Clover grabbed my shoulder, tugging gently. I lifted my face closer to hers, squinting at the cone of space she was so hyperfixated on.

“He has a keycard, Aurum. That could be important.”

I crouched down, inspecting the limp body of the guard. I turned his hand over and slowly but surely unclasped his hand, prying each finger off one by one. 

The keycard was sleek and streamlined, with white lines in erratic, zigzag patterns running down a cool yellow background. A small code was printed on the front, and the officer’s name and photo in the left corner. 

“Score. Good find, kid. Let’s see where this goes.”

I studied the card, flipping it between my gloves, feeling the cool plastic slide onto my exposed fingers. 

“I don’t think this is unique to the guards. It looks like they were hired on as additional security for the gala. The weapons are probably smuggled in, but the ID looks legit. Someone must’ve pulled some strings.”

Clover’s shoulders slumped, her face falling. 

“Then we’re back where we started. We don’t even have the slightest idea where they would be camped out. They have access to the whole building! We’d have to search the whole place!”

I wagged my finger, clicking my teeth.

“Not so fast. Let’s check the map. They’ve probably fanned out across the entire building. They would position themselves in large locations to set up camps. We find big rooms, they’ll be in there, ready for us to take ‘em out. We should check for the biggest one closest to us.

Clover squinted, her large eyes growing smaller as she looked at me from their very corners.

“Your solution is to just bust down doors and fight whoever is closest to us?”

“Yup.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not a very good detective.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. There’s a map by the reception desk. Let’s check it out.”

I snagged a piece of flimsy map paper from the kiosk and was greeted with an explosion of words, multicolored lines, and densely packed squares that represented the aquarium’s rooms.

“I can hardly read this. This is like one of those Japanese subway maps.”

Clover bounded up next to me and snapped the paper from my grip.

“Let me try.”

She placed her hand to her chin, stroking gently. Her fingers traced slowly over the lines on the paper, causing it to ruffle softly. 

“The largest room closest to us is the Tidal Pool exhibit. It’s where all the touch tank stuff is. Are you sure this will work?”

I nodded, gesturing to the laid-out guards.

“Positive. Now let’s get out of here before these guys come to.”

I pushed into a light jog, Clover close behind me. The good thing about fighting in here was I didn’t have to worry about sound for stealth takedowns. The aquarium had spent big money into making sure every room was covered with plush, stain-hiding black carpet, speckled with orange and white spots, like little grains of sand. 

“Alright, here’s the door.”

I pushed my ear against the door’s glass section, gripping the handle with one hand and palming the door’s surface with the other. 

“It’s locked, but I think I can kick this one down. But when I do, there could be those soldier guys on us at any minute. Get ready to hide.”

Clover inched closer to me, nodding vigorously.

“3.”

I placed my foot on the door’s handle.

“2.”

I cocked my foot back.

“1!”

With a sharp bang and the thump of my shoe on steel, the door burst open.

Within a second, two snipers were trained on me, two red dots flickering ominously on my forehead.

Clover’s skin burst with white-hot energy.

“To the left!”

I did as I was told. I dove to the left as far as I possibly could, blowing every ounce of energy in my hamstrings into lunging to the box of storage supplies in my immediate vicinity.

“We lost him!”

Miraculously, I was out of the snipers’ field of vision. I was saved. 

As the soldiers glanced around, bewildered, I motioned for Clover to come to my side. 

“How did you know that box was outside their field of vision? It looked like they could see that box perfectly clearly from here. How do you know ANY of this?”

Clover fiddled with the bottom of her sweatshirt, twisting it into knots.

“I-I don’t know. I’ve been able to do this my entire life. I can’t control it. I’ve never been able to. When my body senses danger… It just explodes. I see something… A fuzzy picture I can barely make out. Then a couple seconds, maybe a couple minutes later… That picture I see in my head? It happens. 

My mouth went dry. What was I supposed to say? This clairvoyant child had saved my life multiple times over, and every time she did it, she defied the fundamental laws of the universe. Nobody could react that fast. Nobody could see the things she saw coming. 

But I didn’t think she was lying. How could a kid her age understand powers so… corporeal? So… supernatural. I don’t even think I could. 

I shook my head, hair flopping wildly back and forth as I slapped my cheeks. Focus. Focus. 

I scanned the room. 

The touch tank exhibit had 4 large, open-top tanks, placed in a simple grid formation. I saw skates, urchins, anemones, and sea stars, all milling around mindlessly in the shallow water.  Each was filled with sand at the bottom and supported by a wooden table at a low height so kids could reach in and stroke them. 

Boxes of haphazardly piled armor, guns, and numerous other examples of contraband littered the floor around the main tanks-the perfect cover, the one I was using at this very moment. The room was very clearly under maintenance, making this the perfect hideout. I glanced upward.

Rafters. The roof was extremely high, and wooden beams 

“We need to get up there. It’s the perfect vantage point. Only how?”

I looked right. A pile of easy-scaleable boxes brought me easily to the lowest rung of beams, I noticed. I traced the wooden beam across the room, and at the very end sat a tightly wound, string rope. 

“I can climb those boxes and get that rope to pull you up. Clover, can you climb it if I drop it down?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. 

“I think so.”

“Then let’s roll.”

I scampered up the boxes, my toes just barely getting leverage on the edge of the cardboard. With a shallow, quiet grunt, I clasped the wooden beam and hauled myself up. I untangled the rope, and slowly but surely, Clover pulled herself up onto the beam.

I patted her on the back softly as she sat, huffing at the effort.

“Nice one.”

She flashed me a shaky smile and a weak thumbs up before pointing to the front of the room. 

We had some new guests. And they looked important. 

A tall, lean man stood, arms behind his back, in the center of the room. His mouth was stitched shut, literally. A clean, straight line of stitches ran from across his lips to both of his ears. The injury must’ve been pretty bad, as they looked extremely old and brown, yet at the same time starkly visible. 

Long, smooth,  raven hair cascaded down his torso, its length ceasing just where his chest ended and his legs started.

His eyes were sunken and baggy. Dude definitely didn’t get his eight hours of sleep. He looked absolutely exhausted. He wore a tactical vest and the same gear as all the others, bar the helmet, and on his chest, a huge, crustacean claw was emblazoned onto a light teal badge. Despite his lean build, he looked astoundingly muscular, his abs, pecs, and biceps visible through the tight military clothing. 

By his side stood a woman, hand clasped on his shoulder. He didn’t even seem to notice. She had bright orange hair, still natural, but as ginger as you could get, wrapped neatly into a French braid that ran down her back. While she wore the same vest and pants everyone else had on, she had a massive utility belt and bandolier strapped to her torso, filled to complete capacity with a ridiculous amount of different explosives. Her eyes were completely concealed with a black glass visor that glowed the same color as her hair at the very edges. On her chest sat a matching teal badge, although this one had a seashell on it. While the man’s eyes carefully surveyed the room, darting back and forth, her face stayed completely motionless. She was completely and utterly blind. 

The man began to speak in a harsh, grating Russian accent, like his vocal cords were fighting to get the raspy words out. 

“Have the soldiers been spread out across the facility?”

The woman’s ears perked up. Her voice, on the other hand, came out silky smooth, each word accented with an Irish lilt. 

“Yes, sir. We have a list of the gala members. All soldiers are instructed to report back to you when a guest is successfully eliminated.”

I glanced over at Clover. 

“Eliminated? I was right! They ARE taking out targets!”

Clover hurriedly slapped a hand over my mouth, muffling my cry.

“Shut up! She hears you!”

The woman’s head shot to the ceiling, her ears wide open.

Horrified, I locked all my joints in place, sighing as she slowly peeled her head away from the rafters. 

“Nautilus?”

“Nothing, sir. Master Chrono will be pleased.”

I had a name. The head honcho. Chrono. And I was going to meet him in person soon enough.