This room likely belonged to someone high up in the mafia. A plush sofa and an imposing desk—probably expensive—dominated the space. Through the visor's night vision, Axel couldn't be certain of their quality, but they screamed wealth. The painting on the wall? He couldn't tell if it was genuine or a fake, though he'd bet ten-to-one it was a forgery. Why? Because a hidden safe was embedded in the wall behind it. No one would hang a masterpiece where it'd get touched every time they accessed a safe.
First the Special Brain Institute's director, now this place, Axel thought. Is embedding safes in walls some kind of trend?
He removed the painting and used his slime to slice through the wall with precision, cutting so cleanly that it could be repositioned without anyone noticing—at least not at a glance. If someone touched it, they might figure it out, but that was a race against time he'd leave to Vindel.
Axel opened the safe and began recording the documents inside with his visor's video function: ledgers detailing dealings with Albert Grey, contracts for weapons trades, even papers for PT and AM transactions. There were bonds and stock certificates too, which he recorded for good measure.
A few minutes later, he returned the documents to the safe, reattached the wall panel, and hung the painting back up. Camouflage complete. Next up: the computer.
To be safe, he unplugged the network cable before booting it up. The last thing he needed was an automatic connection alerting someone to his presence. From his spatial storage, he pulled a disk loaded with a hacking tool crafted by the tech team—not Lemon's work, for once. It ensured no logs of his actions would remain on the computer.
The OS prompted for a password, but the tool bypassed it automatically. Once the screen flashed "Operation Ready," Axel swapped the hacking disk for a data storage disk and began copying the computer's entire contents.
A whole computer's data on one disk? Axel mused. Either the computer's capacity is tiny, or this disk's performance is insane.
"Copy's gonna take about thirty minutes," he noted.
With nothing else to do, he decided to poke around the computer. It was a work machine, so no games or fun distractions, as expected. "Nothing interesting here… Oh, how about emails?"
On a whim, he opened the email client and skimmed the inbox titles, opening anything that looked promising. Most were about Albert Grey's "requests"—or rather, orders. They included tasks like trashing a shop's reputation or heckling at a rival politician's rally. A string of dirty jobs lined up in the inbox.
Wait a second, Axel thought, his eyes narrowing. I got this wrong. This mafia wasn't partnering with Albert Grey—they were his personal errand boys, set up to handle his dirty work.
As he scrolled through the emails, one caught his eye: an order to kill a specific individual. Such orders weren't uncommon in the inbox, but the target's name stopped him cold—Rom Montoya.
Raji had said Dr. Montoya died in an accident, a driving mishap that sent his car into the sea. That's what Raji believed, at least.
"Assassination?" Axel muttered.
Why? Axel's knowledge of the original timeline told him the Timeflow Engine's significance was monumental, but to most people in this era, Dr. Montoya wasn't a big enough threat to warrant murder. Unless…
"Hold on," he said to himself. The Timeflow Engine—a potential perpetual motion machine. This mafia dealt in black-market PTs and AMs. If someone like Albert Grey learned about a scientist developing such a game-changer, he might see it as a threat to his profits. If Dr. Montoya refused to play ball, a guy like Grey wouldn't hesitate to take drastic measures.
"I need to talk to Vindel," Axel decided.
A soft beep snapped him back to reality. The monitor displayed "Copy Complete." He'd been lost in thought longer than he realized. Storing the data disk in his spatial storage, he double-checked the room for any signs of his presence, then slipped out. Using the slime to scout his surroundings, he escaped the office undetected.
Back at Langley Base, Axel handed Vindel two disks. "Here's the computer data. The other disk has footage of the ledgers and other documents."
"Good work," Vindel said, taking the disks and immediately loading them into his computer.
"You'll see when you look at the data," Axel said, "but this mafia isn't just working with Albert Grey. I'm pretty sure he set them up to handle his dirty work."
"Is that so?" Vindel asked, his tone sharp.
"There's more. Check the emails."
Vindel pulled up the email list at Axel's prompting. "The one near the top—yeah, that one. Read it."
It was the order to assassinate Dr. Montoya. Even Vindel couldn't hide his shock, his eyes widening as he read.
"This is…"
"Albert Grey's a third-rate politician, right?" Axel said. "What do you think he'd do if he found out about the Timeflow Engine?"
Vindel's expression darkened. "Montoya's death was reported as an accident, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. Probably tampered with his car. And with his political clout, Grey could've hushed up the police."
"I see," Vindel said, falling silent for a moment. Then, with a sudden thud, he slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing his anger.
"Axel, about this—"
"Telling Raji and the others?" Axel cut him off. "Can't do it. No way."
He'd been the one to push Dr. Montoya toward building a humanoid weapon powered by the Timeflow Engine. That made him partly responsible for the man's death. Sure, the Excellence would've been built eventually, even without his interference, but the guilt gnawed at him nonetheless "
"I understand," Vindel said. "I'll make sure this evidence is used effectively. Grey won't get away with this."
"Thanks," Axel replied. "I'm no good at that political stuff. It's all yours."
They exchanged a nod, and as Axel turned to leave, Vindel called after him. "One more thing. I forgot to mention—the dedicated Shadow-Mirror base is nearly complete. About three months from now, we'll relocate there."
Axel vaguely recalled Vindel mentioning this when he first arrived. "Where is it?"
"Ecuador, South America."
Ecuador? Axel pictured the Amazon River and the Galapagos Islands—lush, natural places that didn't quite scream "special forces base." Tucked between Colombia and Peru, it was a small country, off the radar.
"Why such a remote spot?"
"That's exactly why," Vindel said. "A place no one pays attention to is perfect for a unit like Shadow-Mirror."
"Fair enough," Axel said, nodding. "Three months, got it. I'll prep. Not like the Special Operations team has much to pack besides our machines."
"True," Vindel agreed. "This base was always temporary. Too much baggage would've been a hassle."
"Speaking of baggage," Axel said with a grin, "Lemon's tech team might have a problem."
Vindel chuckled. "You're not wrong. Her lab alone is a logistical nightmare."
He wasn't kidding. Lemon, working on the W-Series, had a collection of human-sized cylinders—some with contents—that took up serious space. Vindel clearly knew about the W-Numbers, too.
"Oh, that reminds me," Vindel added. "Axel, you've got three days' leave starting tomorrow. Head to the Tesla Institute to see Lemon."
"Leave?" Axel blinked. "I'm not complaining, but why Tesla?"
"Lemon wants your input on the teleportation device."
"My input? She's the expert. I'm just an outsider."
"She specifically mentioned wanting the perspective of someone close to the Timeflow Engine researchers."
Close to the Timeflow Engine researchers, huh? Axel wondered if Lemon remembered his pitch about the similarities between teleportation and the Timeflow Engine when he'd suggested she join Tesla. Either way, he'd been curious about the institute, so it was a good opportunity.
"Got it. I leave tomorrow, stay one night, and come back?"
"That's the plan," Vindel confirmed.
And so, Axel's short "leave" to the Tesla Institute was set.