Neo-Vatra city, central district, Eidolon industries west coast branch.
The building towered over everything in its surroundings and could be seen from almost anywhere in the city, though most would never have the chance to see it up close.
The upper floors of the majestic work of architecture were reserved for high-ranking personnel. The corridors were wide and long with barely any decorations in sight, a minimalist approach that added to the eeriness of the silence enshrouding such places, making the walk to the conference rooms quite unnerving.
Veronica hated being forced to make such trips. She never voiced any complaints, however. She couldn't. Not if she wanted to keep her position and the benefits it provided. That said, it simply wasn't possible to remain stoic considering the reason she had to take that elevator today.
She found herself at the door of the conference room before long. Holding a hand to her chest, she breathed in deeply and took hold of her nerves. The idea of getting one of those emotional regulation implants appealed to her more and more by the day.
Entering, Veronica remembered to keep her head down the entire time. A spotlight fell on her from above and followed her every step. Everything beyond the small circle of light was shrouded in darkness, but if she were to look up, she would see twelve distinct insignia placed in a circle with even gaps between them. Only three of those insignia emitted a bright red glow.
"From the look on your face, I can assume the mission was a failure."
A gruff voice echoed in the dark room and Veronica broke into a cold sweat. She struggled to keep her voice from breaking as she delivered the news.
"Director Cohan has been found dead."
"That is irrelevant." Another voice spoke, this one soft and high-pitched, like that of a very young girl. "The item?"
"We failed to retrieve it."
Veronica had no idea what said item was, but one thing she knew was that it held great importance. Why would three of the corporation's founders be after it otherwise?
"That is… interesting." A third voice said, clearly belonging to a young man. "I believe we authorized the use of Number 75 in case of complications."
"Number 75… Number 75 has perished."
The silence that followed her statement felt much heavier than the last. The words might have come out of her mouth yet Veronica still found them difficult to believe.
Number 75, publicly known as Aegis, was one of Eidolon's masterpieces, a Level 5 Prime. He had the power to battle armies and topple nations in a single day. Someone like that was almost impossible to kill, yet when they tracked his last location, the only thing they found was a severed head and scattered chunks of meat.
Against her better judgment, Veronica decided to resume her report.
"Our investigation revealed that a small mercenary team led by a man named Gaspard was responsible for the theft of the item. Five of the six members, including the leader, had been eliminated by Number 75. The sixth is yet to be located, but we-"
"That is enough." The gruff voice said.
Veronica went rigid. She didn't sense any anger in the old man's words, but that didn't stop fear from consuming her.
"This matter is no longer a part of your responsibilities." The young girl said. "Work with the PR department to ensure what happened Number 75 is buried."
"... understood."
Bowing her head, Veronica turned around and left, doing her best to suppress the terror that urged her to run in the last few seconds.
The door closed and the conference room was once again enshrouded in darkness. Only the three insignia remained visible, floating several meters above the floor.
"... It found a host." The young man said.
"That seems to be the case." The old man sighed.
"There is no need for concern." The young girl said. "Even if they meet the minimum requirements, a baseline human can't draw out its true potential without risking death. All we have to do is isolate it before it can find a better host."
"Easier said than ." The young man scuffed. "We would have to find it first."
"No matter." The old man said. "We can't risk giving it the time to raise its current host."
Silence returned to the conference room. The young man shattered it after a couple of minutes.
"Since Number 75 has been eliminated, I believe finding the weapon should be left to us."
"You had your chance." The young girl said. "I will be handling the matter from now on."
"That's preposterous!"
"Your failure is what brought us here in the first place. You have no right to complain."
"As if you-"
"Enough." The old man's firm voice echoed in the darkness. "We no longer have the leeway to take turns. You can do it alone or you can work together. Just find the weapon before it becomes a thorn in our side."
~[ ]~
With a sharp gasp, Dante bolted upright, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked around frantically, trying to grasp his current situation.
He was on an old bed pressed in a corner somewhere. A sheet of cloth dangled from a cord on one side, serving as a simple curtain. Looking down, he noticed a thin tube attached to his hand with the other end connected to an IV bag hanging on the wall. That was when he realized he was inside The Clinic.
"Ouch…"
Pain assaulted his body when he tried to move. Pulling aside the blanket covering him, he found that both of his legs were encased in a cast. For a moment he didn't know what could've put him in such a state, but then scenes flashed in his mind and he saw a man in yellow effortlessly crush his bones.
He soon recalled everything that happened that night. He and the rest of Gaspard's crew accepted a job to steal a suitcase from a certain corpo. They had no trouble finishing it, but just as they fled the scene Flame Guard's Aegis appeared and massacred everyone beside him. Somehow, he had survived that carnage.
'Was it… a dream…?'
[I can tell you with utmost certainty it was not.]
Dante's heart almost jumped out of his chest. He began searching his surroundings for the source of the voice when he realized he hadn't spoken a single word.
[No, I certainly am not a figment of your imagination.] The voice replied despite him not voicing his thoughts.
'... Hello?'
[Greetings.]
Turns out the voice was indeed in his head, though not in a way that raised concern for his mental health.
[Indeed. I took the liberty of integrating with your Neural Interface Network to establish proper communications. Unfortunately, it was far too lacking so I had to perform some upgrades.]
'Wait, hold on…' Dante held his head with both hands feeling an oncoming headache. 'Who… what…'
[Our first contact came under strenuous circumstances so I do not fault you for not remembering.] The voice said. [Greetings. I am Volcan.]