Charles spotted the stylish gray beret the tall man was wearing. The emblem of the Protection of National Peace and Welfare Organization stitched in detail to the left side of the beret quickly caught his attention. The symbol was an olive branch wreath, with a tilted coin in the center, that was encircled by a cogwheel tilted to the opposite direction. In addition, the coin had a small hole in its center. The name of the organization was written around the symbol in all capital letters in a bureaucratic font.
The long name of the organization was often simplified to "the union" between workers. The same also went for the government's security agency, which was named the National Security Agency, but was simply called "the corps".
The two men followed the man wearing a beige jacket, a vest of the matching color and a maroon tie, contrasting his dark brown trousers and shirt. His brown shoes looked somewhat glossy and polished. His clothes looked well-made and quite high quality.
Charles put his watch back in his left chest pocket and followed the man, which went into the room on the right. The room was quite spacious. There was a mysterious, dark opening the size of a door on one of the walls. There were bookshelves rising up the walls, with a desk in front of them. Books were stacked on top of each other and a single book had its pages flipped open on the desk. A single gas lamp was burning with a bluish light. Charles looked closer and noticed that the lantern looked incomplete. He thought back to the lamp on the desk of the stage, which similarly lacked the part used to store fuel for the lamp. The letters on the open book looked strange; it was as if there was another layer written on top of the letters inked in black. The strange letters looked like a product of one's imagination, as if they were afloat on top of the page. The dim light from the lantern casted an ethereal bluish hue over them.
The tall man reached towards the book and grabbed it, before swiftly shutting the cover. This caused the bluish light of the lamp burning inside the lamp to intensify for a moment before flickering and going out completely the next.
What was that? I thought I was seeing double for a moment there… I also felt like I could see inside the walls. Actually, inside the walls. Not past them…
Charles was somewhat startled as the darkness of the room hit him.
Was that an afterimage?…
"I'll be taking this with me."
Charles snapped back from his thoughts and asked:
"Sorry, sir, but I believe I haven't seen you around before. Would you mind introducing yourself to us?"
"Oh, you are right, Mr. Blackwell. I've forgotten to introduce myself, haven't I? Well, I am head of the Intelligence Department, Arthur Jones. From the capital branch. I was assigned here from the capital branch as a supervisor after the recent disappearance of Captain Wendelson.
He extended his hand out to Charles with a firm smile, and Charles shook his hand.
Matteo was looking at Arthur with unreadable eyes.
"I didn't think I'd see you here, Matt. Did they assign you here as well? Small world, am I right?"
"You two know each other?" said Charles.
Matt stuttered as his eyes regained their focus and said:
"Oh, yeah. This is… well, Arthur Jones. I used to work directly under him, for the intelligence department."
"You two didn't act like you knew each other. Why-"
Arthur stopped the question in its tracks:
"Well, gentlemen, if that's all clear now, let us head to the stage of the conference hall."
Arthur pointed to the dark entrance in the wall.
"This right here is a tunnel that leads to the door next to the stage. We'll be entering the hall from there in order to not attract any unnecessary attention."
Arthur took a few steps before stopping suddenly and facing Matteo, before speaking in a stern yet not cold tone of voice.
"If you will, Matt."
"Oh, right, of course…"
Charles scowled and asked: "What are you two talking about?
Matteo pulled out his sleek blade from its scabbard. Charles felt the familiar heat that had lit up their cigarettes, just on a much larger scale. The entire blade became bright red before it was covered with the luscious, red flames, lighting up the way in the dark tunnel.
The three men walked in the dark tunnel being lit up by Matteo's sword. There was only one visible path, thus it wasn't difficult to find one's way. When the party finally reached the door, Arthur stopped and reached into his right side pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a bronze-colored key with two teeth.
Charles tried pushing the door open but the door was locked. He looked over at Arthur holding the key.
Arthur inserted the key into the keyhole. The key mechanism made a clicking sound as the key found its place. He turned the key left once with his right hand to unlock the door. He took the key out and placed it back in his right side pocket.
He grabbed the wooden doorknob and opened the door, entering the conference hall. Right when Charles was thinking about how they had left the door unlocked, Arthur made the gesture of turning a key left with his right hand. Charles was surprised to hear a faint clacking sound. It was undoubtedly the sound of the door locking. He turned his gaze to Arthur as he frowned.
All three men made their way up to the stage. Arthur placed the closed book on the lectern. He turned around and took a few steps before noticing Matteo and Charles, who were chatting about something.
Matteo's expression was filled with concern. He sounded quite uneasy as he spoke with a low tone of voice.
"Look, I'm just telling you. Isn't it a little weird that there's suddenly a supervisor assigned to a not-so-special branch like this one? People go missing all the time. Well, I know he was of captain rank, but still!"
He'a right. I haven't really seen this type of thing happen before. Such cases are usually handled well enough by the departments themselves. Do they not trust me? Or worse, do they…
His tone dropped to a whisper: "He's head of the Intelligence Department, no less. From my time there, I know these guys are shady. Just… just watch out."
Charles scowled, listening intently.
"I will… I appreciate you telling me this. Oh, it seems like he's coming over here."
Charles shot a quick glance at Arthur, then at Matteo, who was looking back at him. They stared at each other knowingly.
"Hey…"
"Yeah, I know."
As the two put on normal expressions again, Arthur put a hand on both of their shoulders and spoke in an upbeat manner.
"You two seem worried… Ah, well, I assume your Captain is missing, isn't he?"
"He is, Supervisor Jones."
"I hope I didn't give off any wrong first impressions, gentlemen. Oh, and please refer to me as Arthur. There's no need for such stiff formality."
Arthur pulled his hands off their shoulders and offered a polite smile. He took his place in front of the lectern with and slumped ever so slightly, his smile fading. He put his hands on the book, eyeing the conference hall. People were leaving. The hall was becoming less and less saturated with people. His stare scanned the people taking their seats and leaving, making sure nobody unwanted would be present when they started. He tapped his fingers on the thick, worn-down cover of the book. As he gazed at the book, his expression twisted for a split second. After letting out a sigh, he coughed to clear his throat. He straightened out both his posture and tie.
A man with a mustache and fedora calmly took his seat on the left side of the amphitheater. He placed his hat in front of him and scanned the room. He looked as if he was feigning indifference, gently rapping his fingers. He bent his head down. The corners of his lips curved up, though not quite enough to form a smile. He chuckled very quietly, the sound closer to that of an exhale. As he thought of Arthur, their gazes met for a moment, before he stared at the floor again, looking lost in his thoughts.
…
The conference's beginning inched closer and closer. Time was ticking away steadily, like it always had. In a tower south of the country, the unchanging, deep, metallic whirr of many cogs, gears and chains echoed throughout the uppermost floor of the watchtower. It couldn't really be said that this was a mere watchtower, however. This particular building was the beloved wonder of the city. Out of the five floors of the tower, only the top two served visible functions to the outside world. Countless black, metallic chains extended down into the ground on the first floor. The chains went into the ground and back up, constantly moving heavily. It had a clock facing the city, and a magnificent lantern on the top. It was located on the shore of the bottomless ocean full of mysteries.
Someone was staring at the sea on the top floor of the tower. There was a working desk on the side facing the sea and some kind of telescope next to it. A typewriter with the black paint on its keys slightly worn out was on the desk. A piece of paper that clearly wasn't finished being written yet stood upright, tucked into the typewriter. A stack of paper was right next to it, with many other papers also scattered throughout the desk. A single piece of paper was directly in front of him. It connected seven four-pointed symbols resembling stars with lines.
He was watching the lucid lights of the stellar night sky start to shine. He felt amazed and helpless at the sight of the constellations forming, painting the night like a brush dipped in a rich and shimmering paint, telling innumerable, timeless stories as the sophisticated strokes of the brush hit the dark, bottomless canvas. The unbearable and brilliant wonders of the human mind that had been forging this world since the dawn of forever, and would continue to forge a future until the dusk of eternity flourished under the night sky. A bright star, part of the constellation telling the truly ancient tale of time that had no beginning or end, stood out to him at that moment.
"Time cannot be bent, twisted, rewound… All we can do as humans of this era is try our best to understand it. Perhaps one day we will truly be able to comprehend the directionless flow of time."
He looked at the bright star.
"If you know where to look, you'll notice the boundless universe is already full of clues."
The night covered the sky like a heavy blanket, a profound, dark blue spreading across the clouds. Waves crashed with just a little more fervor, splashing against the uneven rocks. Sharp winds swept through the streets. All of the chains in the building emitted lustrous particles of light, like fine dust. A bright, pure white light coming from the lantern on the top floor turned on and illuminated the darkness, making the deep, vivid night look that much less intimidating.
A girl was sitting by herself on the floor below the top of the tower, which was where the clock's gears, cogs and chains actually were. The interior of the floor was slowly brightening up with a soft, yellow light. The girl bent down slightly as she lit up the few gas lamps one by one. The last lamp flickered and started burning. Before sitting down again, she took a scarf hung on the chair. The thick wool of the scarf wrapped around her neck softly. The girl took her seat once more and looked out from the window that was the clock to the outside. A giant round window made out of cathedral glass faced the city. The clock showing the time was installed on top of the window. The hands and roman numbers outside the glass looked graceful and unreachable. She saw the hands tick away, a certain darkness and stillness steadily conquering the landscape of the city. Faint shimmering could be heard, so faint that maybe it was sleep taking over, the boundary between reality and dreamland blurring by the second.
Tick, tick.
The minute hand of the clock moved twice with mechanical precision, before the hour hand snapped into place.
Clack.
An entrancing shimmer, sorrowful yet hopeful, resonated across the sky. As if pure-white snow was falling behind the round, thick glass. To the people of the city who were still awake, the mesmerizing, vibrant radiance inside the clock was on full display.
The loud sound of the bell rang out across the entirety of the sky.
…
The last person to come into the conference hall shut the large door and took a seat on the right side of the audience.
Arthur kept his stance in front of the lectern as Charles took his place on his right. Matteo paced nervously behind them, before breathing out a sigh like he was unable to decide on something. In that very moment, he decided take a step forward.