THE SG'S OFFICE, WAS HQ, HAZEN.
"The damage assessment and combat log from our last communication showed an A.T.R. increase of 0.04% per second, recorded an hour ago. So far, there have been 300 casualties, including 154 sorcerers and the rest civilians. We've also lost about 11 personnel from the surveillance team, whose deaths were due to anti-tenzen poisoning."
The sun shone brightly into the room, partly blocked by the curtains on either side of the wide glass window.
Opposite it sat Sir Zelazny Zoldrak, slouched slightly in his imposing black leather chair.
Beside him stood Arthur Smith, holding a notepad. The sunlight glinted off his glasses as he adjusted them with two fingers.
"This is getting worse," Sir Zoldrak sighed, his brows furrowing.
Arthur continued. "Tenzometer readings also show that the A.T. density in the area is reaching implosion threshold, and that means..."
"We might be calling a disaster upon ourselves," Sir Zoldrak finished grimly.
He shook his head.
"You mean even after our last raid, we still can't suppress the anti-tenzen density?" Sir Zoldrak asked.
"Sadly," Arthur replied with a nod. "After every annihilation-class raid, the anti-tenzen density remains unchanged. And that is the reason demons are multiplying so rapidly in the area."
"Without addressing the source of the anti-tenzen surge, we cannot suppress demonic activity in Blackthorn Forest," Arthur added, adjusting his glasses again.
Sir Zoldrak's chair creaked as he leaned forward.
"The source?" he repeated, brows knitting.
"This is too much for an old man like me to think about," he muttered, bowing his head.
Then he raised it again.
"How about the Teron Forest incident?" he asked, turning to Arthur.
"Yes," Arthur nodded. "So far, we haven't received any reports from the surveillance team concerning the demon's A.T.R, but we do have records about the sorcerers...or I should say, the illegal personnel involved."
"What do you mean?" Sir Zoldrak's brows furrowed.
"A group of ten, consisting of a sorcerer and nine others, embarked on the mission illegally. They had no certification or pass," Arthur said, adjusting his glasses.
Sir Zoldrak's eyes narrowed.
"And last night, eight of the ten who ventured were confirmed dead," Arthur dropped the words flatly.
"Dead?" Sir Zoldrak's eyes widened in alarm.
"Yes," Arthur replied. His voice was grim, emotionless, his eyes indifferent. "Their tenzen signatures dropped to zero."
"Shit!" Sir Zoldrak clenched his fist. "What about the other two?" he pressed, desperate for some good news.
"As for the other two..." Arthur paused.
"...they are alive."
"Arrrgh," Sir Zoldrak sighed in relief. "Finally, some news."
"Yes, but however..." Arthur's tone darkened as he adjusted his glasses again.
"Huh?" Sir Zoldrak's gaze flicked to him.
"They have negative tenzen signatures," Arthur said plainly.
"What? How's that possible?" Sir Zoldrak exclaimed. "Only demons should have that!'
"Yes, but that's what was detected, and we haven't been able to come up with a reason for that," Arthur replied.
"Hmm... tenzen signatures are proofs of our existence. How can a human exist without tenzen? And if they were demons all along, the tenzometer should've detected their presence," Sir Zoldrak argued.
"We tried using that to pinpoint their location, but it all led to a null," Arthur explained.
"Uh? What do you mean?" Sir Zoldrak asked.
Arthur continued. "Very strangely, their original Tenzen signatures have been erased, and they now possess new ones which are constantly changing between the range of -0.5% to -1.2%."
"That's almost zero," Sir Zoldrak sighed in disappointment.
"Very low, I'd say," Arthur chimed in.
"Meaning we can't detect them even if we tried?" Sir Zoldrak asked.
"That's right, sir. Those signatures are lower than the natural Tenzen density in Eldrid, and the tenzometer cannot detect anything less than -2.0%. Meaning we cannot track their specific locations."
"In that case, we might be in a deadlock," Sir Zoldrak whispered, turning toward the sunlit window.
Arthur stepped closer. "For now, we can only come to a hypothetical conclusion..."
"I don't want to believe that possibility," Sir Zoldrak muttered in disbelief and dread. "It should be our last conclusion," he added grimly.
Sir Zoldrak swallowed.
He knew what Arthur was thinking:
It was common knowledge that only particular beings could posses negative, almost-zero Tenzen signatures.
W.A.S nemesis:
Zeros.
Before Sir Zoldrak could process the thought-
BLAM!
The door flung open with a deafening crash.
Sir Zoldrak and Arthur spun in alarm.
"Arrgh, what a long day it has been," Glock Harbinger sighed as he strode inside. He shut the door behind him with another loud bang that rattled the room.
"Harbinger," Sir Zoldrak snapped. "What happened to knocking?"
Glock's gaze drifted lazily from Sir Zoldrak's scowl, to the door, to Arthur's impassive eyes, and back again.
"My bad," he said casually, settling into the golden sofa.
"Good grief," Sir Zoldrak muttered, rubbing his brow.
"I thought you weren't arriving until next month," Glock remarked, his sharp eyes scanning the room in an instant.
"That was the plan," Sir Zoldrak admitted, shaking his head. "But work never allows me peace."
"If only you could retire," Glock quipped, his tone edged with sarcasm.
His gaze flicked to Arthur, who as always betrayed no emotion. Glock smiled faintly, but Arthur only dismissed him with a cold adjustment of his glasses.
"Arrgh," Glock sighed, turning back to Sir Zoldrak.
"I've got news," he said, his eyes narrowing, tone hardening.
"Hmm, I see... Which is it? Blackthorn or the recent Teron Forest incident?" Sir Zoldrak asked, resting his chin on his hands.
"Why don't we start with the latter?" Glock replied, a grin spreading slowly across his face.
...
A few minutes later...
...
"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. He was no longer sitting on the sofa. Instead, he stood at the mini shelf of books, flipping through one.
"Hmm," he hummed, raising his head to the ceiling.
"Yeah. Nothing more, nothing less," he replied, his eyes returning to the book.
Sir Zoldrak leaned back into his chair, settling into his seat.
"If what you're saying is right, the demon wasn't much of a threat?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Glock.
Glock didn't raise his head from the book. He only nodded.
"It was slightly above low-class. The victims were probably amateurs. That's why they died," he replied emotionlessly.
"Such mysterious happenings surrounding a demon that weak?" Sir Zoldrak whispered.
"Who defeated the demon? The surveillance team confirmed its neutralization before your arrival there," Sir Zoldrak pressed, his brows furrowing.
"Hmm, who knows. By the time I got there, only trees remained," Glock replied flatly, dropping the book he was reading and picking another.
"Except if trees could fight," he chipped in a joke, but no one seemed interested in laughing.
After realizing his failure in making them laugh...
"The only other info you'll get is from the surveillance team." Arthur said, opening the book.
Sir Zoldrak's eyes turned to Arthur, who as usual only raised his hand to adjust his glasses.
"Arrgh," Sir Zoldrak sighed, then spoke again.
"Well, we did find something."
As the words left Sir Zoldrak's mouth, Glock froze.
He stopped flipping pages.
"Oh? And what's that?" he asked, his tone low and dark.
Sir Zoldrak's lips parted.
"According to the surveillance team..."
Glock's eyes stilled, his grip tightening on the book.
"...there were two survivors," Sir Zoldrak finished.
"Uh?" Glock muttered, his eyes widening with relief as he realized it wasn't what he thought they had found. That was:
The blood orb.
When Glock gave the report of his investigation, he included everything he saw...
The demon's body. The forest's obliteration. Everything else. Except one.
He didn't report the strange blood orb he discovered.
Pam!
Glock closed the book with a loud slap, punctuating the silence that filled the air.
He carefully placed it back on the shelf 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, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
He slid one out and tucked it into his mouth, then reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a lighter, and...
Twoof!
The cigarette lit.
"Harbinger," Sir Zoldrak's brows curved. "No smoking in my office," he said, his tone commanding.
Glock took a deep whiff of the cigarette and puffed the smoke in rings.
Sir Zoldrak grew more cross by the second.
"You need to take it easy once in a while," Glock said, lazily waving a hand.
"Tch," Sir Zoldrak hissed.
"Don't be so stern," Glock added, stepping forward, as smoke trailed from the cigarette.
He raised his left hand to glance at his watch, and...
"Arrgh, time up!" he exclaimed, lowering his gaze to the table.
"Still upfront about your time consciousness?" Sir Zoldrak asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Time is life," Glock replied, taking slow steps toward the table.
His eyes slid toward Arthur's. He inhaled again and exhaled smoke.
"Any other thing?" he asked finally, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Yes," Sir Zoldrak replied, leaning forward as he shoved the smoke aside. "You said the demon was already dead before you arrived. Something natural?"
Glock's eyes narrowed.
Then he remembered.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he exclaimed, reaching into his suit.
Arthur adjusted his glasses.
"Don't you ever get bored of that?" Glock asked, raising a brow at Arthur as he slowly pulled something out.
First, a white rectangular envelope. Then, a golden stamp.
He slapped the envelope onto the table. Sir Zoldrak and Arthur's gazes shifted to it.
"What's this?" Sir Zoldrak asked, eyes narrowing.
"What else? A letter," Glock replied flatly.
"With a golden stamp?" Sir Zoldrak muttered. "From who?"
Glock turned to leave, his suit flaring sideways.
Then he replied, his footsteps echoing.
"...from god."
"God?" Sir Zoldrak repeated in confusion.
"Yeah," Glock halted. "He calls himself god."
Swing!
Glock swung the door open and 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, sinking back into his seat.
"I'm too old for all these hassles," he groaned.
Then he sat upright again, eyeing the golden stamp on the envelope.
Arthur stretched his hand, carefully picking it up.
'A golden stamp?' Sir Zoldrak thought with worry.
Arthur unwrapped the letter carefully. The envelope's wrap fell to the table.
He unfolded the letter, and then his eyes froze.
"Uh?" Sir Zoldrak exclaimed, noticing the change in Arthur's expression.
"What's wrong? What's in it?" he asked.
Arthur's lips pressed slightly together as he passed the letter to him.
Sir Zoldrak took it, his gaze shifting from Arthur to the paper.
If whatever was written there could shake Arthur's calm demeanor, then it wasn't ordinary.
He quickly opened it and read, starting from the strange address:
TO Sir Zelazny Zoldrak, The SG, WAS, HAZEN.
From a god...
"Okay?" Sir Zoldrak muttered, moving past the address. It was odd.
Then he reached the body, and stopped.
"Uh?" His eyes widened in surprise.
It was a blank sheet of paper, with only a single word written:
"Yo."
But that wasn't all. Instead of a formal closing, there was this:
"Yours in everlasting glory (mostly mine), Van Ackerman."
"What the actual hell?" Sir Zoldrak exclaimed.
"It must've been Van Ackerman who neutralized the demon," Arthur finally realized.
A golden stamp was reserved for highly important letters.
But this one?
This was a joke.
"If I get hold of him..." Sir Zoldrak gritted his teeth, crumpling the paper and tossing it away.
***
Azura, Easton.
"Achooo!" Van Ackerman sneezed heavily, his coffee sloshing in the cup.
"You okay?" Hina asked, startled.
"I feel like someone's talking about me right now..." he replied.
"Eh? Everyone talks about you!" Hina said flatly, going back to the book she was reading.
***
To Be Continued...