Going with the two SPECTR agents and ignoring Doom had created a heavy silence between him and his system.
There was really only one reason Mikel hesitated to fully accept this new, supernatural reality: when he had chosen to get the eye without a second thought, what had that decision gotten him?
So now, he thought he should think things through. Doom's requests — or what it called [Objectives] — seemed like harmless progression. But what if it started asking for something more complicated? Something that required a moral sacrifice?
Making the mistake of accepting this eye was one thing. But to keep making mistakes? He might as well have donated his brain.
Tonight, though, a decision had to be made: get haunted and die, or co-exist with Doom and face a slim chance of survival. Of course, he wasn't going to do the latter just because Doom fed him selective information.
Mikel sat in the backseat of a sedan, flicking his gaze between the two people in the front. Danika was behind the wheel, and Amon rode shotgun. Neither had said a word since they left, five minutes ago.
They clearly knew things. Listening to what they had to say was better than paying a sham.
"Where are you taking me?" Mikel broke the silence, his eyes flicking between the two agents, watching for any subtle tells.
Danika kept her gaze on the road. "To a place that can answer all your questions."
"All my questions?" he repeated, voice tinged with skepticism.
"You've seen it," she replied, voice flat and clipped. "The thing that destroyed your neighborhood."
"Do you know who he was?"
This time, Danika glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "He?"
That single word lodged a breath in Mikel's throat. His brows furrowed as he stared at her in the mirror.
She turned her eyes back to the road.
"According to your profile, you shouldn't be able to see them. You belong to the majority who can't perceive anything beyond the living. So we're assuming you accidentally opened your Spirit Lens." She paused, then added, "Or the previous owner of your implanted eye had activated theirs, and sometimes, it passes on through residual spirit energy. That is one possibility."
"Spirit Lens?"
Danika exhaled shallowly, as if explaining it for the hundredth time. "It's what some people call a Third Eye that makes you see ghosts. In Zone Zero, we call it a Spirit Lens."
Mikel nodded slowly. "I've heard of Zone Zero. What is it?"
"You must've heard it from Stefan."
"Is he your friend?"
"Friend?" Danika gave a soft snort. "No. But he was the one who submitted your profile to SPECTR, though."
Amon, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "Zone Zero is the organization that created SPECTR. SPECTR is one of its divisions—split into multiple units that deal with different types of paranormal and supernatural activity."
"Amon and I," Danika continued, "are part of the Intelligence Crew. Our job is to research and gather data on different classes of Spectral Entities." She hesitated, searching for the simpler term. "We study different types of ghosts."
Mikel paused, absorbing all of it without missing a beat.
"Now, time for me to ask something," Danika's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "How did you kill it?"
"Huh?"
"It was you, wasn't it? The one who neutralized the entity."
Mikel kept his mouth shut, eyeing Danika and Amon's posture, their tone, and their auras. Answering wasn't the issue—it was what his answer might lead to.
"It's alright if you don't want to say anything now," she said after a moment of silence. "I asked because the one you fought was a Type II — Wraith. Or at least, that's what I assume, since you'd already killed it before I could analyze it."
Mikel almost scoffed. "You categorize ghosts now?"
"Classifying them helps us understand how to deal with them—and what kind of people are required to handle them," she replied, her eyes flicking to him in the rearview mirror. "At this point, I think you're starting to understand that there's more to this world than what most people believe. And if my assumptions are correct, that type should've killed you."
Silence fell again, thick and heavy.
Kill me?
Mikel looked to his left and saw Doom's message still hovering.
[Calculating…]
What's taking you so long?
[Calculating…]
He turned away, too drained to care anymore. He didn't have the energy to deal with Doom tonight.
What Mikel didn't know was that Doom had finished calculating long ago. It was simply listening, observing, profiling, and... strategizing behind his retina.
"By the way—"
"If you have any more questions, save them for later," Danika interjected just before he could ask. "You'll get answers. If not all, then most — I believe."
Mikel frowned slightly, his fingertips brushing the book cover resting on his leg. "Where are you taking me?"
"You'll find out soon."
As soon as Danika replied, Mikel noticed a dim glow through the window. He turned his head, brows knitting as he realized they were approaching what looked like a massive mansion. He had expected these two to take him to a police station or something similar, not an elegant home with an excessively long driveway and gardens lit with fairy lights.
As Mikel observed the lights — bulbs strung along the trees and bushes — he noticed paper-like notes folded and tied among them.
"Are those… talismans?" he asked.
"They keep the place free from intruders," Amon answered, surprisingly.
Mikel glanced at the front passenger seat, catching Amon staring out his window.
"Talismans are a good way to repel spirits from entering or leaving the premises," he added, snapping his gaze forward again.
At that moment, the car screeched to a halt. Without a word, both Danika and Amon unbuckled and jumped out. They didn't even invite Mikel to follow, leaving him blinking in confusion.
"Hey, wait!"
When Mikel finally stepped out, he saw an old man in a butler's suit approaching.
"Good evening, Butler Basil," Amon greeted politely, while Danika gave a slight bow.
Mikel raised his brows, a little taken aback by the sudden politeness from the two — especially Danika. Shifting his gaze to the butler, he saw a tall, slim man with white hair, visible wrinkles, and a gentle demeanor. Both of his eyes squinted into what looked like a permanent slit.
"Good evening, Miss Danika and Sir Amon," Butler Basil greeted, then turned to Mikel. "And good evening to you, Sir Mikel."
"You know me?" Mikel pointed at himself.
"I was informed by Miss Danika," the butler replied succinctly.
"Butler Basil, is the head master inside?" Danika asked, drawing his attention.
"He's been waiting. Please, follow me," Butler Basil said, motioning toward the mansion's portico, then smiled at Mikel. "This way, please."
With that, the butler led the way, Amon and Danika following a step behind. Mikel, however, lingered for a moment, looking up at the grand front doors and the ironically peaceful, beautiful surroundings. It felt strange — not long ago, he had been in the ruins of one of the poorest areas of District 5. Now, he stood amidst splendor.
Shaking the thought away, Mikel glanced to his side. The system screen had disappeared, but he knew it was still calculating. He didn't dwell on it as he stepped forward, bracing to meet the Headmaster of this grand estate.
He had expected someone sophisticated — knowledgeable, dignified. But when they entered the room where the Headmaster was waiting, Mikel found himself face-to-face with… a floating blanket ghost, drifting around happily.
What the…
Mikel blinked. Surely, this wasn't the Headmaster. Unless being a haunted bedsheet came with tenure.