Somewhere deep beneath the earth, a secret meeting was about to begin.
Down a narrow, crumbling staircase that looked like it had been carved straight out of an ancient dungeon, an old man walked slowly, tapping his cane against the cold stone steps. The shadows seemed to stretch and coil around him, as if even the darkness itself recognized who he was. Behind him, Felix followed, alert but uncertain.
It was the first time he'd been invited down here. He didn't know what to expect.
"How come this takes place right under HQ?" Felix asked, his voice echoing faintly off the damp walls.
"You know what they say," the old man replied, a strange smile tugging at his lips. "Hide in plain sight."
That smile made Felix's stomach churn.
"Why hide from the Agency?"
"Oh, not from them," the man said, voice almost amused. "Not particularly, at least."
"Then from who?"
"From every living soul on this goddamn earth."
They reached a wooden door, worn and cracked with age, illuminated only by the flickering flame of a torch on the wall beside it. Before opening it, the old man turned to Felix with an intensity that pierced through the gloom.
"You know that once you step inside, there's no going back, right?"
Felix looked him straight in the eye. "You've been preparing me for this since I was a kid, haven't you?"
The old man grinned, energized by the response, and pushed the door open.
They entered a circular chamber, stone walls rising around them like the inside of a tomb. In the center stood a great round table of blackened stone, with a fire pit built into its core. The fire crackled, casting shifting shadows across the room. Around the table were nine chairs, each one with a number carved into the backrest.
Seven were already occupied. Two remained empty — the seats marked One and Eight.
The old man moved without hesitation to seat number One and took his place. Felix stayed back, scanning the room. The fire's light didn't reach the faces of those present; all he could see were outlines, shoulders, eyes occasionally glinting in the dark.
"Greetings, gentlemen," said the old man — now revealed to be One.
A low groan came from across the table. One of the figures twisted his face as if something reeked.
"I see you brought a guest," he said, voice rasping like gravel. He was Three.
"Indeed," One answered calmly. Felix stepped closer. A collective sigh rose from the room.
Three chuckled darkly, the sound echoing unnaturally. "I see… the last of House Morvain. What an honor to meet you."
Felix froze.
That name — House Morvain — made his blood run cold. It had been years since anyone had said it aloud. A name he once longed to hear with pride… and now despised with every fiber of his being.
Another voice broke the silence — sharper, more confrontational. It came from the fourth seat.
"How do we know he can be trusted?"
The others held their breath.
One turned his head slightly, his voice colder than the stone beneath them. "Are you questioning my judgment, Four?"
Then, without waiting for a reply, he added, "And as far as I can see, I'm not the only one who brought a guest."
His gaze shifted toward the shadows behind seat Nine. There, barely visible, stood a towering figure in a long cloak. Thick dreadlocks spilled from beneath his hood, but he remained utterly still.
One leaned forward.
"Now... where the hell is Eight?"
"No idea," said Five with a shrug. "You're the one handling the invitations. You should know."
One's grip tightened around his cane. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Inside, he was fuming.
"What now?" asked Seven. "We can't do this without him. It won't work."
One rubbed his temple, his frustration mounting. The meeting was slipping through his fingers. They might have to postpone, and the worst part was — no one knew how long they'd have to wait.
He hated delays.
Do it fast, he always said. Don't give them time to think.
He looked up toward the ceiling, as if the sky might be watching, and wondered bitterly: Is he laughing at us right now?
A bright blue sky hung over Blitz's former school, soft clouds drifting lazily overhead. Inside, Nina was finishing their story — recounting how they'd met the desperate father and promised to help him find his missing son.
"Oh, the poor man," said Mrs. Graham, her voice cracking with empathy. "To end up drinking in a library... that's just heartbreaking."
Nina shot a playful wink at Cole. He returned a nod, understated but respectful. Maybe, just maybe, she was more than talk. She might actually be useful.
"So you're a detective now?" came a woman's voice from the doorway.
Blitz turned instantly. He recognized her tone before anything else.
Melissa.
She stood there with the same composed presence he remembered — straight black hair, piercing brown eyes, a smirk that always suggested she knew something you didn't. Mrs. Graham's niece. His former classmate.
"Still eavesdropping, I see," Blitz said, smiling.
"Some things never change," she replied. "Am I right, Arthu—"
"It's Blitz now," he interrupted quickly.
"Blitz? Like the card game?" Melissa raised an eyebrow. "You still playing that?"
"Nah... It's like the one from the camera," Blitz answered, fumbling a little. "I'm a photographer."
Mrs. Graham sighed and slapped her forehead.
"Yeah," Cole cut in. "He took pictures of me and my sister at the library. When we found that guy. He's good."
"Oh, really? Show me some," Melissa said, stepping closer with interest.
"If that guy hadn't smashed my camera, I would've," Blitz replied, his voice carrying a tinge of regret.
"How unlucky..." Melissa said, her tone unreadable.
"I know. Maybe next time," Blitz offered.
They both laughed lightly. But not everyone was smiling.
At the back of the room, in his chair, Joey hadn't moved. His arms were folded tight over his stomach, and though no one had addressed him, his eyes were locked on every word. Every gesture. His body didn't react, but something in his face was changing. Slowly. As if his mind was working its way through a storm it couldn't quite speak.
He just sat there, listening to what they were saying. How his and Alex's class had been on the trip where Melissa was doing her internship a week ago. How the police already checked the place. How they checked every other spot the kid had been to. All without any real success.
The conversation kept going. The teachers kept explaining things like it would help somehow. And little by little, his look began to change. Like he desperately wanted to say something but his body wouldn't let him.
"You can swing by the lab if you want," Melissa offered casually. "I was heading back anyway."
That moment hit Joey like a slap to the chest.
A strange noise escaped his throat. Not a word. Just a fractured sound — halfway between a gasp and a cry. The room fell silent, heads turning.
Joey's eyes were wide, pleading. His whole body trembled, and still, the words wouldn't come.
"I'll take care of this," Nina said, stepping in quickly, motioning the others to stay back.
"I don't know," Blitz said to Melissa, still unsure. "You sure that's not gonna be a problem?"
While they kept talking, Nina crouched beside Joey.
"Hey… are you okay? I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to—"
Joey leaned forward, lips barely moving.
"It's her," he whispered. "She's the one who took Alex."
Everything around her stopped. Nina's breath caught. Her thoughts scrambled for something logical, something sane — but found nothing. No way he could know that. He had to be confused. Or scared. Or both.
"Listen," she said, voice soft, trying to bring him back, "it's okay to be afraid, but that doesn't mean you have to—"
She reached out and took his hand. The vision hit her like cold water.
It pulled her out of the room — out of time, out of breath, out of self — and into somewhere else entirely. She was standing in a bedroom. A normal kid's bedroom. Wooden bookshelves overflowing with manga, posters covering the walls — bright colors, animated faces frozen in mid-action. A game console sat under the TV, its blinking light the only sign of movement.
At the desk, a boy was hunched over, drawing.
She stepped closer, unsure how she was moving, unsure if she was even really there. The boy didn't seem to notice her. His head was tilted, his pen scribbling fast, like he was trying to get something out before he lost it.
The drawing made her stop. She felt heat rise to her cheeks. The kid had talent, no doubt. But the picture… the picture was obscene. He had drawn himself — clearly him — doing intimate things with a woman. A tall woman with long, straight hair and a white lab coat.
The boy kept going, humming a little to himself. There was a smile on his face. Not guilty. Not ashamed. Just… proud.
A soft tap hit the window. Somebody threw a rock, maybe.
He paused. Crumpled the drawing without hesitation, stuffed it in his pocket. He turned off the lights and opened the window with a practiced ease, like he'd done it before. And as he climbed out, the room began to fade.
Nina's breath quickened. The images blurred, slipping through her fingers like water. Just before it all went dark, she caught one last glimpse: The boy walking down a quiet street at night, holding the hand of a woman much taller than him.
She didn't know who he was. If only the grieving father had shown her a photo, she would've known instantly. That this, was Alexander Hoffman.
Everybody was around her when she came back, her head spinning slightly. Joey was staring at her with a look of fascination, while the others seemed more concerned. Except for Cole. He knew exactly what had just happened the moment it did.
"Nina, are you okay?" Blitz asked, his voice laced with worry.
"Yeah, yeah," Nina replied dismissively, brushing it off. "Just a long day. Didn't get much sleep last night. Cole snores like a damn truck."
"Put the blame on me, sure," Cole shot back, his usual teasing tone making them smile. "How original..."
"So," Melissa cut in, "you're not coming?"
Nina blinked, a little dazed. "Where?"
"The lab, dumbass," Cole answered with a grin.
"Oh, right, sorry," Nina shook her head, trying to shake the fog away. "Of course, we'll come. Can't wait to see what you've got in store for us."
"Well, kids usually love it," Melissa said with a smirk. "But I'm sure there's enough here to blow your mind, too. Shall we?"
They all nodded as Melissa pulled out her phone, quickly tapping away.
"I'll call ahead to make sure everything's ready for us," she said, already heading out the door with the phone to her ear. Blitz followed, and then Nina and Cole trailed behind, keeping a little distance.
Cole didn't hesitate for a second before stepping closer to Nina, his voice low and serious.
"How bad?"
"The worst," Nina said slowly, her voice barely a whisper, making sure no one else could hear them. "I think it's a trap."
Cole frowned, his expression hardening as he prepared for whatever was coming next. "You think we can trust him?" he muttered, nodding toward Blitz.
Nina hesitated for a moment, the weight of the unknown pressing on her chest. "I don't know," she finally said, her voice steady despite the uncertainty. "But right now, he's all we've got."
They kept walking, the gap between them and the others widening with every step.
Blitz wasn't dumb. He was sharp, always thinking. And that made him dangerous. Of course, he had heard them. But maybe... just maybe, that would be the thing that's going to save them in the end.
Outside, under the unforgiving blaze of the sun, Felix felt like he'd earned himself another cigarette. He lit it with a slight tremble in his fingers, the smoke curling lazily into the dry air. Beside him stood the old man, his presence as unreadable as always.
"That went well…" Felix said, trying to lift the mood with a smirk. "What are you going to do about Eight?"
"To be honest, I have no idea," One replied without turning.
Felix frowned. He had always believed the old man could do anything.
"Shouldn't you be able to find them? In case something like this happens?"
"It doesn't work like that," One said flatly. "I can't know their names. Especially not their numbers."
"Why?"
"Because if we shared each other's secrets… who knows what the others would do with them? It creates leverage, power. I can't even begin to imagine the schemes and backstabbing. Maybe someone would even start the event... by themselves."
"That's possible?"
"Indeed," a third voice cut in.
They spun around in sync. A man was approaching them casually. He wore beach shorts and a ridiculous pink shirt patterned with pineapples. He looked like he belonged more in a sun chair with a cocktail than here.
"Maybe some are thinking about it already," he added, grinning.
"And you are?" One asked, eyes narrowing.
"Like I'm about to tell you," the man replied, smile widening.
"Then what's the reason for your visit?" One insisted, tone sharp.
"I need your help." His voice turned serious, cutting through the mockery. "I need you to find Eight. Given your status in the agency, it shouldn't be that hard."
One burst into laughter. "I thought you heard what we talked about. You know I can't. And I don't want to, either. So why do you care?"
"I think something bad happened." That got One's attention instantly.
"You've got something to tell me?" he asked, voice low.
The man hesitated. Then his expression darkened.
"Listen… I know I fucked up, but I told him who I was. Once."
One's jaw tightened. "And?"
"He sent me a letter. A month ago. Before we got your invites. Told me to meet him in a park. So I went and he came and sat next to me on a bench."
Felix and One held their breath. The man in pink hesitated, eyes flicking downward as he recalled the moment.
"He said he found an anomaly."
They froze. Even One—the always composed, always prepared One—staggered internally.
"You sure—?"
"I don't know, man," the man interrupted, voice shaky now. "When he said those words, I got up and left. Didn't ask questions. I've changed apartments four times since. Just to be sure. But after what happened today…"
"It can't be a coincidence," One murmured.
"Or it could be one of the schemes you mentioned," Felix snapped, eyes locked on One.
The man in pink shrugged. "Believe what you want. I just did what I thought was right."
One studied him for a long moment. His instincts screamed at him from both sides—but still, something about the man's fear felt real.
"I'll look into it," he said finally. "An anomaly is no joke."
"I know, man. Thanks. And… take care."
Felix stared down at the ground, lost in thought.
"You too, Mirrorborn," the man added, looking right at him. He gave a grin. "Word is you got your hands on one of them too."
He turned and walked away without looking back.
One was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the suspicious way Felix was looking at him. He was the only person who knew, besides himself. Or was he?