A dull hum vibrated through the room, the screens flickering faintly. Alex blinked his eyes open, slowly straightened, and took a deep breath. His neck cracked as he turned his head to the side. He had been sleeping for hours, amidst the machines in his private lab.
A knock on the door broke the silence. Three times, firmly, without hesitation. Alex ran a hand over his face, then growled harshly:
"Come in."
The door swung open, and a slender figure entered the room—his right-hand man, an agent who had been with him for years. She closed the door carefully behind her and stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her.
"Hi, boss," she began matter-of-factly, but there was a hint of nervousness in her voice. "I just wanted to... complain about you."
Alex's eyebrow twitched. He leaned back, eyeing her like an annoying mosquito bothering him as he woke up. "Complain? About me?"
She took a deep breath, then blurted out: "You insulted all of our employees. Every single one. You shouted at them, called them idiots... and in the end, you didn't find out anything that wasn't already obvious."
Alex grinned coldly, without humor. "Yes, yes... I found out more than all of you put together. You're just too stupid to see it."
The agent clenched her hands but stood her ground. "Find out more? They filtered out a single word. One word, boss. Timeline. And you know what? Two minutes later, our analysts found out exactly the same thing. Without the drama. Without the insults."
There was a moment of silence. The monitors cast their bluish light on Alex's face, which grew increasingly hard. His eyes narrowed, and he slowly straightened. "Do you know what your problem is?" he asked quietly, his voice cold as steel. "You think you can tell me how to do my job to my face."
His gaze bored into hers, a sharp, sparkling blue filled with anger. "So piss off. Shut up. And get out of my room."
She hesitated, took a breath, about to say something else—but the look in his eyes silenced her. Slowly, she turned, opened the door without another word, and disappeared down the corridor.
Alex stayed behind. His gaze was fixed on the closed door as he pressed his hands to the table. A smile, barely perceptible, crossed his face—dismissive, superior.
Machines hummed in the room, and Alex closed his eyes briefly, as if savoring the power of being the one pulling the strings even amidst chaos.
Alex sat silently in his office for a while. The neon tubes hummed, the monotonous clicking of the machines was the only sound that filled the room. But his head rattled incessantly.
Timelines… He leaned back, stared at the ceiling, and a scrap of memory flashed through his mind. Cases buried in the archives. Reports of other encounters, of other beings. And then—the image. Clear, like a slap in the face.
"Damn," he muttered, abruptly sitting up straight. They've happened before. These aliens. With the crystal… the time crystal.
He pushed his chair back, stood up, and stepped to the door. With a jerk, he pulled it open. There was no one in the hallway—almost no one. Further back, uncertain, as if she had sensed he'd need it again: his right hand.
"You! Here." His voice was hard, a command, not a shout.
She came closer, her face tense. "What's up?"
Alex crossed his arms, his gaze piercing her. "You remember the time crystal, right? The one we bagged back then. Yeah, that one. Get me that damn thing."
She frowned. "You mean... really? The crystal from back then? But—"
"Yeah, that one," he interrupted sharply. Then he tilted his head slightly, a sarcastic grin playing across his lips. "And before you start annoying me with your whining again: just shut up and get that damn thing. Otherwise, I'll fire you, rip your head off, and put it in my office as a flower vase. Got it?"
His voice was cutting, but there was a hint of mockery in the last inflection—that biting, dangerous sarcasm he mastered so masterfully.
She pressed her lips together, her gaze downward, and finally murmured, "...Thank you."
He just grinned coldly. "That's better."
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she turned and walked down the hall, her footsteps echoing between the bare walls. Alex watched her until she disappeared around a corner.
Then he closed the door again, a low, self-satisfied chuckle escaping his throat.
The door opened, and his right hand entered. In her hands lay the crystal, glowing coldly, like a frozen piece of eternity.
"Here, boss."
Alex slowly raised her head, looked at the object—and then back at her. A confused blink.
"Hmm?" He tilted his head, as if he'd forgotten he'd even asked. "Oh, right. I'm sick of it anymore. Take the thing to the lab, let the idiots play with it."
She pressed her lips together, said nothing, and disappeared.
Hours passed.
The door opened again, and the same voice rang out, this time irritated:
"Well, boss... we're not getting anywhere."
Alex slowly sat up, ran his hand through his hair, and stared at her for a moment. Then he exploded.
"Seriously?! You sat there for hours and accomplished NOTHING? You're so ridiculous, pathetic—any damn intern could have accomplished more! Do you just stand around in the lab and drool on keyboards, or what?"
He got up and stomped down the corridor into the lab. There, the employees stood indecisively around the crystal, devices blinking, monitors flickering, but no results.
"Out!" he yelled, his voice like a blow. "Everyone out! I don't want to see a single face. Get out, now!"
Reluctantly, the staff pushed their way outside, some muttering, others with downcast eyes. Alex waited until the door closed. Then he stood in front of the crystal, folded his arms, and stared at it.
Two minutes passed.
Then he stepped out, his eyes shining as if he had just read the blueprint of the universe.
"Four-dimensional beings," he began coldly. "They exist outside of space and time. Aliens, yes, but not in the way you think. They're not bound to our reality—they swim in it like sharks in water. And they've noticed something: Time itself is disintegrating. Breaking open, rotting. And they're here because they can't stop it. Understand?"
Silence.
Everyone stared at him, mouths half-open, faces pale. Perplexed. Speechless.
Alex spread his arms. "See, it's that simple. Two minutes, and I know more than all of you combined in hours of miserable work. You're like monkeys pushing buttons."
He snorted, wiping the air with his hand as if trying to sweep it all away.
"Get back to the lab. And don't come to me with that crap again, or I'll hook you up to the electrical circuit and watch you fry."
Without another word, he turned around, went back to his office, lay down on the couch—and fell asleep as if he hadn't just explained the very foundations of reality.
A soft knock.
"Come in."
The door opened, and his right hand cautiously entered. She seemed tense, her brow furrowed.
"Sir," she began, folding her arms, "do you really have to constantly insult our employees? Do you seriously think they'll want to work for you much longer?"
Alex was still half-sitting on his couch, but rose with a mocking smile. Without a word, he reached for the bottle of red wine that was on the shelf, took a glass, and strolled leisurely to the window. The rain slapped against the pane, the city below a dark, blurry sea of lights.
"Do you know," he said, slowly pouring the wine, "why the men and women chose to be at AAA?" He half-turned toward her, swirling the glass, letting the lamplight glint off the deep red wine. "Because they wanted to investigate the supernatural. They wanted to hunt monsters, see miracles, understand the impossible. It's the only thing that drove them."
His right hand crossed his arms again, glaring at him sternly. "And what's stopping them from quitting?"
Alex laughed softly, a dark, mocking tone. Then he sipped his wine, taking his time before answering.
"Fear," he said coldly. "They know that if they leave AAA, I'll erase their memories. They know that their entire lives, every memory, every thought—is in my hands. With fear, you control people. Because people fear nothing more than being forgotten."
He took a step closer to the window, looked out into the night, his glass half empty. Then he turned his head back to her, his eyes tired but sharp.
"Now... shut up. I want to sleep."
He placed the glass on the windowsill, turned around, and lay back down on the couch as if nothing had happened. His right hand remained undecided for a moment, but finally nodded silently and left the room.
The humming.
This constant, vibrating drone of the old machines permeated the office like a nagging tinnitus. Alex lay on his couch, eyes closed, and tried to ignore it. But the longer it continued, the more it ate into his mind, until every single sound felt like a stab in his temple.
Finally, he opened his eyes in irritation, slammed his fist against the armrest, and jumped up. He stomped over to the communications desk, angrily pressed the button, and yelled into the microphone:
"My right hand must enter my office IMMEDIATELY! IMMEDIATELY!"
The door opened hesitantly a moment later. His right hand stepped in, his eyes tired, his posture stooped. "Yes, sir... what is it now?" she asked with a mixture of resignation and annoyance.
Alex paced the room restlessly, his gaze wild. "I want you to do something for me!"
She sighed heavily, rubbed her eyes, and slumped her shoulders. "Sir, I just finished a fifteen-hour shift. Please... please let me sleep. Just a few hours."
Alex stopped abruptly, pointed a finger at her, and snarled, "No, no, no! You can go to sleep right away! These damned machines are driving me crazy! This humming, this clattering, this... vibration! I want it changed!"
He stepped to the wall, pounding on it with his fist as if he were personally trying to beat out the noise. Then he turned back to her, his eyes full of anger. "I want to introduce renovations. Starting immediately! I want this Prochbo completely renovated! New technology, the latest appliances, everything! But do something—or I'll lose it!"
His right hand raised his arms submissively, tiredness written all over his face. "Okay, boss... I'll do it. Tomorrow morning. I promise."
Alex snorted, breathing heavily, then slumped back onto the couch. The vibrating machines continued to drone, but he forced himself to close his eyes.
His right hand just shook his head, turned wordlessly, and left the office.