Sworded Affair

By the time the feeling of wrongness fully subsided, Emma had secured the Private Military Contractor (a polite term for mercenary, after the latter word had fallen out of fashion in recent years). His rifle sat safely out of reach on the floor across the room, whilst the man himself had been forced to his knees, Epitaph at his neck to ensure he didn't do anything (else) stupid.

"I've not seen you around before," Amal mentioned, eyes narrowed as he examined the Private Military Contractor. "There's four security guards who regularly work this building, and you aren't one of them. A new hire, maybe? Could certainly use some more training; why would you position yourself right at the door when you've got a rifle to work with?"

"That's your cue to answer," Emma encouraged the man, Epitaph edging ever so slightly closer to his jugular.

"It's not my fault!" The man protested. "My glasses broke, and I don't see so well without them."

"Your glasses?" Amal cupped his chin in thought before realization struck. "Ah, I stand corrected. You look like a completely different man without them, Trevor, and I suppose that explains the wide shot as well; I recall you being much better with a gun than today's display showed. Putting that aside though, I think I speak for both the young lady and myself when I say this: what the hell is going on here?"

Trevor didn't look like he wanted to answer, so Emma drew her blade back, breaking the slightest bit of skin to drive the point home.

"New orders from the top," Trevor broke immediately, not so loyal as to throw away his life over classified information. "We were told to shred the important documents and burn them. Then Noah got called away, and the rest of us were told to wait here, chase off any visitors and listen in for further instructions."

"That's all you've heard for the past three days?" Emma pressed. "Actually, how are you communicating at all? Signals have been down since then."

"That's all I've heard, and I'm not sure." Trevor shrugged. "I just work security, nobody at HQ tells me anything important. All I know is we have the regular phones, which aren't working and the backup red phones which are, though they only connect to a single line at HQ. No dialpad, you know what I mean?"

[A landline? No, those are still reliant on wires and exchanges remaining intact. Satellite? Possible, but how are people on the ground reaching them if signals are down?]

"Bring us to the phones," Emma ordered, wanting to know the answer to those questions as well.

Leaving his rifle behind, Trevor led them deeper into the building, Emma at his back a single step behind to ensure he didn't try to run whilst Amal brought up the rear. The contrast was stark: whereas the reception was lavish, all silk rugs and chandeliers as befitted a proper manor; the interior rooms were all business, white walls bare of decoration, plastic chairs and stacks of documents on every desk and shelf.

"Who else is here?" Amal asked as they approached a locked door, Trevor fumbling in his pockets for the key.

"Just me now," Trevor replied as he unlocked the door, shoving it open carelessly. "We don't keep much food here; usually we eat at home after our shifts, so never really saw the need. Jason and Cam both got tired of hardtack and tinned tuna after the first day and decided they'd rather take their chances going home. Man, they're going to be in trouble once the brass find out..."

"Only the three of you?" Emma frowned as she followed Trevor into a small private office, the aforementioned red phone sitting pride of place on a very dusty desk. "There were a lot more cars than that parked up front."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"No other parking in the village," Trevor shrugged. "There's only a few employees, so we rent spare spaces to the locals for a bit of cash on the side. It's still cheaper than public parking, so everyone's happy."

"It's true," Amal confirmed. "I don't own a car myself, but I've heard the youngsters talk about it on occasion."

Deeming mundane corruption a reasonable enough explanation, Emma tuned out Trevor and began to examine the phone. It looked normal enough that nothing in particular stood out, albeit being dated enough to feature in a late 90s period drama. There were no obvious lines leading away to a plug, though given the phone was fixed to the desk Emma suspected a built-in unit.

"No drawers either," Emma remarked after checking every surface. " We probably can't get at the electronics without breaking the thing first."

As Emma wound up to do just that, Trevor stepped in the way.

"Before you do that, how about I try calling first?" Trevor asked. "Doubt we'll get any real answers from HQ, but you never know. Maybe they'll send us some better food at least?"

Tilting her head, Emma thought about it for a bit before nodding, given the request seemed harmless enough.

"Go ahead, but if you scream you're a dead man."

As it turned out, Emma's casual warning - one even she hadn't expected to be needed - proved very precognizant, as the moment Trevor picked up the receiver a most horrific wailing began to play at an ear splitting volume.

[Radio Demon - Level 1

-10 Anima.

Confused debuff resisted.

Turn that racket off!]

With a guttural growl, Trevor turned and lunged for Emma, eyes red and teeth bared. He made it two whole steps before Emma cut through him cleanly; angling her blade diagonally such that Epitaph's tip thudded into the desk at the conclusion of her swing, allowing a directed burst of Death magic to wipe the slate clean. The supernatural shriek quickly cut off as the receiver was torn to pieces, splattered against the way amidst flurries of paper launched airborne by the shock-wave.

[15 EXP gained.]

"That was goddamned creepy," Emma complained, turning away towards Amal. "You alright?"

"Nothing I haven't heard before," The wizened wizard shook his head, giving her a thumbs up. "Seems my intuition was spot on though. Do you remember that strange sensation when you first subdued Trevor?"

Emma nodded, finding it easy to recall the distinctive feeling of ice down her back.

"It feels different for each practitioner, depending on their lore and experiences, but it also tends to be consistent across encounters for each practitioner. So remember that feeling well, because it indicates a gateway across space being formed. My rite stopped the intrusion early on, otherwise we'd most likely be dealing with something far worse than a mere malicious spirit inhabiting a telephone."

"I need to learn how to do that, even with the drawbacks it seems really useful to have," Emma noted, glancing towards the persistent status at the corner of her vision.

[Inventory disabled. Fast travel disabled.]

"Oh it is," Amal agreed wholeheartedly. "Though I doubt my method would work for you in this case. I'm sure you'll find a way though; it's always much easier to disrupt a gateway than to make one; and on that note, we should probably look for the cause of today's. Such things don't just appear by chance, and the reasons behind them are rarely good."

—

Emma Knight - Level 4 Revenant

Race: Undead {LOCKED}

Alignment: True Neutral

Anima: 250

EXP: 425/600

Abilities

Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph} (Cost: 50% current Anima)

Traits

Arcanivore: Enemies restore Anima when wounded or slain.

Wolf, Ram and Heart: All attacks imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage dealt.

Inventory

Tea Kit (Holy Tea, Kettle, Teacups, Matches)

Add-Ons

Music Player: Most of YouTube's hits, all in your head.

Fast Travel

Academia Mortalis

Main Quests

404 - Answers Not Found

Objective: Discover the cause of the Apocalypse

Reward: ERROR

Blood Borne

Objective: Find your Father

Objective: Find your Mother

Reward: ???

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