Project:Imagine

Chapter 12-Calm Before the Storm



The castle stood as a formidable relic of the past, its imposing stone walls and towering spires casting long shadows over the rugged landscape. Hidden away in the misty hills, the ancient structure exuded an air of both grandeur and foreboding. Ivy climbed up the weathered stone, weaving a tapestry of green against the gray facade. The castle’s architecture blended Gothic and medieval styles, with arched windows and intricate carvings that whispered secrets of centuries gone by. It was steeped in history, where the echoes of long-forgotten events still lingered in the air.

Inside the castle, the meeting room was a stark contrast to the cold, stony exterior. Warm light from flickering torches and a grand chandelier illuminated the space, casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries depicting legendary battles and mythical creatures, adding a touch of elegance and mystique. At the center of the room stood a magnificent round table, carved from dark oak and inlaid with intricate designs of gold and silver. Twelve high-backed chairs surrounded the table, each one a masterpiece of craftsmanship, upholstered in deep red velvet.

Six of the twelve seats were filled, their occupants deep in discussion. The atmosphere was thick with tension and anticipation. The heavy wooden door at the far end of the room remained closed, ensuring their conversation stayed private. The flickering light danced off the faces of those present, revealing a mixture of determination and concern. As the meeting continued, the weight of their decisions pressed heavily upon them, knowing the impact they would have on the world outside the castle's ancient walls.

Alongside Nikolai, Scarlet, and Lucia, three other individuals joined them. The first was a formidable presence, a muscular man whose body was a canvas of red-inked tattoos forming the shape of crimson thorns wrapping around his limbs and torso. His left arm was a sophisticated prosthetic, seamlessly integrated into his flesh, giving him an aura of mechanical might. His head, whether a mask or his actual visage, took the shape of a black crow, with beady eyes that seemed to pierce through the dim light. This was Adam Knight, known in A.E.G.I.S’s database by the codename, The Crow.

Next to him sat a flamboyant figure, a blonde man who exuded an air of nonchalant confidence. He wore a top hat and a flowing black cloak, his attire completed by a sweater vest adorned with various trinkets and charms. His deep blue eyes were mostly hidden behind a white half-faced mask, with two red diamonds painted onto his face. His feet were casually propped up on the table as he played a game on a portable console, seemingly indifferent to the gravity of the meeting. This was Calum Nash, classified under the codename, The Mockingbird.

The final figure was an enigma, their gender indeterminate. They wore a striking red mask over their face, and the rest of their body was concealed by a black cloak and layers of dark clothing. Atop their head sat a black straw hat, adding an old-world charm to their mysterious appearance. Around their neck hung a yellow necklace shaped like the sun, and in their hand, they held a golden scepter that gleamed under the torchlight. Their voice, when they spoke, was altered to obscure their identity further. Known only by their codename, The Hummingbird, their real name remained unknown, adding to the aura of mystery that surrounded them.

As for the other three, Nikolai was classified as The Dove, Scarlet as The Phoenix, and Lucia as The Finch. Together, these six individuals formed a council of power and secrecy, each with their own distinct abilities and roles within the organization. The meeting room, with its rich tapestries and flickering torchlight, bore witness to their gathering, the air thick with the weight of unspoken agendas and hidden motives.

“I've called you all here to discuss the upcoming mission. On September 13th, only the six of us will participate. I didn't feel the need to summon the others, especially since some of them are rather busy with their own missions,” Nikolai said calmly, his voice steady and authoritative.

“Yeah, yeah, boss. Honestly, I want to get back to my room. Emelia and I were just about to beat that annoying boss we've been attempting for the last week,” Calum complained, lounging back in his chair.

At that moment, Hummingbird slammed the base of their scepter to the ground. A sharp, piercing sound reverberated throughout the room, and the glass on Calum’s game shattered. The last image displayed on the screen before it broke was “Game Over.”

“What was that for, you masked bastard!” Calum yelled, glaring at Hummingbird.

“You need to learn some respect. This mission is important. We recently lost a member of our council. If you don't pay attention, you will be next, brat,” Hummingbird's cold, distorted voice responded, cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Thank you. If Emelia is here, can you request she come down? I understand she hates leaving her room, but the more we have, the better,” Nikolai requested, turning back to the matter at hand.

Hummingbird nodded and spoke into their scepter before slamming it to the ground once more. A small orb of condensed sound was created, traveling throughout the castle. Moments later, a woman entered the room. She had long, purple hair adorned with various star hair clips, her locks messy and unkempt. Her eye was a deep purple, and an eye patch covered her left eye. She wore a matching set of black pajamas with golden stars, and heavy bags under her eyes indicating it had been a while since she'd slept. Within A.E.G.I.S’s database, she was classified as The Witch.

“Alright, boss, what do you need? Also, Calum, I lost the game again. Sorry,” Emelia yawned, rubbing her tired eyes.

“It’s fine, not like it isn’t the thousandth time we’ve lost,” Calum sighed, shaking his head.

Nikolai observed the group, noting their varying degrees of readiness and commitment. “This mission is critical,” he began, “and I need everyone focused. We've faced setbacks, but failure is not an option this time. Our objective is clear, and we must execute it flawlessly.”

The room fell silent, the gravity of Nikolai's words sinking in. Emelia straightened, trying to shake off her drowsiness, while Calum reluctantly pocketed his broken game console. The others, equally aware of the stakes, nodded in agreement. The mission ahead would test their limits, but they knew that united, they stood a better chance of success.

“Boss, I thought you said I didn’t need to participate in any missions. My foresight ability is enough to support you, right?” Emelia asked, settling into her chair, her arms resting wearily on the table.

“Don’t worry, you’re already invaluable. I wouldn’t risk you dying in combat. I simply wanted you here to be part of the meeting and offer any suggestions you might have,” Nikolai reassured her.

“Hey, Nikolai, do I have to join you in going to the stupid Gamma facility? I'd much rather join Hummingbird in attacking the Alpha facility. I really want to see Marky again. I didn’t get to talk with him last time,” Scarlet complained, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Markus will not be present on that day. He’ll be making his monthly trip to Blood Inc. to meet with the five o’clock chair. Our intel states that Blood Inc. has acquired a new member with an authority-type ability,” Nikolai replied.

“So, without Markus, my main worries will be the Saint and the Swan, right?” Hummingbird inquired, their tone calculating.

“Overall, yes. The Planter is meeting with the head of A.E.G.I.S., so he won’t be present either. Most of the other Awakened can be handled by the other forces I assign to you. You simply must deal with those two and then kill Iris,” Nikolai instructed.

Emelia, looking concerned, removed her eye patch, revealing her extraordinary eye. It seemed as if they were staring into the cosmos itself, a beautiful star system contained within it, glowing faintly. After a moment, she placed her eye patch back on, a worried expression crossing her face.

“I used my foresight ability, and I have bad news. To compensate for their two strongest agents being absent that day, the Slayer will be assigned there,” Emelia announced.

“Thank you for checking. That makes things more difficult. In terms of raw power, very few surpass her. A powerful meta-human fused with a dragon, who kills dragons for fun. On top of that, her berserker ability and artifacts make her quite difficult to deal with,” Nikolai admitted, his frustration evident.

“I will go with the masked bastard to assist in the attack on the Alpha facility. Adam can handle Octavian. He is the only major threat in the Beta Facility. Our forces can handle any other Awakened there and can easily kill Maxwell,” Calum volunteered.

“Aw, come on. If he gets to switch, why can’t it be me?” Scarlet whined, clearly irritated.

“The Gamma facility is incredibly dangerous. If the attempts on the key's lives fail, then securing Lovecraft is our highest priority,” Nikolai explained firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

“If I surround him, I can defeat Octavian. He only has his speed, after all. What’s so valuable about this Lovecraft individual that you seem to care more for him than the keys?” Adam asked, his curiosity piqued.

“The keys can be obtained at any time, but that man and his overwhelming power will be sentenced to death very soon. I’d like him to join our council,” Nikolai replied, his tone cold and calculated.

“To confirm where I must bring everyone, Dove and Phoenix will invade the Gamma facility to obtain Lovecraft and other death row inmates who wish to join us. Mockingbird and Hummingbird will attack the Alpha facility to kill Iris. Lastly, Crow will attack the Beta Facility and kill Maxwell,” Lucia recited nervously, her voice wavering slightly.

“Yes, that is correct. But could you drop me off in Italy? I really want pasta,” Emelia requested, her voice casual and tired.

“Please do it. Her leaving the castle is a rarity, we must encourage it,” Nikolai said, his tone taking on a rare note of gentle insistence.

“Y-yes, boss,” Lucia stammered, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she thought about the immense energy the entire mission would require.

“Lastly, I’ve requested that Diamond look into that man, Nihil. I’ll make sure to kill that bastard for getting in the way,” Nikolai said, a fierce anger filling his eyes.

As he said this, the meeting came to a dramatic end. Each of the candles in the room extinguished one by one, casting the chamber into darkness. The members of the council left the room, some preparing for the upcoming mission, while others sought moments of relaxation before the storm ahead.

Meanwhile, as this sinister meeting unfolded in the depths of the castle, Maxwell slept fitfully in his room. Exhausted from his escape attempt, he tossed and turned, his mind plagued by fragmented nightmares of an event he couldn’t fully recall. Shadows of seven others haunted his dreams, a betrayal, his own death, none of their faces or the specifics of that day were clear. The images were fleeting, leaving him with a lingering sense of dread and confusion.

The next morning, Maxwell awoke with a start, drenched in sweat and disoriented. His stomach growled, a reminder of his hunger. Dragging himself out of bed, he made his way to the cafeteria. The room was a dull, uninspired space, with drab walls painted a monotonous beige and flickering fluorescent lights casting an unflattering glare. The linoleum floor was scuffed and stained, evidence of countless students shuffling through day after day. The long tables and uncomfortable plastic chairs only added to the sense of mediocrity.

Maxwell grabbed a tray and joined the queue, the smell of overcooked eggs and bland oatmeal filling his nostrils. He placed a scoop of the mediocre scrambled eggs onto his tray, their rubbery texture and pale color hardly appetizing. Looking around the room, his eyes landed on Cynthia, who was sitting alone at a corner table, picking at her food absentmindedly. Deciding he could use some company, Maxwell walked over and sat down across from her, offering a weary smile.

“Morning,” Maxwell said, his voice still rough from sleep.

Cynthia looked up, her expression softening slightly. “It's a shame your attempt to get in the elevator didn't work, but for some reason after we were brought to Octavian's office, he chose to let us go. It was really weird.”

“That’s good at least, though sadly I no longer have the key card. It got taken away just as I was about to succeed,” Maxwell complained, his frustration evident.

“That’s about what I expected,” Cynthia sighed. “Our classes are starting tomorrow, but would you like to join me and the rest of our classmates for some early training?”

“Sure, I don’t have much appetite for this gross food anyway,” Maxwell said, standing up and pushing his tray away.

Cynthia nodded, and they left the dreary cafeteria behind, making their way to the nearby gymnasium. It was a standard-looking gymnasium, the kind you'd find in a typical school. The walls were lined with aging basketball hoops, and the wooden floor, though polished, showed signs of wear and tear. The air was filled with the faint smell of sweat and rubber. The more advanced combat areas were reserved for older trainees, making this gymnasium feel somewhat mundane in comparison.

As they entered the room, Maxwell spotted Noah, Rook, the twins, and Ashe already waiting. By pure coincidence, all the individuals Maxwell ran into yesterday were members of his class. Noah was doing light stretches, his cane resting against a nearby wall. Rook was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his green-tinted skin contrasting sharply with the dullness of the gym. The twins were engaged in a playful spar, their identical features making it hard to tell who was who. Ashe was leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable.

“Looks like we have quite the group,” Maxwell remarked, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, it’s good to have everyone here,” Cynthia said. “Let’s make the most of this session.”

“I was thinking that we should engage in a bit of sparring between us,” Rook suggested, standing up. “The groups will be as such: the twins will face each other, Ashe and I will fight, and lastly Maxwell and Cynthia will face off. Due to our odd numbers, Noah will join in on the second round, we will continue this tournament sparing until we have one winner”

They each agreed, breaking off into their respective groups. Over in a corner, Sarah and Emily began their fight, their movements almost identical, reflecting their close bond as twins.

The two girls squared off, their eyes locked in intense concentration. In unison, their arms transformed into sharp, green mantis scythes, glinting under the gymnasium lights. Sarah was the first to move, lunging forward with a swift, horizontal slash aimed at Emily’s midsection. Emily parried effortlessly, their scythes clashing with a metallic ring.

Emily retaliated with a series of rapid strikes, each one aimed to test Sarah’s defenses. Sarah blocked and dodged with equal speed, the two moving in a deadly dance of mirrored precision. They seemed to anticipate each other’s moves, their attacks, and counters flowing seamlessly. The scythes sliced through the air with a hiss, leaving faint green trails behind.

Their fight grew more intense as they pushed each other to the limits. Sarah feinted left, then pivoted right, her scythe slicing downward in a powerful arc. Emily barely managed to sidestep, her own scythe whipping up to deflect the blow. The impact sent a shockwave through their arms, but neither flinched. They continued their duel, the sound of their scythes clanging filling the gym.

Despite their identical abilities, subtle differences in their fighting styles began to emerge. Sarah favored aggressive, sweeping strikes, aiming to overpower her sister with sheer force. Emily, on the other hand, employed a more tactical approach, using precise, controlled movements to exploit any openings in Sarah’s defense.

As the fight progressed, their breathing grew heavier, but their determination never wavered. Emily saw an opening and took it, lunging forward with both scythes aimed at Sarah's torso. Sarah crossed her scythes to block, but the force of Emily’s attack pushed her back a few steps.

“You’re getting better,” Sarah admitted, a small smile playing on her lips despite the intensity of the fight.

“So are you,” Emily replied, her eyes gleaming with respect and competitiveness.

With renewed vigor, they launched into a final flurry of attacks, each sister giving their all. The gymnasium echoed with the sound of their scythes clashing, a symphony of sharp, metallic notes. Just as it seemed the match would end in a stalemate, Emily executed a swift, cunning maneuver. She feinted high, then swept low, her scythe slicing towards Sarah's legs with lightning speed. The unexpected move caught Sarah off guard, and she stumbled, losing her balance and falling to the ground.

Emily was quick to capitalize on her advantage, her blade pressing lightly against Sarah’s neck before she could recover. The edge of the scythe gleamed menacingly, a testament to Emily's victory. Sarah looked up at her sister, a mixture of frustration and pride in her eyes.

Emily extended a hand to help Sarah up, a triumphant yet respectful smile on her face. Sarah took it, pulling herself to her feet with a nod of acknowledgment.

“Nice move,” Sarah said, brushing off the dust.

“Thanks. You almost had me,” Emily replied, her smile widening.

While the twins clashed, Rook and Ashe squared off, readying themselves for their own bout. Rook's tentacles unfurled from his arms, writhing and twitching with a life of their own, while Ashe’s eyes glinted with a steely determination, the surrounding air subtly tinged with the scent of iron from his blood manipulation.

Rook made the first move, his tentacles darting forward like snakes, aiming to ensnare Ashe. Ashe responded with a swift motion of his hand, and tendrils of his own blood shot out, hardening midair to parry the incoming tentacles. The two forces collided, creating a spectacle of organic and blood-crafted appendages clashing in a fierce dance.

Ashe shifted his stance, summoning more blood from a concealed wound on his arm. He shaped the blood into sharp, spear-like projections, launching them at Rook with deadly precision. Rook deflected most of them with his tentacles, but one managed to graze his shoulder, drawing a thin line of crimson.

Rook gritted his teeth, using the pain to fuel his determination. He retaliated by splitting his tentacles into multiple smaller ones, overwhelming Ashe’s defenses with sheer numbers. Ashe struggled to keep up, his blood constructs barely managing to block the relentless assault.

Seeing an opening, Rook seized the opportunity and ensnared Ashe's legs with his tentacles, pulling him off balance. Ashe crashed to the ground, but quickly rolled to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he summoned a wave of blood to push Rook back. The force of the wave sent Rook staggering, but he quickly regained his footing, launching himself at Ashe with renewed ferocity.

As the fight reached its climax, Rook's tentacles wrapped tightly around Ashe's body, lifting him off the ground. Victory seemed imminent for Rook as he prepared to deliver the final blow. However, a sudden change came over Ashe. His eyes glowed a bright, unnatural blue, and in an instant, Rook found himself unable to move.

At that moment, blood escaped from Ashe's body and spun around him like a crimson whirlwind. The blood slashed and destroyed the tentacles, severing them with razor-sharp precision. Ashe's eyes returned to their normal color as he landed gracefully on the ground, his stance firm and controlled. Rook fell to the floor, his arms regenerating back to normal, only to find a sword of blood held firmly at his neck.

“You almost had me there,” Ashe said, a hint of admiration in his voice. “I needed to use my secret weapon.”

He laughed, the tension of the fight dissipating in an instant. Rook, breathing heavily, looked up at Ashe, a mix of frustration and respect in his eyes.

“Well, that was something,” Rook admitted, a reluctant smile forming on his lips. “Guess I underestimated you.”

Ashe extended a hand to help Rook up. “We both fought well.”

Rook took Ashe's hand, and the two stood up, ready to see who would emerge victorious in the final round.

Finally, it was time for the battle between Cynthia and Maxwell. The atmosphere in the gymnasium grew tense as the two opponents faced each other, their eyes locked in mutual determination.

Maxwell's angel wings unfurled, each feather sharp as a blade, glinting menacingly under the gymnasium lights. His hypercognition kicked in, analyzing every possible move Cynthia could make. Cynthia, on the other hand, stood poised and ready, her fingers twitching as webs of thin, yet strong, threads extended from her hands, forming intricate patterns around her.

Without warning, Cynthia launched her first attack, sending a flurry of webs toward Maxwell. He reacted instantly, his wings flapping with incredible speed, slicing through the webs before they could entangle him. Cynthia continued her assault, weaving more threads in a desperate attempt to catch Maxwell, but he dodged and countered with swift, precise movements.

Maxwell retaliated by launching a volley of razor-sharp feathers in Cynthia's direction. She deftly dodged most of them, using her webs to deflect the rest. The two combatants moved fluidly, almost like dancers, each trying to outmaneuver the other. Cynthia managed to entangle Maxwell's arm for a brief moment, but he quickly severed the web with a powerful flap of his wings.

The fight continued, both of them pushing their limits. Cynthia attempted to trap Maxwell in a web cocoon, but he saw through her strategy, using his hypercognition to predict her movements. With a swift maneuver, he closed the distance between them, his wings slashing through the webs like butter. Cynthia found herself on the defensive, struggling to keep up with Maxwell's relentless attacks.

In a final, desperate move, Cynthia created a massive web net and hurled it at Maxwell. He responded by taking to the air, rising high above the gymnasium floor. As the web reached its apex, Maxwell dove with blinding speed, his wings cutting through the net and closing the distance to Cynthia in an instant.

Before she could react, Maxwell landed behind her, his wings wrapping around her in a tight, but non-lethal, embrace. He gently but firmly pressed a sharp feather against her neck, signaling his victory.

Cynthia sighed in defeat, a small smile playing on her lips. “You got me, Maxwell. What a one-sided fight.”

As the sparring rounds concluded, a man walked into the gymnasium, clapping slowly. He had curly blonde hair and yellow eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Dressed in a sleek black suit with red gloves on each hand, he carried a coffin on his back.

“Oh good, I was looking for my students to talk with each of them before the fun tomorrow, and it looks like you've all gathered together. I am Ivan Osborne, but you can just call me Mr. Osborne,” Ivan said, setting his coffin down and using it as a chair.

Maxwell's senses tingled, picking up the unmistakable aura of danger emanating from Ivan and the mysterious coffin he lugged around.

“Please continue your fights; I'll say what I need to afterward,” Ivan said, his tone dismissive yet authoritative.

The students exchanged uneasy glances before resuming their training. Ashe and Maxwell squared off, while Noah and Emily prepared to face each other.


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