Clink. Porcelain meets plate once again.
The black coffee, now cold rests uneasily on the plate. His train once delayed for 15:37 is now delayed due to a Wanderfield having wandered onto its track.
Checking with watch, his movement coupled with a weary sigh, he checks the time now. 17:10. The chatter of the cafe around him, now quieter than before, still hums pleasantly into his ears. Outside, the street is now slick and grey, coated in the light drizzle that Varkos' climate always seems to wear like a uniform.
Elias lowers his arm back down to his lap, adjusting himself ever so slightly due to the discomfort of having sat so long at the cafe.
Beep.
A message appears on his watch's screen, slightly obstructed by the cracked glass on the edge.
"Reactivation Order: Observation Division."
He blinks, the world slows. A year of silence. A single year since the last time that name appeared. The voice that follows is as calm as ever, laced with a note of knowing amusement.
"You still take your coffee black, Elias?"
Seraphine's voice hums through the auditory implant behind his ear, soft, distant, yet unmistakeably her.
"Administrator," Elias murmurs, adjusting his voice below the social norm. The old title tasting a bit unfamiliar. "Didn't think I'd hear from you again."
"Nor did I," she replies, sounding slightly prideful behind her electronic audio. "But times change. So do people. Director Samir has reactived the Division. There are... signs."
He raises an eyebrow. "Signs?"
"Classified. You'll receive the briefing when you arrive, the train departs in 23 minutes. Platform nine." She's back to that monotone attitude. Elias recognises that she likely doesn't have a backup prepared for if he misses that time-frame.
Swiping up on his watch to check the train scheduling, his train was still delayed for another 30 minutes. Maybe that was the backup. However, a new schedule has appeared. 'Carriage 444 is arriving on Platform 9 in 22minutes'. The order has changed his schedule; just like old times.
He exhales through his nose, a low breath of reluctant nostalgia, and folds the newspaper under his arm. The headline still reads 'Another village goes quiet in the dead of night. Authorities are just as silent.'**
As he steps into the rain, the faint hum of Seraphine's humming tone follows him through the static of his implant, a quiet tune from a forgotten era, back when the Observation Division still had a purpose, back when Babel still stood.
As he walks towards the station, the streetlights flicker, one by one, trailing behind him like a fading memory. The sight of which causes some keenful onlookers to watch in confusion.
The station's platforms was half deserted by the time Elias arrived, most of the waiting passengers sitting inside the station's main building, avoiding the chill that trails the rain which whispered across the glass and steel canopy above each platform. Signs flickered with delay notices, but Platform Nine glowed steady.
The Train waiting there wasn't the kind used for passengers, its carriages were matte-black and plated with reinforced alloys. It held no company insignia, nor did it have any destinations listed on the platform sign. All it had was a single identification stencil burned into the side 'Militant Personnel Transport'.
A uniformed guard at the entrance to the platform gave a brief nod, no words, no questions; only a gesture to board.
Elias stepped inside.
The air smelled faintly of metal and recycled air. The lights are fixed white with little thought of comfort to the eyes. Seats lined either side of each of the three carriages, each as similar as the one he passed prior until he reaches the first carriage which seemed to have working heating. Ignoring the obvious mis-maintained state of the militant train, he takes a window seat at the front of the first carriage, sitting opposite to the direction the train will travel.
Outside, the continuous rain traced erratic lines across the angled roofs above each platform, the sound of the downpour eventually being drowned out by the hum of the engine stirring at the front.
"You're punctual." Seraphine's voice, now oddly pleased, hummed softly through his ear implant.
"You made sure of it." Elias replies measuredly, though Seraphine could see through an onboard CCTV that he's smirking.
"Would you have come if i hadn't?"
He crossed his arms. He didn't answer, the silence that followed said enough.
The train gently lurched forwards, slowly at first, then steady. The skyline of buildings receded, swallowed by fog and plains. Beyond it, stretched a line of tracks trailing the direction the train has came from.
Hours passed in the quiet rhythm of the tracks. Occasionally, the train stopped at smaller, lonelier stations. The doors would hiss open and each time a boot would clag on metal, alerting Elias of a new presence. At the first stop came Voss, his coat drenched heavy with rainfall and his left eye replaced with an old, mechanical lens.
Then came Haru, expression distant, her wristband flickering constantly with news reports, catching up with things happening around the nation.
Later, a group of new recruits, each one barely in their twenties, speaking in hushed tones and glancing with uncertain eyes. The spread themselves out between the three carriages, careful not to meet the gaze of the older operatives.
The veterans themselves didn't speak much. They didn't need to. The train carried its own language after all, the soft groan of the mechanical couplers, the sound of the wheels riding over the temperature reactive train tracks and the rhythm of motion that could set a person asleep. This language was shortly rushed as the train seems to suddenly accelerate.
Elias glances through the window. Outside, the plains grew stranger as the night deepened. Patches of static light shimmered in the air, bending and fading like a heat haze, regardless of the fact the temperature outside was cold enough to mist the glass.
Elias frowned. "...Wanderfields?"
"They're the ones causing all these disruptions and delays recently." Elias turned to Haru, not expecting her to have spoken. Her retinas glow slightly as she stares at the Wanderfield through the misted glass, "I've always hated them, always makes me late for work."
"You had a job after the purge?" Elias questioned,
"Had." She responded, "Until this reactivation order came ."
Elias couldn't bring himself to question further, the deactivation had affected their lives massively, and so did the reactivation that followed a year later.
The rest of the ride passed in near silence. The recruits eventually ended up falling asleep; the veterans didn't. They stared out of the window, watching distant the occasionally minor Wanderfield pass by, feeling the train speed up and slow down as precaution around them.
When dawn began to finally bleed its pale light into the clouds, the train slowed. Ahead, the silhouette of vast compound emerged. Towers of glass and gunmetal shaded alloys rising from the horizon. Csilla, the Capital of Varkos.
The location of their Headquarters.
A voice crackled over the train's carriage speakers:
"Observation Division personnel, your arrival is in five minutes. The Council welcomes you back into service."
Elias got up from his seating, the newspaper still folded under his arm, its headline faintly visible through the creases.
'Another village goes quiet in the dead of night. Authorities are just as silent.'
Somewhere above, the stormline was beginning to shift again. The train slowed with a hiss of steam and the generic, metallic groan. The pneumatic clicking from the brakes fade as the wheels skid to a halt, replaced by the sound of the train's turbine engine idling.
Through the misted window, Elias could make out figures waiting on the platform, as well as make out the sound of a convoy of vehicles, engines running low, just outside the station's walls.
Taking the apparent lead, Elias exits the carriage, followed shortly by Voss and Haru. The recruits leave through separate doors from their respective carriages.
A voice barks with respectful authority as soon as everyone is outside, "Observation Duty Personnel," Everyone turns to see a man in uniform stand with armed guards on either side of him. The man salutes, as do they in turn. "You'll be transferred the rest of the way by convoy. Stay together, please."
Elias nods in confirmation, still holding the newspaper in his coat. The others followed with quiet procession, boots rhythmically echoing against the platform's soaked concrete. The recruits moved with awkward stiffness; the veterans moved with weary precision.
The fog here was gentler than it was at the village, But beyond the station's lights, the plains were still just an ocean of grey air.
Another man in an officer's coat approached, tall, clean shaven, and his collar marked with a gold insignia of the Varkos' Central Command. He saluted Elias with a single motion, one which he also returns.
"Director Samir sends his regards," the officer said. "Each of your equipment..." he glances at the new recruits, "Minus the rookies who don't have any, have been forward to headquarters. We're under orders to deliver you directly, no stops."
Elias gave a quick nod, "Still running things by the clock I see."
The officer didn't respond, just gave a grin and gestured to the waiting convoy outside the doors. Voss walks ahead of everyone holding his still damp coat in his arms, followed after by Elias and the rest.
The vehicles were low profile, sleek, angular, stripped of any recognisable insignia nor branding. They were efficient.
They boarded silently, the veterans still choosing to sit together, the recruits still randomly shuffled between available seating. As the jeeps slowly rolled out from the temporary parking spots, Elias notices Voss shivering slightly, the damp coat must've let some water through. He's been cold all night likely.
The city roads were narrow but rather empty at this early hour. Streetlights still lit, the night still bipolar, unsure whether to be lit by the sun or by the moon's reflection.
After an hour of driving, Voss was no longer shivering, instead he was leaning partially out of the window. "It's been a while since I last came here." He muttered.
"Same as us all," Haru responds, "No reason to really live in the capital unless you're blinded by tourist reviews."
Elias stays silent, focused on the environment around him as the cars drive into an underground garage. Silence quickly returns inside the car, broken only by rolling rubber as the driver struggles with parallel parking.-- The Observation Division's Headquarters --
Their destination rose like a monolith among the skyline: the Council Spire, the home of Varkos' executive authority. Its mirrored panels climbed into the clouds, and at its base, a cordon of armed personnel and scanners shimmered faintly in the drizzle.
No one spoke as the convoy entered the restricted lane, turning away from the main road. A gate scanned their vehicles and a cold, mechanical voice broke the silence.
"Clearance: Central Command. Access Granted."
The jeeps rolled forward into a ramp that spiralled downwards beneath the structure. The rumble of a city waking above them dimed as they descended, replaced by the hum of heavy machinery and vehicle engines. The walls turned from polished concrete to reinforced alloy; lights flickered in liens along the ceiling's descent, marking their path deeper underground.
After several minutes, the tunnel widened into an underground parking bay, vast enough to fit an armoured regiment. The space was immaculate, white lights glinting off oil-slicked floors, rows of sealed doors leading to internal checkpoints. A few personnel were present, most moving quietly, heads slightly down as though the vary act of looking too long might distract them from their thoughts.
The vehicles came to a stop beside a line of matte transport lifts, each big enough to carry a couple quadbikes.
The officer from the front jeep, the one the three Veterans are sat in, stepped out, his voice steady.
"End of the line. The Director's waiting below."
Elias opened his door, the stale recycled air of the underground hitting him with the faint tang of metallic ozone. He looped up toward the distant ceiling where an air ventilator seems to be doing its job; badly.
The recruits exited from their vehicles last, eyes wide at the fact they're under the Spire. Their boots echoed as they followed the Veterans to the elevators like lost ducklings. As Elias pressed the call button for an elevator, he realises something. The recruits likely don't know how to enter the Headquarters.
Turning to Voss and Haru, he tells them to take separate elevators with the recruits so they can all reach the Headquarters together. Both adhere to the instruction.
The three of them split up, each splitting the recruits between them to take separate elevators. As they all enter inside, the doors quickly close and Seraphine's voice is heard yet again.
"Welcome home, operators. Welcome to the depths of the Council's mind."
The lift's floor count fades to pure black as the elevators lurch by themselves, the veterans didn't even need to do anything, Seraphine was in control.
The wait felt longer than it should have. The hum of the elevator deepened as if the air itself was thickening the further the elevator travelled. The recruits shifted uneasily between themselves, watching the display screen remain black. The veterans remained silent.
Eventually, the motion stopped. The doors parted with a hydraulic whine, letting the cool air flow in and mix with the stale air inside the elevator. The light that met them outside was not bright, but the shadows weren't black either.
Elias stepped out first, the recruits hesitated for a moment, as if forgetting their own free will existed.
They had arrived.
The Observation Division's Headquarters stretched out before them, contained behind a single security door; left open. Beyond said door, was wide corridors that arched with reinforced plating, visible cables ran along the ceiling like veins, the Division's logs plastered on every pillar. Faint patterns of old Babelian architecture was projected onto wall screen displays.
Other technicians and fellow operators moved quietly within the central chamber, their voices low, almost clear, these walls tend to carry sound quite easily. Holographic screens hovered above the central console, flickering with Seraphine's chaotic form. Below her, stood Director Samir.
Elias moved through the entry corridor, leaving everyone past the security door and into the main corridor, their boots echoed softly on the hexagonal flooring. The recruits began whispering amongst themselves, glancing around in awe at the design of the Division's headquarters, Voss and Haru were too, reminiscing of past memories. Elias however, was eyes locked onto Samir.
As the group entered the Operations Chamber, surrounded on all sides by Operators and technicians sat on half empty desks, Samir turned. For a moment, the hum of the consoles quietened beneath his gaze. His uniform was immaculate, though the edges of his sleeves seemed to be recently charred, the kind typically associated with when one messes with loose wiring.
The silver badge of Directorate was hung loosely on his chest, a little out of place, a little rushed to be put on.
"Elias," Samir said at last, voice carrying across the chamber with a mixture of relief and leisure. "It's been a while."
Elias gave a small nod. "Quite, sir."
"Quite too long."
Samir's gaze swept over the gathered group, a mix of three weathered faces and almost a dozen bright yet uncertain ones. "I wasn't expecting you to return so easily, did Seraphine pull any dirty tricks?"
Seraphine's model distorted slightly, perhaps she could feel insulted after all.
A faint ripple of muted chuckles bounced from some of the veterans already seated at their desks. The recruits didn't dare laugh along.
"Director." Seraphine said sternly, "Should I begin the visual brief?"
"Not yet." Samir took a step closer to the group, placing his hands on the railing that separated him from what would be a few steps fall. "You're all here for one reason, something survived, and it isn't us."
That sentence hung heavy in the air. Even the maintenance drones above seemed to still for a moment.
Samir gestured to Seraphine's hologram as she gets replaced by a visualisation of audio-data.
["Hello, Architect." ]
["You should be gone, Legionnaire."]
"Somehow, we've picked up on this audio. However we did isn't exactly known. Even Seraphine is stumped. But due to it, we have suspicions that an.. a survivor.. is still out there."
The recruits exchanged uncertain looks. The veterans did not.
Elias however, subconsciously tightened his jaw. "You're saying-"
"I'm saying an Architect might still be out there," Samir interrupted quietly. "Or something that believes it is."
The lights dimmed slightly as Seraphine's form returned, drifting downwards just above Samir. "It isn't the first time the dead have tried to speak."
Elias glared at her projection. "And the council?"
"They want confirmation before the Dominion or the Accord find it," Samir said flatly. "They've reactivated the Division for one purpose and one purpose only, which is to intercept whatever sent us this signal in the form of this audio."
He looked into each of them in turn, his eyes finally settling back on Elias.
"You've all been brought back to watch the world. It's best if you all get settled in now."
"Welcome back Operators..." Seraphine murmured.
With a following moment of awkward silence, the meeting before Samir dissolved slowly. Technicians began taking some of the recruits away for an orientation briefing in separate rooms away from the central chamber. Only Elias, Haru and Voss lingered, still held under gaze by Samir.
Samir turned to face the holo-table once more, the light from its fading grid casting a gentle hue across his face. He gestured for them to come up and join him.
Voss leaned forwards on the console, hands flat on the screen, matching the imprints that he left almost a year ago. Haru remained a step behind, arms crossed as we watches Seraphine's projection flicker into a retreat.
"Twelve years, silent for a one." Voss muttered. "Breathing for another because of a ghost."
Elias didn't turn to face him. "Not a ghost, a mere signal. That's what Director Samir said."
"Please," Samir spoke softly. "We are all quite familiar with each other, the three of you may just refer to me as 'Samir'."
The three turn to face him with a gentle shock. Voss turned back down to the console before pushing himself off. "Do you think it's one of them? An Architect that survived?"
Elias's eyes flicked towards the central console. "I think someone wants us to believe that."
A flicker. Seraphine's projection distorted almost as if affirmation.
"The Division was built to observe," Her voice interjected softly from the overhead speakers. "but observation doesn't guarantee truth. So be careful of what you decide to see."
Haru exhaled sharply through her nose. "Still cryptic I see..."
"It's part of my charm."
Her projection ghosted briefly as she switches to a holo-wall screen, her dimensions being altered to match the 2Dimensional space. It doesn't take a veteran to know she's clearly happy, but it does take a veteran to know why.
Voss glances around the chamber. "You notice how half the terminals are still cold? They didn't reactivate everything."
"They never do," Elias said. He turned back to the railing, the faint fatigue in his voice cutting through the metallic calm. "The Council doesn't bring back departments nor divisions unless they're useful again. When they're done they'll put us back under again."
The movement of Seraphine's form stepping between Holo-wall screens catches his eyes.
"Then again, I guess this operational capability is enough for us as well."
Haru's gaze softened as her eyes followed Seraphine. "We all did come back anyway."
Samir walks up in the middle of them, catching their attention. "Someone has to make sure they don't make the same mistakes we did. Rest up you three, Seraphine told me you didn't sleep throughout the train ride."
Voss chuckled as he starts to walk past Samir. "So we're mentors now? Great, maybe the next generation can inherit our mess."
Elias's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Or maybe that's the idea." He says as he followed after him.