp?" Sir Zoldrak muttered. "From who?" He asked.
Glock turned to leave, his suit flaying slideways.
Then, he replied, as his footsteps echoed off.
"...from god."
"God?" Sir Zoldrak repeated in confusion.
"Yeah," Glock halted. "He calls himself god."
Swing!
Glock swung the door open, as he stepped out.
"So long..." He whispered, waving his hand, as the door slowly closed behind him.
"Until the last grain falls."
As the door slammed shut, Sir Zoldrak sighed deeply, settling into his seat.
"I'm too old for all this hassles," he groaned lazily.
Then he sat up back, eyeing the golden stamp on the envelope.
Arthur slowly stretched his hand to pick it.
'A golden stamp?' Sir Zoldrak worried.
In Tenebrous, a golden stamp was no mean thing. It carried authority with it.
Arthur carefully unwrapped the letter, as the envelope's wrap fell to the table.
He opened the letter, then, his eyes stopped moving.
"Uh?" Sir Zoldrak exclaimed, as he noticed the change in Arthur's demeanor.
"What's wrong? What's in it?" He asked.
Arthur's lips moved in slightly, as he passed the letter to him.
Sir Zoldrak collected it, his eyes shifting from Arthur to the letter.
If whatever was written in the letter was enough to cause a change in Arthur's demeanor, then it wasn't ordinary.
As Sir Zoldrak collected it, he quickly opened it, and his eyes started reading, starting from the strange address.
TO Sir Zelazny Zoldrak, The SG, WAS, HAZEN.
From a god...
"Okay?" Sir Zoldrak muttered, as his eyes passed the address. It was weird.
Then, he reached the body, and stopped.
"Uh?" His eyes widened in surprise.
He was staring at a blank piece of paper, with only a single word written on it:
"Yo🙂."
But that wasn't all. Instead of a formal salutation of "Yours Faithfully" or something better, this was written:
"Yours in everlasting glory(mostly mine), Van Ackerman."
"What the actual hell?" Sir Zoldrak exclaimed.
A golden stamp is used for highly important letters, and the presence of should mean authority.
But this one?
This was more like a joke.
"If I get hold of him..." Sir Zoldrak gritted his teeth, as he squeezed the paper and tossed it away.
...
"Achooo!" The masked man sneezed heavily, as the cup of coffee in his hand jiggled.
"You okay?" Hina asked, throwing a startled gaze at him.
"I feel like someone's talking about me right now..." He replied.
***
To Be Continued...