Project:Imagine

In the heart of the verdant countryside, nestled among rolling hills and vast orchards, lay the quaint town of Applecrest. Known for its expansive apple orchards, Applecrest was a small, peaceful town with crime rates so low that the police could go days without encountering a single issue. The town's charm was undeniable, cobblestone streets lined with cozy cottages, gardens bursting with vibrant flowers, and a central square dominated by an ancient, sprawling apple tree that locals claimed was as old as the town itself.

Children played in the streets, their laughter mingling with the sweet scent of blooming apple blossoms. Farmers tended to their crops, exchanging warm greetings with passersby. The air was filled with the hum of bees and the distant songs of birds. Despite this tranquility, two government agents had arrived in search of someone.

“Hey Markus, you never told me why we’re in this town,” Wallace said, clearly annoyed. “I don’t remember the Bookkeeper mentioning any awakened here. We’ve already gathered all the available ones this year, haven't we?”

Wallace stood about 5′ 6″ (1.68 m), his blonde hair a messy tangle above blue eyes shadowed by deep bags. His pale skin suggested he rarely ventured outside. A pair of black, square-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he wore a lab coat over his clothes. His overall appearance gave the impression he might fall asleep at any moment. Notably, he wore a white glove on his right hand.

“I got some special information from the Bookkeeper. Apparently, a very interesting awakened is in the area,” Markus sighed. “Of course, the bastard didn't tell me which house they’re in, only that we must collect them today.”

Markus, significantly taller at 6’ 2” (1.88 m), had slicked-back brown hair and a scar across the bridge of his nose. His blue eyes, unlike Wallace's, were full of energy. His caramel-colored skin contrasted with a black snake tattoo on his neck. He wore a black suit with a red tie. Notably, he wore a black glove on his right hand.

“How much did it cost you to get this kind of tip from that bastard?” Wallace asked.

“Normally, it would have cost an arm and a leg, quite literally. But he told me the debt was paid in advance. He didn’t say who paid it or why. Here's what he did tell me, the target's name is Iris Blackwell, her ability is unknown, and he wouldn't say more. It was 'too confidential', even for me,” Markus explained, frustration evident in his voice.

“What do you mean ‘too confidential’? That man sells any information for the right price, even knowledge about the end of the world, not like anyone could afford it. But he wouldn’t even offer a price for her ability?” Wallace said, confused.

“You're right, it doesn't make sense. There are too many mysteries with this mission. And odds are, he won’t sell us any information on her either. She’s around eleven years old, hasn’t unlocked her ability yet, and has pink hair and yellow eyes. One last thing: we have to find her before eight o’clock tonight,” Markus said, his expression serious.

“Why eight o'clock? What's so significant about that time?” Wallace questioned.

Markus paused, glancing around the picturesque town. A group of children ran past, chasing a dog, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the gravity of their mission. He lowered his voice, leaning closer to Wallace.

“She’s going to die at that time. If we don’t save her, she will die,” Markus said, clenching his fist in anger.

Wallace quickly glanced at his watch. The current time was 4 o’clock, leaving them only four hours. He began shaking Markus by the shoulders, yelling, “Why did we arrive so late then? She’s going to die! Shouldn't we have gotten here much earlier?”

“This was the time the Bookkeeper said to arrive. We must collect her at eight o’clock, the exact moment her family is killed, and she is about to die. That’s when we must save her and bring her back to A.E.G.I.S. The Bookkeeper always provides the best time to obtain the awakened. No matter the tragedies that befall them before those moments”, Markus said, maintaining his serious expression.

“I know. It wouldn’t even be the first time this week we had to collect a child whose family was just killed. Did he say the cause of death? Is it like the last one where their ability went out of control and they killed their family?” Wallace asked, his voice filled with pity.

“There are awakened in the area planning to kill her. Why or how they found out about her, I have no idea. This organization was also ‘too confidential’. To make matters worse, the boss didn’t clear us to use additional artifacts, so we’ll have to fight with standard equipment. The bastard wouldn’t even give us a barrier artifact, yet expects us to keep the public unaware of this whole ordeal,” Markus complained.

“What did you expect, dear brother? You’re the Reaper, A.E.G.I.S’s strongest weapon. Someone like you isn’t expected to make mistakes or ever lose,” Wallace said, mocking lightly.

“You’re right as always. After this mission, we better get a vacation. I'd like to head back to Las Vegas sometime,” Markus sighed.

“The school year to train the awakened students is about to start, so don’t expect a vacation soon. We both got forced to watch over the Alpha facility this year. Besides, you’re banned from every casino in Las Vegas, remember?” Wallace said.

The two brothers continued their chat while searching for their target. They navigated through the quaint streets, nodding to friendly locals who were unaware of the peril looming over their peaceful town. The warm afternoon sun cast long shadows as the day inched closer to evening.

Meanwhile, over in a dilapidated clock tower at the edge of town, three individuals had made it their base of operations. The clock tower had been abandoned for years, teetering on the verge of collapse, but its height provided a vantage point over the entire town. Inside, a small room had been set up with tables, chairs, and a whiteboard detailing their plan. A clock on the wall read 4:42. In three hours and eighteen minutes, Iris will die.

A woman with silver hair rushed into the clock tower, seeing the other two members seated. Her green eyes were filled with worry as she wore a blue dress and white gloves. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a few flickering candles that cast eerie shadows on the walls.

“Sir, I have bad news. Our members watching the town reported two members of A.E.G.I.S are in the area, likely here for the same target as us,” Lucia said, her voice trembling.

“Did they identify who they were?” Nikolai asked.

Nikolai stood about 5’ 11” (1.80 m), his hair a striking mixture of black and white. His lime-green eyes contrasted sharply with the x-shaped scar on his forehead. He wore a black suit and a locket around his neck.

A nervous look crossed Lucia’s face as she stammered, “O-our members identified them as the R-Reaper and the Saint.”

Horror flashed across the faces of both Nikolai and Scarlet. They instantly knew who their opponents were.

Scarlet, about 5’ 4” (1.64 m), had crimson hair braided neatly and calm red eyes. She wore a beautiful red dress that exposed her arms and back, adorned with a floral pattern. A bird tattoo was visible on her back, and she wore white lace gloves on her hands.

“Ooh, the Valentine brothers are here. It's been a while since I've seen those two. I’m especially excited to see Marky again,” Scarlet said in a flirtatious tone.

“I will be the one to fight Markus. Lucia is not fit for combat, and your fighting style is too extreme. You may accidentally destroy the veil we put up. Focus on killing the girl,” Nikolai said sternly.

“You’re always so mean to me. But fine, I doubt I could defeat Marky in a fight anyway. Even you might struggle, leader,” Scarlet said teasingly.

“I’m much stronger than the last time we fought. This will be fun,” Nikolai said, rubbing the scar on his forehead.

“Sir, what about the Saint? W-while the Reaper is the strongest in terms of pure power, the Saint is equally a threat. His combat skill is even better than the R-Reaper’s,” Lucia said nervously.

“We have twenty-five agents within the town. While none of them are awakened, it should be enough to at least distract Wallace. Despite his combat skill, his ability is non-combat type, so it shouldn't be too difficult,” Nikolai said.

As they continued to discuss their upcoming attack, a drunken man staggered into the clock tower with a woman on his arm. They stumbled up to the room where Nikolai and his group were waiting. The man reeked of alcohol, his clothes disheveled and stained. The woman, barely able to stand, clung to him, giggling uncontrollably.

“Oh sorry, I didn't know anyone else would be here. Could you please leave my girlfriend here? Really wanted to check out the top of the clock tower,” the man said, trying not to fall over.

At that moment, Nikolai walked over to the man and held his arm out to him.

“Huh, what are you doing?” the drunken man asked with a confused look on his face.

As he held out his hand, reality began to distort and warp around the space surrounding the man's head. His neck began to twist as his facial features slowly contorted. The man screamed as he slowly cried blood. He then collapsed onto the floor, his face unrecognizable from before.

The exact moment the man collapsed onto the floor, the woman began to run away. She screamed and ran down the stairs. Nikolai then pulled out a knife as it levitated and stabbed the woman in the leg as she tried to flee. As the knife sunk into her leg, she fell down the stairs, collapsing to the ground with her neck twisted, dying instantly.

“Scarlet, burn the bodies. Leave no trace of them,” Nikolai commanded.

Flames appeared around Scarlet's hands as they wrapped around the two corpses, lifting them into the air as they slowly burned away, leaving nothing but ashes and small chunks of bones that fell onto the ground.

They cleaned up the remains and went back to their preparations, planning out how to deal with their two adversaries.

Outside, the wind began to pick up, rustling the leaves of the apple trees. The idyllic town of Applecrest stood on the brink of a significant and dangerous transformation. The stage was set for a confrontation that would determine the fate of a young girl and potentially much more.

As the two brothers continued their search, oblivious to the machinations occurring in the old clock tower, the urgency of their mission weighed heavily on their minds. Time was running out, and the peaceful facade of Applecrest was about to be shattered by the impending clash of powerful forces, all converging on a single, unsuspecting child named Iris Blackwell.

Iris sat in her room reading a book, glancing occasionally at the clock. The time was currently 5:57. In two hours and three minutes, Iris will die, though she didn't know this.

“Iris, honey, come downstairs for dinner,” Iris’s mother called from downstairs.

Iris placed her butterfly-shaped bookmark into her book as she began to walk downstairs. As she left, her bookmark slowly flapped its wings within the confines of the book.

At those same moments, a man was reading a book in a library, the book writing itself as time went on, detailing everything that was happening within the town of Applecrest.

The man was 5’ 8” (1.72 m) with white hair and pale skin. A mole under his right eye contrasted with his glowing golden eyes, and black circular glasses sat on his nose. He wore a black suit with a yellow tie, adorned with a butterfly brooch pinned to his suit. Lastly, he wore a pair of white gloves.

“It seems this chapter is reaching its climax. I hope those two can save her. It should be fine; after all, that man is there as well,” the Bookkeeper said to himself.

He paced back and forth around the room, becoming increasingly stressed over the situation. Every possible scenario where something could go wrong flooded his mind.

“Damn it, damn it, I can't take the stress! I should have snuck those two an extra artifact or two. The burden it would have cost me wouldn't have mattered. If she dies, everything will go to hell anyway. I can't even look at her future, damn restrictions!” the Bookkeeper yelled, kicking a chair in anger.

The Bookkeeper continued to freak out, occasionally breaking items within his library, though never destroying any of the books.

He sat there on the floor reading the self-writing book, tears slowly falling from his eyes.

“Please save her… I’m begging you to save her…this time, please,” the Bookkeeper said, softly crying as his voice became weaker.

As Iris walked downstairs, she was greeted by her parents.

Iris’s mother had pink hair and green eyes. Her smile was warm and inviting as she served Iris her food. On her plate was pork chops with a side of mashed potatoes, broccoli, and apple slices for dinner.

Iris’s stepfather had red hair, orange eyes, and a beard. He was large and muscular, but still very kind towards Iris despite not being her biological father. He managed a factory in a neighboring town. Iris didn't remember her actual father, who had died when she was only two years old. Her mother rarely brought him up, nearly crying every time she did. How he died or what he even looked like was a mystery to Iris. Her mother had only met her stepfather five years later, and they had recently married last year.

“Honey, you have to eat your vegetables, alright?” Iris’s mom lectured.

“But mom, they’re yucky,” Iris complained, scrunching her nose at the sight of the broccoli.

Iris kept pushing the vegetables to the side of her plate, focusing on the rest of her meal.

“Maybe if you ate yours, it would set a good example,” Iris’s mother said, glaring at her husband, who was acting the same as Iris.

“But Sarah, they’re yucky,” Iris’s stepfather said, mimicking Iris.

The family continued to enjoy their dinner, passing the time. The evening seemed perfect, blissfully unaware of the approaching danger that would soon shatter their peaceful world.

A masked man stood on top of a nearby rooftop watching the family as they ate. His mask was white and emotionless. He wore a black cloak with a black suit underneath. Almost no part of his physical characteristics could be identified; even his hands were covered by black gloves. His long white hair flowed in the cool breeze of the approaching night. The man's cloak was wrapped in vines and white roses, and a crown of said roses adorned his head. Behind him, twelve masked corpses lay on the rooftop, each impaled with a knife whose pommel took the shape of a white rose.

“Oh, Nikolai, you really should have brought more useful soldiers with you. Overconfidence was always your greatest flaw. It's getting late; it's best to wait in this area instead of hunting for more of Nikolai’s dogs,” the masked man said, looking at a pocket watch he pulled from his suit pocket.

The time was exactly seven o’clock.

“In one hour, those bastards will make their attack. I won't let them kill the key this time,” the man said, with an angry look on his face under his mask.

Markus and Wallace continued to walk around town as the sky slowly began to darken.

“Damn it, we don't have much time left. Where could she be?” Wallace said, panicking.

At that moment, a crossbow bolt was fired, sinking into Markus’s calf as he dropped to his knee. Six masked men suddenly appeared—two with axes, two with knives, and two with crossbows. They surrounded Markus and Wallace.

The men each wore a black cloak with a black jumpsuit, and each one had a different animal mask, a cow, a pig, a sheep, a lizard, a fox, and a horse mask.

“See, Wallace, everything worked out. Our enemy brought themselves right to us,” Markus said, groaning in pain.

“Did you really need to let yourself get shot?” Wallace sighed as he pulled the crossbow bolt from Markus’s calf.

Wallace held out his hand as a green light emitted from it. Markus’s injury quickly healed as if it had never happened.

The masked men closed in, their weapons gleaming ominously in the fading light. Wallace quickly assessed the situation, calculating their chances.

“Let’s make this quick, we don't have much time,” Wallace sighed.

As the masked men lunged at them, Markus and Wallace moved in perfect sync, a testament to years of fighting side by side. Wallace dodged the first swing of an axe, countering with a swift punch that sent his attacker reeling. Markus repeatedly dodged knife strikes and retaliated with a powerful kick, knocking the wind out of his assailant.

As one of them was knocked down temporarily, the two crossbow users fired their bolts at Markus

.

“Such a petty attack will never work on me,” Markus said, smiling as the crossbow bolts suddenly stopped in midair, inches from his head.

Markus then grabbed both bolts and threw them at the shooters. As soon as he released them, the bolts disappeared and reappeared inches from the men's foreheads, piercing their masks and killing them both.

“You could have at least tried to interrogate those two. We didn’t need to kill them yet,” Wallace sighed.

“It’s fine, I’ll spare one of these trash,” Markus said, excitedly.

“No, you won't. I know exactly how you are. Despite being my older brother, you really are a child sometimes, especially when it comes to your patience,” Wallace said teasingly.

Wallace walked up to two of the men wielding knives as they rushed towards him. They were clearly well-trained, yet Wallace easily dodged their attacks. It was as if a normal civilian attempted to fight a military veteran—one-sided and almost effortless. In one swift motion, Wallace stole both their knives and stabbed them in the backs of their legs, causing them to collapse.

“See, that's how you do it,” Wallace said, taunting his brother.

“Good, then I can kill those two. Spatial Sever,” Markus said, as space itself fractured, slicing the two men cleanly and causing them to fall to the ground.

The two men Wallace had incapacitated looked in horror as they witnessed Markus’s attack.

“If you don't want to end up like the rest of your comrades, it’s best you talk. Tell us where we can find Iris. My brother isn’t known for his patience. If you take too long to answer, and we aren’t able to save her, I will come back and remove each of your organs in alphabetical order. So talk now,” Wallace said furiously.

The two men instantly provided the address to Iris’s house and then begged not to be killed. Wallace removed the knives from their legs and swiftly stabbed them in the head, killing them quickly.

“Let’s hurry before we’re too late,” Wallace said, beginning to run as Markus quickly followed.

The masked man continued to watch from the nearby rooftop, glancing at his pocket watch. The time was 7:45; in fifteen minutes, Iris will die.