ARCC doesn't have to take care of all the problems. Luckily for them, the nation's military was issued first into the area. There objective was to clear out the locals and evacuate the area. After evacuation, they'd stay around and monitor the sea beast.
A situation occuring such as this isn't rare. For the past couple of months things have happened and together, the government and ARCC, are working in a joint-agreement to leave behind the past and pour their resources into finding and extinguishing the source of the problem. The government is tasked with military support, helping out the public and making way for the real experts—ARCC is the experts—to gather information and device a plan for both parties to implement—in said problem solving.
Now, it's just become regular work for the two parties. The risks of their previous encounterw were low, but this here...this has to be somewhere above.
When ARCC reached the town, the place was already deserted, no men, women, and children in the area. It was completely blank. It was the military, and now—ARCC.
Once ARCC got set up, they jumped right into work.
The team brought an extensive array of high-tech equipment and lerden with supplies. Erecting military-grade tents for shelter and research purposes, equipped with basic comforts and cutting-edge lab tools. For power, it was supplied by portable solar generators and backup fuel-powered units to operate essential equipment like sonar scanners and underwater drones. And surveillance drones deployed to monitor both the air and the sea while capturing live-feed footage—to help track any unusual activity beneath the waves.
In addition to advanced scientific gear, ARCC brings specialized oceanic equipment like deep-water sonar systems, bio-sample collection tools, and 3D imaging devices for analyzing marine life and ancient fossils. Secure communication systems ensure that their operations remain hidden, while encrypted satellite devices keep them in contact.
There is also Nighttime operations, if things do take that long, with the team using infrared and sonar for tracking sea creatures. Laptops, computers, and screens that ongoing for the hour-to-hour long investigation.
While the experts did their job, Ben sat at somewhere away from the set-up. He didn't know what do with the tents, and tech stuff, he is a soldier meant to take on the hardworking. He wants time alone; time to breath. To make it worth the wait, his hands patted a head that was covered in fur, with furry ears, and a sloppy tongue that was sticking out.
It was a dog. Not just a dog-dog, but a familiar friend.
Ben spoke, his voice a blend of happiness and familiarity though low amd weak, "It's nice to see you again buddy. It's been too long. Never would I ever think that we'll meet again."
Male retriever, five years old, his name is Sol. Like the sun with his bright golden fur. Sol doesn't belong to Ben, but his owner is around, and Ben just so happen to know the owner; that's how they got acquainted. Ben became Sol's next best friend (someone that at least gets him).
It was sometime ago that Ben got together with the owner and spend time with Sol. Reunited once again, Ben puts a smile on his face and keeps on patting his head and scratches on his neck. Sol—a dog he is—has only his tongue poking out of his mouth as he sit stills, enjoying the free pats and scratches.
"So this is where you are?" Then a voice called out.
Sol recognised it and stood on all four, turning right to see that person. His stance wasn't aggressive. Calmly he looked with a relaxed expression.
Ben did so too. He turned to see who this person was.
It was the owner. Female.
"When your ready will be waiting for you," The female owner said.
That was his que. Standing up, Ben spoke towards Sol, "Well sol, it's about time, let's go. We don't want them waiting," and in response Sol barked once. Ben walked and he followed.
~~~~~~
Ben met up with the owner. And the owner, known as Clementia, was in a hearing—a hearing coming from the director. The director just gave words of encouragement and information regarding their mission; everything was said back at HQ during the briefing, so not much is said.
"Hey Ben, have this," Clementia tugged Ben by the fabric of his suit and handed him a ribbon. "You should tie your hair, it's getting too long for you."
Ben's black hair IS long. Reaching all the way to his neck, loosely unkept. He hasn't cut his in a long time. His hair, this hair, he has been growing it since childhood. But he does agree with Clementia. With his mission on the line, those strands of hair might interfere with his eyes, which has already gotten into full effect years before, but never got the time to cut it. All other time, it's work, work, work.
Tying it around into a bun will remove the hinderens.
"I'll tie," Ben said and tied his hair. Well not all of it; few strands are left on his forehead like bangs.
When the hearing came to an end, the director pointed, directed to Ben. The people who were in groves cleared the way and stood on the sides.
A path lined up for Ben.
Sol stood beside to Clementia a bit worried—the dog made squeaky noises. Clementia calmed him, "Sol it's alright, he'll be fine," and she watched him proceed to walk on this path.
At the end of that path was the director, "You ready?" He asked. Ben nodded.
The director slided to the side and Ben entered the Box. An enclosed iron cage used for divers when going underwater (in dangerous waters). I'm sure you've seen it on an exploration channel on TV—where the divers risk it for their entertainment or research— putting their life on the line. Most of which are sharks.
But it's no ordinary cage.
This cage they call the Box is designed especially for this type of situations.
Jet black all over and made of the toughest metals—titanium—the box is a beast for close encounters and observation. It also has a compartment suited for a single person enter.
Tfff—the safety metal blockers retracted.
Ben fitted himself inside in a standing position (but not until he wore a gas mask with a tube connected within the compartment) and the metal blockers surrounded him finally. Likely imprisoned (no). A small window up to his head is framed so he does have a view.
The director quoted: "We don't know why the Myfecta type 2 is causing havoc. Our scans can't even pick up details as to why this is. So it is why, we will use the box and as Ben as the man for the job, he will be sent to investigate what is the problem....keep in mind that their skin is impenetrable and has the ability it's body unscannable....."
Ben was the only one for this job.
Then the noise of a helicopter flew through the air and came to a stop, hovered, and lowered a metal cable. Attached to helicopter and box, the helicopter will carry it to the destination.
Tight and secure, the helicopter increased power and lifted the box, Ben with it.
Schhrrrzz—sounds from the hinges of the cable to the box echoed, screeching while the helicopter flew at a slow pace. The weight of the box swinged through the air, slightly tilting back-and-forth....ultimately there was no pending doom. Just how it is.
Once at the target for the drop, one last thing remained: a beeping device.
Set right below the landing drop where the helicopter is at, and right exactly where the box will be unattached from the cable.
Oh and remember when I said that Ben will have to investigate the sea serpent at close range, I haven't been truthful. That doesn't mean I've told a liar...I just didn't tell the whole story.
The director's second quote: "—that is why the Box along with Ben will be devoured by the Myfecta. The answers for our questions will relie on the findings inside the Myfecta."
Myfecta Type-2 was on its way, and fast like a speeding car.
"Sir, we've detected the Myfecta," a man backed from the computer and said to the Director.
"Keep a lock on it and wait for the right moment," the Director instructed.
Attracted by the same technology used at the base to lure a Mynorgier, the Myfecta was quick to react to the signals, and in an instant, the Myfecta sprang up from the water and delivered an impressive jump. Very long, reaching the helicopter.
"Now!" The Director shouted.
Then—pfwhooo—the Box unattached from the helicopter. The helicopter increased lift again to avoid the Myfecta's catch.
But the Box—snapped. Already in its mouth, and shut, the Myfecta fell back to the water in one big splash. Fffssssshhhhhhhh.
Back to the tents, the director watched the Box be devoured.
"We're counting on you Ben...." he said with a crapshoot tone.