Though the city of Puerta Blanca was wild and riddled with crime, it was not without a police force and other official legislation. The MIB also had its own office, hidden in plain view between every other plain, gray, concrete building. One of its office doors swung wide open, yet it did nothing to wake the investigator snoring on his desk between towering piles of papers. It was Adam Sear, a young assistant with slick hair, round bottle-bottom glasses, and an eager face. Though, at that point, I was slightly disappointed. He marched over to his senior, rolling the newspaper into a bat.

"Good morning, boss!" He hit Cole on the back of his head.

Cole fumbled in his chair, swinging his arms around and knocking over all the papers.

"Ah, what in the seven circles?" He cursed.

"Had a rough night?"

"Adam? What was that for?" Cole rubbed his head.

"I can't have chief busting you for sleeping on the job."

"Sorry, sorry."

"Drinking on Tuesday. What has gone to you?"

"I invited someone for a drink."

"Oh, you got a girlfriend?" Adam smiled smugly.

"Stop joking around. He was not a friend."

"Drinking with strangers?"

"No, it was just that he happened to be an ex-soldier from ADF."

"Oh, your new best friend?"

"He had some other opinions on this type of work."

"Ex-military is like that. Either bitter, depressed, or anti-government."

"We better get on with the case." Cole coughed.

"About that. They want us to investigate a warehouse on the edge of town." Adam handed the file to the table.

"Alright. Let's get going." Cole picked up his hat.

The warehouse creaked and echoed emptily as if it had been abandoned long ago. The site was closed with police tape, though the officers were sent off as MIB picked up the case.

"Tell me, Adam," Cole said. "What is the first thing you see?"

Adam circled their surroundings, but everything seemed normal.

"The building?" He guessed.

"No. There were many people here, mages."

"How would I know? Can't you remember I don't have your nose?" Adam tapped his feet.

"First, you could look at all of those footprints left on the dust." Cole pointed to the side.

"Oh. But how do you know they're mages?"

"Well, that one is on me." Cole scratched his head. "Mana particles."

"So, you think something happened?"

"A gathering, perhaps. Let's move in."

The two put on plastic gloves and stepped inside the dark room. Their steps echoed far and wide, which made some birds fly to the windows. Though they created an uproar, it did nothing to lift a general feeling of unease while walking inside.

"You see anything?" Adam asked.

"That door." Cole pointed at a doorframe on the other side of the room.

"Wow, something blew it off." Adam looked at how it was bent out of shape.

"With magic."

"Yeesh."

Cole pointed his finger along where the queue was. "All of the people gathered here walked inside in a line."

He stopped at the frame with a grim expression.

"What?"

"Blood." Cole stared inside. "What the hell happened here?"

"It's anyone's guess."

"Nothing makes sense. I could only recognize one scent, but something is off."

"An execution to make an example? Mobs sure like making them as gruesome as possible." Adam shrugged.

"There are too many smells here. Wait, even them?" Cole rubbed his chin. "How about you, Adam? Did someone die here?"

"Hmmm, let me check." Adam took off his glasses and looked around. "Nope, not a soul."

Cole looked at the blood-red floor. "Could it have been torture?"

"Something went down, that's for sure," Adam said, putting the glasses back on.

"You can say no if this makes you uncomfortable."

"I don't mind as long as I got these." Adam flicked his glasses.

"I read your report. Ten years in therapy. Gave me second thoughts if I would let you in."

"Maybe someday I won't need these glasses. Maybe I can make a spell out of this."

"Hmmm." Cole squinted his face into a doubtful expression.

"Something wrong?"

"You know, don't go wishing too much."

"What do you mean?"

"Magecraft is all about talent and inherited traits. Real mages are bred differently. They're something that my nose or your eyes could never hope to achieve."

"When you put it like that." Adam dropped his head.

"Be thankful of Lapetus for what he bestowed upon us, not what we are missing."

Cole Straightened his fingers, turned his left hand vertically with the thumb facing down, and connected the two hands with the thumbs grasping each other and the fingers pointing left and right. He then pressed the hands against his chest and nodded. The Ellinist prayer symbolized the connection of everything in the world, the two principal planes, heaven and earth, and the blessing humanity received from Lapetus, the god of magic.

"I guess," Adam said.

"Well, that's enough of that. Let's head back and report our findings." Cole walked off.

On the way back to the office was the relatively poor block in the city. It was full of people who had lost everything in the money and excitement. The road was always full of holes and cracks since no worker was willing to go there. Some roads were full of tents, where people lived in large holes, especially the ones with exposed heating pipes. During the day they would scavenge and scatter, pleading for money, collecting trash, and stealing. Everyone wise enough would keep their pockets shut and avoid the place entirely.

A line of cars blocked one of the driveways, stopping the two a few blocks before the office.

"What in the bright Eos?" Cole rolled up his window. "What the hell is taking so long?!"

"Some sicko is laying in the middle of the intersection." Another driver yelled back.

"Then move the hobo already!" Cole honked the horn.

"You go move that hairball!"

"Fine then." Cole stepped out.

A frail-looking beastman in rags lay on his back in the middle of the road. Whether he was merely sleeping loudly or moaning in pain was beyond them. Cole checked this by kicking the man quite hard to his stomach.

"Come on, move it!" He yelled.

"Are you alright?" Adam crouched and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't touch him. He's from the Lobo Loco block. You don't know what diseases he might have."

"We can't just leave him be."

Cole sighed. "Since you already touched him, move him to the side."

"Here's some money." Adam slipped a few bills into the poor man's hand.

"Don't give him that!" Cole snapped.

"Thank you." The man grabbed the money.

"The pack holds," Adam whispered.

Cole walked quietly back to the car and slammed the door.

"What's with the frown?" Adam asked.

Cole gave a cold glance. "So, you're one of them."

"Born there, at least until the police showed up. I could barely get out of foster care."

"Well, I guess you couldn't mention that in your submission to the forces."

"It was rough out there, but people cared for each other. At least until Avus showed up. They and their Black ice tore us apart. Mom and dad died because of them."

"That's why we're here, to do God's work. Deliver justice."

"Like they would ever do anything for us."

"Truly, I heard this crazy rumor of a god in Eden's gate."

"Why would it be there?"

"I don't know, there are only these rumors floating in the air." Cole laughed. "But that can't be."

"Why not?"

"Mages don't need god's help. They have all the blessing they need."

Cole looked out of the window and saw a strange man in a mask walk past their car. His nose sniffed the faintest smell of blood coming off him. Before he could get a better look, another car behind them honked its horn like it was a button that gave them money.

"I'm going, I'm going!" Cole pushed the pedal.

The masked man turned his gaze from the car and continued walking. He quickly turned around a corner. It was fast enough to not see someone walk into him.

"Excuse me," The man stopped. "Wait, you're-"

"Ouch, sorry. Wait, it's you," Orel looked up. "William, was it?"

"And you we're...Never mind."

"Are you going to the second phase?" Orel asked.

"Right, yes. Are you not?"

"No, I'm just a manager."

"I see."

"Do you live around here?"

Ocham squinted his eyes under the mask. His brain quickly thought up a fine forgery of an answer.

"I moved here a while ago."

"Oh. Might you know any places to visit? I have some free time."

"Hmmm." Ocham rubbed his chin. "Croc Chocolat is a popular candy shop a few blocks east of here. There are also plenty of casinos on Golden Boulevard, but you might not be interested in them. For restaurants, I would recommend Perk Point near the center. The Cloud spike gives a nice view of the city and surrounding area. There are also plenty of guided tours."

"Thank you. I'll make sure to look them up."

The honesty at display made Ocham feel silly for being on guard.

"I have to keep going before the test starts." He reminded himself.

"Oh, sorry for keeping you here!" Orel realized.

"I will be just in time."

"See you!" Orel waved.

Ocham kept his stiletto safely inside his sleeve. It was not his intention to take Orel out, but he was not naïve enough to underestimate younger opponents. His knife would not stray from any target that he would set.

The Cloud spike, despite its name, could not pierce the skies but came very close. Though only a guarded watch tower during the colonization period, the modern version borrowed its name. No one could miss it, poking out of the ground like a ginormous flagpole with a disc-shaped compartment at the end. Orel had to look so high from the base that his neck hurt.

Throwing a chocolate ball to his mouth, he entered inside. He found two options to ascend in the round room. On the left were a set of elevators, but on the right was a circular stone staircase going up a shaft into nothingness. The staircase was open but came with a warning slate on top reading, "Not for the weak-hearted or those with disabilities. Use at your own risk. Ascend will take around 25 minutes at a normal pace."

After almost fifteen minutes, Orel reached the top, sweating bullets and his breath wheezing like a broken whistle. Thankfully, there was a café selling cold drinks full of ice and sugar. The drink was refreshing, and Orel recovered just in time to notice the grand view from the massive glass panels. The sparkling ocean swallowed the white beach, and the concrete buildings were colorful with all the colors of the rainbow. Beyond the towers and city lights was what Orel was looking for, or it should be. A lush green jungle crept behind the luxury villas and gardens until the edge of the mountains blocked the view. Eden's gate was supposed to be past those mountains, but none of its splendor would slip even accidentally. No one could even guess that past the mountain range was a desert continuing in all directions under a scorching sun, a harsh wasteland that no one could or wished to inhabit, rather avoiding it as much as they could or afford.

"I'm coming, Norman." Orel pressed his hand on the glass.

"Hey, kid." Someone called him out.

A white leather glove took a firm grip on Orel's shoulder. He glanced at the reflection on the glass and saw a pair of menacing men, one large as a beast and another slim like a violin string, yet with enough power to hold Orel in place. Orel found himself surrounded by them, with no way to escape.

"We have some questions for you." The man said with a smooth accent. "Call for help, and I'll cut you up."

Orel felt a string tighten around his neck.

"The man with the mask. Do you know him?" The man asked.

"Who?"

"The one you talked with an hour ago."

"I don't know him. I met him in an audition." Orel shuddered.

"Of what kind?"

Orel gasped for breath. "For bodyguarding."

"For who?"

"Some guy named Oliver Spada."

The strings loosened off, but the man didn't take his arm off. Instead, the burly man leaned over and sniffed Orel's hair.

"Well?" The man asked.

"Yes, I can smell it. His scent is on him."

"Oh? Then we will take this interview outside." The man released his grip. "You walk first, boy."

Orel turned and could finally see his assailants. The lean gentleman wrapped himself in a dark, open trench coat and a frilly purple dress shirt that popped out. A thick red scarf protected the jagged jawline, and the man's mysterious eyes stared from under the large, baggy hat. With him was a man of large build, towering even Ándras in height. His enormous body barely fit inside the black suit, while the rest of the body was tightly wrapped in bandages. Each breath he drew was deep, noxious, and rough. Nothing but his eyes escaped through the wrappings. Their sharp glare was striking, like two shiny dots watching from a dark forest.

Though he was free to move, Orel could feel that there was no way to escape. As he took two steps forward, he knew why. He felt a sharp pain around his neck, like dozens of paper cuts all around it.

"Don't think we are letting you off easy." The man tugged his hand.

"We need him alive, Loupe." The other spoke with a deep yet strangely soothing voice.

"I was just making sure."

As Orel walked past the bar counter, he saw the elevator. It sparked an idea in his head, hot enough to free him from the freezing feeling of dread. He took a few quick steps, pressed the button, and escaped. The two men blinked, looked at each other, and realized.

"After him!" The large man roared.

"No need. He won't get far." La Loupe gripped his hand.

"Don't you dare!"

"This will teach him a lesson." La Loupe tugged the string taut.

He could feel the struggle happening inside, how the string tightened around Orel's neck and how his breaths became shorter and shorter. Even if he would protect himself with Ward, it would still choke him. La Loupe sensed the desperate attempts to fight back with malicious glee. There was nothing more satisfying for him than having someone else's fate at the tips of his fingers. Suddenly his smile all but vanished.

"What happened?" The other noticed.

"The line snapped." La Loupe pulled the string.

"He's going to get away!" The man ran to the other elevator.

"Hmph, fine by me." La Loupe sat on a bar stool. "The boy is all yours. I got what I wanted." He turned to the bartender. "Coffee black."

"You're just going to let him go?"

"You were going after him, weren't you? I can't track the kid as you do. Just call me if you need me."

Down at the base, the elevator opened. Orel stepped outside with his hands bleeding. His hands were full of cuts, but also something else. In the middle of his palm was a small, slim yet deep hole, and on his other hand, a single, bloody coin.

"I need to get out of here," He said running back to the city.