Chapter 8: A busy day part 2

Part 1

Morning of 10 July 2011

Philip spent the last few days relaxing, waiting for the wound on his forearm to heal. There is no treatment that will do it instantly (unless you know a psychi with the ability to heal wounds), but James taught him that one way to speed up the process quite a bit is to meditate.

He had a lot to process.

First of all, Clara Taylor, a dear and respected friend of Philip's, is in another facet of her life a mercenary member of Brotherhood RG. Finding that out was a huge shock, but he refuses to believe she's a bad person.

"There must be a reason," he kept repeating to himself.

Brotherhood RG is a rather special group. It is said that they have a strict moral code and that is why they do not use firearms. It is also said that they don't just take on any job for a pile of money, but that they screen their clients to avoid doing serious harm to civilians, but these are just rumours.

However, Philip is quite suspicious of these rumours after seeing two missiles dropped on his head, even if it was in a liberated area.

However, he still firmly believes in Clara and the ideals she has always shown to those around her.

A hard—working, caring, kind girl.

The complete opposite of him.

—Aaaah.

He's already lost count of how many times he's sighed in these eight days.

There's the other subject that has occupied his mind and kept him awake at night.

He had murdered George White, the head of his class and a member of a network of psychis who might now be after him. The Eyre stone he took from his corpse is now inside his body.

That act still dismayed him. A deep guilt invaded his heart, but he was unwilling to doubt the path he had chosen.

Overcome anyone it takes to obtain the Eyre stones and...

Part 2

Thanks to the stone merging with the stamp on his forearm, he was able to experience a rather curious phenomenon.

Despite meditating to speed up the healing process, the wound healed at an abnormally fast rate. Within three days his arm was almost completely healed, but he still decided to continue wearing a bandage, as the stamp is visible and too conspicuous.

Secondly, the jagged purple lines that ran the length of his forearm, which made up the stamp, became slightly thicker. Almost the thickness of two coins.

The third thing was a sharp increase in nausea, fatigue and nightmares. Every morning, he woke up with a cold sweat running down his body.

All this started from the 3rd of July, so it was easy to come to the conclusion that it was the fault of the stone.

Part 3

After showering, he made himself breakfast, sat down on the sofa in the living room and turned on the television. The morning news came on as he devoured his French bread and took a few sips of his cappuccino.

[There are more and more protests for and against the dark reform. There is a very tense social atmosphere and the government is analyzing measures to avoid conflict"].

[The government is advancing the idea of a plebiscite for the implementation of the dark reform.]

[The Department of Dark Energy Containment is dissolved! Following irregularities in the investigation of the incident on 21 June and the explosion at the headquarters on the 1st of this month, the central government decided to terminate the operations of the department and hand over its activities to the police. In addition, the department's director of operations, Anthony Martin, will be investigated..."].

A familiar name popped up.

"Ugh!"

Prrr Prrr

His phone began to vibrate, it was a call. He settled back on the couch, turned off the TV and picked up.

—H—hello.

—[Hello, Philip].

It was Ethan Martin, the former school bully and someone close to Philip... in a weird way.

—Oh, Ethan. It's weird that you call me, even more so on holiday. How's it going? Did you go to many places with Zac? You know me...

—[Shut up for a second. You heard the news, didn't you?] —Yeah.

—Huh?

—[What the fuck happened on the first one? My dad's out of work, he's being investigated, my mum got sick from the stress. Does it have anything to do with the information I gave you on the last day of school?].

—Wait, I don't know what you're talking about.

—[Don't play dumb, Zero].

—¡¿?!

The only person who knows Zero's identity is Bill.

"He told Ethan?"

Philip sighed so Ethan could hear him over the phone.

—Your great powers of deduction, he seems to have got it wrong this time.

There was a grunt and followed by a sigh.

—[This isn't going to lead to anything. Geh. Sorry to bother you, I'm desperate. This situation is so...].

—There's no need to apologise, I know very well.

—[Ah, yes...].

Andrea, a very important friend of Philip's had recently left. Ethan is one of the few people around Philip who knows that fact.

Philip knows what happened at D.C.E.O. headquarters, but he can't tell Ethan. He can't let his identity as Zero be revealed, even if Ethan has strong suspicions about it.

—Oh, right. I know it has nothing to do with the topic, but I wanted to ask you something.

—[What is it about?]

—You know, I saw a very striking girl at school on the last day of school, and I'd never seen her before. Very thin, long hair and slanted eyes. She was in class 11—C.

—[Mmmh. Zac told me about a girl who came in this year, but she hardly ever goes to school. I'd have to ask her if she matches your description].

—I'd really appreciate it.

—[Well, I should cut]

—Say hi to Zac for me when you see him.

—[Okay...].

The call ended. He managed to keep his identity as Zero safe and was sure he could gather some information about the girl in the red qipao.

—Fiuu.

When he relaxed to continue enjoying his breakfast....

Prrr Prrr

—Huh? —Ethan again? No, I don't think so.

Checking the number on the screen, he swallowed.

—Hello.

This time he spoke firmly.

—Good morning, Mr. Philip. As you may have noticed, this is Ingrid, the head maid at Mrown mansion.]

—Yes. How do you do? Has anything happened?

—[I look splendid].

"As usual eh..."

—[There's a lot of commotion at the mansion, your father has asked me to inform you that he will be waiting for you in his office].

—If it is something urgent, I shall be unable to make any excuse.

—[I have not been informed of this, but... As I have a great deal of confidence in you, Mr. Philip, I will tell you.]

—It has to do with what is going on?

—[It has. From the way things are being handled, I would say almost a hundred per cent. sure, it is something to do with Mr. Touch.

"My brother?"

—[You know, Mr. Phil would only call you about something like that. A lot of people connected with the company came in and there's a lot of secrecy. It's unfair, I want to know].

A hint of anger seeps into Ingrid's normally expressionless voice. Among the maids at the mansion, she is known as the gossip queen. This situation must be difficult for her.

—If you're trying to use me to tell you later what happened, I'm sorry, but it won't be like that.

—[But, but...].

Now it was anxiety. Philip was amused by these changes of attitude that she only showed through the phone.

—[Let my father know I'm on my way].

—I'll be waiting for him with his hamburger. I'll be waiting for you with your favorite burger, sir].

—No... No need.

Sweat began to run down Philip's face. Now she was trying to buy him off.

Before she could complain again, he cut the call short.

—How troublesome.

Philip took a sip of his cappuccino.

—It's cold.

After finishing his breakfast, he grabbed a coat and headed for the Mrown's mansion.

Part 4

10 July 2011 at 13:45

Philip walked to an area far to the east of the city center. There, in the middle of a large plain, stood a huge white and light blue mansion.

It was a unique and beautiful construction, which did not match its surroundings at all. It was surrounded by fences of more than five meters high and security agents could be seen everywhere.

A gardener was putting the finishing touches to a beautiful shrub from France.

Philip arrived at the entrance and spoke to the agent at the sentry box, who was leaning back in his chair sipping a hot drink because of the cold.

—Good morning.

—Oh!

The officer, named Frank, overreacted, spilling his drink all over the floor of the booth.

—Aaagh what the fuck. Oh, Junior? What are you doing here? I haven't seen you here in a while.

—My father has requested my presence. I'd like to enjoy the rest of my holiday in peace, but that won't be the case.

—Ah, I completely understand. When I was your age, I spent every holiday surrounded by girls.

Philip grimaced uncomfortably. Frank had said it with an absolutely casual expression, crossing his arms and nodding his head, which turned Philip's stomach as he tried to suppress his laughter.

—Junior, I've always wondered, did you leave here because of problems with your parents? Forgive my boldness, but you really left when you were a kid.

—Don't exaggerate, I was fifteen. The reason I left is....

Philip stopped for a second to think.

—I'd say I don't feel comfortable here at all, I don't like big spaces.

—Oh... Ok.

After that exchange, Frank opened the gate for Philip. A stone path led to the huge gate surrounded by a façade of marble pillars. There stood one of the servants of the place, apparently one who had entered the last two years, as Philip did not recognize her.

She is about twenty—five years old, tall, with black hair and marked Asian features.

She makes a reference by raising the hem of her uniform.

—Good morning, Mr. Philip, my name is Tsukasa Kei, I was hired a little over a month ago. It is an honor to meet you.

"She's very pretty."

Philip gets a little lost in the young woman's figure, but manages to introduce himself properly.

She walks him to the door of her father's office, knocks on the door and after receiving an answer, opens it and walks away.

—Good luck, sir.

—Yes, thank you.

Philip enters and closes the door.

He hasn't visited this room in two years, nor has he visited it many times before.

Covered in dark wood, with hand—carved dark oak furniture.

A collection of statuettes of all kinds of material, including element 347.

Philip sits opposite his father in a huge, comfortable chair, which matches the rest of the room.

His father, who was talking to someone on the phone in a low voice, cuts the call and looks with his usual hard expression at his youngest son.

He is a tall, somewhat muscular man, but his build is slim. He has wavy black hair, with a lock of it resting on his forehead. Dark gray eyes accompany his serious face.

—Philip, son. Something truly tragic has happened, and we reckon you must be one of the few people who know about it.

Philip swallowed audibly.

—It's about Touch, isn't it?

The man paused for a moment, somewhat perplexed. Immediately afterwards, he nodded his head softly.

—Exactly. He has escaped from the confinement center where he was being held.

—What?

Touch Mrown, 19 years old, was isolated in a special building run by the Department of Dark Energy Containment due to an incident that Philip didn't know much about, but which was related to some supernatural power. This incident brought a lot of trouble to the Mrown family and especially to Philip I, the father, who had to do a lot of maneuvering to hide it from the world.

Philip never asked about this fact after his brother asked him, and repressed any curiosity he had to avoid making him uncomfortable.

He had to watch his brother accept confinement that bordered on the inhuman.

It was about to be four years.

What happened that day?

It's not worth asking now.

—It was last night. Apparently, he took advantage of the vulnerability that place is presenting now because of what happened with the Department of Containment. I wanted to know if you went to visit him recently and if you know or have a clue where he went.

"I have no idea where he could have gone, but I am intrigued as to why he did it. He had accepted the isolation and never complained... Is it because he found out about Andrea?

—The last time I saw him was on my birthday, he was the same as always and I doubt he knows of places in the city to hide.

—I see.

Philip father scratched his chin a little and continued speaking.

—There's also the possibility that he didn't escape.

—What do you mean?

—He could have been kidnapped.

—If it's something like that, how? The place where he was staying was supposed to be secret, it would be much easier to kidnap someone like me.

—I guess you're right.

Philip Sr. rose from his huge chair and tapped gently on his desk. Philip junior stood up.

—Son, you know. If you don't feel safe in this town, you have a chance to go finish your studies in Southland, you'll be safer there than anywhere else. Remember that I have a free pass to enter.

The option is tempting inside Philip's head. To go and study in a super safe country with all the comforts taken care of. There he would live a full life but... He couldn't abandon the responsibilities he had with his other life as "Zero".

—I'm sorry father, it's a very good offer, but I love this city and I don't plan to leave for now.

—I understand.

The man nodded and Philip son walked out of that office.

He didn't ask him why he didn't come to see them on his birthday, or how he was. They didn't have that kind of relationship.

Returning to the hallway he met Tsukasa again. She greeted him with a smile and escorted him into the main hall, where his mother, Emma Ford, was sitting. A beautiful woman in her early forties, with beautiful long blonde hair. She usually wears fancy dresses, on this occasion a blue one with gold embroidery. Her serene expression is accompanied by a faint, unchanging smile, which Philip internally compares to that of the ghostly The Redhead.

"Smiling like that even though your son has run away..."

—Son. It's been a long time.

—There's been a lot of commotion around here, hasn't there?

—That's right, our partners at Ducko Security are going to help us look for your brother. —That's right. We can't depend on the police or anything like that.

—I can imagine.

—If you ever hear from him, please let us know. —Touch is a very important man. Touch is someone very important.

"So very important, eh...? Is that why he's been locked up all these years?"

—Yes mother, I will.

She nods and Philip leaves the residence.

At the door he passes someone who was about to enter, a childhood acquaintance of Philip's, Stephen Ducko.

Stephen is twenty—four years old. His body is stocky and he is very well built. His hair is black, close—cropped.

He raises his hand in greeting to Philip.

—Hey, junior, how's it going?

—Worried about Touch. Are you in charge of his search?

Stephen nods several times and continues speaking in his energetic tone.

—Your father has asked me explicitly. You know our parents are in a partnership agreement and I can't leave Touch out there either, it's a fucked up world.

—Then I have nothing to worry about, I've heard a lot of good things about the way you work.

With someone like Stephen looking for his brother, Philip could concentrate on finding the missing Eyre stones.

He feels that his brother is well and will soon be back, what worries him a little is what will happen when that happens.

Will he be locked up again, or because the containment department has been closed, will he be left alone?

He doesn't have time to think about that now.

Philip walked past Stephen, who held him by the shoulder.

—Is something wrong?

A piercing glare glared at Philip. Stephen squeezed his shoulder tightly but then relaxed both his hand and his expression.

—No, it's nothing.

But he didn't let go.

—Stephen?

After that last call for attention, Stephen let go of Philip and held up his hands apologetically.

—I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm a bit stressed and hungry. See you, junior.

—Yeah...

Part 5

Heading towards the exit, Philip stops his steps when he meets someone he knows who is watering the plants and flowers that decorate the path. This person notices the boy at once.

—Are you leaving already, Mr. Philip? I thought you were going to stay for lunch.

Who asks that question, bowing her head with her expressionless face, is Ingrid, the head maid of the mansion.

She is about thirty—five years old. Short blonde hair and light blue eyes. Her body is slim, but she has quite pronounced curves.

—Yes. Normally I wouldn't come for such a short time, but it was a matter of urgency, you know how my father is.

—It's a pity, I was about to prepare a delicious meal for you.

Philip laughed a little, making a wry grimace.

—Next time then.

—Oh, by the way, has anything serious happened to Mr. Touch?

—I don't know if I should tell you anything like that, but if you're so desperate for gossip, I've got something for you.

—E— Really?

She frowned.

—Yes. That new maid, Tsukasa, doesn't seem like a normal person. I felt a little nervous around her.

—Oh, what could that mean?

Philip walked back towards the entrance, leaving Ingrid behind.

—I don't know. You can find out for yourself.

Ingrid drops the watering can and clumsily runs towards him.

—W—wait, sir!

Part 6

July 10, 2011, at 18:35

After leaving the mansion, Philip went to the city center. There he had lunch and bought some clothes, novels, video games and other things and then went back to his flat.

When he got back to the flat, he lay down on the sofa and tried to sleep.

Prrr Prrr

—Really?

Philip took his mobile phone out of his pockets and without seeing who the call was from, he answered.

—Hello.

—[You're very cold to your best friend].

A sleepy voice came over the speakerphone.

—Oh, Bill. Sorry, it's been a long day.

—[Wonderful, let's make it longer. I need you to go to the roof of Mrdr Tech. You're already cleared to go up.]

—Wait, wait, wait. What do you want me to go to the rooftop of a tech company's building for? —[Oh, right, the reason I need you to go to the roof of a tech company's building.

—Ah, right, the reason. I've developed a drone with this company that takes extremely high—definition pictures. I thought you could use it, so we're going to try it out.]

—But it's already getting dark.

—No problem, it has a night vision lens.

"Uhmm, one of those drones might come in handy. Maybe I should go take a look to see how it works."

—[All right, I'll go. Text me the address.

—[Ok. I'm going to be a little late, you go in and wait for me on the rooftop].

—Yes, sir.

Philip, who hadn't even taken off his coat yet, walked back out the flat door.

10 July 2011 at 20:49

“The City” or “Central Business District" is the financial center of Melbourne and is filled with tall skyscrapers of contemporary and elegant Victorian architecture.

It is home to the country's major corporations.

But it was also the epicenter of the 21 June incident.

On the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings on the site, Philip Mrown II was waiting for his friend, Bill Hecker.

This building belongs to Mrdr Tech, an Argentinean technology company that moved to this city just three years ago, and is located just three blocks from the huge crater that appeared a few days ago.

Bill has collaborated with this company on several occasions, and they have launched several energy and element 347 related devices, so they are also on good terms with Mrown Corp.

Philip is leaning on the rooftop railing, which is about one hundred and forty centimeters high. He can barely see the cars and people below him.

He takes his mobile phone and opens a game to pass the time until Bill arrives.

10 July 2011 at 20:57

In the underground part of a public library, there was a clandestine clinic and, in the room located at the end of a long corridor, there were piled up different devices such as computers, soldering irons, tools, etc.

Amongst all this pile of things, there was a messy desk with four monitors, scattered papers, disposable coffee cups and ink.

A boy with blond hair and light blue eyes was lying on it. Eyes that rested on huge v—shaped dark circles under his eyes.

He is half—opened those eyes and said.

—I'm sorry for doing this to you, Philip.

Part 7

10 July 2011 at 21:23

Philip felt Bill was already taking too long.

And curfew was starting in a few minutes.

He called him repeatedly, but couldn't get through.

—Did something happen to him? —He wondered as he stared up at the night sky, clouds obscuring the moonlight and stars.

The loud clanging sound of the hinges of the rooftop door echoed throughout the place, followed by a loud clang as the door closed.

Philip kept his eyes on the sky.

Footsteps were getting louder and louder.

Philip decided to turn the back of his body.

—At last he came...

Before him was not his friend Bill Hecker, but someone whose presence alone made him tremble.

An existence totally superior to him, whichever way you look at it.

—Good evening, Philip Mrown. —Or should I say, Ze~ro?

—Willo...

The girl in the red qipao smiled a terrifying smile.