The dry wasteland remained quiet as wind pushed tumble weeds across the desolate rocks.
A warm ray of sunlight shone through the arching window behind him, warming his shoulders.
Arthur sighed, placing his pen down.
This time…
He glanced at the clock on his desk, pressing a button on the underside of his desk.
A panel lifted up with a pin key notched in the center.
Arthur slotted a key, turning it clockwise.
The desk—
Shifted.
As a set of green letters hovered over the wooden surface.
A button was pressed on a small communication device making a screen appear above it.
Arthur's fingers glided over the letters forming a message.
Steam lifted from the surface of his black coffee as he pressed the enter key, sending the message to each insurgent member.
His chair—
Creaked.
As he leaned back.
…I'll keep my word.
He stabilized himself breathing in and out of his nose.
Arthur sat forward, turning the knob on his lampstand to cut off the light.
He gathered a pile of documents from the corner of his desk, placing them underneath his left arm.
The coffee mug was lifted by the same side hand as he walked around the desk.
Arthur stood before his door as the two halves slid open, closing behind him as he stepped out into the hallway.
His footsteps tapped across the limestone floor.
He was—
Silent.
Focusing his attention forward.
Fluorescent lights buzzed above him as the morning sunlight shone from the entrance to the courtyard.
The fountain flowed steadily, having four streams of clear water moving from the center spout.
Arthur walked past the left side.
His coffee—
Rippled.
The fountain—
Stuttered.
Flowing out of rhythm.
Arthur turned towards the fountain, watching the sunlight warp around the base.
A figure—
Sat.
On the opposite side from him.
Arthur's eyes tightened, trying to make out what it truly was.
His vision became somewhat clear, still having a blur near the fountain.
The air—
Shifted.
Kane sat—
Alone.
Looking at the surface of the water.
Arthur's face relaxed while his posture straightened tight.
His Lips—
Parted.
Yet no words exited.
Arthur's hand—
Lifted.
Stopping before it could pass his waist.
It's no–...
He couldn't reach as if his hand was too heavy.
The gap—
Widened.
Too far for any further connection.
…too late.
Arthur's fist clenched as he turned towards the briefing room.
His jaw tightened as he took his first step.
The second—
Late.
Like he paused his stride.
His gaze—
Stayed.
Never turning back to him.
Arthur continued forward moving into the hallway leading to the briefing room.
Kane's reflection—
Darkened.
As if it had no shape.
The chains—
Aligned.
With his being.
The crack—
Fluctuated.
Kane was—
Gone.
As if he was never there.
The fountain's water returned to its natural rhythm, flowing steadily again.
Sunlight straightened around the base as the air returned to a natural feeling.
…
Arthur paused before the briefing door, slowly reaching for the hand scanner.
The door—
Opened.
To a half full table.
He stepped in watching all insurgents rise to their feet, paying their respects as he walked to his seat.
Arthur rolled his chair back, sitting himself and the documents down on the table surface.
His eyes paused briefly on his mug.
"Sit."
Art, Grimm, and Jean took their seats, turning their attention towards him.
Arthur softly exhaled, pressing a button on the arm rest of his chair.
"Cygnus is moving…into the final confrontation."
Green screens appeared above the small projector embedded in the center of the table.
Jean flipped open a notepad.
"Meaning?"
Arthur's gaze—
Focused.
Straight ahead.
He was looking past the insurgents as his hands folded together.
"The Maker…will fall."
The screens—
Flickered.
As a vibration came from the projector.
A pen—
Scratched.
Filling the silent office.
Grimm straightened his slouched posture, looking towards the center screen.
"The maker's in central right…What's the west doing on the screen?"
Arthur reached for his coffee mug.
"Dean was sent to scavenge for parts and found watchmen activity."
Grimm's expression—
Darkened.
His jaw—
Tightened.
"Let me go there…I'm the strongest of the ones left."
Arthur's fingers wrapped around the handle.
"You are needed for the plan to work."
Grimm's eyebrows furrowed.
"But—"
Arthur's word cut through.
"Quiet."
Grimm's chin lowered like gravity took hold.
His tongue—
Clicked.
"Whatever."
Art sighed.
"Sir, please explain the mission for all of us."
Arthur nodded, placing his mug down.
"On the left screen is a diagram of a device Tremor created at my orders."
Jean read the screen.
"What does it mean by suppression device?"
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Those small boxes create a dome similar to the eastern lab."
Jeans pen scribbled across the paper.
"Which in turn will destabilize the people making them collapse?"
Arthur watched the pen move.
"Correct so no harm will be done to them…And you will be the one to place them atop and around the central walls."
Jean kept her eyes on the paper.
"Noted."
Grimm leaned back in his chair.
"When do I come in?"
Art's eyes narrowed.
"He was getting there."
Arthur hummed with quiet amusement as he pressed a button changing the left screen.
A new schematic—
Appeared.
Rotating in a circular motion.
Grimm rested his hands behind his head as a slight yawn exited from his lips.
Jean observed the right screen, taking notes of the central district layout.
Art's eyes—
Widened.
As she read the left screen.
"What is this?"
Arthur's elbows rested on the chair armrests as he leaned slightly forward.
His eyes—
Closed.
For a singular moment.
A memory—
Flashed.
Of a distant past.
A young boy stood on the open courtyard beneath the central tower.
His head—
Turned.
As a warm smile rested on his face.
Arthur looked down at the boy, reaching his hand towards him.
The recollection—
Ended.
As the warmth shifted into distant cold.
Arthur's eyes opened as his voice lowered.
"A pathway…out of control."
Art's ears twitched at the softness of his voice.
He seems…burdened.
She turned her palm up, pointing her fingers at the screen.
"How does this device accomplish that?"
Arthur reached for the document stack, opening the file folder.
"Deletion of the maker's root within them."
Grimm's head tilted back.
"And where do I come into play?"
A page was turned as Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"You will be the one to detonate them over the central city."
Grimm's eyebrows raised.
"That works for me."
Art's hand raised.
"What exactly will I be doing?"
Arthur's eyes moved towards the middle screen.
"You will investigate the watchman activity in the west."
Art focused on the same screen.
"And if I encounter the watchman?"
Arthur leaned back in his chair.
"Take them out."
Art's jaw tightened.
"Roger."
The room became—
Still.
Jean's pen scratched across the paper at a fast pace, filling the space around them.
Grimm continued to relax, propping his right foot up on the table.
Arthur closed the document file as he reached for his mug.
Art's vision—
Fell.
As she looked to her lap.
She cleared her throat.
"What about Kane?"
Arthur's hand—
Twitched.
Rippling the coffee in the mug.
It slowly continued to lift to his lips, muffling his sentence.
"...He has…his own mission."
Art's head tilted up as she began to observe Arthur.
His pupils—
Narrowed.
Looking into the coffee he was drinking.
Art's cheek rested in her left palm.
Arthur seems…regretful.
"Alright then."
Arthur briefly paused as he lowered the mug.
He watched the liquid settle before looking at the team.
"Any further questions?"
Grimm yawned, covering his mouth as he shook his head.
Jean closed her notepad.
"I'm all good."
Art nodded in agreement.
Arthur exhaled, pressing a button to turn the screens off.
"We depart in two days…you are dismissed."
Grimm, Jean and Art stood to their feet as Arthur slowly turned his chair away from them.
Grimm walked to the door first.
"Man, let's get some lunch."
Jean pocketed her notepad, following behind him.
"That's the first thing on your mind?"
Art was—
Quiet.
As she walked with them.
Her movement—
Paused.
At the door frame.
She gripped the side, glancing at Arthur over her shoulder.
Grimm turned from down the hall.
"You coming?"
Art sighed.
"Yeah."
The door—
Closed.
Leaving Arthur alone.
His head leaned back as he folded his arms together.
Prepare yourself…
His eyes—
Closed.
Trying to replay that same memory.
Nothing surfaced again.
…Marco.