Chapter 2: Chapter 2: An Alternate World

  Headquarters of the Commission Against Supernatural Entities. Meeting room. Four people are in a conference room looking at the pictures taken underneath the city's industrial district.

The woman presenting the pictures has an unusual color of hair. Eyes that are red and hair that is closer to silver than blonde. All of them are wearing neatly tailored business suits with linens that protect them from projectiles.

On the whiteboard are photos taken from the sewers of the City of Saint Lucius. On the left side of the whiteboard is a picture of a man in his twenties. Brown hair and green eyes with a sharp jaw. He has long unkempt hair with a rough 5’0 clock shadow. The dossier they are holding reveals information on him.

“This Enforcer did well. However, it is concerning that he has released the gas in the sewer system. It’ll take weeks before our cleaners can remove this gas.”

“He left a lot of bodies. Then again this picture is more concerning. We haven’t had a case like this since the time of Carmilla.”

“How’s the count?”

“Five hundred or so. Most of them seem to have been taken from somewhere and sacrificed in the pit.”

“Good Lord. We spent years without knowing about this Cult?”

The woman in front of the group takes a picture from a folder and distributes it to them. They took one look at the picture and groaned at the sight of it.

“A summoning circle at the bottom?”

“What did they summon?”

“They were trying to summon a lesser demon. They made a mistake at one of the sigils and summoned something else. There are signs that it did work. But it’s probably nothing more than a Ghost they brought back which I believe was dispersed afterwards.”

“Did these fools really think that it's The Time of Myths? That era has been dead and we only have remnants of the powerful magic that Old Simon and Merlin used.”

“Let’s assume that this summoning wasn’t used. Hmm, were they planning to make use of the sewer system as a summoning medium?”

“They did. However, we have made progress in making sure that no such thing can be done. We’ve deployed the Cleaners to secure the area and the rest are going to be in-charge of disposing of the bodies.”

“We’ll have to inform them of this.”

“Not now. Delay the information until we get to the bottom of this. Miss Sinclair. I want you to bring our Agents to this place. Figure out the place and put wards all over the ten districts that might be affected by this abominable work. After that we’ll inform the locals that are on the need-to-know basis about this problem.”

“Shall we put the city on high alert?”

The ruby-like eyes of Miss Sinclair stares at them. They look her in the eyes and nod slowly.

“No choice right now. Too big to hide this and I’m sure that a few crows and vultures will come to know of this despicable event.”

Miss Sinclair surveys the room. She moves back and points a finger on the picture of the Enforcer who discovered this.

“Then there should be no problem in promoting Enforcer Robert Oswald to a higher grade Enforcer?”

“How’s his magical abilities?”

“Basic training in sealing techniques. He can weave three elements and has been taught sealing and binding.”

One of them reads his dossier.

“He’s still young. His previous records didn’t say he has the skills to conduct this kind of operation.”

On the dossier it states that he has received basic military training. He worked as a bodyguard for a Sicilian Gang who was targeted by Cultists. He was found among the survivors and was given the choice to join the Commission.

“Promote him. It’s good to have an Enforcer with martial abilities.”

Miss Sinclair agrees quietly. The rest of them start discussing the cleanup of the bodies. The amount of bodies that are in the pit of the sewers are enough to cause nationwide news. They didn’t need that attention so they’ll have to be quick about cleaning this mess.

After the discussion is done. Only two remain in the conference room. Miss Sinclair reads the report while the Older gentleman by the name of Cole Clay scrutinizes the pictures.

“These Cultists are getting bolder.”

“That they are, Mr. Clay.”

“It doesn’t help that we’re dealing with the problems in Algeria as well. 135 dead now.”

“Did they catch the one who orchestrated that train crash in Hunan?”

“Not yet. We have leads to follow, but let’s leave it to their Sector. We already have enough problems here.”

“That reminds me, sir. How was the vote?”

“Thankfully the House of Commons didn’t vote on the total ban of handguns. We had someone persuade them since most followers of Thelema are still active. We don't want our men there to be outgunned because of these laws. Not that they wouldn’t appreciate a good old sword fight.”

“What’s your take on this, Mr. Clay?”

“They are fools. The Time of Myths are dead. What’s left of that time died when they nailed the son of god on the cross. Hmm, but I don't think you’d appreciate my views.”

“I simply don’t agree with the doctrine of cessationism, sir. We still can weave spells and cast magic.”

“They say that it was easier to defeat the Spawns when the divine words had not totally ceased. When we lose the divine tongue we need to defeat them with our human methods. I fear that day where our connection to the spiritual realm ceases.”

“Technology and Supernatural don't seem to like co-existing.”

“Distortions will happen. Unfortunately we are in a world where fools like these are still active. I’ll leave the work to you, Ms. Sinclair.”

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Mr. Clay places the documents on the table. He leaves the conference room with hurried steps. Ms. Sinclair takes her flip phone out and dials a number.

“Arrange for the Cleanup. Let Richardson handle it and please contact Mr. Oswald that he’ll be promoted for his service. Yes, the Commission has decided that he’ll be raised just below an Agent of the Commission.”

Ms. Sinclair ends the call and writes a letter with the words:

For his service in uncovering this abominable truth. Robert Oswald, shall be raised to a high grade Enforcer of the Commission Against Supernatural Entities, and shall answer only to the Commission and its Agents.

Let the Flaming Sword of Uriel cleave those who live in darkness.

Let Camael’s strength and courage flow into you.

So Zophiel may watch your actions and find you worthy, in the eyes of the Divine.

 

***

 

Robert takes a look at the letter that came from the Commission. He stares at it for a long time before placing it on the side of his bed.

He has been in this room after he got himself treated for the wounds he sustained. The Doctor who treated was surprised how he was able to live in such conditions and spent hours in a pit of corpses and spending fifteen hours in a sewer system.

The rest that he took has somewhat healed. Robert has noticed that he has double the healing rate compared to before. It’s not so magical, but it does allow him to close his wounds with rest and medicine.

Medicine was effective on him and he is much more resistant.

His strength and senses are doubled. His enhanced physiology made it quite clear that he still has his strength and Robert’s strength. Robert has no idea how that came to be. He has this theory about his soul currently dominating this body and with the souls merged together creating a stronger physical vessel. He could never reach this level of physical conditioning in his other lifetime.

He took note how he’s punching like two humans in peak human condition and moving more quietly and faster than he usually does. Other than his body being stronger. He felt no changes. He does have two memories now inside his head that are now blending in together.

To cope he had to decide that his memories as Robert Oswald are nothing more than the past and that presently it is him, Kato, who is experiencing the present. He made this mental switch that allows him to cope into using the identity of Robert Oswald while not abandoning himself in the process.

He’ll make use of the memories of Robert Oswald as a tool. But he still remains as Kato inside. He needed this line of reasoning badly because he was starting to lose his mind of having two pairs of memories. He simply chooses whose memories and personality will dominate.

Nonetheless, he still keeps the name. Even bastards know that he at least should respect the name of the guy who has given him a second change in life. Accident or not. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Robert’s accident in the sewers. And because of that he is now Robert Oswald.

Robert takes the paper and reads the newspaper column:

The Leader of Soviet Russia, Boris Yeltsin and the newly elected president of Chechnya, Aslan Maskhadov signed a peace agreement last month, exactly thirty four days ago. It has been a hot topic within the last weeks. Though some say that little is achieved by this treaty.

Robert groans at the sight of that name. It has been clear that the history of this world is somewhat different from what he knows. The Soviet Union remains but is acting more like a Federation instead of completely being dissolved into many republics. 

And as far he knows there is no city-state called Saint Lucius that exists in his world.

“Well, glad that I still have an apartment.”

Robert says while looking at his wounds. He shudders at the sight of his face. He looks away and then slaps himself before looking at the clothes prepared for him.

A white polo shirt, belt, and cargo pants. The clothes he wore had been disposed of after he spent hours using it on the sewers. He himself didn’t want it back.

He is just taking time before the hospital official discharges him. They have written his case as an unfortunate accident. The police didn’t question him despite looking like he just murdered people. Because for him  he only killed monsters imitating humans.

The hand of the clock strikes five. He goes out of his hospital room, talks to the nurse in the nurse station for his discharge papers. He finds his way down the floor and arrives in front of the road.

His first thought upon exiting the hospital is the salty breeze carried by the Mediterranean Sea. He has not seen the world map yet. But he did hear that they got trouble with the three Great Lakes. He still needs to orient himself. Get used to this world.

He stands like a damn fool. He looks around. Sees a cab and hails it. He sits on the back, tells the driver to take him to the address that pop into his head.

“North Rosewood, 14B, sir.”

“Which street?”

“Should be the living street.”

“Ah, I know the place. Can only take you to the entrance.”

“Not a problem.”

Robert hangs back. It’s strange to him. The sky didn’t have that tenuous glow of steel skyscrapers and glass towers, sticking together. It is unlike the world he knows where sometimes the glowing lights of the pedestrian and advertisements the size of buildings provides annoying lighting.

The sky's still blue. There are no early warning signs of a geothermal storm coming to ruin everyone’s life for the next few weeks. No pets melting under the sky because of said storm. Or the radio broadcasting about a new strain of virus and what filter they should use for their mask or how they should dress for the day.

It terrifies him how clear the air was. How wide the spaces are and how the cab driver is driving on the road without fearing for some flying car to fall from the sky.

“Secretary General appoints Mary Robinson, who resigned her post as President of Ireland to promote civil rights worldwide. Known as a barrister and an expert on human rights law.”

“Israel's Supreme Court Sunday rejected an appeal by opponents of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to overrule prosecutors and indict him for fraud in a government influence-peddling scandal. The Prime Minister’s appointment of a political ally as attorney general in January. Authorities suspect that Mr. Roni Bar-On was appointed in exchange for support from Aryeh Deri. Experts say that Mr. Deri is a key ally in the Prime Minister’s governing coalition.”

Robert listens to the news while watching the rows of houses passing by.

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