Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 35 - Pranks and Rings

Chapter 35 - Pranks and Rings

Sunday is meant to be my day of rest, my little slice of peace in a chaotic week. Most Sundays, you'd find me sprawled on my bed, phone in hand, playing mobile games with old high school buddies—sometimes joined by Neil and Remuel. But today was different.

Agent Feena called us in first thing in the morning, just as the clock hit eight. The timing was cruel, especially since I'd been up until two playing games. The lack of sleep was a heavy weight pressing down on me, leaving me bleary-eyed and sluggish, my energy drained to the dregs.

Myrrh didn't seem to be faring much better. She slouched beside me on the sofa in the investigations office, her usual polished appearance slightly disheveled. A single rebellious cowlick jutted from her lime-green hair—a rare sight, given how meticulous she usually was. Dark shadows under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion, making her look uncharacteristically fragile.

Agent Feena, on the other hand, radiated sharp efficiency. She handed us steaming cups of coffee, her movements precise and deliberate. She settled into a nearby sofa, crossing her legs gracefully, her eyes scanning us with practiced scrutiny. Her expression softened as she smiled, though there was a glint of steel beneath the warmth.

Between sips of the bittersweet coffee, Myrrh and I recounted the events of the previous day in painstaking detail. Feena listened intently, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup as her gaze flickered between us.

"Project HUSBANDO, huh..." she murmured, her voice low and contemplative. Her eyes narrowed slightly as if searching her memory. "That project was real, but it's ancient—dating back to the early days of humanity's technological ascent. It's even older than the creation of WAIFUs, predating Xyraxis itself."

Myrrh tightened her grip on her cup, her voice barely above a whisper. "So Ismail was telling the truth. But... that's all. He seemed more curious about Zaft than anything else. No threats, no demands—just poker and small talk."

Feena leaned back, her gaze thoughtful. "He may be chasing the Red Meteor—the very thing I've been tracking. But make no mistake: Ismail is as dangerous and wanted as that Frame Unit."

Her words hung heavy in the air. I frowned, my curiosity getting the better of me. "You said he's a wanted terrorist. It's my first time hearing his name. What did he do?"

Feena tilted her head slightly, the faintest shadow crossing her face. The answer was coming, and I could tell it would be more than I bargained for.

"He's a master hacker," Agent Feena began, her tone measured but tinged with gravity. "His cybernetic implants—especially his eyes—are his most potent tools. Through them, he encodes complex computer commands faster than most can type a single sentence. He was the orchestrator of the infamous cybersecurity breach that shook the world's greatest superpowers—America, Russia, China. Hundreds of thousands of classified documents stolen in one fell swoop. But no leaks ever followed, no demands made. Since there was no tangible fallout, the governments swept it under the rug, burying the incident from public view."

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, piecing together the implications. "Maybe that's how he learned about Project HUSBANDO. But... why would he share that with me?"

Agent Feena's piercing gaze locked onto mine, and her next words sent a chill down my spine. "Tell me—are you, in any way, a lab rat who escaped from the project?"

"W-What?" The air seemed to freeze around me as fear tightened its grip. "Of course not! I had a normal childhood! A normal life! I even had an eventful high school!"

Her expression hardened, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What if those memories aren't yours?" she pressed, her voice cold and relentless. "What if they were planted? Fabrications designed to keep you unaware? The cybernetic genome experiments were notorious for warping a male test subject's mind. That's precisely why the procedure was banned for male humans—it's far too dangerous. But what if..." Her voice dropped to a near-whisper, every word cutting like a blade. "What if you're one of them?"