The Indigo Children

Be gone, microchip? Prepare your tissues for tears of joy next.

"So, how are you, 002? Is life in the safe zone complicated for a young prodigy?"

Morgan Woods grinned, pressing the button for the highest floor once we were inside the elevator. The agents inside shuffled to make room, and only a few knew the man talking to me was, in fact, the vice leader of the whole agency.

"It was pretty rough at first, but I've learned to just roll with it." I returned his grin, and after his small nod of understanding, we waited and watched as the agents get off the elevator, one by one. Once it was just the two of us inside, Morgan spoke again.

     "Listen, Little Minerva, about the call with your father a few days back.. you know, when something interfered?" He eyed me warily, and seeing him look almost tortured, made me sigh and nod in a sluggish manner.

"I know. You were telling the truth about the attack."

The old man had his eyes wide for a second, before he, too, sighed. "We all panicked. They were trashing everything. Everywhere. Knocked out majority of the agents in the room. But yet again, they were all nerds, so they couldn't.. you know, put up a good fight."

"I get it. They're in technical. Was anybody killed?"

"No. But once you see this, you're going to flip out." Just as he ended his talking, the elevator door slid open, and we both stepped onto the pristine white floor of the main control base of the agency.

But there's a catch.

"Holy legend of macarons in a box of alien dominated donut shop," I breathed, my eyes bulging. "This is downright, unbelievably, unacceptably wrong and out of place!"

My voice was aghast at the sight of a wrecked control room, the computers on the floor, some had their screen cracked. Papers and folders were scattered everywhere, I even had one under my shoe. The tables were upside down, here and there, out of place. chairs are bent and broken, the door we had come through was crashed, leaving glass shards littering the floor.

"How could they hurt such beautiful devices, god, I can't breathe," I fanned myself, pointing to the white, probably plasma-screened computers on the floor. Honestly, they look like they had been dancing to Miley Cyrus and then get squished by a tank.

"I knew you would comment on that," Morgan laughed humorlessly, watching as a number of people in a protective jumpsuit picked up the folders and the hard disks sprawled on the floor. Some was getting rid of the shards of glasses on the metal frames of the room, scooping them up and into their own bins.

How long exactly, will it take to restore the beauty of all the computers in this once-majestic room?

"I knew there was an attack, in fact, I already had it pictured in my head, right here," I tapped on my temple. "But I did not picture it as bad as this. I mean, this is just unnaceptable."

The look on Morgan Woods' face was definitely priceless. It said 'I know, right', but with the mix of.. old. Don't you dare tell him I said that.

"Yeah, I can surely agree with that." Morgan jumped over the big shards of glass pieces, and the crunching voice was heard from under his polished shoe. "Your father didn't want you to know. Now that you're here, I think it's best for you to know what's going on in the agency."

I, too, jumped over the shards after taking Morgan's offering hand. "I think it's best for me to know before anything. This place is a wreck. Are any other rooms attacked?" Careful steps were taken as Morgan led me into his office, the one that's not ruined, for once.