A dramatic introduction rolled across the screen as the daily news channel Hottest News Todaybegan its broadcast. The polished globe logo spun into focus, casting a glow over the studio set, before disappearing to reveal the two hosts poised at their news desk. On the left sat a fair-skinned, brown-haired male anchor named Ankus, dressed in a sleek, dark suit with a serious expression that matched the gravity of the unfolding story. On his right sat Nikita, his co-anchor, with a bold look: her curly black hair fell around her shoulders, and her complexion was a striking bilge tone, complementing the deep red dress she wore. The dress, a form-fitting one-piece with a plunging surplice neckline, ended just above her knees, exuding an edgy sophistication that challenged traditional newsroom attire.
Ankus straightened his posture, his eyes locking onto the camera as he began the broadcast. "Good morning to everyone tuning in to Hottest news show, News Today," he announced smoothly, with a slight nod. "I'm your host, Ankus, and beside me is Nikita." He gave a quick nod to his co-host before refocusing. "Today, while many of us were embracing a fresh new day, some visitors at Nirvana Cliff found themselves facing something far from serene. Nirvana Cliff—a place renowned for its peace, its sense of calm—was unrecognizable this morning. What they saw was more reminiscent of a battleground. The rock plains that draw so many tourists have been completely destroyed—"
Nikita interjected, an expressive tilt of her head and a playful smirk interrupting his grave tone. "I think if we say 'destroyed,' it would be an understatement, Mr. Ankus," she countered, making a show of glancing at the viewers. "Tourist guides and reporters who've been there are saying it looks like a dozen comets rained down, leaving a massive crater." Her words punctuated the statement with a wide-eyed, exaggerated gesture, adding a dramatic flair that drew the viewers' attention.
The perspective gradually shifted, pulling back from the mobile screen to reveal David, seated comfortably in an armchair in Joseph's office at MeTube, holding his phone and watching the news. David's lips curled up in amusement as he followed the story's dramatized details, a chuckle escaping him as he thought back to last night's event. Just then, the door to Joseph's office swung open, and Joseph stepped into the room, his coat draped over his arm. He paused for a moment, taking in David's expression as he hung the coat on the back of his workbench chair.
Joseph narrowed his eyes, a playful smile hinting at his curiosity. "What's got you chuckling like that?"
David glanced up; his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, nothing… just admiring your artwork," he replied, a sly grin on his face.
Joseph chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he walked over. "Ah, I know—when I was young, my paintings were practically on par with the great painter Leonardo...," he spoke, his voice filled with pride.
But as he leaned over to glance at the news on David's screen, his cheerful expression faltered. The broadcast showed the crater at Nirvana Cliff from an aerial view, its depths casting dark shadows over the rock plains, now scattered in a jagged, craterous pattern. Joseph's smile faded, his face falling into a blank, unreadable stare.
The silence lingered, each moment stretching uncomfortably. David, catching Joseph's poker-faced reaction, couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. He burst into a loud, booming laugh, his hand slapping his thigh as he doubled over. "Bahaha!" His laughter echoed through the room, filling every corner.
After he'd laughed as much as he could, he straightened, wiping away tears as he mimicked Joseph's voice with a perfect impression. "Ah, I know—when I was young, my paintings were practically on par with the great painter Leonardo...," he said, his voice trailing off in a fit of chuckles. Joseph's initial look of annoyance softened, and soon he found himself smiling along, despite himself.
With a hint of sarcasm, Joseph replied, "Yeah, laugh it up. At least one of us was able to move enough to make art last night." The words hung in the air, a gentle jab at David's immobilized stance during last night's chaos, where he'd been rendered immobile while the Demon General manipulated time.
David crossed his arms, pouting in protest. "I was moving!" he argued, looking back at Joseph defiantly.
Joseph raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms to mirror David's stance. "Only when he allowed you to move!" he replied, amusement colouring his voice. "There's a difference, you know!"
David glared at him; eyebrows drawn in mock anger. But as he glanced around, something felt off. A quiet realization settled on him. His brow furrowed, and he glanced over at Joseph.
"Hey, isn't someone missing?" he asked, the question breaking through the light-heartedness of their conversation. "She's usually the first one in. It's not like her to be late…"
Joseph's expression shifted as he processed David's words. "Yeah… you're right," he murmured, glancing at the door as though expecting it to swing open any second. "Maybe it's traffic," he added, though a hint of worry crept into his voice.
David nodded slowly, humming in agreement. "Hmm, hmm…"
With a sigh, he turned his chair back to face the news, eyes flickering back to the crater on the screen, now displayed in a close-up view. The longer he watched, the more his initial amusement faded, replaced by a growing unease.
Meanwhile, in the downtown offices of High Ridge Law, Thomas sat surrounded by a sea of paperwork, his desk cluttered with files on high-profile cases and recent incidents around the city. His hands flipped through documents with practiced ease, but his mind was preoccupied, each thought threading together pieces of a puzzle that he couldn't quite complete.
"Thuck.."
His pen tapped rhythmically against the desk.
"Thuck"
Thomas thoughts raced like a Jett. "If I'm correct, every bit of evidence points to one conclusion," he mused silently, his jaw clenched. "There are demons breaching human territory. But why… and how?" His thoughts swirled around Joseph—an employee who had always been reliable, trustworthy, someone he'd come to value. Yet now, questions gnawed at the edges of his mind. "Could Joseph… somehow… be one of them? Or … related to it?" The idea was troubling, bordering on unthinkable. And yet, the evidence… the timing…
Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted as the door to his office swung open with a loud thud. He looked up sharply to see a young woman standing in the doorway, her hair long and straight, cascading down to her waist. Her skin was fair, her face framed in a pair of rectangular glasses, and her sharp features held a determined expression. She wore a formal white shirt, a deep blue blazer, a matching skirt, and a dark blue tie.
Her name tag read: Senior Reporter: Amayra.
She stepped into the office with purpose, her expression unreadable but intense. Thomas straightened, adjusting his posture as he prepared himself for whatever she was about to deliver.
Back in Joseph's office, the light-hearted atmosphere from earlier had all but vanished. The room, once filled with the subtle hum of conversation and the occasional chuckle, now felt strangely still. A heavy silence settled between the two men, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock mounted on the wall.
Joseph found himself glancing toward it more frequently, his fingers tapping absently against the polished surface of his desk. The digital numbers flickered slightly before stabilizing, each passing second intensifying the quiet tension gnawing at the pit of his stomach.
David, seated across from him, took note of the restless energy radiating from his friend. He wasn't even trying to hide it—Joseph's gaze kept drifting toward the door, his jaw tightening ever so slightly every time he checked the time. It was almost amusing to watch him this way—impatient, like an eager puppy waiting for its owner to return.
David leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "Maybe she just got held up," he offered casually, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "Traffic, or… you know, maybe she just stopped for coffee."
Joseph exhaled sharply, nodding as if to acknowledge David's words, but his expression remained tense. His eyes never left the door. His mind was already racing through countless possibilities—Was she caught up with something urgent? Had she decided not to come? Was she in trouble? The thought sent a small ripple of unease through him.
The soft glow of the desk lamp did little to chase away the shadows creeping into his thoughts. The minute hand shifted again—finally hitting 10 o'clock. But still, there was no sign of her.
A sense of dread settled over him like a slow-moving storm, each moment stretching unbearably longer than the last.
David observed the shift in Joseph's demeanor—the way his hands clenched slightly, the way his breathing became shallower. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before speaking again, this time with genuine concern. "Hey, I'm sure she's fine. If she's running in any trouble, she had made a call, right?"
Joseph didn't answer, and just gave a little nod. His phone sat idle on the desk, as Joseph looked on his phone.
The weight of unspoken questions lingered in the room, their presence as suffocating as the silence between them.
The morning had brought two uncalled questions—one gripping Joseph as he watched the clock, his unease growing with every passing second. The other had just stepped into Thomas's office, carried by none other than Senior Reporter Amayra—her eyes sharp, her presence deliberate, and the weight of an unspoken words resting on her lips.