"...The explosion of the convoy had resulted in five of the IMSA Defense Force agents dead, and the other three fatally injured. Authorities are still working to determine the cause behind this incident; however, it is believed that the same perpetrators behind the murders of the IMSA search party in Saint Denis earlier last month instigated this attack. Emergency crews remain on scene, assisting and tending to those involved–"
The television flickered off, a thorough silence in its wake. Yet the news of what had occurred still lingered in the small room. Dominic sat there on the side of his bed, rubbing his temple as he tossed the remote to the side, staring vacantly into the blank screen. "What's even going on anymore?" He mumbled, turning over to flip the light switch next to him before lying down. His eyelids drooped, overcome with an unexplainable exhaustion–yet for a long while he stared at the dark ceiling, wondering.
Amidst that stillness, Dominic bluntly thought, "Magnus–a lot really had changed since they first popped up decades ago. But in this day and age I'm in? Things are changing way too fast for my liking," as he rolled to the side, facing the wall. "And just when you need some peace and quiet too," he yawned, slowly shutting his eyes, blanketed by the cold air of the night, its moonlight softly piercing through the windows and streaking across his room.
A few minutes of total silence passed–save for the chirping of crickets from outside–Dominic was already deep into rest, calm and unbothered. And yet, at the mere crack of light reaching his face, he would suddenly open his eyes. In his awakening, Dominic lazily sat up, pausing to observe his darkened surroundings, a subtle irritation crossing his face. Pushing a thumb against his cheek, he muttered softly, "This won't do."
Dominic hastily jumped out of bed–putting on a nearby gray jacket and sliding on white slippers–before, as quietly as he could, leaving his flat. Locking the door, he glanced over to his left and right, seeing if anyone was present. It was just him. However, placing his keys into his pocket, he froze and shifted his gaze back right, to the end of the tan corridor. Eyes fixated, sharpening on the door just four rooms down. A loud static hissing from inside. "Couldn't care less about what others are up to nowadays, yet lately I've been getting the creeps from whoever's living there. Apparently moved in a little over a week ago. Never seen them leave their place, never seen them at all–just that on and off static," he shook his head, "Makes you wonder if they're still even kicking." Dominic shrugged off the feeling and briskly moved left, down the stairwell.
Making his way out of the doors of the apartment block, Dominic felt a chill breeze rush past. Bromley town made bare even in the night–the drenched streets reflecting the lampposts' glow and brightening up its quaint scenes. Pulling up his hood, Dominic hurried to cross the street, stopping momentarily once on the other side. "Ah, take a right? Or was it left?" Despite going often, he barely got used to the route. "Nope, it was right," Dominic groaned before finally pushing himself in the direction, leisurely walking the narrow pavement, turning a corner, and taking shortcuts. All while indulging the moon, gazing upon now rested businesses, what little cars rush through puddles in a splash, the occasional stranger returning home.
Eventually, Dominic would reach the convenience store in just a few minutes. By then, he was eager for some refreshment, and he briskly swung open the doors, stepping inside, a soft chime ringing as he cracked his fingers relaxed. "Back again? And you're saying you don't have trouble sleeping?" A familiar voice called out. Facing their way, Dominic snarkily responded to the smug cashier at the register, "I sleep just fine–I should be asking you since you're on the graveyard shifts, Leo," smirking as he stepped towards an aisle. "Nothing too big for some hard-earned dough," Leo shrugged, crossing his arms.
"Sure, whatever gives you peace of mind," Dominic mumbled as he grabbed two of his favorite chips. A drink had crossed his mind, but his water intake was poor enough already. Carrying his goods, he returned to Leo and tossed them on the counter. The latter clicked his tongue, about to check out the items, before abruptly pausing. His eyes flashed wide in thought, mouth curling into an excited smile. Leo locked eyes with Dominic, who raised a brow, bewildered–as well as slightly unnerved.
"Spare me just a second and take a look," Leo insisted, taking a step back and closing his eyes. Half a minute passed. Nothing happened. The silence between the two grew painfully awkward, at least until Dominic, upon noticing something off, blurted out, "Mate, I feel like you're forgetting something–" but shut his mouth. Before his very eyes, the two chips began to levitate, and at the tilt of Leo's head, floated throughout the store like a pair of birds, greatly surprising Dominic as he watched, mouth slightly agape. Eventually, they would return and be laid gently on the counter, to which Leo opened his eyes, cracking a massive, proud grin.
"I'll be damned," Dominic hummed, "No more hands needed, in just a week? Talk about impressive," he rested a hand on his nape. "Wasn't easy though–IMSA had me doing some serious stuff just to make my Magnus better," Leo heaved out a sigh, wincing. "Told you not to slack off," Dominic told smugly as Leo rolled his eyes, barely amused, "But aye, if I keep this up now, it'll all be worth it! Might land a better job someday because of it, who knows?" He winked, giving a thumbs-up. "Yeah, I heard the Pizza Shack down the road's looking for someone to go around parading as their mascot. There's your spotlight," Dominic mentioned sarcastically. "Honestly? Beats the register," Leo replied as he started to scan Dominic's items.
After taking his goods in a plastic bag, Dominic left the store, now eager to return home. He had to admit, despite everything, Leo truly was one capable lad, who no doubt had a bright path ahead. And for a moment, Dominic curiously imagined, "What sorta potential does a guy like me have?" However, before mustering up any sort of answer, his mind was drowned out by the rumbling engine of a vehicle driving slowly past. It was a white van, simple and sleek–if not for the symbol it bore on its side. Two broken rings of shaded blues, surrounding a central star of similar color–that unwavering symbol of the International Magnus Safety Association.
The sight had surprised Dominic, "What's the IMSA doing out so late in the night?" He thought. Ultimately, as the vehicle drove off into the distance, he chalked it up to "Maybe a Magnus awakening? That'd be one hell of a thing to wake up to in the night–an agent or two at your door. Hah." And yet that conclusion did not satisfy Dominic. It was unlikely. As far as he knew, awakenings were already incredibly rare. "And one happening around London? Sure, maybe. But in Bromley of all places? Fat chance." Now getting a different hunch, a faint uneasiness crawled within him, one he tried to disregard. Shaking his head, he continued to walk back home, albeit at an unconsciously hurried pace.
It did not take long for Dominic to arrive, and when he now stood before the doors of his apartment block, he took a breath of such relief to the point he stumbled into the building like a drunken man. "Just a moment ago, I was so full of life. Ah, where'd all the years go?" Dominic playfully said, rubbing his eyes. Traversing up the stairway to the second floor, Dominic had already opened up a bag of chips, snacking on them, but as he approached the steps up the third floor, where he resided, a certain noise became apparent.
It came from upstairs, and seemingly, within one of the rooms, the rugged sound of dragging and shuffling–almost that of panic–echoed throughout. That previous dread had seeped back into Dominic as his face tightened, and his hand gripped the railing whilst he froze, waiting. Each second, the noise grew louder. Rougher. "What am I doing? Must just be a neighbor," Dominic tried to affirm himself, yet there was no denying that something was off. Shaking his head, Dominic slowly raised a foot, planting it gently onto the first step. That was when the noise stopped.
Dominic held his breath, a drop of sweat racing down his neck. He attempted to listen in further. Nothing at all. And that silence brought no comfort. Dominic scratched his head, weighed by reluctance, repeatedly uttering, "Let's get this over with. There's nothing at all, nothing in the whole wide–" until the violent slam of a door startled him into jumping back, the chips and the bag slipping from his hands, sprawling across the floor. Dominic looked around in a daze, but not a second later, rapid footsteps pounded from above and began leading down the stairwell.
Every instinct screamed at Dominic to run. However, a figure now stood at the top of the stairway. Staring Dominic down with sunken eyes. A white, narrow face, distorted by a furious expression. This man, fit in an all-gray attire underneath a black coat, appeared hideously unkempt, almost like that of a corpse reanimated. It didn't look like he belonged here. Dominic gulped up his saliva, barely mustering the courage to shout "Hey, what's going on–" until the figure spoke.
"You," The man's raspy voice cut through, "You're IMSA, aren't you?! Nothing you do will matter!" He abruptly howled out, prompting the confused Dominic to spout back, "What the hell are you on about?!" Suddenly, the man leapt down the stairs, catching him off guard as he latched onto Dominic. "Crap–let go!" Dominic grunted as the two entered a brutal struggle, stumbling back into the corridor, attempting to overpower the other.
Eventually, Dominic was able to shake off an arm and landed a heavy blow to the man's nose as they staggered around, groaning. Closing in with a reeled fist, Dominic was intent on landing a finishing blow. However, the man quickly struck him across the face in retaliation, knocking Dominic against a window and leaving him coughing. And before the latter could prepare himself, the man kicked Dominic fiercely in the chest, shattering the window behind him into hundreds of shards as he was forcefully thrown out.
The last bit of air fled my lungs as a sharp pain stung throughout my body. And when I felt the breeze rush past my skin, and the stars above blurring, only then did I realize what was coming for me. A fall of about five meters directly onto hard asphalt–that's survivable, right? But let's say you do survive, you'd be scarred and broken–maybe even die later if fate's feeling cruel. That's pretty horrifying, man. Still, who was that guy, picking a fight out of nowhere? What a berk. God–whatever happens, happens. Life's always got an annoyingly sick sense of humor.
However, amid his fall, Dominic's body twitched at random, sparks of ashen light flickering around his figure, which began shuddering into translucence as though he were phasing in and out of reality. And the moment he was about to hit the ground, he fully 'disappeared.' Only to then instantly 'reappear' upon impact, body thudding harshly against the pavement and immediately going limp as the shards rained down, some marking his skin in crimson. There, Dominic lay unconscious, clinging to a narrow breath that was fading.
There was nothing to be seen.
Just the dark, and its misshapen silhouettes.
I couldn't tell for how long.
But that was when I, very slowly, opened my eyes. Taking everything in was nauseating, all while an overwhelming fatigue surged throughout my body, the slightest of movements bringing pain. That, alongside this odd, subtle 'whirring' in my bones. Fortunately, I was resting on a soft bed, surrounded by oak walls and a silver ceiling. Albeit there was a panel light shining directly onto my face. Burns my eyes. Regardless, this meant that I was in a hospital. Don't get me wrong, I'm relieved, I just find it a little baffling. How did I manage to survive? Where'd that guy go? Who found and brought me here?
"Rise and shine," a gentle voice emerged, taking me by surprise. Using what little energy I had, I carefully twisted my head to the left. "Took you long enough. Eh, then again, you did take quite the damage. Sorry you got dragged into that mess," The man chuckled. He appeared to have black, messy hair and charcoal eyes. Wearing a white-collared shirt–sleeves rolled up–and black slacks, I nearly mistook him for just an unusual doctor in my exhaustion. Until I noticed the armband on his right. The symbol that was on it. Two broken rings. Surrounding a central star.
"I'll have to apologize. This isn't exactly a pleasant thing to wake up to, surely," he leaned in, hands locking together.
"That aside–it's nice to meet you, Dominic Isaac. My name is Watson Harlow, IMSA Primary Institute member and Defense Force operative."
"We'd like to inform you that, regarding the awakening of your Magnus, you are now hereby under the security and jurisdiction of the International Magnus Safety Association."