The steel line the confines of a building, there, many people could be seen tirelessly working the night away. Resembling the ambiance of what might be expected of a call center, though it didn't seem eventful nor chaotic at the time.
A girl sat glued to the front of her monitor, unlike the many others who dearly wished to retire for the night, she was wide awake… maybe it was because she had received information in regards to a man who'd been classified as an awakened maji.
•Error…•
"Hm?"
"Rowan 3, is there a matter of concern?"
Scuffling can be heard, followed by mechanical disturbances, and an automated response… She could hear what was happening, though it was muffled.
On the other side the rowan had begun to check on the machine… surely it's wrong… right?
It had a capacity of 10Mi. Being brand new….
•Rowan 3?• The lady can be heard over the radio.
—Rebooting, checking systems. . ., systems operational—
Booting up the system, and putting his forearm inside the device the rowan would say
"Check for system errors"
—Please confirm identity—
"This is Officer Scott Church, District 5, Rowan 3"
—Voice ID confirmed—
—Thank you for your cooperation, analysis is in progress—
Despite being a rowan, Scott had excelled at mechanical engineering, he loved machines, he swore to himself… the moment his years of service were over, that he'd go back to being a mechanic with his dad.
The world of technology grows fast, and so he made an effort not to fall behind and tinkered with anything and everything he could get his hands on… he studied, at day, at night, during breaks, and lunches.
Though… as passionate as he was, he couldn't stand the countless hours of waiting at night… as most of the time, nothing happened… so he'd read…newspapers on the latest mechanical innovations…books on his tools…robotic breakthroughs… maybe the occasional magazine of bikini babes, who knows.
—Thank you for your patience, Officer Scott—
—Analysis report of, S.A.L No. 0.0.7.2.6—
—Software— —Clear—
—Hardware— —Clear—
—Status—
—Ready for assessment—
—No errors detected—
After what sounded like a torrent of metallic, bits and bobs.
—Rebooting…—
it went silent for a moment, when she could hear him returning to his seat.
"Miss, i confirmed it myself, the machine wasn't broken…"
Her anticipation was soon greeted by a message from the rowan she'd been speaking with since moments ago.
Clicking on the pop up that had just appeared, the records would display themselves on the screen.
Slowly… from confusion to shock her eyes went wide. Then in a twist she began to see stars, stars of which reflected her greatest desires, to be acknowledged and praised by her superiors.
She'd disconnect the line between her and the rowan, in favor of calling the higher ups.
And in the second it took for that line to activate
Passionately she'd swiftly type out an urgent message, to her boss, the kadever.
Her office mates seemed annoyed at the obnoxious clicking sounds the keyboard would make at her aggressive typing.
However this only served as the tip of the iceberg, as soon… The entire building would be engulfed in this quiet storm of murmurs, as wildfire spreads, rumors would reach the highest among the compound.
However, it was still to be confirmed, as the kadever hadn't officially released the information as of yet, contacting the technological division that they may handle the matter.
Why should they believe the qualms of an unknown mechanic?
Elsewhere, Norman walks, finally arriving at his home apartment. Climbing stairs, the only thought lingered with his wife, she works as a janitor for the city's prison. It's quite dangerous…
It took weeks of convincing and promises of taking the utmost precaution before Norman even considered supporting her decision.
From using her innate abilities of illusion, that she'd hide her long elven ears. To wearing a suit from head to toe.
He wasn't the best at managing his savings, but no matter how mundane the tasks he commissioned were, he alone made enough to support a, not so lavish, but simple lifestyle. Now how exactly could a person make anything from something like so?
To simply put it, he did the work to deserve such a pay out.
Building a sort of reputation akin to a humble restaurant tucked away in the shadows. It's not the type of thing anyone would casually bring about in a conversation, but when you're in need of a hardworking and efficient laborer or errand boy, the neighborhood subconsciously knew who to find.
Side jobs and business like handing out flyers, and drawing by the sidewalk, for as long as it didn't require formal registration and recognition… He scraped by.
She'd wanted to help for some time now…
And though she could've gone and done so alone, against his will, she didn't…
She insisted, the pay was high, she wore the suit, used her magic, and didn't really care about standing out. a year into the job… he'd bought her a bracelet that contained concealment engravings, he'd used up the last of his savings. That way, for as long as she'd store her magic into the thing the night prior to her shift, she wouldn't have to think about hiding her ears at work.
He did his best to be as supportive as he could, especially since they promised they'd lay low… He secretly felt miserable about how she'd go to such lengths to help him. However, in the same sense he'd feel blessed to have such a loving woman by his side.
Norman couldn't work a proper job, he couldn't risk being found out by the government, as if anybody knew who he really was and what he'd done, both he and his wife would see no other option but to completely isolate themselves from society.
Which they both hoped, would never happen…
As not only will they be constantly plagued by dangers, and haunted by abominations daily. Food, water, and shelter are not guaranteed, as there had only been a handful of human strongholds spared by the alliance since the Great War.
All this low profile…
Resulted in him living under a rock for the past 6 years, therefore he was unaware of the technological advancements in regards to detecting maji. Oblivious of the software development made to assess magnitude.
Back at the station he'd thought the rowan was simply afraid due to his appearance, finding it all the more hilarious
He was clueless as to what was about to happen, all because of a simple approach to a noble cause…
Well, that aside… he was home. She has done better with the bracelet for the past year… No matter, he'd always hope to see her smile after these long and grueling days.
His hand held keys, and unlocked the door. He hears… Lightly the door swung. What he saw next was…
She lay there on the carpeted floor hyperventilating, blood gushing from her nose…
Running to her side, he'd cradle her in his arms.
Looking carefully, she was in a craze. He'd held her tight to stabilize and conserve what energy she had… It was mana overload.
Usually it occurs… due to mana overuse, causing the afflicted to go mad and driving them to use magic until they are nought but a shell of themselves.
Desperate and disoriented between heavy breaths, she'd place the palm of her hand to her head, hoping that her healing magic would alleviate the pain…
"Wait, no!" Norman was quick to stop her though "don't"
More magic only made the symptoms worse…
He held her to his chest, she was fighting notably… Many thoughts raced through his head… was this his fault, guilt near corrupted his mind when that train of thought would be broken-
"T-the Window!" She'd say heavily
"What?! No! I'm sorry! This-? The window?! What's with the window?!" His eyes darted in panic
"They.. S-someone, or I don't know, I saw a flash of light…Ha… Then, There was this sharp pain… it hit my head…It phased through… the window…"
Was all she could say before going limp in his embrace.
It dawned on him… He had little time.
Quickly he'd wrap his jacket around his shoulders and fashioned a sort of hammock for her. He'd cradle her with one arm whilst the other helped traverse the urban rooftops…
He ran fast, as fast as he could…
Meanwhile… on the other side of the city…
There stood the Iris who pondered on her chair…
'Someone beyond 10Mi…?'
Looking onto the holographic display in front of her. She'd assumed a graceful figure, one hand atop the other, a stance that hadn't suited a youthful person.
"I would like to meet this, Norman Thatcher"
He peaked her intrigue, as she hadn't met another to be classified with a similar level of power to hers. That dangerous gleam in her eyes spoke volumes, beside a smile so sinister it threatened to tear her mouth apart.