The Unwanted Relic

Chapter I

26:02:2024 02:21

"God, why didn't you warn me it would be so dark in here?"

"For an easy mission you're doing an awful lot of complaining," the voice on the other side of the line scoffed. "Is this as bad as that stint with that dead grenade a while back?"

The Prince shuttered, remembering the incident in a moment. The case had cracked due to the weather conditions without anyone knowing, letting the liquid ooze out over the course of an hour. The wet nature of the ordeal had luckily dismantled the actual bomb, but the liquid had soaked through all of the Prince's clothes. Some of his luxury jackets still reeked of the fluid.

"Try your best not to remind me," the Prince paused. "...again."

The other voice chuckled, "Alright, alright. You know, if lighting is your problem, you could just whip out your two pistols. They already blind me."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'intimidate'. They already 'intimidate' you." The Prince proceeded to take out his pair as prompted. Covered in the ornate jewels and gems he collected over the years, they did in fact gleam a bit, just barely reflecting the streetlights from outside. His bedazzled pistols and expensive taste in luxury were how he had earned his nickname, the "Diamond Prince".

"Well I'll be darned," the Prince smiled. "Spectre Lange had a good idea."

"I actually have them quite often," Spectre replied. "It's not my fault Jay never listens to them."

"Yeah, what happened there by the way?" the Prince asked. "This is a pretty simple mission, surprised he wanted to get rid of it."

Spectre sighed, "Something with his liver I think? I don't know-said it was a random incident, a one-off."

"I'm sure he's said that about a fair number of women too."

"The Diamond Prince can be funny?" Spectre responded with fake enthusiasm. "We sure are learning a lot today, folks."

"This is why I typically work alone," the Prince grumbled, temporarily hushing the other line. He perused through the hallway a bit more before coming upon a stairwell.

The mission was simple: log into one of the company's computers on the sixteenth floor, copy the information onto a drive, delete the history of his actions, and leave. Kemper United had been an enemy front for years, their brutal actions having created major damage. But recently, the Criminal Offense Reduction Network (C.O.R.N.) had not been able to pin down an exact penalizable activity. Even after the treacherous event from the year before. The Prince's job was not a guaranteed solution, but it could at least provide C.O.R.N. with another lead.

"How are those stairs treating you?" Spectre quipped, causing the Prince to now pick up on the slight density in his breath.

"I typically stick to the weights for a reason," the Prince replied truthfully. His body only acted as further evidence, a muscular frame that exuded pride through both size and strict maintenance. Paired with designer glasses and a curly undercut, it would be difficult not to admit that the Prince was one of the more popular operatives.

"Hmm, I would've never guessed." Parked in a building across the street, Spectre began setting up his own operation directly across from the floor the Prince was headed towards. After plenty of practice, setting up a sniper position took him under a minute. His locks were efficient, clicks were silenced, and even the positioning always seemed to be direct on the first try. A newer operative, Spectre certainly was not as experienced as the Prince, but he had quickly made a name for himself since he had joined the cause.

"Alright..." Prince took a moment to breathe as he cautioned himself along the doorframe. "Entering the sixteenth floor."

"Copy that," Spectre replied, allowing for Prince to slink in. At first glance, the space seemed nothing out of the ordinary. Typical office building; scattered desks with electronic equipment, tables and chairs somewhere between tidy and lived in, and even some half-full trash bins. As the Prince sauntered through the empty halls, he was still surprised at the seemingly normalness of the floor.