The Curator's Heist Plan

Bookworm_Reg (Hermit): (File Attachment: New World Online Day 1 Revenue Report.pdf)

SkyHigh Roller (Magician): Woah! We are making so much money!!! I'm going to Macau and then Las Vegas to celebrate this! Anyone want to come with me?

FXUnicorn_Cat (Fortune): I haven't gambled before, can I join you?

SkyHigh Roller (Magician): Of course you can, baby! Besides, what we do in trading is already the highest level of gambling! Why did you think I entered the world of venture capital in the first place? It's for the high!

Lord Fitzwilliam (Emperor): Is anyone suspicious of our operation?

Diamond_Diva9 (Empress): They will be curious about the technologies, certainly. But given the current supernatural frenzy gripping the United States, they will most likely overlook it, focusing on the more sensational aspects. Crucially, they will also overlook our secret automaton research and production.

Lord Fitzwilliam (Emperor): Excellent.

Baroness von K (Death): Besides having them, what will the automaton be used for?

Cipher (Moon): We can always use them as PMC units to conquer some third-world country in Africa and extract resources for our own use. A most efficient solution.

Larry the Lush (Sun): To act as our agents, of course. We're a super-secret organization now, and we need subordinates to order around and do things we'd rather not soil our own hands with.

Palette Princess (Temperance): Huh? I thought we would just be selling them as robot maids and butlers or something for the wealthy?

John Curator (Tower): Anyone up for a little smash and grab at the British Museum?

G. Hawthorne (Star): ???

Larry the Lust (Sun): ???

Palette Princess (Temperance): ???

StreetLaw (Chariot): Why raid the British Museum all of a sudden, Tower? This seems... out of left field for you.

FXUnicorn_Cat (Fortune): Yeah, Tower, this is unlike you.

John Curator (Tower): You see, through my recent discoveries in Egypt, I have traced back an incredibly important artifact that may possess formidable supernatural power. It's almost certainly stored within the labyrinthine warehouses of the British Museum. It's said to be a Fragment of Babel.

Larry the Lush (Sun): A Fragment of Babel, that name sounds familiar. Aside from the Tower, I think I heard of that name before... Ah, I remember the name being listed at the Blackwell auction too. Could it be another supernatural item was at that auction?

AluM7 (High Priestess): Let me pull up the auction list from Blackwell. Give me a moment.

...

Palette Princess (Temperance): Number 73: A Fragment of Babel...

John Curator (Tower): No, I don't think that's related to this one. This is something entirely different. It was an artifact from Egypt that the British notoriously "acquired." I'm not entirely sure of what it is, but it's definitely in there.

Bookworm_Reg (Hermit): Are you certain, Tower? What makes you so sure of its location and significance?

John Curator (Tower): Absolutely. I possess a fragment of the whole item myself. It seems to be exhibiting a peculiar, almost magnetic attraction towards the British Museum.

Cipher (Moon): That's all I need to know. Let's plan a heist.

 ________________________________________

Inside the British Museum, a man sat at a large, ornate desk, a sleek VR headset obscuring his eyes. He was deeply immersed, the faint glow from the device reflecting off the polished wood.

A sharp rap on the door pulled him from his virtual world.

"Come in," he called out, his voice a little distant.

A bald man entered, impeccably dressed. "Good afternoon, it seems you're a little busy."

"John?" The man at the desk recognized the voice. "Ah, give me a second to find a safe place."

Then, he smoothly took off the VR headset, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the real-world light. "Sorry about that, John," he chuckled, stretching his arms above his head with clear, unadulterated enthusiasm. "This new game is just too addicting. It's like I'm living a second life; I can move my body like I was young again. The sensation is simply phenomenal."

John, observing him, smiled. "I've tried it too, Marcus. It's truly a miracle of technological innovation."

"We should absolutely play it together sometime!" Marcus suggested, his eyes lighting up. "What's your username? I'll add you later tonight."

"It's John Curator," John replied, the name rolling off his tongue with a hint of amusement. "I'm currently at a marvel at the scenery. It looks straight out of medieval Europe, doesn't it? The attention to detail is exquisite."

"Indeed," Marcus agreed, nodding. "The developers behind it must be historical experts too, to capture such detail."

John's smile widened, a touch of pride in his expression. "It certainly seems to be the case. I would love to meet with them and sit down for a chat."

"So would I," Marcus chuckled, before shifting to the purpose of John's visit. "So, John, what brings you here to the museum on such a fine afternoon?"

"I've just returned from my trip in Egypt," John answered, stepping further into the room. "Figured I might as well stop by to say hello to an old friend."

"It's good to see you too, John," Marcus replied, a warm smile on his face. "How about we head to the pub after the museum closes? The usual place?"

"Sounds good," John agreed, already turning his gaze subtly towards the office door. "I also couldn't help but notice the museum is more heavily guarded than usual. Is everything alright?"

Marcus sighed, running a hand over his bald head. "You left London not long after the Red Rain, John, but things have certainly tightened up. The government placed more security in case any artifacts turn out to possess supernatural power. They've been testing them, much to my dismay." He gestured vaguely at the stacks of paperwork on his desk.

"Sounds rough," John conceded, his voice sympathetic. "But given that these relics may have more history than we know, perhaps it might offer a new perspective on history?"

Marcus let out a dry chuckle. "If that were the case, I'd be hopping with joy, believe me. However, most of the relics we have in possession are just sitting in the underground warehouses, collecting dust. The true history of it all is likely lost to time."

"It truly is a shame," John murmured, his eyes lingering for a moment on the door. "Well, I'll be outside looking around the museum. I'll leave you to it."

"Haha, enjoy your time, John," Marcus said, returning his attention to his work.

John then quietly stepped out of the office and began to wander through the hushed halls of the British Museum. With each soft footstep, an almost inaudible mutter escaped his lips. John was subtly shaping the ground deep underneath the museum. The earth beneath the ancient foundations began to soften, imperceptibly at first, then coalescing into the beginnings of a small, discreet tunnel.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit security room, a lone guard lazily watched the bank of monitors. His eyes, heavy with boredom, occasionally glossed over the slight, intermittent static that flickered on one of the camera feeds, dismissing it as a minor technical glitch.