The moment I regained my consciousness, the first two words that popped into my head were “cardboard boxes”. Precisely because I’ve awakened in a dark, dusty room with nothing but unkempt cardboard boxes at every corner, or is it my wavering visions creating illusions now? 

On top of a stack, a shadow of a person looming overhead. Fighting through nausea and headache, my eyes squint to see a better look of the individual responsible for my captivity.

“Hey, Princess. Enjoying the view?”

Dear Progenitors, please perish that nickname from my life. It's dark, and so does the outside world. Seemingly hours have passed since the start of Twilight Hour. From here, the walls are filtering the sound. Though muffled, none can dismiss the sound of cheers exploding, celebrating the event of the night. The multi-color illumination from the neighboring museum lit up the room, giving me a better view of the owner of this rugged voice. As expected, his face is as rugged as his speaking pattern, complete with those freshly shaved marks. The shadows beneath his eyes are like a reminder that he hasn't seen the light for a long time. 

His hair, I think, doesn't change much. He had done a perfect job in disguising himself as a young man. I try to remain awake despite my spinning head. "The owner is not the owner after all."

"Ha! Serves you right for trying to mess with us!" He comes down with a loud knock of his boots clashing loudly against the wooden floor. "Now that you've found our tiny hiding, we've got no choice but to turn it into your little prison for now." 

His over rambunctious tone simply worsens my headache. "Are you guys Rapture?"

"Well, duh! Who else can do this kind of stuff!? Directors, Basileus, a whole nation even! No force powerful enough can stop our advances!" 

There's a larger man behind him with a messy bob haircut. Way more composed and subdued, he sighs over the excessive display of his subordinates. "Junior, don't get carried away. The mission isn't over yet."

Of course, cocky 'Junior' argues back, not liking that piece of advice. "We don't lose, man. One of the Messengers is coming with us so it's a guaranteed victory! Have a bit of confidence, will you?" 

"It's a newbie mistake to assume everything will proceed smoothly." Interesting, so this Junior is a fresh pick. If anything, he truly failed his first day of job. 

The other man sighs in utter defeat. "Whatever, let's get going. We'll be damned if one of those Messengers doesn't see us in our post." 

"Now!?" Junior seems flabbergasted, his eyes immediately glued against me. The gap between us closes and I flinch a little when both his hands clutch against my shoulders. "Spare us some time, can they!? What sort of idiot misses the chance to see a pretty girl this close!?" 

My already sinking nausea begins to stir, and I fight the urge to puke all over his face.

"You're an even more idiot for saying that." In between their conversation, Junior screams out a roaring 'the hell is that supposed to mean!?', only to receive a proper reprimand from the other man. 

"He strictly told us to capture her alive. You will heed his words, otherwise I'll be forced to dump you to the coast of Pomona. Since you're new, you haven't known a damn thing about his character when anyone doesn't do as told." 

Dismissing Junior's whimpering defeat, my mind struggles to understand the weight of the other's words that forcibly awakens me in the middle of recovery. 

"Tch, party pooper. Meh, whatever. We'll get our fun eventually." When Junior turns to me, whatever discouragement left from him disappears as if it never existed in the first place, replaced with a wide grin that paints across his face. "Guess we'll see you around after this, Princess! Until then, au revoir!"