Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s such a rare thing to dream in the City. The reason’s simple; dreams don’t tend to last. To put too much stock in a forlorn dream is to expose your heart and your faith to be broken, leaving nothing but regret and frustration where it used to be.

Whether it be to find your way into the comforting embrace of a Wing in its Nest, to make a name for yourself as a rising star of a Fixer, or even to find someone in this miserable world that you would spend the rest of your life alongside, one can lament it all they like, but that doesn’t change the fact’s validity that the dreams of the Cityfolk are doomed to end in tragedy.

That's what everyone says, and to be candid, I don't think they're entirely wrong. In a place like the City where people and dreams left and right, it's only logical that the people you care about aren't exempt from that toll that so many others have to pay. I've known that for as long as I can remember, better than almost anyone I know. I know that they're right, and I hate that I do.

But why does it have to be that way? Why have we become so desensitized to the phenomena that we're afraid to ever reach out to our fellow human, that we're afraid to even attempt to embrace each other? I just... don't understand the real reason.

The beep of my microwave interrupts my thoughts, as I get up from my sofa without realizing it, and I'm holding my cup noodles in my hand just as quickly. I sit back down and start eating after it cools, staring blankly into the cup. The taste is slightly muted by the heat, but I didn't feel like waiting any longer. It's not long until I'm done, and I'm staring at the cover of a book I've read twice now.

Just as I think about reaching for my reading glasses, a knock at my apartment door draws my attention. I make soundless steps towards the door, more out of habit than anxiety. If anyone was knocking, it was most likely the Director checking up again. Just to be safe, I sneak a glance through the peephole, and surprisingly there's nobody to greet me.

I carefully open the door, and a simple white envelope lays at my feet, atop a small package. I pick it up, heading back inside and locking my door again. My thumb nail's enough to open the letter, the letter that I nearly dropped as soon as I caught a glimpse of the very first line of text, and what was next to that text.

I immediately fetch my reading glasses to make sure I'm reading everything right, and I still see the same logo that I know the new L Corp by, and text that states, "Dear Emyakeu, after review of your application, it has been evaluated that you are qualified to work as an Agent in Lobotomy Corporation. Attached is a package containing a Nest Migration Permit, a WARP Train ticket, and a map leading to the main facility where you will work starting next week."

It was almost unthinkable to be reading this letter in anything but a dream. Of all the places I was approved to work at, it was one of my desperate, last-ditch applications at a Wing. And the fact that it was the new energy producing company that was guaranteed to fill in the void left by the old L Corp meant that it was likely going to pay well, even by the standards of a Wing.

I take my time reading the rest of the letter, until I reach the bottom that read, "P.S. You will need to undergo certain minor augmentations to your eyes before you arrive, as losing your reading glasses when they're most needed is ill-advised." ...That threw me for a loop for a moment. Did I ever state I wore reading glasses?

I breathe a sigh of relief. It still didn't feel real. Another knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. "Hey, Em, ya in there?" I hear a voice that I instantly recognize call for me, as I have to pull myself back to reality for a moment. I return to the door, opening it to the taller man who blinks in surprise before letting out a small laugh. "Oh, wow, that was faster than I expected. Get some good news or something? You look way better today."

"Director- ah, Seiro. Still getting used to that, sorry." I correct myself from my usual response, before looking him up and down. He's in a simple getup consisting of a dark grey suit with a gold tie, nothing like how he usually dresses. He looks less disheveled than usual, his black hair in a more neat ponytail than I'm used to, and he finally committed to actually shaving his face instead of that unbearable half-shave he had for weeks.

"You aren't in uniform? Don't tell me you got yourself fired." I ask with a sigh.

Seiro snorts in response. "I'm not that incompetent, cut me some slack, kid. My uniform is back at the Association, I'm just making a quick trip here while I'm in the area. You didn't answer my question, though. Seriously, I haven't seen that look on our face since..." his voice trailed off at about the same time that I felt myself deflate slightly. "Nevermind that, I'm sorry." Seiro rubbed the back of his neck.

"...You're fine. You are right in your perception, though. Come in, it won't take long." I motion for Seiro to follow me, and it doesn't take long for me to get some coffee going, and as soon as it's in his hands and I start talking, it's an almost instantaneous reaction for him to nearly spit it all in my face. "AT WHERE?!"

I lower my hands as soon as I think I'm in the clear. "You heard me right the first time. But... I almost don't know. If I take this offer, it's unlikely I'll be able to come back to the Association at all. I know what you told me when my license was suspended, that the doors would be open when I was deemed ready to come back. But this offer..."

"It's a once in a lifetime chance." Seiro finishes my sentence just as my voice goes quiet. "Listen, Emyakeu, I know what I said before, and I mean it. Regardless of anything else, you've always got a place with us, but you know that this isn't an opportunity you can just pass up. You don't need to ask me when the answer's written on your face." He grins with an encouraging look in his eyes as he pats me on the shoulder. "The only way I'd get angry at you is if you focused on us rather than on you. We won't be working your job, kid. This is your life, we didn't take you in because we would only accept future Fixers, our doors were open to everyone."

I nod with a small smile that it took me a moment to realize was on my face. "Thanks, Seiro. I mean that, really. If I ever do return to the Association, I hope you'd have gotten that promotion by then." I stifled a chuckle. "Maybe I'd be Director then..."

"You're becoming a Feather, and you're already entertaining the idea of lowering yourself to my lowly station as a backup. The least you could do after that is shoot for Section 3, you know." Seiro responds dryly, though it's certainly not with any malice. He looks up from his coffee. "Now, you should get ready, yeah? The WARP Trains are still running, if you wanna make a quick break to District 12. Hell, I'll help you pack your stuff."

I scoff and bite back a laugh. "You're definitely just saying that because you're glad you don't have to cover my rent anymore." Seiro throws his hands up in response, but I notice he doesn't reply. "That aside, that'd be great. Thanks for the help, Seiro. I'm sure you know of a few things that I'd like help with getting packed."

Seiro gives a knowing nod, and rolls his shoulders with anticipation. "Any time, kid. I'm sure you can handle the rest after I help get a few things." He says, and about 5 minutes later, most of what I need is together on my miniature dining table that I finally have a use for. Seiro makes to the other room before his phone goes off and he looks towards me sheepishly. "...I may have meandered on a bit too long. I have to get going."

I give a grateful nod. "Thanks for your help, Seiro. I'll probably be gone by the time you stop by tomorrow, so, just to make sure," I walk towards him and pull him down into a hug. "Thanks for everything, old man."

He happily returns the gesture, patting me on the shoulder. "I'm always happy to help, kid. I know things have been rough, so I want you to know I'm rooting for you out there. I've got faith in you."

"Thank you."

I watch him leave, and quickly get to gathering the rest of my things and getting ready for departure. I've got everything that I can put in my suitcase, which, fortunately, is about everything that isn't furniture. I take one last look at my bathroom mirror, and a quick look at the scissors I've got in my hand.

My hair's a mess. I can't remember the last time I brushed it, and the braid feels like a nightmare now. It's a shame. I used to love it, but now, I'll probably need something that's a bit easier to maintain. I give a small sigh as I start snipping away at the knots, and with a few minutes of brushing and combing, I look at the mirror with a much more satisfied look on my face.

I step back towards the door. I spare a glance back to my apartment just before I close it for the final time, but I don't have it in me to feel anything significant. It wasn't the place I really considered home, anyway. Even if that home is nothing but ash and cinders now, it was still going to be the place I missed the most.

I couldn't think anything but, when it was there that I made those memories with her.

Chapter Text

The trip to L Corp. was surprisingly uneventful, despite the non-negligible number of people that had likely received the same invitation as I had. Even though I knew the WARP Train had the ability to get from Point A to Point B shockingly quickly, I still couldn't help but find the speed of the process astonishing. I suppose that's the power of Singularities for you, baffling and possibly even frightening to the people who don't get how they work... though it's probably better that way, if you ask me.

These thoughts about tech and Singularities run through my head as I'm stepping through the halls of the facility I find myself in. It's remarkably spacious for a place that's entirely underground, seemingly save for when employees are allowed inside. I have to wonder how deep this place goes, looking around the muddy-colored corridor. The occasional green screen and bronze pipe infrastructure interrupt the admittedly irritating color, until I find myself to a particular room that stands out.

The door opens for me, and when I enter, I'm met by a handful of people standing at attention, and a mechanical being with a box-shaped body standing ahead of them. They're holding a clipboard and pen, and the glowing yellow sphere that I realize is an eye directs itself right at me. "Ah, your suit! You're Agent #2, I presume?" I hear a feminine voice query with a bright inflection. I nod without an immediate response. I'm still a bit hung up on what I'm seeing. It's one thing for a person to have prosthetic limbs, that isn't so uncommon in the City, but seeing what I assume is a full body prosthetic is a bit of a shock to the system.

"Y-Yes, that's right, I believe. I was told I'd be hired as an Agent here, so that would add up." I add, after raising my head from a slight bow.

The... person in front of me moves her body slightly downward in what I believe is a reciprocal nod. "Good, now please come forward, you're just in time for the briefing! We're still waiting on Agent #1, while you've arrived at precisely half of the allotted waiting time." She replied, before her hand holding the pen gestured inward, beckoning me to approach as ordered.

I obey without complaint, standing ahead of the small crowd that I assumed were people below my station given where I stood and their matching uniforms contrasting my own. "Perfect. Since Agent #1 has been through this process already, there should be no issues in beginning orientation for you and the new Clerks. For starters, welcome to Lobotomy Corporation. We are an energy collecting company, as some of you may have been told. I am the Sephirah of the Control Team that you all are a part of, and you may call me Malkuth." She begins, her optic scanning over everyone in front of her.

"I am an Artificial Intelligence made to supervise the operations of the Department and ensure that we are consistently operating at maximum efficiency," Malkuth continues as I feel my mind briefly grind to a complete standstill.

She's an AI? That shouldn't be possible. Artificial Intelligence certainly exists in the City, but it's regulated by the AI Ethics Amendment, a rule set by the Head that absolutely cannot be disobeyed, that while AI may exist in the City, it must not possess sapience equal to or above humans. And Malkuth stands before me, even if briefly, passing off as a human with a unique prosthetic. If the Head caught wind of this...

Malkuth seems to notice the blood draining from my face as she interrupts her speech. "Is something wrong, Agent #2? Your face has become a degree paler, and you look out of focus." I hear her ask. I try everything I can to shake it off to avoid making a scene. "N-No. I'm alright." I lie, and focus my gaze back on the Sephirah, even if that revelation still unsettles me beyond words.

She writes down on her clipboard as she makes a small hum of acknowledgement. "Try to maintain your focus for the rest of orientation, what I'm going to tell you is incredibly important." She warned lightly, and I give another nod as I fold my arms in expectation, the side of my index finger rising to my lower lip.

"Right, then. As I mentioned, Lobotomy Corporation is an energy collecting company, and to carry out that duty with effectiveness, Employees of the company are assigned one of two roles, Clerks like the ones behind you file paperwork for the Corporation and tend to the facility proper, while Agents such as yourself, Agent #2, are how we collect our energy." Malkuth paused for just a moment as if she were taking a breath, her eye focused on me all the while.

"You will gather energy by working with entities known as Abnormalities. These Abnormalities are kept contained in the units you will visit them in, and you will interact with them according to their desires and needs, which you'll find out through those interactions, assigned to 1 of 4 Work Types. With me so far?"

I nod, following along with her explanation, although my proper comprehension of it is limited only to what the work processes entail. Instinct, Insight, Attachment, and Repression all involve different procedures, ranging from tending to an Abnormality's physicality, tending to their surroundings, tending to their emotional needs, and attempting to restrain its desires and 'purpose of existence', something I don't get full clarification on, in that order.

I imagine whatever Abnormalities are will become more easy to understand with proper experience, as she doesn't seem interested in explaining what they are in depth. "When you achieve an ideal result while working with an Abnormality, they'll release Enkephalin, our flagship product, which is boxed and then refined. As well, and very importantly, Abnormalities also have unique Enkephalin that can be used to extract equipment known as E.G.O." Malkuth continues, and my interest is piqued.

She clearly notices my intrigue as she continues speaking. Apparently, E.G.O. is a name for special armaments that are generated by an Abnormality, which are made into gear and weapons for an Agent to wear. This provides us with a heightened resistance to damage that could be sustained when working with an Abnormality, or handling what she calls a suppression.

A brief silence allows me to ask a question that her information brought to me. "Could you explain what exactly suppressions entail?" I query, as she nods, likely having anticipated the question. "I'm glad you asked! Abnormalities may not respond well if you don't properly complete a work assignment, and thus they may be compelled to breach their containment unit. When that happens, your most common method of returning them to their containment will be through force, and I highly advise that you don't think of holding back on them, as they are capable of causing intense bodily harm and death very easily if you aren't prepared."

...Oh. I can't help but deflate at hearing that, which, yet again, she appears to pick up on. Are my reactions really that predictable? "However, using your E.G.O. and knowledge of the Abnormality's weaknesses, suppression is by no means an impossible task, especially when taken on with multiple Agents. I have plenty of faith that you'll be able to carry out your duties. You are in the most important Department, after all!" Malkuth adds happily, whether to cheer me up, or to pride herself for her role, it's admittedly difficult to tell.

It's at about this time that I hear approaching footsteps, and Malkuth's gaze briefly travels past me, onto the newcomer. Her eye sharpens with clear annoyance. "Well, Agent #1, good to see you've finally turned up, about 10 seconds before you would be considered late." I turn my head as she directs her attention to the supposed other Agent, and most of the Clerks follow in turn.

Standing in the center of the room with a relaxed posture is a tall person wearing a peculiar ensemble, consisting of a midnight blue suit beneath a gray vest and maroon plates of armor on their torso, shoulders, and knees. Stranger still is the crimson crown of thorns on their head, looking like it should be digging into their skin, yet drawing no blood, and probably not painful due to the easygoing smile on their face and eyes that almost looked closed from this distance. Lastly, a cross-shaped cudgel with a center resembling a skull with a similar thorned crown to theirs rests at their hip, and the color of the outfit and weapon are practically identical.

An unusual ensemble and a weapon that looks just as outlandish... if I were a guessing person, I'm almost confident that's the E.G.O. gear that Malkuth was talking about. The E.G.O. wearer gives a light, embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry, Miss Malkuth. Since it was a lecture I'd listened to before, I figured I could take my time a little more than usual today. I was punctual yesterday, wasn't I?~" They reply with an airy tone, not exactly bothered by Malkuth's mild scolding.

Malkuth doesn't seem particularly convinced by their response, jotting down something on her clipboard again. "Yesterday was the first day you had working for the Corporation, so I hope you'll forgive me in saying that's a very small sample size. As you weren't late though, I can't reprimand you with anything other than my slight disappointment. Your demonstration of E.G.O. could have been helpful to our new Agent's understanding of its usage." She criticized, and the Agent tilts their head, their olive-colored hair bouncing a little as they do so. "New Agent?"

Their head turned to me as their eyebrows raised with intrigue, quickly striding up to me. "Hoh! Well, this is lovely. I'm Marinel, first Agent here as you probably gathered by now, it's a pleasure." They lean down and outstretch their hand, which I gently shake.

"Emyakeu, it's good to meet you." I respond. Marinel appears satisfied by my admittedly lukewarm greeting, and stand aside as Malkuth resumes talking, making a sound that resembles someone clearing their throat. "Well! Now that you've gotten acquainted, I should state for the both of you that there will be files on the Abnormalities to study up on in the future, which are naturally gathered by observations done through work sessions. You'll find one on O-03-03 for point of reference, just so you know what to expect."

I nod along, returning my attention to her briefing. "If I may ask another question, how often will we be seeing new Abnormalities? Also, who's in charge of updating Abnormality files with new data?" I interject when I perceive a lull in her speech. "That's two questions, but I'm happy to answer both!" Malkuth nods approvingly. "For one, you'll encounter new Abnormalities every 4 days of your 50 day contract, most often one at a time. And as for who'll update the files, that'll be done by you two with small contributions from myself and the Manager's Secretary, Miss Angela, until the Information Team is ready to open up, after which the duty will fall to them and their Sephirah."

I couldn't help but appreciate her thoroughness in her explanation, despite the vague handhold-y feeling of it all. Any type of knowledge is incredibly valuable, but pivotal information on creatures capable of such destruction is of the utmost importance. "Thank you very much, Miss Malkuth." I bow my head shallowly with acknowledgement.

Her optic changes into a crescent shape as she puts a clawed hand where her cheek would be. "Oh, it's no trouble at all. Assuming it helps you perform your duties with as much efficiency as possible, then I'm glad to answer almost any question, whenever you feel the need to ask it."

"That said!" Malkuth returned to her more professional tone and posture. "If there are no more questions, then orientation may be concluded for you, and you may begin to start the work day while I continue with the Clerks." I couldn't say I had any other questions, so I simply gave a nod of tacit understanding. Marinel remains silent, their smile never wavering. I couldn't help but wonder if it was their resting face or something along those lines.

"Perfect! You two may be excused, and I wish you luck in your time here." The Sephirah chirps cheerfully, watching as Marinel and I departed the room. "And anything you need more clarity on will likely be in the files!"

Despite the help she offered in explaining most of the basics to me, my mind can't help but replay the words she spoke at the very start of her speech. An Artificial Intelligence is the head of my Department, and if my suspicions prove correct, but one of many.

A score of sentient AI might call this facility home for all I know, and to break one of the Head's foremost taboos so flagrantly could mean nothing but trouble. Yet when I look at Marinel, I see a face that doesn't register that concern at all or is just too in it for the money to care.

Just what the hell is this place? And what have I gotten myself into?

Chapter Text

After navigating my way through the multiple homogeneous hallways with Marinel's help, we're in a more unfamiliar one with a larger door at the end as we walk in relatively equal pace. Leisurely, Marinel turns to me. "Say, Emyakeu, let's make a bet. Who do you think'll be the first to work on the new Abnormality today?" They ask.

I raise my eyebrow at the sudden question. "What would we even be wagering? I don't see why it wouldn't be you, regardless. You're the more experienced one, so I imagine I'd get work with the Abnormality that's already got a file to its name... er, designation, rather." I answer obviously.

Marinel nods with an amused look on their face. "I see... well, we'll say whoever's right has to do the work of updating the Abnormality's file for the day. Naturally, I'll bet it's you doing the work." They counter.

"Hey, I didn't even agree to the bet yet, at least give me a minute to think about it." I couldn't help but sigh, and Marinel clicks their tongue in response while waving their finger. "Ah-ah, but you did, as soon as you made your bet~ If you want to call off the bet, you'll need to catch me first." They jab with an instigating grin.

I can't help but scrunch my eyebrows with confusion. "So you'd want me to chase you through the corridor like a couple of childre- wha- hey!" I interrupt myself as Marinel promptly takes off running, baffled by how they breeze past where they stood just a second ago.

I stare off after them, including when they reach the end of the hallway and turn to me, their smile smug and waving a single hand.

"...Do they think I'm going to make such an ass of myself on my first day here?" I couldn't help but mutter under my breath as I sigh. "I'll take the damn bet, fine..." I follow their path into a large, beige-colored room with countless screens along the walls, most of which are projections depicting hallways and corridors that Clerks are beginning to pass through.

Marinel's voice chimes in, "Welcome to the Control Team, we mostly supervise the facility and devise immediate suppression responses, or so I heard from Malkuth. As soon as the day starts, we'll probably be getting orders from the Manager. Those things are our instructions on what Abnormality we're working with and what type of work we'll be doing. You should probably study up on the files while we're here. They're on that PDA thing you picked up on your way in, but Abno files need to be written out as documents and submitted before they're approved and included in the database." 

Well, I'm not going to pass up the opportunity to improve my knowledge of what I'm working with. Malkuth's explanation was certainly informative, but I have a distinct feeling that leaving any stone unturned is a shortsighted move that'll come back to bite me. Then again, maybe that's just my Fixer experience talking. I sit myself down at one of the desks and quickly begin sifting through the wealth of information at my fingertips, rereading over and over again while I wait. It sounds like a lengthy process, but it's over in about 10 minutes, fast reader that I pride myself on being.

It's about as soon as I'm finished that I hear someone clearing their throat, and turn my head to see a Clerk with crossed arms and a light frown. "I, ah, hate to bug you, but that's my desk." She says.

"Ah, sorry, I was in a bit of a rush to read up on everything." I apologize before quickly making way for her as she gives me a forgiving and appreciative nod.

As I pass by her, I overhear a conversation between two Clerks as they're looking vaguely in my direction. "So that's the new Agent, huh?" One whispers, looking curiously towards the other.

"Looks that way, yeah. But I didn't expect them to be so... you know..." He leans in to the other, attempting to whisper to them in turn, "...short?"

My head snaps over to them and my face contorts into a challenging scowl before I even think of a proper response. Not that it would have been any different from my knee-jerk display, regardless. The Clerks almost instantly look away from me, and then each other as they silence themselves, then finally looking in opposite directions.

Marinel slides their way over to me, preparing to open their mouth which I'll gladly jam this baton into if they say what I think they will , before a voice over the intercom states simply, "All Employees, prepare to begin energy collection."

A small beep from the PDA in my pocket makes my face grow stony as I rigidly grab it from my pocket and hold it in my hand. 'Begin Insight Work with O-O2-56, head down the right hallway and look for the denoted containment unit.' I can see, hear, and feel Marinel's stupid smile without even looking at them.

I distract myself from them by quickly excusing myself into the hall with a clipboard and small garbage bag in either hand. Insight Work doesn't seem like a terrible idea to start out with researching an Abnormality, ascertaining its ideal living situation is a straightforward yet likely effective way to make it grow more docile and less likely to breach. I pass by a containment unit before finding my way to the corresponding label, and press the ID I was issued against a scanner.

The door slides open to reveal a small, plump bird with a blueish beak and a red spot on its stomach that aims its beady eyes far up at me when I enter. It's remarkably barren, though I suppose that's to be expected when I'm the first person to walk in here, save for whoever put the Abnormality in here in the first place. A few feathers lay around it, but it wouldn't be a hassle to clean it up. "Hello there." I say simply, and the bird tilts its head lazily in response. "You've shed a few feathers here and there, I notice. Would you like me to clean them up?"

In any other circumstance I would feel supremely stupid for believing that a bird could comprehend human speech, but I imagine Abnormalities behave differently than ordinary avians, shot in the dark though it might be. The small bird gives no sign of refusal, so I take that as a sign I'm good to continue with the cleaning. When I make my way to the first feather, I hear the sound of fluttering, and look up to see the bird beginning to descend towards my head. When it lands, it does so gently, though I still feel the faint feeling of talons on my scalp.

A palmful of feathers later, and the room is clean, yet the bird remains where it is. I have a feeling it doesn't just like the way the top of my head feels, so I turn to my second theory. "Hmm... Do you like high places, perhaps? I am here to assess how to make you more comfortable here, so if you'd like anything added, that can easily be done." I continue questioning, and I hear a small flutter of wings as a response, yet it does not leave my head. "Would that be a yes?" I ask before it flutters again.

It flutters once more, this time departing from my head and flittering around an area in the back of the room in the rough approximation of a circle, then hopping to the epicenter of that circle and staring at me. When I make my way closer, I nod with a growing feeling of understanding. "Ah, so you'd like something here, then?" I realize.

Its head perks up slightly, and I have to wonder. If this thing came from somewhere and would like somewhere to perch itself, it leaves a few possible options. Though, the idea I have to confirm just what it would prefer... makes me feel silly. It's not like there's much time to think of any ways that don't make me look like a fool.

I breathe in a sigh and prepare to swallow my pride as I walk to the middle of the circle beyond the thick, painted stripe in the middle of the room, something I take a mental note of.

Despite how it'd look, I read that Agents aren't entirely disallowed to pass this border, otherwise things like Instinct Work wouldn't exactly be possible. Rather, it's a mere cautionary line for the Agent that signifies the closest an Agent can get to the Abnormality on the other side without risk to themself.

That said, given this one's complete lack of aggression and insistent demeanor, it seems safe enough to cross in this instance.

The bird flutters out of my way when I stand just a foot or two in front of it, and when I make it to where it was sitting, I stand in a way that I can only say embarrasses me to do so.

My legs are closed together and my posture is crooked in the most awkward ways I can manage, trying my best to force my body to mimic the shape of a gnarled old tree I remember seeing in a book I read when I was a child. I hold an arm out horizontally, and the small bird lands on the back of my hand, before its head turns back to me.

It seems more animated than before, hopping around on the space the length and width of my arm allows for it to. "It isn't a real tree, but I hope this is good enough for the time being." I try giving a smile, hoping that if this isn't the shape it wants, it's something simple and far less shameful to imitate like a lamppost.

Fortunately, it puffs its feathers and shakes itself with satisfaction, fluttering again and clicking its beak in a notable show of satisfaction. I can't help but feel a tinge of pride at figuring out the puzzle. "Is this the sort of perch you'd like? I'll see what we can do for you, then."

The bird briefly closes its eyes and pecks lightly at a feather that seems looser than the others, and appears content. When the pose I've assumed begins to grow uncomfortable, I ask, "Could I change my pose a little, now...?" The bird quickly opens its eyes starts pecking me in the hand as I can't help but cringe at the sudden pain. "Ack-! Ow, okay, okay, got it, I'll stay like that until we're done, then. Haah..." I sigh, and it quickly stops pecking. It didn't seem angry enough to aim to draw blood, but it was certainly keen on maintaining its position of ideal comfort. "I'm gonna need to write down some notes, though. Bear with me 'till I'm done?"

It's about a minute after the bird flaps its way onto my head and I'm finished with my notes that I get another notification from my PDA that states I'm free to leave the containment unit. I relay that I need to leave to the Abnormality, and it seems to understand, fluttering back to where it originally was, only looking at me with a far more expectant gaze than I had first seen it with. I leave the containment unit and move back to the main room of the Department, where Malkuth and Marinel are both waiting for me.

"Ah, Agent #2! Your work with O-02-56 is complete for now, and I feel the need to congratulate you for a job well done!" Malkuth cheers, clearly impressed by whatever impressive thing I'd managed to do.

"Oh, ah, thank you, Miss Malkuth." I can't help but feel a little nervous at the praise. "I only did what I could to communicate with the Abnormality. The details of my report are written down here."

I stretch my arm forward with the paper I wrote on while I was working, which Malkuth takes with an affirmative nod. "It's not exactly common to get so close to a perfect work result with your first session, I'm a little surprised it didn't peck you more than it did."

I scratch my chin. "Well, I read its body language before I began getting up close and personal, and confirmed it has some semblance of awareness of human speech when I asked it about adjustments to its environment, although I'm unsure if its knowledge is extensive or not. That'll likely be something to handle in a later work session, though." I explain. "If you can find a tall branch that matches my description for it to perch itself upon, I'm confident it would be much more content and easy to work with."

Marinel puts their hand on their cheek thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you have some sort of history with animals? You sound confident in the way you read its body language." They query.

"I took care of a colleague's bird when it broke its wing a few years ago, and discovered an affinity for taking care of it and understanding what it would likely want at any given time while it was on the mend."

Malkuth hums with satisfaction. "Makes sense! Well, at any rate, keep up the good work, Agent #2! And I'll be sure to put in a request for the perch you mentioned. If this result is anything to go off of, you've got some potential to be an excellent asset to the Corporation!" Finished speaking, Malkuth left with my report, heading to where I presume her office was, thus leaving Marinel and myself.

Marinel tilts their head, their short, fluffy hair bouncing slightly as they look at me with a curious expression and a whistle. "A near-perfect result, huh? That's real impressive, even I made a couple of slip-ups when I was doing Attachment Work with One Sin the first time." They muse.

I rub the back of my head a bit, a bit embarrassed after hearing that twice now. "I don't know what you want me to say, really. I already gave my idea on why it went so well to Miss Malkuth."

Marinel shrugs. "Well, you got the Abnormality its main wish in that moment, and it didn't get annoyed enough with you to start plucking at that big hair tuft you got there." They gingerly poke at a section of my bangs that was lifted up compared to the other, more flat half. "While we're on the topic of birds, it looks kinda like the comb of a rooster, now that I look at it more closely."

"I'm going to punch you."

"As long as you're not smacking me in the face with that baton, I'll take what I can get." Marinel teases with a chuckle. A beep from their PDA tells me that they've received a Work order. "Ah, Attachment with... Small Bird." The disappointment on their face was palpable as they stare at me. "That's really all you could come up with, huh."

"It just felt right. I thought of something like Crimson-Heart Dove, but that sounds more like the name for an actual animal, rather than an Abnormality." I try to justify, and Marinel shakes their head with a sigh. "Still, though... Well, I'll be off, then. I imagine the day'll be done after this, especially if you're called in on One Sin, but I'd rather wrap this up then have to keep the work day going any longer than I have to. I'll be sure to make use of the observations you did!"

When they depart, I'm left alone for a while, which I take the time to peruse the files again and check up on the new files of Small Bird, along with reading up on the other Abnormality, One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds... a bit wordy, honestly, I can get why Marinel shortens it instead.

Speaking of them, their observations seem to be pretty exceptional in their thoroughness, despite how much of a layabout they come off as. The most common work process is Attachment, and is gone about by confessing a sin. In the event I'm assigned to work on it, that'll probably be what I have to do.

...I'm almost relieved I don't hear a notification from the device in my hand as I let my arm lower for a second. I couldn't tell you exactly why, besides that I don't know where I'd really begin in such a scenario. I'm no monster, at least I hope I'm not, but I feel confident that the countless failings and mistakes I've made wouldn't keep the creature bored.

A weighted sigh escapes my lips as I'm in my thoughts for enough time that I can't retroactively measure, and the sound of approaching footsteps prevents me from dredging up any more of those memories.

I turn to see Marinel with a contented look on their face. "Wow, how long was that? I don't think I was in its unit for nearly as long as you were." I ask, utterly perplexed at the difference in time.

"Oh, that? Multiple work sessions. I think I've harvested a sizeable enough amount of energy from it that we should be good for today." Marinel answers, giving a flippant wave of their hand. "I think I did a fairly good job with the observations you had in place, and I got the perch to the unit with the help of a Clerk." They gesture to the Clerk I spoke to earlier, watching a monitor at her desk before she gives me a tacit nod of greeting and returns to her duties. "In fact, I think we'll get our announcement in 3, 2, 1..."

"Daily energy quota has been met. Commencing energy refinement. All Employees are free to retire for the day."

"That's the sign that the work day is over, huh? I have to admit, I'm surprised at how quick that was." I can't help but remark.

Marinel hums with amusement. "That's probably a sign that the days will get longer, if you ask me. The day was over quicker yesterday, in fact, and One Sin doesn't generate quite as much energy as Small Bird does. Depending on how many Agents are working simultaneously, the work day will probably be faster still. It wouldn't surprise me if we had to deal with overtime in the hopes of both storing even more energy to sell to other Wings, and having more unique Enkephalin to extract more E.G.O. Having a bunch of Agents only means so much when half of them would turn into warm cheese if an Abno sneezed on them a bit too hard."

I raise my eyebrows at their explanation. "I can barely believe you're the same person who challenged me to a race down a corridor on my first day at a Wing when you say things that are actually reasonable."

Marinel snorts and cracks their neck, looking ahead of them instead of at me as I see their smile briefly fade. "Honestly, my gut tells me to just cut loose rather than maintain a rigid sense of formality. I know you've read up on the stuff we'll probably be dealing with later on, and just how dangerous those things really are. I might as well make sure I can express every side of myself that I'm fond of when I'm as likely to die horribly as I was to forget breakfast before I got here."

They turn to me with a hand on their hip. "You were in and out of it the whole time you were in orientation. I can only guess you had the same thoughts about Malkuth as I did. Don't think I didn't notice, regardless of how long I was there."

A lopsided grin returns to their face. "With that and everything ahead in mind, any day we wake up ought to be considered a blessing with the death and misery that might be waiting for us. You should remember that for your own good, but it's up to you on what you'll do with that knowledge."

...I don't know what to say at first to the surprising show of pessimism and... encouragement? "Th-thank you, I guess." I force out, to a playful nudge and a teasing grin from Marinel. "Ah, don't worry. I've got good faith that you won't do too terribly in the long term. You can keep sitting there if you like, but you'll miss eating if you sit there any longer. See you!~" They wave, and with graceful strides, they're gone.

Even as I get up to follow their path, I couldn't help but admit the words Marinel shared with me were genuine in every way I could perceive. What I'll do with that knowledge, huh...?

My mind turns back to the experiences I had, the life I lived before I found myself here. There are so many things from then that I wish I could have fixed, things I could have done differently. So, so many things that I could change that would have made sure I never needed to turn to this place, even if it's not the worst it could be quite yet.

But I am here now. If I blind myself to that, then thinking of those wretched memories loses all of its meaning. What I could have changed means nothing in the face of what I can change. From the moment I looked my reflection in the eyes in that gray, musty apartment, after the night that took my everything from me, I knew that giving in and surrendering myself out of guilt wasn't what I wanted. She wouldn't have wanted it either.

I can't help but dwell on Marinel's casual mention of the ever-creeping possibility of death that they'd find in this place. They talked about it like it was inevitable, like they didn't even expect to see themself at the end of these 50 days.

I wonder what they'd experienced to make that resignation so apparent. That thinking invites the all too likely idea that they won't be the only one thinking such a thing. It reminds me so much of what I thought when I was at the lowest point I've ever been in the days that came after that night. A squad of Agents who expect nothing more than death at the end of the road are doomed to find it if nobody did anything to give them hope.

...Yeah. That's what I'll have to do, then. I have to bring them all hope, I have to make sure they survive, so they don't have to meet the same fate as everyone that came before.

I can't ever let that happen again. I at least owe them that much.

Chapter Text

When I awoke the day following my first, I found myself thinking over a particular routine while I was in the middle of doing whatever came to mind. After a bit of deliberation amidst my haphazard attempt at preparing for the day, I devised a plan that simply consisted of 'Shower, brush hair, style hair, brush teeth, put on equipment, eat breakfast, quietly lament that steps 4 and 6 can't be swapped due to scheduling'.

Before I departed for the cafeteria, I stopped by a locker stationed directly next to my room. A card containing a code was slipped under my door while I slept, which I intuited was the code to open the locker, a hypothesis that was quickly proven correct as it opened automatically following my input.

Standing in front of me was a sleek, snow white suit, surrounded by crimson plates of armor and padding in the clothing itself. Next to it, a club similar to the one I saw with Marinel was held facing downwards, allowing me to grab the helve without any trouble. It was heavy, but not to a degree where it could be considered unwieldy.

As soon as I had a firm grip of it, I heard a faint, yet calm voice speak in my mind. 'To be willing to accept punishment for a sin is half the atonement.'

From what I read and heard from Marinel and Malkuth yesternight, E.G.O. gear, while providing strength and skill typically beyond one's own innate abilities, carried fragments of an Abnormality's will within. As such, you aren't fighting with only your own willpower, and must make sure that your will remains yours, rather than the Abnormality's.

Taking the E.G.O. suit itself into my room and changing into it, I found another mental voice speaking out to me, similar to the first. 'It is our obligation to punish a sin, so that those who commit such misdeeds never do so again.'

I managed to tune the E.G.O. gear out, and set out for the cafeteria, following the path of Clerks to make absolute sure I was going the right way, letting memory from last night verify the path all the while.

I heard that the cafeteria wasn't fully opened yet as of yesterday morning, which did leave me wondering what Marinel had been up to before they made their entrance. Though, the use of the word 'fully' probably meant they were at least able to get a bite to eat before heading into the orientation room.

Now, though, I find myself walking through the still slightly unfamiliar space and settling at a table in the middle of the angled cafeteria, where I get a perfect view of two Agents I've never seen before walking through the same door, barely half a foot away from each other, practically in each other's faces.

"You can't be serious." One of them exasperates, as I realize they're just arguing. She has long, black hair that falls to about her mid-back, and is shorter than the other by about 2 or so inches. "You're getting on my ass for missing something Malkuth said in orientation, but the rest of the time, you weren't paying the slightest bit of attention. Why are you getting in my business when you're not any better?"

The other, someone with dark turquoise hair and a style like Marinel's retorts, "And how could you possibly know that? I was listening to everything she said! If I wasn't, how would I have noticed you hadn't followed along when she was talking about the workings of E.G.O?"

"How could I possibly know?! I watched you as she was talking, your eyes weren't even remotely facing her direction! You were like that almost the entire time!"

"I was checking out the layout of the area, that doesn't mean I was tuning her out! Even a half-wit knows that surveilling somewhere you aren't familiar with is one of the first orders of business. Or do you like getting lost in every giant building you walk into?"

"Oh, so I'm less than a half-wit, am I?!" The black-haired one leans in closer with clear anger at the remark, as I notice from the corner of my eye that Marinel's sneaking closer to them. I might not know to what end, but if I have to listen to this argument continue brewing before I've had even a drop of coffee this early in the morning, I'm worried I might adhere to my E.G.O's advice and deliver a forceful reprimand to the people interrupting my peace and quiet.

Half of the cafeteria is now staring directly at the two, but that doesn't seem to slow them much, assuming they even notice. "If you lack that basic knowledge, you just might be. You've already been told about the dangers here, I'm not going to let myself get held back by your lack of diligence." The turquoise-haired one crosses their arms, a strangely dark look in their starry-eyed gaze.

"Lack of diligence?! I never said I wasn't-"

A loud clap from behind the taller of the two makes them turn around reflexively with covered ears. "Agh, Wings, dude! What the hell!?" The shorter one growls as she rubs her ears, fresh from the pain of the sudden sound.

Marinel claps again with a smile. "Oh, great! Looks like I have your attention now. So, I know you two are in the middle of something and all, but I couldn't tell whether you would stop soon or after we all left. Since I don't want you to go in on your first work day on empty stomachs, I was just about to tell you that breakfast is over thataway." They gesture to a large table beyond a bevy of angered Clerks and my increasingly annoyed self.

Their expressions quickly change from anger to clear embarrassment. Looks like they hadn't noticed the eyes on them after all. "A-ah..." They both look away from each other, trying to avoid Marinel's gaze as well.

"It's your first day at this company, try to keep spats and everything subtle," Marinel chides, "or you're going to have a big problem on your hands if Miss Malkuth ever catches you in the act."

Both of them grimace without a response, and make their way to the collection of available food, avoiding looking each other in the eye all the while. Meanwhile, Marinel sits down as though nothing happened, continuing to dig into their meal.

My silent gratitude toward them is quickly cut short as soon as I hear the sound of two plates being set down at my table at the same time, and I silently ask the Wings why they've done this to me. When I look on either end of the opposite side of the table, I regretfully confirm that the two people who sat down were the pair of Agents, staring at each other for a full second before looking away, clearly still annoyed from their argument. Great...

"...Can I help you?"

My question makes the duo tense slightly, as they sit down slowly and nervously, as though they're approaching a feisty cat. "Uh- ah, sorry, I just..." The turquoise-haired one stutters, surprisingly anxious despite their earlier disposition. "Y-you're an Agent, right? I had assumed from your gear, so I thought it'd be best to speak with another Agent about anything I may not have learned in orientation."

"That was my thought process, too, yeah." The other speaks up, rubbing her hands as though they were suddenly frigid. Now that I notice, it isn't just the other that has starry eyes, they both do.

"You aren't incorrect in your assumption, but why didn't you just talk to Marinel instead? They were the Agent that reprimanded you two for making such a scene just now. I'd assume they stand out just as much as I do." I point out, folding my arms as I look between the two.

"Oh, Marinel's their name? Ah, either way, it was just a guess for me, but you look... more professional, for lack of better words." The turquoise-haired one answers. "I find myself drawn to people who have a firm grip on everything around them. You look more helpful than them, anyway."

"They've got a much more aloof look to them than you." The other concurs. "You just look more experienced, and a lot more diligent." She shoots a glare at the other that I quickly stifle with a look of my own. "S-sorry. Anyway, are you the first Agent here?"

"Other way around, but I'll still take the compliments." I reply, crossing my legs as I take bites of some mashed potatoes between sentences. "Both of you are?"

"Agent #3, call me Mao, please." Says the one with teal hair. Now that I look at them, their hair isn't dissimilar to mine in the back as well, fanning out just above their back in short, somewhat spiky shapes.

"I'm Susan, Agent #4. It's a pleasure to meet you." The black-haired woman follows, interrupting my thoughts. She clearly considers extending her hand for a handshake, but decides against it.

"Emyakeu, Agent #2. So long as we can all work together and coordinate well, we shouldn't have any problems." I reply, a little over half of the way done with my meal as they just begin to dig into theirs. "Now, is there anything you'd like to quickly ask me? You mentioned you had questions."

Mao speaks up first. "I have a question. When will we get E.G.O. like yours? I don't know how well these plain old suits will serve us against something that wants us dead." They tug at their collar with slight apprehension.

"You'll get one whenever the Manager can extract some from the Abnormality. You need specific boxes from specific Abnormalities to get specific gear, as I'm sure you were told. You'll probably get gear on the lower end since you're still new, so don't get too eager on getting something extremely powerful as things currently are."

Mao continues just as Susan was about to ask something. "Also, I heard that people of a certain caliber can't equip E.G.O. above their level. What would happen if they do?"

My gaze briefly lingers on Susan for a moment, hoping to express that I would hear her in a moment, before I answer. "Well, just to remind you, this is only my second day here, so the information I have is strictly limited to what Malkuth told me, what's in accessible files, and my own intuition." I warn them preemptively.

"However, as wearing E.G.O. is essentially donning an Abnormality's will, it's likely that those who aren't prepared to handle an Abnormality's consciousness are quickly overtaken by their own E.G.O. That would be why you're getting something easy starting tomorrow, in all likelihood. It's practice for when you get something greater, and thus, have to manage a greater toll on your mind."

I turn my attention back to Susan. She perks up, swallowing part of the omelet she'd helped herself to while I answered Mao's second question. "Do you have any tips on working with Abnormalities? If we have to keep them contained, there has to be a trick to keeping them calm."

I shrug lightly. "There's no sort of universally applicable method, if that's what you mean. The only thing that would generally help in all situations is keeping calm and maintaining a level head. If it seems like you're inclined to resort to... eccentric methods to appease an Abnormality, I'll remind you that these are eccentric creatures in and of themselves. They're different beings from each other, and require different methods of care."

Mao leans forward, narrowing their eyes with both amusement and light concern. "Eccentric such as...?"

"...I posed as a tree for an Abnormality called Small Bird to deduce it wanted a perch resembling one."

"...And that worked...?" They squint as their lips tighten and loosen, probably trying to hold back a laugh.

"It's advisable to read an Abnormality's body language for possible intent before you do anything even remotely like what I did." I respond quickly. "But yes, it did work."

Susan clears her throat as her eyes are closed. She's having the same reaction as Mao, isn't she. "So, I'm assuming we're dealing with ZAYINs and such, right? This Small Bird doesn't seem too dangerous based off what you said."

"Don't underestimate Abnormalities. Even the most passive ones are capable of harm, and I doubt Small Bird is an exception. As for their risk levels..." I pull out my PDA, looking for the two Abnormality files after having finished my meal. "One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds is a ZAYIN, and Small Bird is a TETH, so don't do something reckless around it thinking it won't mind."

They both grimace tensely at the mention that we're already dealing with TETHs. "As long as you follow the general guide laid out in their files, you should be fine." I attempt to comfort them. "If you need anything clarified about them, you can come to me about it, I've already started making my own hypotheses about Small Bird that I'm waiting to see proven or disproven. Until they are, though, I doubt they'll be of use."

"Hypotheses?" They ask in sync, and shoot looks at each other when they notice.

"It isn't much yet, but from what I've gathered from One Sin's file, it's made most content when you confess a sin to it, graded on a scale of 1 to 3. 1 is something like a small lie or misdeed that can generally be overlooked or excused, and 3 is a sin so grievous that you would have otherwise taken it to your grave."

I pause, thinking of how to word what I'll say next. "I don't know what happens when someone confesses such a sin, but sins categorized on the scale of 1 to 2 are directly stated to increase energy production while the consequences of confessing a Level 3 sin are entirely unknown. It's quite easy to intuit that there's a catch to doing so. Small Bird has similar fragments of information comprising it, but they're too scattered and disconnected as things stand to make a concrete guess about its nature beyond its E.G.O, which seems keen on punishing sins. If one isn't guilty of any wrongdoing that it's aware of, they should likely be fine."

Mao and Susan both nod along without really comprehending what I'm saying, it's easy to tell. "So what you're saying is you've got a keen insight into these creatures and can deduce what they're about from there?" Asks Mao, and I respond with a nod.

"If there are no more questions, hurry up with your food, I think breakfast ends soon." I point out, and they clearly appear startled before they quicken their pace in their meal. In the corner of my eye, I see Marinel facing us, watching the conversation with a bemused grin.

They give a thumbs up of approval, seemingly having overheard the whole thing. I'm half-convinced they just didn't want to bother explaining everything themself again like they did with me.

It isn't long after they finish eating that we start the work day. I receive a notification from my PDA after a little while that asks me to begin Attachment Work with the new Abnormality. When I enter the containment unit, I'm met with a green swarm of little creatures that are flittering about too quickly to identify, jabbering things to each other that I don't understand. The moment they notice my entry, they all stop in place and lock their eyes on me, revealing clearer shapes that remind me of pixies.

I take in a breath at the dozens of gazes now resting on me. "Good morning to you all. Have I interrupted something?" I start off. The scores of fairies exchange glances, some muttering words so quickly that I can only barely make the gibberish out, while others continue to observe me. "I apologize for bothering you, if so." I add to break any tension, and before any more of my silence would come off as fearful or anxious.

The fairies fluttering around a mass in the center of the room stop, and a cluster of them in a ball around it begin to part, revealing another fairy of incredible size in comparison to the rest, at about a third of my height.

It flutters towards me, tilting its head uncertainly as if to inspect me. "There are quite a lot of you. Are you the... Queen of them all, possibly?" I attempt to guess to the sprite hovering before me, and it seems to relax its posture for a moment as it gives a smile. Whether it's out of acknowledgement of what I said, or if it's finished its assessment of whatever about me had its attention, or something else entirely, I'm not yet certain.

It turns its head back to the cluster of Fairies, and motions for a handful to follow it. When they do, a small number rest themselves on my shoulder, prodding at my neck with curiosity. Others follow suit, a couple resting on my hands as I write down an account of the scene, though not appearing interested by what's on the paper.

Mindfully, almost gently, the one closest to my neck opens its mouth and takes a nibble at the flesh. It doesn't hurt beyond a mild jolt of surprise, and it seems intrigued, likely by the taste. "Is there any reason why you bit me just now?"

As a rivulet of blood begins travelling down my skin, the Fairy collects it with its palm, before using another hand to rub something on the wound, and the feeling of trickling blood suddenly stops. I briefly set my pen on the board to check where the bite mark was with a finger, yet all I can feel is smooth skin, and when I check with my eyes, I find my finger completely dry.

As I look towards the Fairy Queen again, I find it sampling the blood that the Fairy offered her, before waving to the Fairies who joined it and chattering something. I can't pick up on any dangerous intent, but I certainly notice the feeling of small nibbles in other places where the Fairies landed. Similar feelings of the wounds closing verify that despite biting at my flesh with interest, they weren't intending to devour me whole, at least for now. Strangely, they even healed up a small scrape on my hand I only just noticed, without thinking of 'sampling' it first.

"You all seem like you have an interest in sinking your teeth into something," I comment, "when I stop by next, I can gladly bring something for you to eat along with me. Does that sound good to you?"

The Fairies all look up at me with interest, and the Queen perks up noticeably upon hearing that. It clasps its four hands together in response and offers a wide smile, revealing more sharp teeth, yet not bearing them. Even more Fairies flutter around me now, and only a few of the ones already on my body leave to make room.

It's at about that time that I hear my PDA beep with a notification, signifying that it's time to leave. The Fairies seem startled at first, but I raise my hand to calm them down. "Sorry, it looks like I have to leave for now. I'll be sure to let my superiors know about what we can do for you." I state calmly. A majority of the Fairies flutter away, back to their Queen, but others remain where they are, continuing to nibble on my exposed skin.

When I look at the Queen for clarity, she only shakes her head and doesn't seem bothered by the other Fairies staying put. Realizing I could be chastised for remaining in the containment unit for too long, I realize that it isn't worth making a fuss about it as long as I'm confident that they'll remain mostly docile. "If you'd like to come with me, I only ask that you leave my coworkers be." I sigh, but the Fairies all seem to be alright with the idea.

When I exit the containment unit and take the elevator to the path to the main room, I find Marinel walking towards me, checking their PDA. They look up as soon as they notice I'm there. "Oh, Emyakeu, good to-" Immediately, they cut themself off as soon as they notice my flittering companions. "You... have something on your face. And your shoulders. And your hand. And-"

"I get it." I hold up my hand, before pointing to the ones who are biting at my flesh. Following along, the Fairies proceed to heal over the small punctures they made with my teeth, and the bleeding immediately stops.

Marinel clicks their tongue and a smile creeps onto their face. "Well, that's definitely something. Eh, assuming everything coincides with your report and you're not being an idiot with letting the little ones out, I'm sure it'll go over fine. I've got to check in on One Sin in the meantime, don't go causing any trouble, okay~?" They wave as they continue to pass by me, but I notice their gaze lingers on the Fairies as they go.

I continue into the main room, and notice that only Mao is present. They notice the Fairies on me almost immediately, most of the other Clerks following suit. I raise my hand again to communicate that all is well, and they evidently calm down, lowering the baton they'd started to raise. "Those Abnormalities... there are, ah... quite a lot of them, aren't there?" They ask, still apprehensive and cautious.

"It isn't an abundant amount compared to the ones back in the room itself." I respond, my eyes looking back and forth between the Fairies every now and again, to make sure they're still in one place.

They look up at me and give assuring smiles, and I return my gaze to Mao afterward. "With how many there are, it seems likely that some will decide to tag along with us whenever we need to leave."

Mao furrows their brow slightly. "And there's nothing we can do about it? Nothing at all?"

"Any attempts to block even a single one from leaving with us would probably be foolhardy recklessness at best." I warn, recalling the sheer amount of them and their tendency to bite at one's flesh. If they were compelled towards violence, it wouldn't even take a moment for the whole room to devour you. "Besides," I add, "their loyalty to their Queen likely won't compel them to remain outside forever. They'll return eventually, I'm sure."

"There's a Queen?" Mao's eyes widen, before quickly calming themselves and letting out a sigh. "Oh, well. What else did you notice? If there's anything you can tell me right away."

"Don't be too impatient, I was just looking to pass my report along. Can anyone here take this to Miss Malkuth?" I ask. The sound of footsteps approaching me draws my attention to the Clerk I'd encountered yesterday, a surprisingly calm look on her face despite the Fairies still nibbling away at me.

"Oh, you again, thank you." I say absentmindedly. She gives a quick, acknowledging nod. "Yeah, don't mention it, I'll rush this along right away."

I admittedly feel a little bad for not saying more, but she's already gone before I can think of anything to say. Mao approaches me, sitting down at the closest vacant desk. "Say, Lo- er... La-...?" They begin, but quickly stopping and appearing unsure of themself each time they started.

"Emyakeu. Just Emyakeu, please. I'm not your direct superior just because I'm more experienced than you by a day." I say, raising an eyebrow at their attempted use of honorifics. It's not like anything would really work for me, regardless.

"S-sorry, force of habit." Mao apologizes sheepishly. "Well, either way, I've been wondering something, Emyakeu, what were you up to before all of this?"

The question was unexpected, but I sit down close enough to them to entertain it. "I was just a Fixer. Any reason you're asking?"

Mao hums with affirmation, seeming to catch onto something. "Ahh, that makes much more sense. You see, I was reading the files earlier like you suggested, and at first, it was incredibly difficult for me to make heads or tails of anything I was looking at. I needed a Clerk to clarify for me the things I wasn't getting." They rubbed the back of their neck, briefly looking away from me.

"Yet, you mentioned it like it was a trivial task." They continued, their eyes looking back towards me. "Something I was struggling with, and something I even caught that Susan trying to figure out, was something you seemingly managed to get through with relative ease on your first day. So it had me wondering what sort of jobs you were occupying yourself, to know what we didn't."

"Was it that difficult to understand?" I couldn't help but ask. "Marinel brought it up like it was no trouble at all, so I thought it wasn't something that you'd find particularly challenging."

Mao seems a little less offput by the other half of my answer, and puts a hand on their chin thoughtfully. "That Marinel does seem hard to read..."

"I take it you're wondering about them in the same way you were wondering about me." I watch their face suddenly turn a degree paler. "I-I wouldn't ever pry where it's not welcome, of course!" They wave their hands in an effort to defend themself.

"Relax, I'm not upset at you for your curiosity. The human mind naturally has an inclination towards looking for answers to questions they don't know. Knowledge is one of our primary means of growth." I reply, almost automatically.

Mao stifles a grin. "I see..." They open their mouth to say something, but seemingly on a sort of cue, the feeling of opening and closing wounds all over my skin stops all at once. When I turn my attention to the Fairies, they begin fluttering away as a collective, heading back in the direction of the containment unit they were meant to be in. I notice one give me a little wave as it left.

After watching all of them leave, Mao's eyes focus on me with a peculiar expression on their face. "Are you sure it's just your intuition that lets you predict how these things act?"

"I figure it's best to pay attention to every facet of an Abnormality the moment you notice it. Deducing its behavior from those small bits of information should be relatively straightforward from there." I explain. "It wasn't hard at all to figure out what the Fairies are about, but I imagine that it'll become more complicated when we encounter more dangerous Abnormalities. Keep that in mind."

"You're awfully tense for only being here for two days." I hear someone say, before turning to see the Clerk from before sitting down next to us. "It isn't that your vigilance isn't appreciated, especially given the Agent before you that can't seem to take anything seriously, but are you sure it's good to be so... uptight?"

The nature of the question makes me blink, and I try to ignore what was said about Marinel. "Is it not warranted to take things as seriously as possible? Even if the Abnormalities we're dealing with are more than tame compared to what's to come, resting on your laurels is asking for trouble."

The Clerk runs a hand through her hair with a sigh. "So you'd think, but you should try to cut loose at least a little. I don't want someone cracking that's the only line of defense between me and whatever fucked up things will want to kill me for being in their line of sight."

"I've got no intention of letting anything past me." I try to reassure her. "Besides, regardless of anything else, I don't intend to lose composure so easily, especially when there are people I have to protect."

The announcement of the day's end sounds after the conversation is over as Marinel and Susan walked in from their respective corridors. We all gathered to leave, but I could still feel that Clerk's eyes on the back of my head.

Chapter Text

The next day comes without much fanfare. I'm surprised to hear that, admittedly, after the incident with what was dubbed Fairy Festival thanks to my report. It appeared my surmising of the unlikelihood that all Fairies would stay in one place was spot-on, so Malkuth said that I was perfectly fine and wouldn't receive punishment for allowing an Abnormality to breach.

Not many new things are of note, save for three things; firstly, the fact that the weapon Penitence was no longer in my locker after I opened it. Instead, a white pistol with a red splotch around the frame and ending at the trigger guard greeted me. When I equip my E.G.O, the voice of Beak is amplified to a degree, yet notably less annoying to tune out at the same time.

Second, a new Agent's joined us. Parker, she called herself. I gave her the rundown of how Agents typically go about their business, and clarified anything she needed help with, similar to how I did with the two before. She's certainly a casual, smooth person, and got on with Marinel nicely when they sat at our table this morning. I just hope it doesn't cultivate any carelessness that would get her or anyone else in trouble.

And third, the new Abnormality that arrived, in the opposite hallway to Fairy Festival's. When I'm ordered to work with it, I'm not given any specific Work Type to use as a base, nor an allotted time, which left me to simply do what comes naturally.

...And that covers the general, very summed up story of how I found myself in front of a floating heart.

It's suspended between a base and lid which shouldn't be functioning the way they are, without any glass to hold the topmost part in place, let alone the heart in between. My best guess is that it's new technology to do with gravity that's keeping everything in its rightful place. If it were to do with a new Wing on the rise like this one, that wouldn't surprise me.

Regardless of my thoughts or entry, the heart remains otherwise inert, save for the periodic beats that denote its nature. A heart that's been outside of a human body for more than 5 minutes would quickly cease beating, but I shouldn't be surprised that this Abnormality defies that logic. I can quickly push the redundant thought from my mind knowing that much for certain.

Speaking to it won't do me any good, I can already tell. The Abnormalities that responded to my speech were distinctly living creatures with a degree of language comprehension, or at least the things I meant to convey. This was not a living creature or anything resembling one, only something that should be part of one. No Enkephalin could ever be gained from working with this thing under that pretense, which leaves me wondering what I'm even meant to do.

I should be squeamish in front of this thing, ordinarily, but I've seen enough of human innards that I'd already shaken it off the moment the thought structured itself. A notification from my PDA sounds, different from what conveys the end of a work session. I look at it, and am met with an instruction that simply tells me to interact with the object, and take it with me on my way out. Object. I knew I was correct in my suspicions.

The fact that I'm ordered to take this Abnormality along with me clearly indicates that it's not one that would facilitate a hostile breach in some way. I make my way forward, reaching out gingerly towards the heart.

It beats upon my touching it, making me reflexively retract my hand, before I exhale at myself. It's clear that carrying this with me is my best option, along with the fact it's most likely beneficial in a way to do so. Otherwise, I don't think this thing would even be allowed to leave containment in the first place. Letting reflex guide my hand away from it only lets fear fester before an object that'll realistically help me if I can use it properly. Ridiculous.

With renewed steel, both in my form and my mind, I wrap my hand around the beating heart. Immediately, I feel a sense of vigor and ardor flood through my body, as I quickly pull the heart from the forces suspending it in place, the speed of which surprises me. I manage to tuck it into my coat pocket, and I feel the warmth of the object against my body as I exit the containment unit with clear, purposeful steps.

As I walk, it's like I feel my mind being slowly dragged away to some far-away place. It's a strange sensation that doesn't take me long at all to notice, like I'm being taken gently by my hand and led away off the beaten path for a spell.

'Do you have something you wish for?'

I feel a question being asked without a voice with which to speak it. What a sudden question it is. At the same time, though, it's somewhat unlike the will of Small Bird that is something I could, with effort, tune out, and something I should do there. Yet, here...

'Should I ask again? I want to hear it. Do you have something you wish for?'

...That somewhat confirms it. It's not like the voice of an E.G.O, the heart — for that's undoubtedly the source — asks me a question directly, as though attempting to start a conversation. But what would happen if I answered? Precisely what good would that do me?

'You don't need to tell me everything. A simple answer, only indicating that much, not the story behind it. That's all I ask.'

A yes or no question, in short. No context attached, no reason or story for me to give, not the slightest explanation to what my wish even is.

Of course I wish for something. In some ways, everyone has a wish. I doubt that there's someone who doesn't, someone content merely existing with the lot they were given. Whether it's the desperate hands of someone who's never known luxury, reaching for salvation, or someone far above in the Wings of the World who reaches out their hands mired in greed, simply in search of more things to call theirs, everyone wishes for something.

'Yet, it's a different question that I ask. Do you have a wish, a wish that you can truly call yours? Something you aspire yourself to, every single day? Something that only you can do?'

It's a complicated question. Breaking it down into the philosophies that entail such questions would take me all day, but I feel that by the point I've finished with it all, I'll have simply been arguing semantics the whole time.

...Ah. I realize what it's actually attempting to ask me not long after I reach that conclusion.

Yes. Many things could qualify, but I know one thing that I wish for above all others.

'I see.' It seems content. 'That's good. Your answer is more than enough. I'll gladly grant you the power you need when such a time comes, that you wish to make that wish come true.'

The conversation fizzles out, yet I can feel the warmth and pulsations of the heart beating with more excitement than before.

For the second time today, I stand in Small Bird's containment unit, locking eyes with the beady-eyed creature.

The first time was for Instinct Work, and I can't say it was very eventful besides when I heard a hum of contentment in my mind while I was in the middle of feeding it sunflower seeds. I could only assume it came from Small Bird, since I felt no change from the heart that would signify anything on its part. The observation wasn't included in the file, though, which left me to wonder if it was all in my head regardless of if it felt that way or not.

Now, though, Attachment naturally demands me to sate its other needs. It does enjoy social activity with the Agents as we've learned, but it tends to favor me over anyone else, probably because I was responsible for giving it its perch. And given Marinel brought it in, it'd explain why their results with it were above average as well. It doesn't help to think too much of it, though.

"Let's try something different this time." I mutter, more to myself, but Small Bird's head tilts, showing that it heard me. "You remember last time, right? I'm assuming the seeds I brought you were to your liking, but let me know if there's anything else you're craving."

I breathe in, still aware that what I'm thinking may be incorrect, and Small Bird's head remaining at the same angle somewhat diminishes my confidence, but the question burning in my mind speaks to me clearly that I owe it to myself to test that theory. "I thought I heard you humming. Was it you that I heard after all?"

Small Bird's head returns to its neutral position, but otherwise, it doesn't show any change in expression nor body language. Yet, I hear that same hum in my mind, almost reverberating in my skull. 'Is it a problem?'

Aha. So I was right, after all. "Not at all. I simply hadn't known you for the speaking type. Is there any reason why you kept quiet, if you don't mind me asking?"

'Was never much to say.' It responds in what my mind pictures as a light tone and voice, fluttering its wings and pecking at a loose feather. 'Anything to be said was already figured out.'

...Wait. So, if all of that is true, it could have just told me the sort of perch it wanted, rather than making me do all of... that. As if aware of the thoughts in my head, it turned its head down to the wood of the perch. 'I assure friend, I would have spared any excess embarrassment if first guess was incorrect.' It flutters off of its perch, opting for a different branch on the black, gnarled tree.

"Well, that's a relief, at least..." I sigh. On the bright side, this means that communication with it will be far more efficient and concise, even though it wasn't exactly brutally difficult to understand it before. "Come to think of it, you're even more pleased with the perch than I initially assumed. Would I be correct in guessing something about it holds significance to you?"

Small Bird cranes its neck upwards as if in thought. 'Yes, correct. It feel like home, really. Trees were just like this in almost every regard.'

"Oho?" I put the back of my hand to my chin, hand still poised to write anything down. I don't know much about Small Bird's background, now that it mentions that it even has one. "I suppose everyone does get homesick." I chuckle, though I can't help but avoid thinking about where that laughter comes from.

'Ah, friend misses home?' Small Bird queries. 'It understandable. Even I feel aches of home from time to time, though... can't go back.' It looks off, facing the wall, but looking far beyond it. 'No interest in going back, anyway.'

I can't help but wonder at Small Bird's wording. It sounded somewhat melancholy, but not deeply affected by whatever it was thinking of. Despite my initial assumptions about the bird, I'm actually deeply interested in its history now that it's alluded to it. "Sounds like a story there. Would you like to tell me about it?"

'Oh, not much to tell.' It replied flippantly, pecking at its wings lightly. 'Was guardian of forest far away. Three of us, there were. One watched forest for intruders, and other judged sins of all who entered forest, keeping its peace. But creatures still sinned, even ones allowed in.' It explained, fluttering onto the branch that faced me.

It's easy for me to piece together its own role. My E.G.O. is already a clear indicator, I haven't entirely ignored what it's been saying, after all, but now that Small Bird has handed me more of these fragments of information, it's child's play to put them together. "And, thus, it fell to you to punish those sins." I finish.

'Correct. Friend gets hundred points.' Small Bird answered, though I couldn't entirely tell if it was being sarcastic. 'Not just creatures, though. People sin just as much. Why, people have been committing sins since long, long ago. Had always wondered: 'Why do they commit such sins, knowing it's wrong?''

'Found answer not long after. There must be no one to punish people for those sins!' It spread its wings, making it almost appear grand despite its tiny stature. 'So, role fell to me, naturally. When forest was empty, flew away. Forget details beyond that, and now, here.'

My hand's jotted down notes of everything it said in detail, almost separate from my mind that heard them. Though, it is all 1-to-1, so I can't complain. Aside from that, I can't help but wonder as to the bird's definition of a sin. The idea of punishing evil is something that is both incredibly broad and vague, and infinitesimally specific. I think to ask, but I stop myself before I open my mouth. Given how I'd heard it pecked almost everyone that walked into its containment unit for reasons even they didn't know, including myself, I lean towards the former.

'Is friend satisfied? Like I said, not much to tell.' The Bird interrupts my thoughts, prodding its beak at feathers surrounding the red blotch on its stomach. I quickly nod my head. "It was absolutely informative. I was glad to listen along."

...I might be even more glad that I'd paid attention depending on if the two guardians it mentioned are Abnormalities just like this one is. Given the descriptions provided, both watching the forest and judging anyone who entered, the latter in particular practically oozed an abnormal feeling. The forest itself came into question next. I don't know why it wouldn't be a real place, but no tales of anything like it were ever heard in the City. That part is even more important to take note of, if my hypothesis is right.

'Lukewarm reaction, despite flavoring of words.' The Bird mentally humphs, its disappointment palpable even if I hadn't heard its words. 'Now, my turn to ask question. What does friend think of goal?' It queries.

Something about the way it asks the question surprises me a little. Speaking with the Bird is different from my conversation with the heart, in that it clearly has what I'd call the mental image of a voice and tone attached to it. Naturally, differences in inflection are easy to pick up on as a result, including now. It's genuinely curious, its interest in my input is far more than just wondering to pass the time.

Though, naturally, my thoughts could only call the idea... rather vague at best, and childish at worst. I can't imagine this talk of punishing sins would exclude actions born from necessity. In that sense, I don't think there's a single person in the City that'd be spared from its ire, least of all the people in the Backstreets.

"It's an interesting goal, certainly. In my opinion, there are some actions that can't be forgiven, some that should never be allowed to go unpunished. That said, I don't know how far your objective really goes, so at best, my judgement would be incomplete." At some point, my gaze wandered from the Bird to somewhere beyond the walls of the containment unit. It's hard to contain my inner biases and vendettas whenever it comes to topics like this, but I've got a feeling that letting that out would be a poor idea...

"Even if I do sometimes wish that all of those things would just... stop." ...Only for me to let some of it slip anyway, however little it was.

Before I can correct my error, the Bird hums mentally. 'Friend's answer is too restrained to properly judge as well. Yet, can doubtless tell that friend has seen much of what I mean with own eyes. Friend's answer is satisfactory in that regard, will not force details to be brought to light.'

Just before relief can show on my face, it continues. 'Yet, friend speaks with the cadence of someone who stood on same edge, even if friend didn't quite plummet. See to it that friend never falls, else I will punish friend just the same.'

I can't believe I'm getting counseled by a bird that could fit in my palm, but I can't say it's likely going to be the worst revelation I have either. I take in a breath. "I really hope I don't. I'll do everything I can to not cross that line. You have my word on that."

It's certainly not a wise decision to normally speak in such absolutes, especially when around Abnormalities. The conversation I had with the Clerk from yesterday comes to my mind, even if the points of the conversations aren't exactly identical. Yet... I don't know, I can't really say I ever planned to do anything that would incur its wrath, especially not here where retribution would find me in minutes at best.

The Bird stares, inclining its small head. 'Come close for a moment, and hold out hand.' I do as it instructs, still maintaining a degree of caution. When I hold my hand out below its feet, presumably for it to hop into, I instead watch with shock and a degree of horror as the red spot on its chest stomach spreads open, flesh splitting into four parts revealing row after row of razor sharp teeth. It's large enough to engulf my body in an instant, yet it remains where it is, until I feel something fall into my palm.

I take careful steps away from it before I even dare to look, confident that I'm out of its reach, and I find a golden necklace spilling out from the confines of my hand, and a large tooth affixed to its center, almost looking like a miniature dagger. 'I will remember what friend said.' The Bird's gargantuan mouth closes, reverting it back to the same, harmless-looking creature I had known it as before. 'That a gift from me to friend, and reminder of promise friend made.'

I shudder out a breath, one that I hadn't realized that I never let out. I look down at the necklace again, putting it on as I quickly write down everything I'd seen. Despite the fact that what I just saw is something I know I don't want to see again, I also realize that it's incredibly unlikely that I will. Given it was adamant on punishing what was more than likely any sin, I highly doubt that my coworkers who made mistakes while working with this creature would still be around. So that'd have to mean that it only resorts to such means when faced with something far worse than the small transgressions we might have made.

A notification from my PDA tells me that my time is up, thankfully. Just before I leave, I give a small nod, and it seems to understand what I'm trying to convey.

Even though logic dictates the unlikelihood of it, I desperately hope that I never see those jaws again.

Chapter Text

The stench of smoke hits my nose as soon as I register I'm conscious. I'm not in L Corp, I recognize that much instantaneously. I can see the sky above, the sight wreathed in red flames. The night sky itself has nothing to offer that makes it a worthwhile view, and the fire surrounding me that reaches so high that it's already brought other buildings into its embrace only serves to make it downright repugnant. Even if I'm too buried to see most of it, I could hear just enough to tell that much. It's like I'm looking into hell through a peephole, and I can't cry out for help, even if I had the will to. My throat would have been too raw for it, dried out by the heat that it was.

It's the same, tired old dream. The fire roars, and I lay on my back, arms spread wide, as far as they could even go with the toppled shelves that were barricaded all around me. They were the only line of defense between me and the flames, even if it meant that it felt like an oven that was cooking me alive. Nothing about this is new, not even the fact I can't escape. I can't force myself to wake up, my arms won't even raise to pinch my cheek.

I'm not paralyzed, I could move my arms if I truly willed them into cooperating with me. But there's no point. If I do somehow defy the fate I'd been condemned to and gain the strength to wake myself, I'm sure it's going to be too early to start the day. Then I'll go back to sleep, and the only thing I'll be met with is the same sight I tried freeing myself from.

The only time it'll end is about half an hour before the Night truly begins. Not long after I recognize the time in my barely cognizant mind, I'll hear voices clamoring around the blazing site, tinged with desperation as they no doubt realized the time they had available to them. Massive spouts of water will descend upon the buildings, and people of all kinds will come running into the wreckage looking for survivors. Firefighters, simple volunteers who had awoken to see it all happen and simply couldn't stand by and watch it spread to their homes, even my coworkers will rush here as soon as it's safe for them to approach the scene.

They'll notice the arrangement I've been entombed in. They'll toss the shelves aside, expecting to see a handful of survivors that had somehow thought of an ingenious plan to protect themselves from the flames and burning rubble, in the only real intact spot in the whole building. Maybe they hadn't succumbed to the smoke and heat, if they were so lucky.

I don't know why they were still grateful to see me. There was nothing about this to be happy or thankful about. There wasn't anyone else inside. It was just me. The only person who I could reasonably see being in tears with relief is the Director the moment he noticed I still had a pulse. But my coworkers all took me into their arms, joining him in small, choked gasps that would help them stay composed.

The only time I'll move is to reach back towards the site without ever meaning to as Seiro carries me, as careful and kind as if he was holding his own child. She's still back there. I can't leave. You have to bring me back, you have to let me see her.

But what'll be the point of that, anyway. The fire isn't what killed her. I'm sure that's why he ignores my outstretched hand, why the other Fixers there just exchanged pitying glances and shaking heads. All it really did was make it to where there was nothing left of her.

But my eyes still look upwards, the sound of burning, and distant screams being the only things I hear. Despite the heat that burned anything in its path with ease, it never went past the shelves. The ceiling's burned away in the area that I'm trapped in, a large chunk of detritus that had fallen was blocked and broken into tiny chunks by the shelves on top of me. The pieces that fell in with me smoldered briefly, but died down without anything to sustain their flames. They burned against my skin, but I barely felt it. I barely felt anything, even the broiling heat of this claustrophobic prison, down to its floor. I just know it's all there.

...Ha. It's probably for the better that Seiro secured me an Ampule for how badly I was burned, I don't want to think about how I would look if he hadn't, let alone how I'd feel. The first couple of days afterward made me hesitate to even consider looking in the mirror, even if the fear of seeing my burns were hardly at the forefront of my mind. The few times I looked down at myself in that period did nothing but remind me of the pain that was still too raw to fathom, but now it's all gone, only leaving some scars below my collar that I couldn't erase the sight of from my memory. And yet...

I'd forgotten how long waiting felt. Sitting still, doing nothing at all has never been something my body and mind could tolerate. At the very least, honing my knowledge or strengthening my body was a better pastime than none at all. Some of my coworkers didn't seem to think the same, though I doubt that was the main reason for the disconnect I usually felt with them.

But they're gone now, and I'm never to hear the reasons as to why.

Ah. I can hear the water falling already, the hissing of flames being extinguished on top of it all indicates clearly that it's almost over.

The things that follow don't bear repeating, really. Every time I drift off to sleep, this is just what I see, to the point where I've memorized the location of each smudge and bit of debris on everyone's faces as they found me there. There's never been anything else I've dreamt about since that day, and it isn't like I can reflect on what I'd dreamt of before. I was never really the type that wrote down little records of insignificant things like dreams, and I especially don't see that changing now, so as far as what I see when I close my eyes, this is all there is.

It's strange, yeah. But unless a day comes where I finally see something different, I don't feel inclined to deeply question why I hadn't before. All I've ever felt inclined to do here, as I feel myself being carried away, is reach towards where she was. I don't see her, but I vividly remember that's where she was before...

"Ah..."

My eyes slowly open, yet my body is fast enough to thrust a hand out to silence my alarm clock exactly a second before it even makes a sound. There was a time where I woke up with a start, gasping for breath, or where I held myself in my arms and simply sat there, sometimes it even took me more than an hour to get out of bed because I couldn't stop the tears flowing from my eyes. But now I just look up at the ceiling, and get up without a word.

No new Abnormalities were around yesterday as Malkuth had noticed us of previously, so very little changed in the way of routine. Punishing Bird's proper name was added to its file after my report, given the fact that I found Small Bird to be vastly underselling what I'd found it to be capable of, but there was nothing new to be said about the other Abnormalities. Susan and Mao got into a brief spat over an observation log that the former had made with Fairy Festival, but given how that exact situation was my first impression of them, it barely takes anything to shrug it off, even if it does make me wonder a little.

Now, however, things are very different. For one, my suit no longer has the 'M' of the Control Team on it, nor is it replaced with anything. Given the absence of any Abnormalities yesterday that I hadn't already seen, it's not impossible that more time was spent working on development of other parts of the facility. If I'm still being granted my E.G.O, then I doubt I'm being fired either, particularly given the fact that I've not received any harsh words from Malkuth to indicate as much.

A notification from the PDA on my desk sounds, and I quickly look at it to see that it instructs me to walk beyond the Control Team, heading to the elevator and going to the second-lowest level as soon as the work day starts. There, I'll find the newly opened Department in which I'll be working, where I'll pick up my armband. After preparing to begin the day, I start my breakfast with my fellow Agents, with Marinel squeezed right in between Susan and Mao, and Parker at my side.

Since my time with the Control Team's officially ended, it's probably a good idea to try and resolve some slight tensions between the argumentative two while I'm still caught up with them, since I see that they're still wearing the same armbands. Before I can, though, Marinel beats me to it. "Say, Susan, remind me of the log you made yesterday, would you? The one with Fairy Festival."

Multiple pairs of eyes fall upon them as soon as they say that. Susan's head tilts, just as she's about to put another forkful of egg into her mouth. "Uh, why? I've already got it approved by Malkuth, so there shouldn't be anything wrong with it." She replies with a quirked eyebrow. Marinel waves it off. "Mind's foggy and I don't feel like checking the logs. Now c'mon, tell me!"

Up until that point, I didn't know someone could make puppy dog eyes with their eyes constantly closed—as it appears I wasn't seeing things after all that time, they really are just like that—but there Marinel was, proving me wrong. Susan coughed a little, trying to swallow her breakfast before laughing into a choking fit. "Fine, I don't know what you're so insistent about, but if you're that desperate to know, I'll tell you."

"I reserve the right to criticize you the exact same way I did when I read it." Mao comments just as Susan gets ready to begin, and promptly backs off the moment I lean forward to listen to her, shooting a glance at them. "If it's of any substance, I won't object to it, but I'd rather my breakfast not get interrupted by another argument on today of all days."

"Hooooo, special day, huh?" Parker interjects with a whistle just as I say that, and I can see Susan's eyebrow twitch in the corner of my eye. "Spill the deets there, you got me curious. Is it somebody's birthday? Oh, I really hope I'm not missing somebody's birthday. Or interrupting yours, maybe? Oh, or maybe it's an anniversary for something? What, you planning to send something out to a lover o' yours? Or maybe-"

Something I've learned about Parker that this one-sided conversation exemplifies is that she has little to no filter at all. She treats almost everyone she meets like a friend she's known since childhood, and she absolutely loves hearing herself talk, with almost zero fondness for ever shutting up. "Stop," I raise my hand toward her as she's mid-sentence. "I'm just getting transferred to the new team, it's nothing nearly that serious, but I'd rather be in high enough spirits to make a good first impression. Which is why I'd like Susan to carry on without unnecessary interruptions."

Susan breathes a sigh of relief. "You're a life saver. Uh, wait a minute, you're getting transferred?" She interrupts herself, though it's not like I didn't expect the reaction. I give a quick nod. "Yeah, I got the notice this morning. Since it's just opened up, they probably need a... more senior Agent to act as on-field advisors to anyone new, I suppose." I theorize, but it's funny that I refer to myself as a senior given how short of a time I've been here. Still, I am the second Agent, so I guess that has to count for something. "...No, it's more likely they need someone more experienced to handle anything that breaches down there." I start muttering to myself, but I try and wave off my ramblings. I'll save them for the trip, anyway. "Sorry for interrupting. Back to what you were saying, though."

Susan perked up, clapping her hands together. "Right! Anyway, I was mainly observing the fairies closest to me, nothing was all that out of the ordinary. But when I turned to leave after my time was up, I noticed their teeth sinking in deeper than usual. There was something that set off alarm bells in my head about how hard they bit down, and I got half-ready to defend myself, but they noticed I was on edge and stopped fairly quickly." She leans forward, cupping her cheek with her hand and resting her elbow on the table. "It got real quiet for a second, but they let me leave without making any more of a fuss."

"And the rest? What about the ones that didn't go with you?" I can't stop myself from asking. I don't remember seeing that part of the report, though I did notice Susan's logs were generally more keen on highlighting specific details than exhaustive reviews of everything that transpired. Susan shrugs. "Don't know. I know they went quiet too, and I gave a quick look to see if any of them would come flying at me, but nothing more than that as soon as I deemed it irrelevant. Maybe my sudden moves just caught them off-guard, but I don't know why it would have caused that much of a stir."

"And that's why I warned you not to neglect the rest of the hoard. The reactions of the ones on your body aren't nearly as important as the far greater collection of them on the other side of the room." Mao folded their arms. "That was incredibly careless. What if they were all about to pounce, and caught you unawares? I highly doubt a cursory glance would have saved you in that case."

"If that were the case, that'd only mean the ones currently on my body were the greater problem." Susan quickly objects. "If they were all rushing towards me, I would need to run away first, because there's no way any of us could take that many. Given the areas they were on, they could have torn up some important organs or bit through arteries, and I thank my lucky stars that they didn't. There's no use in worrying about a threat that hadn't even reached me yet."

"And how would you have known if they hadn't gotten too close? I didn't find much details on the fairy mass in your log, and it's shocking that Malkuth didn't point that out to you. If they'd been inching closer, I doubt you would have noticed until it was too late." Mao scoffed, clearly disappointed by her seeming lack of forethought.

"Again, the bigger problem would be the ones on my body, because I might have had my priorities on the smaller group of fairies, but I'm not stupid enough to entirely forget about paying attention to the big green mass that's that noticeable. If the distance between them and me shrunk too much, rest assured, I think I would notice pretty quickly!"

"Says someone with the gift of hindsight." Mao's tone became noticeably biting, as if forgetting the fact that Marinel and I were looking between the two with each sentence either spoke. Even Parker cocked her head at that, but they didn't seem particularly balked by the eyes on them this time. "When I told you something similar the first time, you didn't have much to say, but now you bring it up like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Have yourself a think about it in the shower, or something?"

"Excuse me-!"

"Stop." I quickly interject before the argument escalates. Both of their heads turn towards me. I turn towards Susan first. "I will say that your focusing on the fairies on your body was wise, especially given the fact that you noticed that they were on potential vital points. Even I hadn't thought to pay too much mind to where they were, but that's certainly a mistake that I'm glad didn't cost me."

"That said," I continue just as a triumphant expression appears on her face, "you would do well to be more mindful of anything that isn't in your immediate line of sight. Mao is at least correct about the fact that ignoring such a large amount of fairies which you know frequently focus on such key areas is a reckless error at best, and a display of myopic naivete at worst. Don't make that face, Mao, I haven't finished yet."

"Wha- huh?! You weren't even looking at me!" Mao gawks. I pivot my attention towards them, not really caring enough to relish the look of shock and astonishment on their face, and trying to ignore Marinel, who certainly does if their stifled giggles are meant to say anything. "As for what you were saying, don't dismiss Susan's findings as insubstantial, I doubt she would have noticed something so important if she outright ignored the fairies that were on her body. If you were in her position, you might not have thought to notice their precise locations while you were leaving and suffered the consequences for it."

They don't offer an immediate rebuttal because they know I'm not wrong. Mao as a person is far more rigid than Susan, you could tell that much from their posture alone, so they're more likely to have something of that sort happen without them intending to. I imagine that they'll have to work on that more carefully as time passes, and focus on smaller details that'll matter more than they think now, and the opposite goes true for Susan. "Point is, both of your observations have merit to them, try and find the best of both worlds and then strike that balance. I won't be around in the team to point that out in the future." I finish my thoughts, and finish off the rest of my plate as it's about time for me to go, abrupt though my departure is.

"Good luck with the new team~!" Marinel waves me off. Just as I'm about halfway to the door, I hear them let out a small groan of dismay. "Hoo boy, how am I gonna have to deal with being the one explaining things now...?"

I take the elevator as instructed, admittedly somewhat surprised about the fact I'm the only one there. Although, come to think of it, the amount of people in the Control Team started out quite small at first too, so I can curb the thought fairly easily.

I run with that thought until I open the door to the new Department, which immediately strikes me as being very different from the team that I was first in. As opposed to the Control Team's cluttered looking interior with screens almost from wall to wall, and the hallways' dull amber colors that got under my skin the more I looked at them, this new Department has much more satisfying hallways, colored a nice shade of violet and with a far more organized look to them, though you could chalk that up to the fact it just hadn't been torn up yet.

And that's to say nothing of the main room, which I can only describe as wonderfully sleek. Unlike Control's screens which were built into the wall, the screens here are projected holograms that take up significantly less space, allowing you to pay more mind to the pale, teal-ish streaks of light running across the off-purple room, allowing for an easily noticeable contrast that wasn't an eyesore. Initially, I thought what I saw in the Control Team would be the norm, but this is something I can only describe as a breath of fresh air.

"You are Agent #2, correct?" A voice suddenly snaps me from my admittedly unbecoming relief at my new surroundings. I turn my head to see, much to my muted nervousness, a robot similar to Malkuth, only I immediately notice that this one is wrapped up in what look to be black bandages, covering a faint purple body with its arms crossed. On the lower half of their body, beneath a name screen reading 'Yesod', a glowing violet eye peers at me in a way I instantly recognize as different to Malkuth's. It's brutally cold and analytical, as if evaluating me so thoroughly that it was judging every breath I took.

"Yes, that's correct. I'm Emyakeu, of- well, formerly of the Control Team." I answer with a shallow bow. Yesod's gaze barely seems to relent. "I only asked for your identification. I have no interest in your name." He replies, and I can't help but feel slighted at his overly blunt words. So much for high spirits. "As for where you currently are, this is the Information Team, and I am the Sephirah, Yesod. As you may have heard from your previous Sephirah, we are responsible for the collecting, thorough analyzing, and archiving of all of the data that the facility records. By doing so, we may better understand the Abnormalities with which we work and devise solutions to problems that they will doubtlessly cause."

I received a notice earlier yesterday, along with the rest of the Employees that I knew of, that the concerns about the Sephirah and their nature as AI were nothing to worry ourselves with despite the fact that they seem fairly similar to ordinary people you'd meet on the street, if not for their metal bodies. They were still complying with the AI Ethics Amendment according to their account of things. Even if I can recognize that we should be fine, it still unnerves me when I think about my initial reaction to Malkuth. "I see. I have a few theories about some of the Abnormalities that I've yet to put down officially, due to the fact that they haven't been tested. Would this place be a decent field to do such a thing?"

Yesod shifts slightly. "If there are hypotheses that are found to be worth testing, they will be sent through me if and only after I deem them reasonable. This place is for rigorous research and experimentation on the information we receive, and sacrifices are something that should be expected as a result to ascertain the consistency of the solutions proposed. This is not a place for armchair theorizing, and I suggest you quash such notions going forward."

I try not to show my breath hitching for a moment. "Ideally, I'd rather avoid casualties on the team. If there are less hands to work on the Abnormalities, that'll likely just lead to more hindrances down the road that could have otherwise been prevented. If I'm not speaking out of turn, of course." I finish, trying to be as delicate about my disagreeing as possible.

Yesod doesn't visibly react. "Understand that the work we do in the Information Team is with the end goal of lowering the death toll at the hands of Abnormalities to an absolute minimum. We are not given the privilege of fretting over any sacrifices we make while we work toward that goal, as that is not part of the job assigned to us. I hope you realize that you are not exempt from that, and that your simple wishing for zero casualties is critically insufficient for what is expected of you."

His biting tone reminds me of how Mao had gotten, only Yesod's tone makes my body stiffen with silent protest even more. "So, in a sense, it's all just... trial and error." I mutter, though my attempts to stifle my dispiritedness seem to fail, Yesod isn't interested in entertaining it. "An apt enough descriptor. Your armband is to your right. Pick it up and prepare to begin the work day." He responds flatly, and he is gone quickly thereafter.

A notification sounds from my PDA as I stand there, diverting my attention to the order attached. Insight Work with the new Abnormality. I navigate to the hallway I first came from, recalling the containment unit door I passed by on the way. I haven't really done Repression Work yet, I notice, none of us have. It doesn't exactly surprise me, though, the idea of these Abnormalities being open to parley relating to their desires which we've only been able to entertain rather than restrain is something that appears less and less likely to yield consistent results.

My thoughts are interrupted as soon as I step into the unit, and the door shuts behind me.

Of all the days for the memory of my dream to be so vivid, I find myself silently cursing that it had to be this one. Not that the little ashen girl in front of me wouldn't have dredged up the memory anyway. My gaze focuses briefly on the giant matchstick with which she's been impaled.

...The sharp inhale I take feels like it's laden with smoke all over again.

Chapter Text

Just after I lock eyes with the child, I break my gaze without even thinking. There's a pit in my stomach that I couldn't ignore if I tried, and I could tell right away that it wasn't going anywhere as long as I was in here.

Despite the tension in my body I can't seem to shake, I have to push through if this work session is going to go anywhere. From the distance I'm standing from, I can quickly tell that the Abnormality is a young girl. She stands at just about three and three quarters of a foot, meaning she's somewhere in the ballpark of 7 to 9 years old, maybe 10 if she were simply naturally short. Naturally, the inverse is just as possible, but mulling over such variables this early probably wouldn't yield any meaningful results. Her body is largely covered by a singed black cloak, and a charred cowl obscures some of her facial features, though I can just barely see short pigtails peaking through the hood.

The moment I walk closer to the child, she backs away. A shuddering breath escapes her lips as one of her small arms pulls a bit of her cowl over her face, though I can still see that her pure white eyes are wide with fear. I realize quickly just by getting a better look at her face that her ashen appearance is more than just that, it's more like her entire body is ash, as if she were simply soot and char that's been solidified to take the form of the young girl she used to be. Though her cloak still covers most of her body, I can see that her limbs are shockingly thin. And most prominently, a matchstick almost the length of her whole body pierces through her torso.

The longer I look and think, the more I feel myself getting sick. My eyes flicking towards my notepad to verify everything I'm writing down is accurate is my only real distraction, but just standing here and doing that isn't what I'm here for.

I make no moves towards her, but she continues backing away, only stopping when there's no more room to do so. I try to temper the awful feeling in my stomach for even a moment, though clearing my mind at all is difficult as it stands. I regulate my breathing as I bring myself down to her eye level, though I purposefully avoid prolonged direct eye contact. My hand is far away from my weapon, and I attempt to relax my posture as much as possible. "Hey there, little one. I'm sorry if I scared you. Are you okay?"

One of the most essential things to do when communicating with a child is to come across as gentle and benign as possible, doubly so if you're an authority figure to them. The last thing a child should be is afraid of someone they're meant to trust, that's the most basic step of looking after them. Abnormality though she is, she's still a little girl, and a scared one at that, so a delicate approach is the most surefire way of successful communication, and perhaps, a road to understanding what her situation is.

I just barely notice the girl's quivering breaths slow, although she doesn't move from the spot she's standing in. One of her thin, charred arms held tightly against her chest relaxes slightly, though her hand remains balled up against where her collarbone would be.

"My name's Emyakeu. Do you have a name?" I allow my face to warm up a little as I ask her. She stares at me for a moment with a tilted head, then her lips purse and she shakes her head.

I imagine most people here would find that question odd. Honestly, I wouldn't even blame them for it. To people born in a Nest, a name is something they've never needed to worry about. It's something given to them by their family, a mark of their own history to be left on their offspring's identity from the very day they were born. But I've met many children in the Backstreets that didn't have that luxury, just as I was one of them.

Names that were given to us wouldn't have as much meaning to those born higher than us, even if by stroke of luck. They were given to us by guardians, orphanage directors, or we may even have to cobble one together ourselves based off the circumstances surrounding us, it's not always going to be our own flesh and blood, whichever name they gave us at birth probably got lost along with their own lives before we can remember it. And some children, ones like her, they never get one to remember at all, most often because they die too quickly to join one of those groups of people that did.

I nod to the child in response. "That's okay. How about this? For now, I'll just call you 'little one' and things like that, like I did before. Is that okay with you?" I ask. I keep my tone as soft and relaxed as possible, I can't afford to raise or steel my voice when talking to someone as delicate and nervous as her, otherwise the trust I'm trying to build the foundations of would fall apart on the spot.

I'm aware Insight Work is my main directive, but establishing a solid line of communication with this girl is likely the easiest way to go about an ideal result in that, after which I'll promptly go forward with my necessary objectives. The girl nods, and her balled up hands momentarily slack, drifting towards her sides, but one of her arms bumps against the giant wooden match impaled through her body, with an audible thump.

All at once, she jumps with a yelp, likely more startled than pained based off the briefness of the noise, though her elbow might still be aching slightly from the way she briefly rubs it. Regardless of the specifics of what she's feeling, her anxious demeanor visibly worsens, and if I don't do something quick, I can tell she'll be just as poorly off as she was when I walked in, likely even worse.

I raise my hands quickly, waving them back and forth. "Hey hey hey hey," I hurriedly whisper to get her attention. The girl's head jerks towards me, and my hands prod down on the air, much more slowly and softly now that her focus is back on me. "No need to worry, okay? It'll be alright, there's nothing to worry about." Her lip quivers briefly, as if wanting to say something, but not fully ready to.

"It's just a little bump. It didn't hurt too badly, right? I won't look at it if you don't want me to." I make sure to be as motionless as possible as I express my concern. She doesn't seem to mind the distance I'm currently at. Getting farther is a stupidly redundant idea if she actually does want me to help her, while getting closer without confirmation would make her even more agitated. If I do get any closer, that shouldn't be on my terms until further study makes it absolutely certain that it wouldn't lead to her reacting negatively.

Slowly, the girl returns mostly to a state of calm, and she shakes her head again, likely in decline of my worry. She shuffles her feet with her head turned towards the floor, still clearly a little apprehensive of me. From the angle I'm at, I can barely notice the match's flame maintains its position at its head, though ash sprinkles down from it all the same.

Right, that's step 1. The girl is a bit more at ease, which leaves my next step, actually beginning the work. My eyes leave the child and scan the room surrounding her. There's small pockets of ash here and there, I notice, a surprising amount for how little her match seems to be producing. It appears to be ever so slightly different from the material that makes up the girl's body, so it's unlikely that it's a part of her. I focus my attention back on the young girl in front of me. "It looks a bit messy here. Should I clean up all of the dust here for you? Just so I can make sure you're comfortable. That's what I'm really here to do, anyway."

The girl appears to fidget more, as I imagine her eyes looking everywhere but me briefly, before I raise a finger to signal that I have something to add. "It's okay if you're still nervous to speak, I won't rush you. You can just nod or shake your head like you did before, okay?" Upon hearing that, her fidgeting stops and she nods in confirmation.

Things seem to be progressing decently well, all things considered. I clap my hands together twice, making sure not to be loud enough to startle her. "Perfect, let's try that again, then. Would you like me to clean up the mess for you?"

She glances towards the soot around the containment unit, before looking back towards me with a nod. I nod back towards her with a smile, grateful that the broom and dustpan I set aside will be allowed to see some use by getting rid of the sooty filth around me. "Okay. You can stand back there for now while I get this all sorted out. Is that alright with you?"

She nods again, and that's a clear signal for me to begin the cleaning. I make sure to sweep thoroughly, ensuring that nothing escapes the dustpan when I attempt to sweep in the ash. I look back towards the girl every now and again to monitor her while I work, and I pause when I see her holding a match in her tiny hands, gazing into the light given off by its flame.

I finish cleaning soon after, but she's still sitting there, gazing into the matchlight as if forgetting everything else. Even while I watch her, she doesn't ever turn to look at me, as if I was never even there. I don't feel the desire to interrupt her. Whatever significance that the burning match has to her, it's significant enough to tell that I shouldn't disturb her.

It gives off a feeling of longing, in a weird way. I can't recall the last time I had ever been so transfixed on something in general, anything that came to mind just wasn't comparable to the look on her face. Normally, I would scold a child for—literally in this case—playing with fire, but given the nature of the Abnormality before me, I don't feel any compulsion to get it out of her hands before she gets burned.

...Oh, that's right. After all, she is...

I can only shake my head at myself. Catching myself quickly before I let myself be distracted by thoughts of reprimand, I turn back towards her. And through all of it, her head doesn't move, not until the light fades and the match burns out. That's when she locks eyes with me, my theory that she hadn't noticed me only further being proven when she nearly jumped at seeing me staring at her.

I give a small wave of my hand, trying to keep her calm. "Sorry if I startled you. You like playing with matches, I notice. Is that right?" I ask, trying to change the subject and hopefully glean more about just what she's doing with those things. Given the ash that she lets slip through her hands and onto the floor, I can only assume that's where the ash I cleaned up came from.

At that, her gaze turns from me to her palms. Something in her face changes, but it's hard to tell what. "...It's not playing."

I can almost hear myself blink. My ears aren't mistaken, nor were my eyes that saw her mouth move, and her palms ball up loosely into fists. For the first time in the entire work session, I heard her speak, and it doesn't sound like she's pleased with my response. That's a poor sign, on top of the match in the girl's chest beginning to burn out the wood.

I don't like the fact that her match is starting to burn when the flame hasn't moved at all this whole time. The fact it only started moving just after I upset her can't be a coincidence. I'm confident they're correlated, and I get a strong impression I should remedy the situation before I find out just what happens when her match fully burns out. "I'm sorry for my mistake, I hope that wasn't rude. It does seem like you're fond of them, though. If you'd like, I'm sure we can get more for you."

She looks back up at me with surprise. The match stops burning out when I say that, and she blinks at me a few times before nodding and looking back down at her palms. "I'd... like that." Her response is short like the last one, only much more soft, in fact it's barely anything above a whisper. Even still, I can sense genuine gratitude coming from it.

It's difficult to hide the forming smile on my face. In the corner of her eye, I'm sure it looks thin, maybe even strained. But she doesn't seem bothered either way, assuming she notices in the first place. Just as the conversation fizzles out, a notification from my PDA lets me know that it's time for me to leave. I look to her and gesture to the device in my hand. "Sorry for the noise, that just means I have to go. I'll be sure to do what I can with the matches, okay? Don't cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

The words slip out of my mouth before they're put into thought. The girl stares at me before she returns to her silent nod-and-shake routine. I nod in return, before quietly leaving the containment unit.

I keep a brisk pace as I leave that unfortunately forces me to stop in my tracks the moment I'm faced with another person turning the corner of a hallway. I look up from a wall of bright, bright green to meet myself with an unfamiliar brown-haired woman peering down at me, who bows to me before I can go to move around her. "I-I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you."

I feel a twinge of confusion at that. "...You didn't bump into me." I watch her go from bowing to standing incredibly straight in half a second, as if called to attention. "Still! That was incredibly close, and you're one of my senior Agents, I should at least give respect and conduct myself with courtesy where it's due."

Again, she's wrong, there was at least a foot and a half of room between us, otherwise her bowing would have resulted in me getting headbutted. But it doesn't take long whatsoever for me to realize what's going on. "You're a new hire that came from the Backstreets. You're figuring out how to properly conduct yourself in an environment with so many people of far higher status than you, so it's lead to you overcorrecting every mistake you make regardless of size, in hopes that you'll fit in more with and to them."

The woman's jaw goes entirely slack for a moment and her eyes wide, with a single noise of "ah-", before her limbs fall to her side in a similar fashion. I count the seconds of how long she stays like that—a total of twelve—before her eye twitches, and she breathes in before giving me a smile so forced that I can feel my face muscles ache. "Ah! I! See! You! Ah! Really. Really have a keen eye! Tell me! How you did that! And also! Has anyone told you, that, ah, maybe going into! Such fine detail! With absolutely nothing in the way of actual evidence not half a minute after meeting someone is a. Very rude and ill-mannered thing to do! And as a first impression, as well, I should add!"

"Because you're not the only Backstreets resident lying around." I reply simply, pointing a single finger at myself and tacitly ignoring the multiple redundancies in her response that further gave away that she was too busy with restraining an urge to snap my neck to focus on fluid speech.

Her mouth opens again, her other hand that's not raising a finger that I'm admittedly grateful isn't the most indecent one is tightly clenched into a fist, before I watch her composure entirely deflate and she lets out a sigh that sounds like it's been held for three times her lifespan. "Well! That makes sense, I guess. You couldn't have just led with that, though?" She looks at me with clear annoyance, though it's not holding back an unearthly rage like she was before. "If you had enough intuition to figure all of that about me out, I feel like there was a better way to go about that exchange."

"It was mainly me testing to see what was underneath that facade, since I'd rather know the real face of my coworker if I'll be working with them in a place where we could die at any moment. It was rude of me though, so I apologize for that." I bow my head to her. It isn't like I wouldn't be just as furious in her shoes, any person that hasn't even seen the comfort of a Nest wouldn't take kindly to being so crudely outed like that.

She leans against the wall and stares ahead of her. "It's pretty damn frustrating when you're on the receiving end. I've put a good amount of work into making myself presentable for a job at a Wing, so much that I worried if I was overthinking it, only for that to be practically torn up before my very eyes in the first thirty seconds of meeting my first Agent face-to-face." Her tone is dry, and she levels a tired gaze at me before gesturing to her hair. "You have any idea how much time it took to get my hair like this? Halfway through trying to get my buns just right, I was practically praying that one of those U Corp. hair coupons would fall from the ceiling and into my hands. Even after all that, my hair still feels a little... I don't know, choppy? Whatever the word is, it's just not coming to me."

I can't help but snort as I gesture for her to follow me into the main room. "Believe me, you have no idea the hellish rat's nest I needed to navigate before coming here. What you see now is just what was good enough to keep, that's why everything looks so spiky. Honestly, if I walked into a salon looking even remotely like how I did, the only thing they'd use their scissors for would be to slit my throat. I haven't seen anyone comment on it, though, so I guess I did a decent enough job to make it that way."

She matches my pace to look at me with narrowed eyes. "You're telling me you did that yourself? You've gotta be shitting me. With how put together it looks, I thought you got it from a barber in the Nest. What, were you one yourself before you came here?"

I can't help but avoid her gaze. "No. And besides, cutting hair other people's hair is very different from cutting your own, even I know that." I respond with a hand on my chin. "I just had experience doing it for someone else every now and again."

It's not like I can blame her for making that mistake, under normal circumstances I'm incredibly particular about my appearance, even down to making sure there are no wrinkles in my clothes or small bits of lint anywhere on me. I don't spare any expense, and that was something I've been sticking to since long before I became a Feather. That's rudimentary stuff for making yourself look presentable, especially for a Fixer.

"So you were always a put together type, then. Won't pry as to how you ended up with a rat's nest, in your words, but I suppose everyone's got their shitty days in the City. Or weeks, or months, or years... eh, you get the gist." She snorts, breaking from her drawl as she looks ahead. She looks back towards me. "Who are you, anyway? I know you're one of the senior Agents, but that's kind of all."

"Emyakeu, Agent #2. You're Agent #6, I'm guessing? I didn't see anyone else at breakfast, and only an idiot would skip it." I notice she seems impressed for some reason, likely due to my seniority. She nods in reply. "Didn't see anyone either. You're right about my number though, call me Aurora. Pleasure." She extends a hand, which I quickly take. It's an awkward handshake, given neither of us were particularly interested in halting our pace beforehand, but it's sufficient enough. "The pleasure's all mine."

The door to the main room opens to us, and it's at that moment that a thought strikes me. "Wait a second, where even were you this morning? Don't tell me you showed up late, because I'm not backing you up if Yesod has something to say about it." I severely hope she wasn't. It wasn't as if I was afraid of being chastised myself, it's something I'm not unfamiliar with, especially early on in my Fixer career, but a world in which I'd be eager to be in earshot of one from the scathing Sephirah simply did not exist.

"It was quite the opposite, actually." An unexpected voice to the left nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Aurora doesn't fare any better, as evident by the fact her entire body recoils and she nearly falls right onto me, though I'd already prepared to sidestep her the moment I heard Yesod speak. The Sephirah stares plainly at the two of us, and I see Aurora stiffen with dread. "Agent #6 was precisely an hour early, she even reached the main room before a number of the Clerks did."

She puts her hands up to try and stop him. "W-wait, Mr. Yesod, we already went through this, you don't have to...!" She stammers out, but he doesn't seem even remotely phased. "Oh? I'm simply answering Agent #2's question. As I was saying, she had endeavored to make a better impression by beating her senior staff to the Department, going so far as to eat breakfast as early as possible. This wasn't necessary, as work would not begin until our already listed hours. So I would avoid doing something similar in the future, you'd be sacrificing precious hours of sleep for no benefit, even if it's not something that I'm typically obliged to punish."

I can only really give a stunned nod before I look to Aurora. A small whine escapes her pursed lips as she tries to control her acute shaking, before she eventually winds down. Yesod hasn't left, I notice, staring directly at me. Any longer, and I imagine he'd start tapping his metal leg with impatience. "Ah, right, I assume you'd like to receive my report about the new Abnormality while you're here. Is that right?"

"Correct." Yesod replies. I quickly nod and hand him my work log, which he already begins reading. "I made sure to attach specific requests from F-01-02 that may hopefully keep her content." I add, and he looks up from the file briefly. "Good. If there is nothing else, I'll continue to review this in my office. You're both dismissed."

I pat Aurora on the back to make sure she won't fall on her face the moment I walk away. "If it's any consolation, he's not just doing that to you specifically." I mutter. She breathes in through her teeth, before sitting down on the first free desk. "Right, then... how did your work with that Abno go?"

I can't help but nearly collapse onto the desk next to hers. "I got her in a decent mood, if nothing else." I struggle to say anything else on the matter, most of it is just internal admonition at how careless my perception of her was. If luck was on my side, that wouldn't show through too hard in the feed or the log I wrote down, otherwise the next meeting I have with Yesod is going to be even less pleasant.

Treating Abnormalities like anything but what they are is a treacherous idea, I thought I'd learned that sufficiently from Punishing Bird, but there I was, treating that Abnormality like a real, human child. Maybe that turned out alright in the end, I felt nothing at all in terms of physical or mental backlash like what's common from work sessions, and as things stood, I couldn't yet bear to look at the Enkephalin that was gathered from it, but the fact is that I dropped my guard like a fool, even if it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. I'm beginning to feel like how Susan probably was yesterday, trying to justify what may have been a shortcoming, no, certainly was, in my case, but I simply can't come up with any further words to say.

It's just an utter embarrassment.

A snapping of fingers in front of my face remind me that Aurora is even there. "Hey, hey, you still there? You've been looking at the ceiling for like, three minutes now." I lean my head upward. "Yes, sorry, just in my own head about it, I suppose." I respond noncommittally. Aurora clicks her tongue, almost sounding disappointed for whatever reason. "Yeah, I figured, you have that overthinking look on your face. Seen it a few times before, so I can recognize it pretty quick by now."

Overthinking? I would hardly call it that. Sure, I was blocking out a lot to focus on my own train of thought, highly unbecoming of me as it is, but I should address every error I make as soon as possible to make sure that doesn't happen in the future. Given the fact that we're dealing with beings this esoteric and abstruse on a daily basis, correcting mistakes like the ones I made is necessary if you don't want to get yourself killed.

"Right," Aurora interrupts, making me realize that I was saying all of that aloud, "but if you're going to get that distracted and focus on only flaws, you might end up missing something important in the process like a work order and end up in even deeper trouble for it." She critiques. I let out a sigh. "I know that, but still."

Working with the Abnormality was enjoyable only because I forgot my place and what I was dealing with. It's such an absolute mess that I almost want to laugh about it.

"Aht!" Aurora goes to snap at me again, but I raise my hand. "I'm not zoning out again, don't worry about it. It's just a pain to not know how I did in actuality, all I'm left with is my own perception of what went wrong."

I hear someone coming, then a tap on my shoulder. I turn my head to greet a stoic expression complimented by reddish hair in twintails and sideswept bangs, someone I recognize as that Clerk I bump into every now and again. Her clothing's changed from a mahogany suit to a violet vest with a white shirt underneath. She shows me a handful of papers, which I quickly realize are a codified version of my report and additional information on the new Abnormality, which I simply dubbed Scorched Girl.

Before I can read too deep into the files, she taps her finger on one specific part of the first paper. Listed is my work result juxtaposed with her mood range and approximate maximum Enkephalin output, which is a total of one past the number of boxes I'd harvested.

"Ah."

"You know, you could have just asked for the data or looked more at that gadget you've got for it rather than getting all melodramatic and paranoid over it." She sighs.

"And that's...?" Aurora gestures to her. I raise my finger, only for it to fall short after I realize that I never asked. The Clerk watches my reaction with a raised brow and a grin. "Finally realized, they did. Anyway, I'm called Epsilon5, good to meet you and thank you very much for asking."

Aurora stares at her for a number of seconds. "That is not even remotely a name. I'm sorry that happened to you." 'Epsilon5' breathes in, her eye briefly twitching. "Have neither of you heard that Clerks aren't exactly encouraged to share their real names? We get classification numbers, and that's it."

It's something I was vaguely aware of, but Aurora seems caught off-guard. "Really?! Shit, I thought our 'Agent number this' and 'Agent number that' deal was rough, but that's somehow even more dehumanizing." She grimaces with displeasure, and Epsilon5 scoffs. "Better than not being known at all, I guess. Still, it's pretty obvious that that's all part of the design, even if it sounds backwards to me."

"Either way, much as I wanna sit and chat, I've got paperwork to file and CCTVs to monitor, so that's all you're getting from me, Agents number This and That." She snorts, making her way back to a desk in the corner and beginning to file away a somewhat alarming amount of papers to her right. Aurora leans back in her chair as she stares at me. "Listen, I don't know what kind of stigma you've got against that thing, but you should probably cool off if you want to avoid making a serious mistake."

I hear a beep from Aurora's pocket that signifies a Work order, nodding to herself. "Insight with Scorched Girl. Well, wish me luck." She shrugs, before getting up from her chair and turning to leave.

I suffered a near meltdown just from working with that Abnormality, and we're not even that far into the day. Wings, I barely know what to think of myself right now.

I know it was just bad luck. Scorched Girl is just an Abnormality, nothing more. I know I'm going to face so many strange, absurd, or horrific things if I'm going to keep working here, she wouldn't be anything significant to other people, it's not like these things were handcrafted to torment a specific person with horrible imagery of their worst memories, such a thing is almost inconceivable, let alone grossly illogical, but even knowing that, I can't stop myself from feeling like she was.

Her hair was almost the same, from what little I could see of it from within her hood, she had the same initial skittish air about her that I couldn't just write off. I blink back tears when I realize that I can't escape this train of thought, regardless of how much it irks me to think about. It's like I can still hear the disappointed voices of my colleagues telling me to get a grip and focus.

She's about the same age as how she would be if she were still here, and looking back, her voice sounded so painfully similar that I clench my teeth thinking about it being what she would have sounded like, and the more I try to get that thought out of my head, the more it only gets louder.

Despite all of that, it's clearly not her. She started out as skittish as she did, but I saw her turn into the walking ball of joy I remember her best as, and I last saw her trying to wear a braid similar to mine, those pigtails were from far too long ago. Maybe they'd sound incredibly alike, maybe even wholly identical, but it isn't like children's voices are wholly unique, plenty sound almost indistinguishable from each other. And the nail in the coffin of my foolish thinking isn't just that she's gone, it's that I know she would recognize me if that were her against all possibility.

That's how I know it's all just a coincidence, a stroke of pure misfortune and nothing more. How I know it couldn't be my Rina.