This all felt strangely surreal. I mean, after spending so much time here, you'd think the feeling would've passed. But nope—it was still there. You remember that cinematic from episode 04, Warm Up? Yeah, baby. I was here.
Apparently, since my ability finally manifested, I could no longer be trained by simple VAs. I'd been given VP status. Just one thing confused me, though—why the hell was I VP-00?
It was definitely weird. Technically, I should've been VP-30, right? If Veto got recruited on this Earth, that is.
But anyway, that was one of those questions the big man refused to answer. So, I guess that's that. Back to the topic—if you haven't seen the cinematic, go watch it on YouTube. (You'll have fun, or at least imagine the scene better.) It's awesome on video—and even more awesome in reality. It was identical. From the door to the empty locker labeled "8," and even Cypher's glass chess set—it was all here. I was so hyped that I moved the king's pawn two steps forward. Sorry, couldn't help myself.
I was fanboying over everything when the door whooshed open and a girl walked in with a tablet. Beanie, glasses—Killjoy. Couldn't remember her real name, but I sure remembered that voice line about German efficiency.
She didn't notice me for a while, so I just sat there, awkwardly trying to think of a way to say hello. After a few minutes, I gave up and opened my locker. Not that I had anything to put in it—just wanted to look. After our meeting, Brimstone had given me the rest of the day off.
Oh right, the meeting.
So yeah, after Clove's crazy stunt, I figured it was in my best interest to share part of my ability. I said nothing about the Extra Brain. Mostly because, well, that just sounded insane.
"Hi, I'm so smart that my brain made another brain to hold my smartness. Now I talk to my brain when I'm confused."
Yeah… that would not go well.
I told Brimstone I could copy four abilities at a time, that I needed a basic template, and that it cost Radianite to unlock another switch. Basically, everything about my powers except the system and world-walking. The man just took another sip of whiskey and dismissed me.
A few hours later, a VA showed up with a room key, locker code, and new schedule. Which is how I ended up here.
Though I did have a question. How did he insert locker 00 in front of 01? Was it always there, or did they shift the lockers around? Or maybe, given how high-tech this place was, they had LEGO-style lockers—just plug one in wherever you need it.
"Who are you?"
Oh, she noticed me. She was cute. Too bad she was dating Raze. Not that she was in my league anyway.
"Hi, I'm the new guy. Mirror."
Real names weren't used here. The big man told me that.
"Huh, you're the one Cypher's been monitoring."
I wanted to say I told you so, but there was no one to say it to.
"You must be Killjoy, right?"
"Yes, I am. Welcome to the team, kid."
I knew for a fact she was in her early twenties, too. Why call me kid? She went back to her tablet.
What? No curiosity? No questions? Did Cipher already brief her? Guess a powerless newbie doesn't warrant attention.
"Excuse me—since I got my VP pass today, would you mind telling me a bit about the team? I don't know much."
This time, she paused.
"You were made VP?"
"Yeah, why do you think I have a locker?"
"I thought you were cleaning it as punishment or something. Wait—when did we have a 00?"
"Why are you the 00?"
"I—"
"What's your power?"
"Can you fly?"
"What—"
"Did you know the 08 guy?"
"I've got so many questions."
Thankfully, the gate opened again, and Cypher walked out.
"His memory is fragmented. No use grilling him. The kid's clueless."
Yeah, he'd know. Killjoy—KJ for short—looked lost in thought, staring at me like I was some mildly interesting zoo exhibit. I turned to Cypher.
"Sir, would you mind telling me about the team dynamics?"
He sat down by the chessboard and let out a hum.
"Hmm, sure. I don't see why not. The team's divided into squads of five for missions, usually. We try to get a varied skillset if the threat's unknown, and a specialized one if the objective's clear. There are duelists, initiators, controllers, and sentinels. Duelists are fighters, initiators are scouts, controllers manipulate maps or counter surveillance, and sentinels—well, they protect."
He made a move on the board. I instinctively joined in.
"Outside missions, though, you'll find three kinds of us: Primary, Auxiliary, and Crazy."
That second classification caught me off guard. Crazy?
We made a few moves. I was getting bored, so I let Jarvis take over the chess game.
"Primaries are standard agents—normal recruits fighting for the cause and the paycheck. Pretty sane folks, like KJ, Jett, Phoenix, Sage, and Sova. They treat this like a job."
"Then there's the Auxillaries. They're here for reasons other than money or cause—people like Chamber, KAY/O, Yoru, and Viper. You'll spot them by how they chase favors or secrets. They're moody, inconsistent, sometimes brilliant. They are either indifferent or as enthusiastic as the kid on Santa's lap on Christmas. Depending on what the Commander promised them that day. You won't see them often."
He paused.
"And then, of course, the crazies. Officially, they're Primaries or Auxiliaries, but I'd advise you to keep your distance. Or I just might not be able to find you."
I waited. He didn't say names.
"The names of the crazies sound more important than the rest, you know."
Cypher glanced up. "Who taught you that?"
I looked down—and realized I'd checkmated him. Which made him blank out mid-sentence. Wait, I won? Cypher was probably one of the smartest strategists around. How the hell did I win? Oh, right—Jarvis. Supercomputer. And I'd played chess since I was four. It was kind of the family after cards. It had the rules and a training data set. Remembering those games made me a bit homesick.
"My brother."
"He taught you well."
"Yeah. He did."
-----
The names he'd dropped were already the ones I planned to avoid. Raze was a trigger-happy maniac with a bazooka. Reyna devoured souls like snacks—pretty sure she'd consider mine a rare delicacy.
Omen was a traumatized immortal ghost. And Clove was… well, Clove.
And just as I thought her name, the door opened.
"Hey, fam!"
Speak of the devil.
In all of this, one thing struck me as odder than my number.
KJ was a founding member. 04 if I remembered right. How the hell did she not know 08?