December 12, 2023. 7:00 AM

It wasn’t the sun that rises the first thing in the morning. It’s R who visited Ley in his room, observing as the frail body of a brown teenager slept. And despite the mask he wore to cover his face, his eyes—filled with immense concern and immeasurable compassion—were just too obvious.

Attara, after stepping into the room with Proxima and Tract, immediately voiced her worry. “Will he be alright?”

“Post-awakening triggers process their reabsorbed mist for how long it takes, so he will be fine, perfect, and even better, especially after his powers manifest," R answered, assuring the concerned Attara.

“That is correct,” Proxima confirmed, her voice filled with confidence and certainty.

R turned to Proxima, seeking confirmation. “I take it you’re done with your task?” 

“Yes, sire,” she respectfully answered.

“We’re originally friends, you know?” R reminded her. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Yes, but you’re the head of the organization, and we exist in a hierarchy, so shut up,” she replied arrogantly and irritatedly.

“Still a bureaucratic snob, huh…” R turned his front back to the glass and whispered, hoping his snide comment wasn’t heard.

“You’re lucky you’re the boss,” Proxima responded, having heard the insult. “Or I would have smacked the shit out of you.”

R grinned and disregarded Proxima’s threat and gazed at Tract, hoping the order he gave to him was done. “The agents are called, correct?”

“You guessed it, boss. They’re in the conference room, waiting for you,” Tract confidently confirms.

Accompanied by his three trusted companions, R trailed the organization’s hallways—black, advanced, smooth, and refined—arriving at the conference room.

The floor reflected every detail of the world with its glistening, refined black tiles. Its pillars upheld the dignity and authority that the organization had in its smooth black walls. And the lights hanging from the high ceiling signified the bright future the organization gave.

But only one person held the authority and power built into the room that can command hundreds of agents at once, and that was the current head of the organization, R.

As the authority of the four’s footsteps echoed upon their arrival at the conference room, five low-ranking agents stood in the center of the room; their nervous and anxious posture was well-reflected in the floor.

Frozen gazes, uncomfortable postures, and unmoving expressions. Their unappealing proper presentation of themselves was clear to the eyes of the highest-ranking agents that stood in front of them.

Their behaviors were to be expected. After all, low-ranking agents could never dream of meeting the superiors of their superiors.

“Ease up, everyone,” R voiced, trying to loosen the agents’ obviously tense and uncomfortable postures. But even with his encouragement as the head, they simply couldn’t follow through out of Proxima’s presence. You’ve certainly drilled the hierarchy into them, Proxima.

The five agents locked their eyes onto R’s three trusted agents, who stood beside him. Proxima, Tract, and Attara were collectively named the Cerberus, the three-headed monster. 

They were the second-highest agents, each of whom bore a title that highlighted their specialties and the department that they governed.

The First Head, Proxima. Head of Supreme Intelligence. The overseer of all information and knowledge and responsible for the technological advancement and innovation of the organization.

The Second Head, Tract. Head of Absolute Combat. The commander of training specializes in the creation of offensive and defensive counters against triggers.

The Third Head, Attara. Head of Civil Affairs. The director masks the very existence of the organization, specializing in non-agent and agent interaction.

Their eyes remained locked onto the three, attempting to confirm the circulating rumors going around the organization. And as they ended their quick observation, they were able to observe as much as they could.

Proxima is a middle-aged, black-haired, white woman with an average height along with a sexy, athletic figure.

Tract is a middle-aged, black-haired, tall white man whose buff figure cannot be contained by the organization’s uniform.

And Attara is a middle-aged, black-haired, brown woman with a short and petite figure.

After seeing them upfront, it finally made sense why no other agents could ever spread a rumor about what the Cerberus and R looked like. Because every encounter that any agents had with them, they always had their faces covered with their masks.

No other agent had ever seen R’s bare face except the Cerberus, and they’re not the type to spread rumors about their boss’ appearance.

They then turned their attention to R, focusing on every detail of his character, as they were the only low-ranking agents who had ever interacted with him.

A middle-aged, black-haired, white man with a tall and athletic build.

Noticing the change in the five agents’ behavior, R immediately began to present the purpose of their summons.

PROJECT BLACK CALAMITY 

The black screen behind R changed into a white screen with the mission’s name presented on it, even temporarily blinding the five agents with its sudden flicker.

“Project Black Calamity is the name of your new mission,” R declared. “This mission includes the simulation of a foster home that houses a trigger, creating an enriched family environment.”

In an instant, a squeak echoed throughout the entire conference room, capturing everybody’s attention. The person who made the sound was the awkward young female agent standing in the very middle of the five.

“Questions?” R said to the young female agent as he waited for a response.

R memorized the numbers and the names given to the agents standing right in front of him, beginning from his left to right.

Agent C-208515 or Agent Theodore. A forty-one-year-old male engineer professor. 

Agent C-919121 or Agent Isla. A thirty-nine-year-old female child and young worker.

Agent C-918919 or Agent Iris. A nineteen-year-old female research specialist.

Agent C-112524 or Agent Alex. An eighteen-year-old male cafe barista.

Agent C-6512924 or Agent Felix. A sixteen-year-old male student.

Agent Iris, the young female agent, turned to her sides, figuring out which person the head was talking to, whether it was the old-looking agents on her right or the young-looking ones on her left.

She looked at them repeatedly and waited for them to speak up. Their silence allowed her to look back to the head and finally realize that she was the one he was directing the question to.

“Oh… Me–me–me?” she stuttered.

“Yes, you. Agent Iris,” R confirmed.

“I—I s—see,” Iris responded as her anxiety worsened.

But before she became unpresentable, realizing her anxious behavior, she closed her eyes, caught her breath, and regulated her racing heart. It was the method she uses to calm herself whenever she becomes nervous around superiors.

In the minute of silence that followed, her vision was engulfed in darkness, and so the world around her waited. The agents that stood near her wanted to intervene, seeing the inexcusable behavior in front of the high-ranking agents. 

But upon their observation of the four high-ranking agents standing in front of them, standing unbothered by her behavior, they remained frozen in their positions.

“Done?” R gently asked, seeing Iris finally open her eyes.

“Uhm. Yes,” Iris answered confidently. “I deeply apologize for the behavior I presented earlier; I assure you that it won’t happen again.”

“It’s alright. Your fellow agents needed the silence,” R assured her. "So, do you have a question?”

“I do, sir, but I would like to apologize in advance in case my question of doubt offends you," Iris answered. “My question lies in the reason the organization has for allowing a trigger to exist and even housing it.”

“This trigger will be a first of its kind, a first to have multiple powers,” R abruptly revealed.

The five agents’ fear and respect for the high-ranking agents that stood in front of them couldn’t restrict them from expressing a surprised look.

“Control yourselves,” Proxima said irritatingly.

Proxima’s calm and irritated declaration whipped the agents’ shocked expressions back to their uncomfortable postures. As she composed herself, she turned to the five as she interjected herself with a question. “Do any of you remember the term shattering?”

“I do,” Iris responded, raising her hand in the process. “Triggers have an extra organ inside their hearts called the orb, which has two layers: the processor and the container. The organ converts trauma and negative emotions into black mist and contains it. When the orb is overfilled, it breaks, causing the trigger to awaken—causing the mist to leak outside of their body. After the absorption of the leaked mist, the body acts as the pseudo-container for the mist in replacement for the orb. The conversion remains, so even though the body can store ten times what the orb can, it still explodes from repeated overfilling. The explosion releases an outburst of black mist, resulting in massive deaths for everyone within five hundred meters. This explosion is called the shattering.”

“Excellent,” Proxima praised her, allowing Iris to feel a sense of pride as she received a compliment from the one person she truly worshipped, allowing her to relax her posture, even for just a little bit.

“The organization has uncovered only a fraction of data about the first trigger to possess multiple powers,” Proxima claimed. “That said, we have determined that the individual has a power that leads into multiple powers: a powerful passive power called Enhanced Physiology.”

“And upon experimentation, the organization has uncovered that this power gave the trigger near-invincibility and instantaneous regeneration," Proxima added. “His near-invincibility also has a passive effect that revealed his perfect resistance to mist absorption, rendering the current version of the Mist Siphoner Glove useless.”

“So, what does that mean?” Agent Alex casually blurted, causing the four agents standing beside him to give him a side glance of disbelief.

Tract knew that Proxima would be too annoyed to answer the young agent’s question, so he took it upon himself to answer. 

“The organization usually eliminates triggers before they have accumulated enough mist to shatter, but with the powers interfering with our job, we might be looking at a shattering event capable of killing the entire planet,” Tract said casually.

“Uhm. So. Why does such a project exist?” The other young male agent—Agent Felix—asked promptly, stealing Agent Iris’ chance to ask the same question.

“The project entails the simulation of a foster family around the trigger, which should prevent him from accumulating enough mist that can kill the entire human race,” R answered. “As of now, the trigger is in the process of manifesting its power, which traditionally occurs for one to three days for powerful triggers. However, due to the trigger’s uniqueness, the organization expects this trigger’s process to take two years.”

“Two years? Shouldn’t that be enough time for the organization to eliminate the trigger instead of the project?” Agent Alex casually expressed his confusion.

“Not necessarily," Agent Iris interjects, answering with full confidence. “When a trigger dies during their process of manifestation, a second form of shattering called ‘forced shattering’ occurs; this is when the body of the trigger dies and can no longer contain the mist, causing it to be released. But the current situation is rare, as documented cases reveal that the mist must be absorbed first before the elimination of the trigger, though the trigger’s powers interfere with two of those things: the absorption and the elimination.

“Impressive,” Proxima compliments her. “But don’t ever interrupt like that again.”

“Must be nice getting praised by the head of intelligence,” R blurted. “That said, you are correct. However, the two-year process is only an estimation; it may be done earlier than that.”

“And each of you must be wondering why you were called upon and chosen for this important project,” Tract announced abruptly, quickly capturing everyone’s attention. “Each of you possesses a common trait—and that is your effective interaction and communication with normal society on a daily basis.”

As the five agents notice the sudden flicker of the screen in front of them, they notice the change of presented text.

From what looked like the name of the project to now the picture of their faces and their information presented alongside it. To be continued onto the next part...