The Ouroboros Cycle

Step 001/12

ELSEWHERE

— - —

In a room devoid of light or sound, a man sat at his desk and read. There was a time when the darkness would have impeded him — but that time had passed. Now, he found it comforting. Colors distracted him from his work.

He turned to the next page of the report — despite not needing to ‘see’ the words to read them. Old habits, he supposed. With each successive sentence, his calm gave way to cold, calculated purpose.

The door opened. A blade of light pierced the room, illuminating the man and his desk. It cut across his forearm and highlighted an old burn scar. He instinctively moved his hand out to cover it.

He looked up. A woman stood at the doorway, hesitating. It was only then that he realized his face was twisted with rage.

He forced himself to relax, acknowledged her with a nod, and motioned her in.

She took two steps forward and spoke: “You’ve heard?”

“Yes.” He closed the report. “Do we know who yet?”

“Not yet.” She moved to approach, but stopped — as if a wind forced her back. “Whoever found the Pinnacle did so with the use of mnestics, and there’s a limited supply. We’re looking.”

“And the Contract?”

The woman didn’t respond.

He sighed. “Felix?”

“We didn’t find him. If he fell, or was pushed, he might still be falling. We have to assume the worst.”

The man stood, his eyes fixed on the backs of his own knuckles. “I don’t understand how this could happen. I don’t understand who would do this. Who could do this. Do they even know what they did?” He looked up at her. “This is bad.”

Her expression did not change. “The rest of the council has been alerted. I just came here to make sure you knew.” She took another step forward; her hand fell to his desk. “Maybe… maybe if we just-”

“Whatever you were about to say, don’t.” His voice was flat; something trembled just under the surface. “Whoever they are, they got lucky.”

She frowned. He could see the weariness in her face. There was something she wanted to tell him; there was something she wanted to say. Instead, she just closed her eyes and nodded.

He reached for her hand upon the desk, taking it into his own. His palm was like worn, scraped leather. Hers was ice. “I know you’re tired. I know. God, I know. I’m…”

He forced himself to stop. He took a breath, turned her hand over, and traced the scars along her wrist and forearm. She looked so frail, now. “We can’t stop now. We can’t give up now.”

Her eyes were still closed. “I know.”

“Go, now. Go back to the Garden. You know the way in. You’ll be safe there. I'm going to call up the task forces and we’ll figure out what this is. I’ll call you when it’s clear.”

She squeezed his hand back. At last, her eyes opened. “What about you?”

He smiled. “ I just need to figure some things out, and then I’ll come for you.”