Paul had added himself to the current watch. So far, nothing had happened. Sitting in their little base, so far separated from the main action of HDO operations, the Code Red seemed almost unreal to the Aedificator Security Detail. There was of course the possibility that someone might try to take the position, but it would be foolish to make such a major move this early in the game. If someone were to make an attempt at the Aedificator it would most likely be in the endgame. And even then, there was no reason to believe that they would target this location. It would be just as likely that they would take Morocco or Guatemala. Or one that Paul didn't know about. Each security detail only had contact with two other Aedificator locations. As far as Paul knew, no one outside the regulars at the board room in Phoenix knew the location of more than that. In fact, no one outside of that group even knew exactly how many locations there were, or had any idea of how they could actually be used or if they all needed to be activated to achieve results. It wasn't Paul's job to know those things. His job was to make sure that this one location stayed under direct HDO control at all times. At any cost.

He stopped for a moment to think about his team. All of them were well trained and good men, but three of them had never seen any actual action in the field. Paul hoped it would stay that way. with a bitter chuckle he recalled what someone higher up in the organization had once told him: "When the time comes, the most likely foe an HDO agent will face is a fellow HDO member acting under separate orders." The guy had claimed that the board was divided enough to have created secret factions, each with different policies and hierarchies. As Paul considered the coming crisis, he couldn't help but wonder if petty bickering would destroy humanity before any external threats could get to it. It would be a fascinating race, and he had a ticket with a great view.

Sidis was glad to see the situation brought under control. For a moment, she was truly worried that this was all some elaborate trap. But then the gunman was apprehended and the men in charge offered to explain everything.
"A briefing? Yes, that would be quite acceptable. Payment details and lab reports are in the suitcase here. But if you want to run your own tests that is understandable."

Wilson let Vance take the lead. Arguing with him would accomplish nothing. Well, he could probably vent a little, but there was always the staff shrink if he really had to let it all out. If he had the courage or foolishness to do so. You could never be so certain about confidentiality when loyalties were as fractured as they were. Director Claymoor's protection was vast, but if you stuck your neck out enough...

Better to just think about work. He took the proffered briefcase and considered opening it. Wilson wasn't fully briefed himself, however the orders he had made him certain he'd know most of it shortly. He decided to hand it off to the appropriate staff when he could. They strode down the halls swiftly. Vance took a smug lead, Wilson following a few feet behind, Miss Sidis and her escorts not far behind his own quick steps. The one good thing about being with Vance is they didn't stop at the first security point. Wilson considered halting anyway just to be irritating, but it would again accomplish nothing.

They took an uncomfortably long elevator ride down. Wilson managed to not quick tap his foot in impatience, but he didn't look quite so professional as he should've. They arrived in the usual amount of time and, once again letting Vance take charge, followed him out the elevator, down a hall, through a pair of austere doors, into one of the many briefing rooms.

It was fairly well lit for a change. Most of the agents preferred dimly lit rooms with monitors, but most of those were turned off for now. 4 long folding tables had been set up with roughly eight chairs behind each. And the room was only occupied by one other agent, probably an active field operative. That didn't last for long, though. One of the opposite doors opened.

And in glided Director Claymoor. Imposing Lillian Claymoor, eldest and head of the board of directors. Wilson relaxed as her smooth, honeyed voice cut at Vance.

...

"Richard, it's good to have you here. Most of the board prefers to hide away and send their little eyes and ears out to do the important work. Glad some of you still have the balls to put yourself in the same room as an old woman."

Lilian had stop caring about pleasantries after the first few serious assassination attempts. While she couldn't prove which little bitch was trying to do her in, she had no doubt in her mind that ambitious Dickie boy was one of those wouldn't hesitate to remove her. He wouldn't try anything in here, she was certain, not with the knowledge that her personal escorts would be within range. It pleased her to grind his gears, though. She turned her attention over to Agent Wilson.

"Good work, James. That could have gone wrong in any number of ways. You should really take some time off to train so you don't almost pass out every time you use it. It will have to wait until after the current operation, but take some vacation and trust one of the company experts to not be out to get you long enough to get a few sessions in."

The man was a little too paranoid. It would keep him alive, but successful training would do just as well, plus make him more invaluable to whoever eventually took over after she left. She'd probably have to retire after this, if all went well. The liberties she had taken were necessary, but the eventual politics of it all would force her to retire. At least I have one more threat to prevent she quipped.

Her eyes swept over Marc. She had nothing specific to tell him and no intent at attempting courtesy. His record and her network assured her that he was not currently aligned with any of the growing fractures led by a handful of directors. His neutrality was nearly observably perfect. A few might suspect he was her man now, but that was fine. She called out for a techie. One swiftly came in, she indicated the briefcase, he took it, and left. Turning to the girl and her guards.

"That should be good enough, gentlemen. You could have honestly left at the door, but I understand the nature of protecting things. Rest assured we will take excellent care of Sidis."

She didn't wait for their objections, but rather waved her hand. Four brutish men came in and politely walked out the confused escorts. This left her full attention toward Sidis.

"As much as I'd prefer to see to the other potential operative, we should get started. I know how busy Richard is and it would be a shame to keep him here for long. Sidis, come up to the front and have a seat. You too, James. Feel free to interrupt me with any questions. I'll answer most of them and those I won't you don't need to know the answers to. I'll start off with my own, in fact."

"Sidis, are you aware of the unique genetic trait you carry?"

Vance grinned at the mildly backhanded compliment. There was more truth to her words than one might think—most of his fellow directors would prefer to avoid confronting her directly, but Vance was confident he could handle her direct nature. Lilian might not like him deep down, but Richard had nothing but respect for the old woman's attitude and the balance of power she'd managed to establish during her tenure.

"A pleasure as always, Elle."

He put out his cigarette and dropped it in the trash can. A pleasant gesture on his part.

The escorts being order to leave was a nice touch. It was a direct hit to whichever director had sent them. Vance imagined if he'd sent someone, they'd probably have been kicked out as well. The less eyes, the better.

He wasn't sure why she asked the girl something so obvious. Frankly, it didn't really matter; he was sure he had her reasons.

Jonathan was on his fourth mental runthrough of the path from the lobby to his current position, which was getting gradually more distorted each time, before the inevitable sound of the lock turning disrupted him in the process. He couldn't claim to be mentally prepared, likely never would be, but that seemed to be a little concern. The two guys from before brought him down a couple of corridors, before abandoning him in an examination room with some seem-to-be doctor in his twenties. He had a glowing enigmatic smile as he carried Jonathan over to the bench.

Fumbling forth a note, he started reading programmatically. "Umm. For your own sake, d-don't do anything rash." Moments after, he threw it away and continued in a more luster tone. "Well, that aside, I'm William Nimbus. Happy to make you acquaintance. How has your day been? Enjoy being foreverial tied up?
Hey there, easy with the death stares, I'm just trying to break some ice. Most people just give me this weird look, guess you're one of the unlucky informed ones, eh? Anyway, take it easy, I'm just going to take a blood sample, it's nothing serious. See? It's empty, nothing to be afraid of."
"Empty like your promises." Jonathan mumbled to himself, which did little to stop William's stride.
"Unlike HBO, which is brimming with toxic. Oops, did I say that out loud? Sorry I'm used to being alone. Can I have that secret back? Maybe you can have another one in return."
"Like what the hell is going on?"
"We're looking for people with superpowers!" William remained consistently nonchalant and excited, punctuating his words with an embarrassing grin every now and then.
"What. Seriously?" The returning words were coated with skepticism.
"Anyway, I've been told to do this, whether you like it or not. This might sting a little."

Jonathan felt helpless while bracing for impact, as the syringe deftly entered through an opening on the restraints, plunging into the arm. William did the expected "Good job, that wasn't so bad was it?" before proceeding in a significantly more jittering fashion.
"Uh oh."
"Uh oh?"
"It seems to be stuck. Give me a moment. This might... Sting a little more." His words rang true as he forcefully pulled out the blood sample. They both looked at it in surprise as rime coated the plastic instrument. Jonathan was about to open his mouth, not entirely sure what he was going to say, but was promptly cut off. "So. I'll have your results in a little while. Sit tight, eheh~"

There was only one response the woman's words.
"Yes director, I was aware. I was engineered as a member of the bloodline. The exact importance of this has however never been revealed to me. I am also unaware of my reason for being here. I was merely told to follow whatever directions you gave me. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me on these points?"
And Sidis waited for an answer on which the world would turn.

After several minutes, William returned with his usual impenetrable expression. "I see you haven't left me yet. Terrific! Well, I have good news, and bad news."

"Bad news is, the result was negative. Sorry, it seems you're not fit for disregarding the common expectations of reality. I know what you're thinking. 'I have to win the genetic lottery to get supernatural powers? How is that fair? I'm unattractive, bad with girls, poor at sports, my parents gave me a bad name and worst of all my wiener is too tiny. Don't I deserve this at least?!'" His dramatization of the whole ordeal fit right into a school play of Romeo and Juliet.
"I don't think I want to hear the good news."
"Yes! The good news! Thank you for reminding me. The good news is that I get to keep you. I exchanged some technobabble with my superiors, and I'm allowed to take a closer look at your body for the following weeks. Isn't that splendid?"
"I don't want to. Can I have a say in this? B-besides, my body is nothing special. I just have a case of hypothermia. Jonathan had originally started using it as an excuse, but was at a point of believing it himself due to the absence of other explanations.
"And I'm employee of the month. You have to be at several stages of denial to consider that normal behavior. Besides, your eyes are practically begging me to take you along, there's a shimmer in them that I haven't seen in my mirror for a good while."

"With that said, I'll have to leave you to your room again for a little while. There's still a few zombies I need to get through before my day is over, and paperwork too. Ah, I'm so glad someone conscious came along to talk with me. You really brightened my day up you know; a ray of sunshine in this gloomy place."
"See you later then. I will inform your escort party that we are done."

Wilson didn't know much either. There were things you were told, things you put together, and the mass of idle speculation that surrounded and obscured the truth. No one had ever told him the exact nature of the events surrounding the absence of many with the bloodline from holding power within the organization. Everyone knew there had been some terrible moments in the shadows the twentieth century had cast, but the exact nature of what had occurred had been buried. As far as he was aware, Director Claymoor was one of the few people who had been front and center.

Miss Sidis responded well. She didn't seem overly bothered by her central role in the briefing. Probably the only one who will be so composed.

Claymoor smiled fairly warmly. There was a hint of exhaustion in her eyes, but Wilson could read little else on her striking face. She seemed sincere as she answered Sidis.

"I cannot kindly tell you, but I will try not to be unduly cruel with my explanation. The exact importance is unknown and, more importantly, feared."

Her expression had hardened a bit, but there was something very wrong about it. The director looked pained as she turned her eyes towards him and the other agent before returning them to Sidis.

"Our little group of monster hunters, string pullers, and guardians is vast. And we are blind. Our records are not exact, but we know we've been here for over 4000 years. Up until the twentieth century, we were mostly comprised of men and women with your same unique trait. There was an incident I will not explain. Suffice it to say, we have very few members with the bloodline within our ranks as a result. So, we are rather shorthanded. Specifically, you are part of a pet project that I considered shutting down on many occasions, no offense to you personally. Director Carlis hasn't quite crossed enough ethical boundaries that I'm aware of, but he certainly is pushing as close to the edge as he can."

Her smile hadn't slipped away, but Wilson winced a little at her direct remarks. Carlis was largely considered to be the unofficial second head. He had a lot of sway and far too much freedom. Claymoor kept on.

"Across the world, there are sites we have maintained for centuries now. They are recorded to contain an ancient anti-planet weapon. The exact number and location are not important, but you and those like you are critical because those unlike you can't enter them. After fifty years of research all that we really know is that the sites have some field that distinguishes lifeforms within it and a pinpoint accuracy in eradicating ones that do not meet its requirements. We should have learned more, but there were other matters and the ruins aren't exactly safe even for those who meet the requirements to pass the threshold. It comes down to this, though: We are out of time"

She halted for a moment, taking in a breath.

"There is an living mass approaching the Sun and it appears to be of sufficient size that it will engulf it."

Lillian wasn't actually expecting an outburst from her agents. Still, it was a good sign in her books. Most of the other weasels and rats would not have actually interrupted her so he was either very skilled and placed deeply or he truly was as neutral as he appeared. She trusted that James would find out for certain which was true. Terrible as he was at keeping his face emotionless, he picked up a lot on people. It was one of the parts of him that made him truly exceptional. That and the barrier that could probably stop a small car in emergency. If they both somehow survived, she'd probably see him as one of her escorts in future.

At the moment he was white as a sheet, though.

"At the moment, we have little. One of our long range sats luckily managed to be in its path so we got some shots and its maw would easily be able to easily fit a star three times as wide into it. It appears to be moving fairly quickly. We estimate around 3-4 months before it manages to reach the Sun. As for a plan, we have one option: The Aedificator. What little we know about it has kept us from tampering with it in the past centuries. However, we no longer have that luxury and we have to prime it. The primary site in the Antarctic is certain that the only thing that is preventing them from bringing it online right now is that the other sites are not turned on. That is the obstacle. All the sites must be primed and we've done little more than guard them. From the state of the ruins we have explored, we are certain that the machine is intact. Its construction and materials are nearly indestructible. It is just a matter of training enough of the bloodline up and hoping they meet the right requirements to avoid whatever security measures are in place."

Sidis seemed very concerned by this news. Her face adopted a look of sincere seriousness.
I see. If I was called here, I must assume you are talking in earnest and all of your datum are correct.
Sidis' brow furrowed- the first crack in the girl's serene disposition all day
If it is allowed I would appreciate further clarification on the matter. Are we certain of the creature's intent and capabilities? Are we able to communicate with it?
We will be working with the other blooded from the lobby, yes? How much do they know and what are we cleared to tell them?
Where are we going and when do we begin?

Miles away, a keyboard clicked rapidly. The man behind it whispered instructions softly into a microphone as he listened in on the meeting through Wilson’s earpiece. He was watching several monitors at once with a bizarre intensity. There were no cameras in the room where the meeting was taking place, but the audio was plenty for him to understand the intonation behind the words. As a child, his parents had told him that multitasking was a myth. That he couldn’t focus on that many things at once. He was living proof that they were wrong.

This man who went by the handle “Axis” was the Director of Information Networking for the HDO in everything but name. He handled delegating responsibilities and designing the infrastructure of everything in the department, as well as personally taking on the most important cases. He did not, however, trust anyone else in the organization with his real identity. Hell, he had arranged things so that he didn’t have to leave his apartment more than a few times a month. No one in the organization knew about him in any capacity, save for one ignorant soul.

-

Crystal Maureen sat in her office playing a game of Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook. This was a typical day for her, pretending to be working as the Director of Information Networking. A few years ago, she had been a waitress at a Denny’s in North Dakota. Then, one night, she got a phone call from a man who called himself Axis. Made her a deal. Told her that she was the perfect candidate for the job. She had majored in communications, had a background in amateur theatre, had a high tolerance for repetitive tasks, had a nice voice and an attractive body… Told her all she had to do was parrot everything he told her to say, go where he said to go, do whatever he said to do and she’d be rich. Eight to ten hour days, most of the time spent pretending to work. She was free to live the rest of her life however she wanted to, as long as she pretended not to know anyone from work if she saw them on the street. And, of course, she accepted.

It didn’t take long for her to realize how big of a mistake it was. She learned some things she’d rather not know. She’d—on occasion—tried to act against his orders. It didn’t take her long to realize that this was an even bigger mistake. He broke her down as a person, piece by piece, until she just sort of accepted that this was the way things were now. This was her life. She had to play the part of “Director Crystal Maureen” and then she could go home to her big house and drink away her troubles. Worse still, her resentment towards him had gone full circle. She hated him, but she also felt like he was the only person in the world she could trust. An omnipresent voice that was always there to get her out of trouble. She couldn’t forgive him for the things he had done, to other people or to herself, but she had honestly started to become desensitized to all of it. Even the the countless times she had been forced to issue an order to kill someone and the blindfold hotel incident no longer made her break down in tears. The fact that doing things so horrible didn’t really phase her anymore felt more horrible to her than the actions themselves did at this point.

Crystal felt like Axis’ puppet, and she was. A tool to manipulate other people and protect his identity. Nothing more.

But for now, she simply aligned the colored blocks on the screen and waited. Waited for her next order.

"Then what exactly do you want me to do? Also have the mundanes found out about it yet?" Marc asked wondering if he was going to have to clean up again. It wouldn't be the first time he'd taken steps to insure the public was kept in the dark. He also had asked wondering exactly why he had been called in from the field if it was a non-earth side threat.

Kendal continues to be mesmerized by a sphere.....

~SE++

"We cannot be certain of anything regarding the creature's intent or capabilities and so far we have not discovered a means of contacting it. As for those newest recruits, those who are willing and able will likely be sent in. They should know nothing, but they have the same clearance on this matter as you do Sidis, assuming again they are willing. As for where you will be going, you will be told where when you go. For the rest of today, you will be staying here. Tomorrow, you and any others will be sent to a private military academy."

She turned to Marc.

"Humanity is blissfully unaware for the most part. Class A Information Suppression is active. Outside of a few currently detained individuals, everyone aware of the problem has the necessary security clearance or will be dealt with shortly."

As her eyes swept back across the room from Marc, Wilson noticed they lingered slightly longer on Sidis. Just her luck to be the representative of those who would be dealt with shortly. She seemed willing enough, though, so the graver part of that statement might only refer to those others they would need to convince. The Director continued after her gaze returned to Marc.

"You have demonstrated the necessary skills and luck necessary to survive encounters with the bizarre and deadly. The mortality rate for field agents is not a pleasant number, but here you sit defiantly. For that reason, you have been selected, along with James here, to be responsible for the training of our new recruits. We have little time and they need all of it with the best. Also, you will primarily travel and guard with them as they complete their missions. We can't have them fleeing in the face of danger or be killed by chaotic chance."

She paused and smiled.

"I'm also leaving it up to you two to convince them. I'd ask that you try not to scare or baby them too much. I have firm faith in you gentlemen in dealing with them."

Her gaze wandered to Vance and she said, "Would you mind keeping your eye on Sidis here until the boys are done recruiting? I'd let you supervise, but you might just kill everyone who disagrees with you."

“Now now, Elle, you know I’d never kill someone without a good reason—especially not someone that valuable.”

Vance grinned and pulled out his phone, quickly writing up a response to an email that he’d receive in a few seconds. He liked to try to imagine the look on their face when the reply arrived a millisecond before the original message was sent.

“Sidis is in good hands. I’ve got a lot of questions for Carlis’ little pet project and a lot of answers she might be interested in.”

"Thank you ma'm. He sighed wondering how green the newbies would be. He would rather be out in the field than anything,but he was given a mission and he would follow it to the best of his ability

Jade was having a frustrating day. If her father had made any mistake in his tenure as the chief of the science department, it was in allowing William to get hired. William had single-handedly cost her department hundreds of thousands of dollars with his simple mistakes and social blunders, even if he hadn’t realized it. If firing him was an option, she would have done so a long time ago, but former employees of the HDO had a tendency to vanish and even if Jade disliked him, she hardly wanted him dead.

His latest blunder was in declassifying that the HDO was looking for people with supernatural abilities to a very cold—but otherwise normal—person. Standard procedure was to tell them nothing until the results came in so that an excuse could be provided. William was too chatty to follow standard procedure.

Jade grabbed a lab coat and a clipboard with some random forms on it from one of the labs. What was on the papers was irrelevant; all that mattered was the air of legitimacy that the clipboard lent her. She approached the room that Jonathan was being held in and took a deep breath to compose herself, then burst into the room dramatically.

“You little s***.”

Jade slammed the door behind her. She had disabled surveillance in the room to prevent any of the other directors from knowing about her conversation. She doubted that Jonathan would be a problem, but she wanted to establish that she was in control to decrease the chance of him trying anything funny while the cameras were off.

“I don’t know why you followed your little friend… I don’t know why you pretended to be affected by the orb… but you’ve managed to f*** things up for the both of us.”

Jade paced as she talked, maintaining uncomfortably severe eye contact with Jonathan as she spoke. She wasn’t quite as angry as she was acting, but exaggeration got the point across better.

“You’ve been exposed to highly classified information. Someone—”

She put emphasis on the word and exhaled through her nostrils.

“—someone told you about something that we don’t want declassified. We’ve been left with three options.”

She paused.

“The most likely one is that the organization will have you killed. I’d like to avoid that if possible and I assume that feeling is mutual.”

She let that sink in for a second.

“The second option is to detain you for most—if not all—of your life. Again though, it’s likely that someone who isn’t as compassionate as me will have you killed when I’m not looking.”

She briefly lets him consider how heartless the rest of the organization must be if she's "compassionate".

“The third option is that we hire you. If you work for us, it doesn’t matter that you know too much. No one in the organization will want you dead if you're one of us.”

She smiles slightly. That wasn't completely true—there would probably always be people who wanted him dead—but the number would be much, much lower.

“But that’s contingent on you actually being useful. Tell me, Jonathan, what are you good at?”

"What? You mean he was being se—" Before finishing his question, Jonathan recalled an incident where he debunked Santa Claus to a group of preschoolers, and thought better of telling these lunatics how insane they were. Being long since exhausted of fear, he took a long breath before formulating a response, trying to drown his natural disposition towards cynicism with the tense air.

"...how about an option four, where I wake up from this nightmare and decide to go easy on the antidepressants for a while?" If the 'sting' from earlier wasn't enough proof, not to mention the feeling or lack thereof of everything everywhere being numb, he was also a regular lucid dreamer to the point of being assured that this was no dream. However, the proposition of joining Miss Menses and her band of misfits in chasing unicorns wasn't readily appealing. He shortly contemplated whether death threats were their usual form of recruitment, or if they actually utilized more humane methods under normal circumstances. Given their supposed line of works, the former somehow seemed more likely.