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I was bored. I was allowed out early due to my good behaviour and all I could do was walk around the cold, gray corridors until later in the afternoon when my fellow team-mates would be released from their wakening cells. I was about to head down to the mess hall and grab something to snack on when the comms went crazy, saying that Ragnarok had escaped from his supervisors and is now somewhere in the vicinity, wreaking havoc. Multiple, supposed sightings were coming in at rapid-fire speeds. "How fast is this operative?" I think to myself as I sigh and take off running towards Sector 6. As I close in on the door I pass the Armory. There are sounds of power-tools and faint whispers of loud, obscene swear words. I look to the door and walk towards it, opening it. As the doors open, I notice a tall, scrawny boy with light brown hair. He's messing around, trying to pry open the door to the Ragnarok Locker. Various power-tools, weapons, and even a set of mech gloves lay scattered on the floor around him. He is, at the moment, trying to use a blowtorch. After it burns out, he threw it behind his back. To avoid the flying missile, I take a step back as the torch clanks to the ground.

"This locker is a fortress!" The boy exclaims loudly, completely oblivious of my presence in the room.

He then punches at the locker. The locker, being made of Blithym Metal, reflected the punch. He grimaces as he clutched his hand, then he perked up and turns towards me. The first thing that gets me is his eyes. His left eye was gold, while the other was silver. They seemed to be moving constantly, churning like a whirlpool.

"What is your name?" I say, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

"My name, is Fenryr."


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