Chapter One

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~August 19th, 1954~

"Operative Phenex, reporting for duty."

His words reverberated around the semi-spherical chamber, echoing between the four levels that separated the dais he stood on from the apex, and toward the three tiers where the council took up residence. The lowermost tier—that of the Third Echelon—was the only one occupied, the Second and First curiously absent, leaving the chiselled box seats and gilded thrones they usually occupied dull by comparison.

Moonstone glinted on all sides, making up the vast majority of the chamber's composition, the curved walls reflecting the glow of the globular chunk of amethyst at the ceiling's apex in a kaleidoscope of lavender and dusky pink, where sunstone ringed it.

Casting a surreptitious glance around the dais, where Terran, commander of the Regulations Force's First Unit stood with a handful of high-ranking operatives, Phenex rose from his single-knee bow. As an operative of the same unit—though registered as special ops, allowing him privileges the other operatives weren't privy to—he was still subject to disciplinary action from the unit's commander.

And given his latest (and explosive) actions of late, reproach was something he'd expected the moment he'd received the council's summons.

To his surprise, Terran didn't appear the least bit angry. Thin, white eyebrows were contracted in worry, the usual bright green of his eyes dim as he gestured toward the strategy table, where an ethereal construct of some earthen city or other was projected. The soft, violet glow of the projection brought the two, jagged scars on Terran's left cheek into sharp relief, luminous white against his deep brown complexion.

"I apologize for having you summoned so soon after your last mission," he began, fingers tapping the keys of the console port before him, "but given the circumstances, we couldn't afford to call in anyone else."

Phenex strode forward, eyeing the image with wary interest. "What am I looking at, here?"

"New Orleans. There have been some...goings-on, particularly surrounding one of the cemeteries there; a prestigious lot where only the oldest, wealthiest of the families find their final resting place. But New Orleans isn't the only place that's been recently flagged." Terran tapped several more keys, banishing the image to bring up a world-wide map. "Cities across the globe have come under investigation, from municipalities to mega cities. Missing person reports, random acts of violence, unexplained phenomena...it's happening all over."

Phenex narrowed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest with a barely contained snort. "How is this different from any other time?" he asked. "You know as well as I do that humans are a violent bunch. Gangland killings and robberies are nothing new."

"It goes beyond the typical level of violence we've come to expect in overly-populated human settlements."

Artemis descended the steps leading down from the third tier, the ruff of her white blouse poking out above a burgundy waistcoat trimmed with gold. Knee-high boots clicked with each step, her faded jeans and wild, golden hair seeming out of place on a respected member of the High Council.

"How so?" he asked her, inclining his head in a show of respect, though it was more to conceal the smirk that had begun tugging at the corners of his mouth. Millennia old, and still rebellious to the last. It was one of the things Phenex liked best about her. In spite of her station, she was still the same wild, huntress goddess she'd always been.

"Well, there have been the demon sightings, for one." She returned his smirk with one of her own, hazel eyes gleaming knowingly. Just as quickly the smile faded, her expression growing somber. "But more peculiar still are the killings. None on the council will deny the...imaginative tendencies of humanity's most brutal murderers." She made a face at this, indicating just what she thought of that particular brand of imagination. "But the evidence gathered by the Third Unit suggests something of a more feral nature."

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