Chapter 111: The Quiet Before

Makun lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

One and a half weeks.

That was all it had taken. From suicidal employee to homeless wanderer to MIO investigator.

The speed of it should have terrified him.

It did not.

This wave, I am going to ride it.

Be it mystics, creatures, or the eyed hand itself, he would face them all, he would climb, he would find answers.

His eyes grew heavy.

And as sleep pulled him under, the familiar darkness of his recurring dreams reached up to meet him.

…

BEEP! BEEP!

Makun’s hand shot out from under the blanket and silenced his phone.

5:00 AM.

He lay still for a moment, the echo of the dream fading. Chains, darkness, glass tubes, the same images, every night.

He pushed them aside and sat up.

The shower was brief, he had used water warm enough to remove the remaining sleep from his bones. He dressed up and stepped into the corridor.

The residential wing was quiet, most doors still closed.

“Morning, Makun.”

Sarah approached from down the hall, a radiant smile on her face despite the early hour.

“Did you sleep well? First mission nerves?”

Was she waiting for me? He thought.

“I slept just fine.” He said, not mentioning the torture he endured every time he slept.

“That is good, let’s meet the others at Kenji’s.” She said, walking past him towards the main corridor.

“Kenji?” Makun asked, confused, quietly following behind her.

“Yes, he is our fifth team member, a third-grade Apprentice builder. Every time we get a mission, he supplies us with tools.” She said. “Do not worry, he will not make it difficult for you.”

She glanced back with a small smile.

“He is quiet and reserved.”

Makun noted the information.

Sarah led him back to the main corridor till they reached a heavy metal door marked Workshop B-7.

Sarah pressed her palm against the panel.

Makun felt it immediately, the shift. A slight pressure in his ears, a flicker at the edge of his vision.

Another frequency change.

How many layers does this place have?

He stepped inside.

The workshop was massive, easily the size of the arena. But where the arena was empty, this place was full of objects and devices.

Workstations lined the walls, dozens of them, and each was dedicated to a different craft.

On the left Precision lathes, 3D printers, welding stations with robotic arms and on the right, the tools were ancient, older, things like forges, anvils of varying sizes, and very good quality hammers.

Modern and ancient, it seems they have different focuses for different builders. He thought. Is it sub route related?

In the center of the workshop, Makun saw Danielle and beside her, Ray leaned against a workbench, a coffee cup in one hand.

Sarah noticed too.

“Ooh! Ray is not late today.” She remarked, genuine surprise in her voice. “What a surprise.”

Ray ignored her, his focus on Danielle’s conversation with Kenji.

“You needed communication devices, a frequency distortion device, and guns.” Kenji spoke.

He was lean, of average height, with black hair cropped short and neat. A builder’s mask covered the upper half of his face, a sleek device with tinted lenses that glowed faintly blue. It obscured his eyes completely, giving him an almost mechanical appearance.

He turned to look at Sarah and Makun who had reached their side by now. “For them too?”

“Yes, prepare a set for everyone.” Danielle said.

Kenji nodded once and walked to a metal rack against the wall. He returned moments later, arms loaded with equipment.

Earpieces, compact pistols, a small metallic disc with no visible markings. Kenji placed each set in front of them without ceremony.

“Standard field kit. Earpiece range is fifteen kilometers, pistols are Ashe-compatible and the disc is a frequency distortion device, ten-meter radius and can only be used once and lastly, spiritual residue detector.”

He stepped back, his blue lenses reflecting the overhead lights.

That was it, he gave no further explanation and no small talk either.

Sarah nudged Makun. “See? Quiet and reserved.”

Quiet and reserved was an understatement.

“Let us move out.” Danielle said.

…

Old Town Spring. 8:47 AM.

The town looked like a postcard.

Makun stepped out of the black SUV, boots crunching against gravel. Main Street stretched ahead, lined with wooden storefronts, antique shops, and a café with rocking chairs on its porch. Tourists wandered the sidewalks, cameras in hand.

He was actually excited, Sure, he never really showed or expressed it but the change that happened recently was one he actually liked. It gave him purpose, and a goal to look forward to.

This mission was the first step.

It was supposed to be easy, However Makun was still on full alert.

Nothing ever went well for him, he truly hoped this was not one of those cases.

“Listen up.” Danielle’s voice cut through his thoughts. “We split into pairs, Blend with the tourists. Observe the locals and note anything unusual.”

She pointed down the street.

“Sarah, Ray, take the café and the antique district. Makun, you are with me. We check the Whitehall and the Ice House.”

“And if we find something?” Makun asked.

“Report immediately, Never engage alone, it is a team mission, not a solo mission.” Her eyes swept across them. “We regroup at sunset, For deeper investigations.”

Ray stretched, coffee cup still in hand. “Café it is. Come on, Sarah, Let’s see if the ghosts serve decent breakfast.”

Sarah rolled her eyes but followed.

…

Makun checked the pistol at his waist, feeling its weight against his hip. It was still there and loaded

He followed Danielle down Main Street, matching her pace, watching how she moved. Her eyes was scanning every doorway, every alley, every face they passed.

He could tell she had activated her spirit eye, peering through layers of the veil to see if there was any sign of Mysticism.

He followed and took note of everything she did, that was his goal with this mission.

They had contact information for the victims’ families. Three addresses in Old Town Spring, two more in nearby neighborhoods. Danielle had assigned them the first interview: the mother of one of the missing children.

“When we get there, let me lead.” Danielle said without looking back. “You watch and listen, only interfere with my permission.”

“Understood.”

“These people are grieving, Interrogation wont work, instead we listen to them and provide them with warmth.” She paused at a crosswalk, checking both directions. “That is how you get them to talk, You give them space to remember.”

Makun filed the advice away.

Give them space to remember.

It was not like he expected someone as rigid as dianell to perform well with that task.

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