[Paperwork never seems to end...]
I lean back on the chair, wheels rolling as I turn to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall.
The whole city can be seen from above.
I squint my eyes at the skyscrapers below, glaring with the sun's light.
Sighing deeply, I roll to the wide mahogany desk, picking up my pen as I start scanning through countless piles of paper.
The door swings open, my expression turning irritated as I stare at the man in front of me.
[Nice to see you again, Mrs. Alabaster. I thought you had finally left this place.]
I try my best to ignore him. That proves impossible as he starts touching every wall. Knocking on the wood, smelling the paintings.
[Though I suppose you wouldn't, your office is amazing.]
[Who even smells paintings, Butterdam?]
[Couldn't tell you.]
The young man plops down on the velvet couch. His brown hair is perfectly split into a middle part, earrings shining brightly.
He runs a hand through his black suit, smoothing it out.
Though wrinkles still remain on it.
[Leave me alone, Oskar. I'm—]
Oskar: [You said it.]
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
[Said what?]
Oskar: [My name.]
I stay silent. Enough to hear crickets inside my mind.
Ultimately, I decide to ignore him, returning to the mountain of stacked sheets in front of me.
[Has he visited you yet?]
I shake my head.
[Serving in Indonesia. Been about 2 years, he'll come back soon.]
Oskar: [Really? That's impressive. Still, poor guy. I wouldn't be able to deal with those... Things.]
I feel my body tensing. Long locks of jade hair brush my forehead. I tuck them behind my ear.
[As much as I hate paperwork... I'd never consider exterminating Isothes.]
Oskar: [Yeah. I guess you're more of a "shout-orders-at-people" person, eh?]
[Do you want to die, Butterdam?]
[No ma'am.]
[Good.]
An old painting tilts, swinging as a corner detaches from the wall.
[Not again... Butterdam, Fix that.]
Oskar: [See? I'm not wrong.]
He jumps off the couch, heading to the painting as he clasps it to the nail on the wall.
[Whatever. At least I'm not being enslaved as a Supervisor.]
Oskar: [Thank you very much. Well, I already had a chat with you, so see you later.]
[I'd rather not see you at all.]
Butterdam heads to the door, stopping just short.
[I know you're concerned for your son, Jenneah. But...]
[Even though he's... Far away and all that... He'll be safe.]
I glance up at him, smiling sincerely.
[Thank you, Oskar.]
[No worries. The guy's really strong, being 17 and all.]
Oskar: [Also, you said my na—]
Jenneah: [Leave.]
He chuckles, closing the door gently.
I sigh, picking up a pile of papers as I stand up, heading to the tall wooden rack to my left, filled to the brim with several documents. Glancing at the couch, I spot something.
A letter.
Growing curious, I quickly organize the new documents before picking the letter up.
Returning to my chair, I cautiously open the envelope, retrieving the message inside.
My eyes widen.
My heart seems to stop.
For a whole minute.
Though it's probably been a mere second.
9th Circle spotted.
Indonesia?
No.
Russia.
My mind races with possibilities. Counters. Defenses.
They all end in disaster.
I stand up abruptly, rushing to the same old painting.
I barely manage to grab it before it falls.
A small panel with numbers appears shortly after. I raise a trembling finger, typing in the numbers.
Ones that I prayed not to use.
116 104 114 101 101 32 115 97 103 101 115
A fingerprint.
The wall slides, revealing a narrow elevator. I get inside, pressing the only button.
Floor -85.
3 minutes.
The metallic doors slide open, revealing a wide corridor filled with people entering and leaving rooms. Some carry somber expressions on their faces, walking hysterically between rooms.
Some sit on the ground, defeated.
Others try to maintain order, helping those whose faces are paralyzed from shock and fear.
But no matter how much fear or hope their eyes show...
All their gazes fall on me.
[Mrs. Alabaster, what do we...]
[It's a disaster... I don't...]
[There's nothing we can do...!]
[Tell us.]
[Help us.]
[Save us.]
I slither through the sheer number of people, stepping inside the dark, central room, illuminated only by screens.
Focus shifts from dozens of computers and screens to me.
[What's the situation?]
An official approaches, a concerned look on her face.
[We have several repo—]
[I couldn't care less. Have you gathered intelligence? I need UAVs all over Moscow. Contact the Russian government for evacuation. We need Exterminators prepared.]
She stammers.
[T-the... I mean, yes! We have and... Y-you need to see this...]
A large screen lights up in front, showing an expanse of rock.
Gray, flat.
As far as the eye can see.
Unending.
I feel my heart beating faster.
[What's this?]
Tears spill from the official's eyes.
[Moscow. It... It all h-happened in... I don't know, it was... Too fast.]
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Stumbling, she sinks to the ground.
My knees weaken, too, though I manage to stand.
[Contact all IEM bases at least 850 km near Moscow. Close airspace over Western Russia.]
I shout.
[I need 250 1st Rank Exterminators, all Honorary Ranks...]
[And her.]
[...We need her.]
Silence falls for a split second, unsure glances shooting around.
[Yes, ma'am!]
They echo.
Someone taps my shoulder. I flinch, turning around.
Butterdam.
[Oskar?]
His eyes strain as they try to remain calm. Redness shows on them.
Oskar: [There's only so much we can do.]
[...I suggest establishing containment rings. Tver, Bryansk, and Smolensk.]
I hesitate.
[Alright. What about—]
[We've already set martial law on the European part of Russia, Belarus, all three Baltic States, and Ukraine. Poland and Finland are on emergency alert.]
[Evacuation corridors have been established through the west, east, and north, at least 650 km away from the threat. An eastern corridor for support, also.]
I relax a little.
Just a little.
[Prioritize rail over road, and civilians inside a 150 km radius. Once the containment rings are established, we'll start assessing the threat level.]
[Though all I know is... That it's catastrophic.]
He nods, already walking away.
I glance down at the girl, still crying hysterically on the ground. I pick her up, staring into her eyes.
[Gather yourself. We need to do something. Else... The whole world may become dust. Understood?]
My grip tightens on her arm. She nods frantically.
[Prepare a helicopter. Or a plane, I don't care. Just get it done. Fast.]
She runs out of the room.
I close my eyes, sounds distorting as I sweat cold.
[Exterminators positioned...]
[Heavy armory...]
[What do you mean logistics are wrong...?]
[What a bad day to be alive... I'd rather...]
[Mrs. Alabaster.]
I snap back to reality. An old man with a beard that reaches his chest.
[Mr. Higa.]
Mr. Higa: [Exterminators have been deployed, and are forming rings in real time. We... Haven't found anything regarding the Isothe... Yet.]
I shake my head.
[Or rather... We haven't looked deep enough.]
His shoulders tense.
[What does that mean?]
[Focus the drones closer. That's what I mean.]
Mr. Higa: [It certainly can't be possible for an Isothe capable of such destruction to be small in scale, Mrs. Alabaster. My guess is that—]
[Do it, Mr. Higa. It is very certainly possible.]
[And I'd rather pray that creature's there.]
He lowers his head, tapping his foot on the ground.
[As you say, Mrs. Alabaster.]
[Good.]
I say. I head to the door as I feel my phone vibrating.
It's done.
[I have someplace to go. Keep track, Mr. Higa. I have trust in your ability.]
Leaving the room, I walk down the frantic corridor, taking the lift to the top floor.
7 minutes.
Stepping on the rooftop, I spot a tilt-rotor landing on the helipad.
Several officials salute, and I nod quickly at them.
[Where to, Mrs. Alabaster?]
Asks a man in a dusty suit.
[O4.]
He nods, opening the aircraft's door.
I get inside, sitting on a leather seat as the official follows behind.
The tilt-rotor lifts off, heading southeast.
[2 hours flight time is expected, Mrs. Alabaster.]
[Can you go faster?]
[I'm afraid not...]
[Then stop wasting words. Make sure to stay in contact with the bases formed at the containment rings. Stay still until I arrive. As soon as the Isothe is spotted, maintain complete vigilance. Understood?]
[Understood.]
He says, falling silent.
[I said keep in contact.]
[O-oh, yeah... Sorry.]
Stammering, he takes out his phone, dialing up a number.
Speaking unintelligible words.
Minutes feel like hours as we fly above the sea.
12 calls.
1 hour 52 minutes.
512 km/h.
And as my mind spirals at the countless lives sitting on my shoulders...
I spot it.
A small island, rising steeply from the ocean with rocky cliffs. A waterfall strangely flows down the middle, with a wooden cabin on the highest cliff, a dark, ashen tree with red leaves wrapping around it.
[Hover just near the edge.]
[Understood.]
As the aircraft approaches, I stand from my seat, approaching the door.
As I open it, a strong wind hits my face. The smell of salty water is present.
Hopping off, I barely manage to land on the rocky surface in front of the cabin.
Anxiety grips my heart.
I step cautiously towards the cabin, knocking on the wooden door.
Blinking against the sudden absence of wind, I realize I'm already inside.
[What do you need?]
There's only a wooden bed in the cabin, several roots branching around it, disappearing under the mattress.
A girl, around 20, sits on the edge. Her pink hair is neatly styled in two double buns, with two long and thick strands of hair coursing down to her waist. Her irises are pale rose in color.
A neutral expression stays on her face.
Jenneah: [We need your help. A 9th Circle Isothe... It's urgent.]
[Why should I take interest in your matters?]
[It certainly wouldn't affect me at all.]
I open my mouth to argue, closing it shortly after.
She's right.
[Though, certainly, I'm really curious to see what type of creature a 9th Circle has become.]
[Then... Will you help us?]
[As far as I'm interested in doing so.]
Her clothes shift, turning into a white blouse and a pink ruffled skirt.
[I've taken a liking to frilled cuffs.]
[You're going to engage in combat, I wouldn't suggest—]
Her eyes narrow.
[I certainly don't need your uniforms.]
[Sorry.]
[Where's the creature?]
[Moscow. You won't do anything if it's not a real emergency, though.]
[What a shame.]
My heart drops as the world around us folds. In a split second, we find ourselves at an IEM base.
Exterminators freeze around, staring at us.
[Get back to work, everything's alright.]
At my order, they start moving again.
Setting up barricades, screens, and medical facilities.
A large building guarded by a few Exterminators stands tall in front.
I step towards it, nodding to their salutes as I enter.
The sounds of phones, orders, and operations overwhelm me, though I quickly spot someone directing the officials.
[Name and rank.]
He salutes.
[Eugene Faroe. Honorary Rank.]
[Is containment in place? Evacuations? Do we know anything about the Isothe?]
He blinks twice, processing the questions before answering.
[250 1st Rank exterminators have been divided into three rings. This is the outer one, at around 400 km from Moscow. The others are at 200 km and 180 km, respectively.]
[An Honorary has been placed on the two outermost rings, while the Inner has the remaining 27.]
I nod.
[All civilians have been evacuated via railway, roads, and air if far enough. No civilian is within a 300 km radius of here. The east corridor wasn't needed, as the North, West, and South have remained functional and effective.]
[About the Isothe...]
[We've spotted it.]
...
[It's as you said, Mrs. Alabaster.]
I jerk my head towards the voice.
Mr. Higa: [That... Thing. It's the mere size of a human.]
My eyes lose focus, vision darkening.
I rub them, blinking thrice.
As I process the words.
Their implications.
[...It]
I whisper.
[Mrs. Alabaster?]
[Focus on the thing.]
[As you wish.]
The screen zooms.
Chills run down my spine.
My palms sweat profusely.
It was horrifying.
Normal.
Average.
That thing...
Would've passed unnoticed.
Day by day.
And nobody would've known.
...
With pointy black hair and eyes a deep blue, almost black, it stood still.
No taller than the average human.
No different.
A 17-year-old boy.
An Isothe.
A demon.
Holding something in its hands with a calm expression.
I let out a deep breath.
[S-strike.]
Silence.
[Strike at it, for god's sake! W-who's in command of the second ring?]
[M-Mr. Jatau.]
[Contact him. Set UAVs on the Isothe. And Jatau.]
[Understood!]
Screens show the creature, unmoving. An official hands me a phone.
[Mrs. Alabaster.]
[Jatau. I need you to strike at the demon. Don't give him rest.]
[Understood.]
My eyes fall on the screen to the left. The camera focuses on a man wearing an orange suit, contrasting with his dark skin. His hair, the same orange, is styled in long dreadlocks.
[Are you able to reach it from there?]
Jatau: [Of course.]
The drone's camera shakes as countless chunks of land detach from the ground, shooting at incredible speeds towards a single point.
Towards it.
The attack subsides shortly after.
Jatau appears in front of the creature.
Impaled by dozens of tentacles of flesh and bone, prodding out from the ground.
Panic spreads through the room.
And it seems to affect me, too.
[Attack it!]
[Where are the Honorary Ranks?!]
[Kill it!]
Jenneah: [Everybody stay put!]
Reason returns, gradually.
And a deafening silence spreads through.
[Mistakes are to be forgiven.]
The voice rasps my brain.
It sounds normal.
It doesn't feel like it.
[Any other attack directed at me will result in catastrophe.]
[For example, the massacre of all humans residing in Europe and Asia.]
How can he speak?
Why can he speak?
Jenneah: [Retreat... Retreat all forces.]
Mr. Higa: [Retreat! We'll—]
[Bring me the human with the most authority.]
His gaze shifts to the camera.
And I could've sworn he was looking.
At me.
[I wish to speak with it.]
Panicked gazes turn desperate upon hearing its words.
[Mrs. Alabaster...]
[It's for us...]
[He only wishes to speak to...]
[Good idea...]
[I'll go.]
Jenneah: [Retreat everyone towards this ring! I repeat, I want every Exterminator towards the Third Ring!]
[Yes, ma'am!]
Phones buzz. People talk.
Movement.
Action.
Hope.
Though I stay still.
Waiting.
A blink.
And three and a half hours have passed.
Soil turns into gray stone.
The armored vehicle bumps around, trying to travel through the wasteland.
And then, it comes to a stop.
I step out, dust floating around.
And far away, it is.
Standing.
An expression so calm, it borders on unsettling.
[O4.]
[Don't call me that. What do you want now?]
[Stay behind... And...]
[Watch out for me.]
I step forward.
Again.
With each step, I approach it.
Standing just a few meters apart.
Me?
[Eh?]
I stand far. Near the vehicle.
Instead...
She stands close.
[O4?]
[Stay there.]
She says, not bothering to look at me.
[What do you have in those arms of yours?]
[It's precious to me.]
They stare at each other, perfectly still.
[You are interesting creatures. I certainly find myself curious.]
[I find myself questioning if you're a human. I'm equally as curious now.]
[I certainly appear so. Like you.]
[Are you an Isothe?]
[Certainly not.]
[Then?]
The girl's face twists, taking countless forms, none akin to anything seen.
It's grotesque.
Unnerving.
Then normal.
[A Psyllid.]
[I see. Are you planning to hurt me?]
[It would be interesting. Certainly.]
[I wish to speak with the woman standing there.]
[What for?]
The creature raises his arms, showing something wrapped with a cloth.
As the cloth unwraps, it's revealed.
A baby.
Alert echoes all throughout my body.
[I want to hand my daughter to the humans.]
[Why, certainly, would you?]
[I deem myself unable to take care of such fragile being. It belongs in a safer place.]
[I see.]
[Come forward, Jenneah.]
The words hammer into my mind. I step forward, standing just in front of the Isothe.
[Will you take it, human? This creature needs your help.]
I stammer.
[And you cannot refuse because it is a "demon".]
[As truth be told...]
[The mother was human.]
It stares at me with sharp eyes.
I glance at the baby.
Sleeping.
Peacefully.
I raise my hands.
Hesitantly.
And take it.
