The hectic atmosphere of the Savior agency was always somewhat comforting to those that worked in its well- trodden halls. Whether above ground in the sunlit offices where warriors became artists sketching out ideas for the latest graphic T-shirt or advertisement, maintenance workers who always claimed that the copier needed fixing when they just wanted to grab a cup of coffee or sit and talk with someone for a few minutes before they headed dutifully back to work, and all kinds of jobs that sent people every which way as they went about their work, above or below ground. In the building's cool belly where they polished their weapons back to a glossy shine after getting back from a mission and readied themselves to go out again on another trip to who-knew-where. Or up above ground where they pretended to have completely normal jobs.
No one would have ever suspected the people climbing out of their cars in the morning- yawning and stretching even as they walked through the front doors of their workplace to be anything but normal human beings. But this was far from the truth, not outlandishly far, but far enough to literally escape reality; and a person only needed to look close enough to see the purposeful activity taking place behind the scenes to know that nothing was exactly normal here, though the Savior agents knew that better than anyone. The receptionist, an elderly lady that always wore the same displeased expression on her face as if she'd just bitten into something sour- kept a twelve-gauge under her desk. Workers were required to present bronze, silver, or gold cards to the security guard at the front gate before they were allowed to drive their vehicles into the parking lot. And the whole area owned by the so-called Secondhand designs company was fenced off with eight foot tall, wrought iron fencing (the only thing that could keep out evil unicorns, though the fence couldn't hurt the non-evil ones), security cameras topping the posts every few yards- all hid from view with row after natural-looking row of massive evergreens which stretched full, healthy branches to the sky at all times of the year. Doors were locked with card scanners and keypads, and people always seemed to hold onto the doorknobs for a few seconds longer than was normal; almost as if they'd forgotten where they were going for a moment or two- except that every person did this and it simply couldn't be labeled as a coincidence. But the secret was so well disguised in a place where no one expected it find it that no one who entered the place would have ever paid the time to notice these things. The twelve-gauge remained hidden under the desk for the odd emergency(and to punctuate her frequent threats), the scent of gunpowder hidden by the chemical smell of the products used to clean the building; not that it would have been strong enough for a normal human to smell anyways. Security measures could be easily labeled as the boss's paranoia and relatively anything other than what a suspicious person might allow his/herself to believe. So the Savior agents went about their work unnoticed- protecting the greatest secret their world had to offer. And lately their work load had drastically increased, life had also been made a lot longer (in a good way), and a lot more interesting.
"Easy girly, easy." Cooed Agent Bluehorse as she carried the frightened cub, trying to be as gentle as she could and also trying to ignore the razor-sharp claws digging into her skin as the cub struggled to get free.
"Mama!" Bawled the cub- who was in fact a one-and-a-half month old gryphon cub, the small furry and feathered creature squirmed desperately in the human's arms trying to escape its strong but gentle grip, not yet aware that Bluehorse was only trying to help her.
"We're going to go find her mother now, alright little one?" Bluehorse said gently, as she tried to get the cub into a more comfortable position where she would be less likely to use her claws on the warrior's arms. The wind tossed the branches above in a wild dance as another strong gust of wind attempted to rip through the forest's thick arms, and more than a few green leaves showered down in waves as the quickly approaching rain soon would, ripped from their branches by the sheer force of the growing storm. Patches of shadow in this small stretch of woodlands created pools of green-gray on the forest floor, some light managing to make it through thick clouds and curtains of leaves- picking up both colors on its journey only to spread them across the carpet of leaves, twigs, and dirt to provide an almost calming lighting to the world around the two. Between the far off trunks of the distant trees standing at the edge of the woods, the Savior agent could just barely make out the dust-colored rise that was the levee bordering the deep-sided ditch spanning the distance between the forest and the farmer's road that looped around one of the many fields dominating the southern countryside. Thankfully there was only the short walk down that road before she reached her truck, hopefully they'd make it before the rain hit, but it wasn't looking that way. Thunder rumbled high up in the sky and the branches being beat against each other by the wind drove out almost any other sound- except during those eerie pauses where the wind stilled completely; the small cub curled in on herself and burrowed into the Savior agent's stomach with a frightened yelp. But this was only to get better leverage to try and push the human's arms away and get herself free.
"Mama! Where's Mama?! Let me go!" The cub wailed, squirming quite suddenly in a frantic attempt to break free and the agent keeping a gentle hold on the mystical being brought the cub up to face height, trying to show the little she-cub that she meant her no harm. Very afraid the little being shivered in fear, tiny beak clacking as she tried to avoid the human's sympathetic gaze. Her small wings curled around the woman's hands- wings that weren't yet strong enough to lift her off the ground and away from this frightening person. Who knew what the human would do to her- clip her wings and keep her as a pet, or something worse? "Pl-please d-don't h-h-hurt me h-human." She begged, or could it even understand her? She was so afraid, her mother had been gone for so long and she'd stayed where she had been told to stay and now there was this human- she didn't know what she was going to do. Humans were dangerous- that's what her mother had told her; mother had said that if she ever saw a human she couldn't let it see her, but there was no way that this human hadn't seen her.
"I'm a little bit more than human." The woman responded kindly, a small flicker of humor in her voice.
"Huh?" The gryphon cub looked up in confusion, shock, and fear as the warrior made her usually gray-blue eyes glow a shocking sky-blue. In amazement the she-cub stopped shaking and timidly stuck out her neck so that she could better smell the human in her sudden overwhelming curiosity. The woman looked like a human, she smelled like a human, even the few drops of blood dug up by the gryphon's own claws from the lady's arms smelled like a human's- so she must be a human. Then something caught the cub's eyes- eyes naturally designed to see small details at quick speeds and great distances; a silver chain-link necklace, with a silver charm in the shape of a rearing horse. The thing was so lifelike that for an instant the cub could have sworn that she'd seen it paw the air even though it wasn't even close to being alive or three-dimensional. Her mother had told her about the human's with the metal necks- had told her these were the only humans that she should reveal herself to. But lots of humans wore metal around their necks, it was the glowing eyes and the glint to the necklace in the dark shadows where no light could reach it to make it shine like that, that reassured her that she was safe. But where was her mother? The panic she felt for her missing mother wasn't doused by the wonder she felt at actually meeting one of these powerful humans, though her mind kept flying to the stories her mother had told her about how they protected all the races- and helped to keep the Hidden Races hidden from human sight and how they fought the evil beings of the Hidden Races to keep them from hurting the others or the humans. Her mother had told her that even though humans were scary she should never hate them. But this woman was clearly not a normal human with her glowing eyes; that must mean that she was one of them and she would find her mama and everything would be okay again.
"You're a-a " the cub gasped in amazement, shaking with excitement as the truth set in.
"Savior agent?" Bluehorse filled in the missing words as she set the cub back into her previous position, wrapped in her arms, grinning as the cub nodded with wide eyes that quickly began to fill with tears of relief.
"Are you going to find Mama?" The cub asked the tears starting to belong to worry and fear as well as relief; thunder roared loudly overhead and the cub began to shake in fear again, staring at the sky with wide frightened eyes. Bluehorse didn't blame her, they'd been standing here for only a minute or two and already the storm beginning to really pick up. She would have to hurry if she wanted to get the cub to her truck before the rain hit- it looked like she was going to have to run to beat the storm; she started jogging forward, watching the ground in front of her for hidden holes or roots that she could trip over. The agent honestly didn't understand how the trees managed to keep any of their branches or leaves in wind like this- it lashed them back and forth, creating a terrifying sound as if to drive warrior to safety by sheer force. The wind caught and tugged at her feet, threatening to knock them out from under her with every strong gust- even in the middle of the trees where the large plants were supposed to break the wind. What would happen when she tried to cross the field, would she just be lifted off her feet and into the air like in one of those old cartoons? She wrapped her arms more tightly around the small gryphon as she now sprinted towards her waiting pick-up truck, wondering if it too might run the risk of being lifted off the ground.
Thunder rumbled ominously once more before bellowing out an ear-splitting shock-wave strong enough to shake the earth under her feet. The Savior agent out of sheer reflex jumped in fear and looked upwards at the dark-gray sky as the cub squealed in terror and attempted to burrow herself into her protector's chest. Bluehorse's heart was already beating as fast as she'd thought it could in response to the violent wind and the scent of the approaching storm, but the loud noise proved her wrong; jolts of panic induced adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she began to sprint forwards, knowing it wouldn't be long until the storm arrived and the weather forecast had been promising hail. Hail was not something she want this small, frightened cub to experience firsthand, especially being only a month and-a-half old. And however fearless the might have appeared there were two irrational(well, not completely) things that she feared; heights- when she had no chance of catching herself if she fell, and bad storms- or storms that just made a lot of noise and sounded bad. She loved a quiet thunderstorm where the soft rumble of distant thunder could lull her to sleep, where the lightning and wind never got too vicious. Even as a child she'd liked to face strong wind and "defey" it by keeping her feet, but when Mother Nature got this furious even the grown up version of the little girl got a little frightened; instincts kicked into high gear adrenaline buzzed through her bloodstream and with ever roar of thunder she flinched and ducked her head as if expecting the sky to come down on top of her. Sometimes it got so bad that every instinct she had screamed at her in an almost unbearable cry for her to run- run as far away, as fast as possible. For once the Savior agent listened to her feet as her ears picked up a nearly silent mechanical wail at the end of every howling rush of wind; a tornado siren was as good as a starting pistol to the warrior, whether or not that's what she was hearing she didn't really care- she needed to get the cub and herself to safety, if that was possible. She picked her pace up into a faster sprint, clutching the warm, precious bundle against her chest as sharp claws dug into her arms once more
the air was hot and humid, and it felt as thick as wet cement, but the woman cut through it with ease, boots pounding out a quick tempo on uneven dirt as she ran gracefully- the cub's mother would be delighted to see her baby and the terrified cub would be a welcome distraction from the pain of her broken wing. Underbrush lashed out at the two, driven by the wind- catching onto her skin and clothes, but it failed to even slow her- she was simply too nimble. Dodging and leaping through the forest with an inhuman grace that could only be displayed in the set of warriors that the woman belonged to. Her heart beat out a more purposeful rhythm deep in her chest as the Savior agent's energy was put to use. Keeping her ears tuned to the world around her, listening in paranoia for that freight train sounding wall of wind that would mean they were more than likely doomed. Bluehorse felt foolish for letting her fear consume her this way, but used it to fuel her speed- knowing that it would be stupid to stay outside in a storm like this. Some people said that Crowley's ridge kept tornados from hitting the nearby towns- but that was a lie thought up to give kids some peace of mind. While the uneven-terrain might leave a lot of places relatively unscathed on the Ridge, it wouldn't stop a twister; and even if she'd believed that piece of local lore it wouldn't have helped- she was on the opposite side of the Ridge, the flat side.
Rows and rows of fields spread out in nearly every direction divided by thin lines of woods and the occasional road, fully revealed as they bolted out from the small safety of the forest. Rice, beans, corn, and all sorts of crops were being assaulted by the same invisible tyrant that lashed out in rage, tugging at the agent's hair and shirt. The corners of her jacket flailed behind her like a banner- unzipped against the heat. The warrior gathered her legs beneath her and leaped over the ditch and hit the farmer's road barely slowing down; mow that they were out in the open she needed to get the cub out of sight as quickly as possible. Bluehorse took her eyes off of the road in front of her trying to see how close the storm was as another loud crash of thunder just barely managed to break through the sound of the wind howling past her ears, although she could feel the shock wave in her bones.. The clouds were a light gray off to the west, but back east- towards the nearest town, they were a rolling mass of black that could only be described as bad news. Some of the rice in the field she ran beside had already been flattened by the storm's wrath and the whole landscape had was now painted in darker shades as if there was no escape from the dark shadows of the clouds above.
Gravel skittered under her boots as she sprinted towards the large hunk of metal nearly a quarter of the field away, her truck- a refuge from the wind and rain. Lightning flashed in the distance followed by an almost instant clap of thunder, mercifully quieter than the last few, but it still managed to evoke a squeak of fear from the creature wrapped in her arms. The storm was nearly on top of them now and Bluehorse quickened her pace again, head whipping back and forth to scan down the gravel road for any sign of approaching vehicles. Vehicles carrying people who might take notice of a small terrified gryphon even in all this chaos. The wind nearly buffeted her off her feet every time she took a stride and she had to fight against it to run in a straight line. No one- not that she could tell anyways, though she defiantly wouldn't be able to hear them above the wind. Besides she was hunched over the baby- not willing to see what hail might do to hollow bones if the storm decided to start chucking balls of rock-hard ice at them, heck she wasn't willing to see what it would do to solid bone either. The ground seemed to dip and sway beneath her with her long strides covering an amazing amount of ground for a human being- she could smell the rain, taste it in the air, and knew without a doubt that if she didn't hurry that they'd both be soaked.
Far in the distance the trees became completely blurred out of existence as the rain hit the area- the land in front of them was being quickly swallowed up by the blinding curtain of rain that was descending from the clouds above. The warrior reached her truck and hurriedly sat the gryphon on the hood and began digging in her pockets for her keys. Within seconds she managed to snag them, jostling them out into the open past the solid bulk of her cell phone, the headlights flashed and the locks gave out a hearty thump-thump just as the rain reached them with the force of a waterfall. She heard the gryphon give out a squeak of fear and displeasure; being both a feline and a winged creature did not help with the cub's opinion of water or rain. Not to mention being this young the poor thing was more likely to catch a cold even in the late spring- and the rain was already strong even to have soaked the agent to the bone in just the few seconds it took to her to open the driver's side door, grab the gryphon, and stick her into the truck. Bluehorse was spitting out rainwater by the time she climbed into the driver's seat and got the door partway shut. She struggled with it for a moment as the wind kept flowing through the gap and into the vehicle, showering a corner of the dashboard with water, trying to rip the door back open.
"Yep just another day at work." Bluehorse inwardly chuckled as she finally got it closed.
Rain pounded down on the roof of the car like an angry horde of the undead and the wind battered the truck, rocking it slightly from side to side as if the wind was trying to push the vehicle out of its way and off the road. But the interior was warm and somewhat dry, even with the two soaking wet figures gasping for breath and spitting out the water that dripped down from the tops of their heads. Bluehorse turned to see the poor baby shaking in fear, cold, and uncertainty looking up at her with wide terrified eyes. The poor creature's wings held close to her body as if to lock in heat or protect herself- small tail curled around ridiculously large paws which sported less comical eagle-like talons that had been dug into the upholstery, trying to ground the gryphon in this mess.
"We're gonna go see your mother, alright? She's hurt but she's very worried about you." Bluehorse told the little cub and the brave, very wet creature nodded. "My name's Bluehorse, what's yours?" She asked keeping a gentle, friendly tone to her voice.
"M-my name's Galaxy, b-but mama calls me Lexy." Lexy sniffed, then sneezed.
"Alright, I've got a blanket in the back, would you like me to wrap you up in that so you're a little warmer?" She asked and when Lexy nodded she shifted around in her seat and reached for the blanket she'd folded up and thrown onto the back seats before she'd left the agency. Bluehorse coaxed the gryphon onto her lap wrapping the warm, dry fabric around the wet cub. When Lexy was settled, she dug out her keys, which she'd stuck back in her pocket as soon as she'd gotten the doors unlocked, and then grabbed her cell phone as well- she stuck the truck's key into the ignition, the quiet clinking of the metal completely overpowered by the sound of the wind and rain. The phone she sat within easy reach on the passenger's side seat- a bit of a stretch for her arm to pick it back up again- but it'd still be close enough to get to and that was good enough; she was probably going to have use it soon. The storm continued on for a few more minutes as the two watched the rain pour down on the windshield that seemed like such a weak barrier to the little cub to be able to keep out the storm. Gradually, she stopped shivering as much but occasionally let out a yelp when the lightning flashed too close, the wind picked up, or the thunder roared out over their heads- leaving their ears ringing and their hearts beating just a little faster than before. Looking down to check the time on her watch, Bluehorse almost laughed- while Lexy didn't seem as frightened as before, she did seem curious. The agent could hear the small snuffling breaths that the cub took in as she explored this strange place with her nose and swiveling ears. The storm hadn't shown any signs of letting off in the last ten minutes and people would probably start to look for her if she didn't show up soon.
"Now I'm going to call somebody in a minute, then I'm going to start up the truck and we're gonna go through a gateway- how does that sound?" Bluehorse asked the shivering Lexy.
"W-what about mama?"
"We have to do these things to reach her now- or would you rather wait until the storm clears up a bit?"
"How long will that take?" Asked the cub looking up at the agent with wide amber eyes.
"The storm?" Bluehorse asked to clarify the cub's question.
A nod.
"I don't know- but we can wait if you want."
"I don't want to wait- I want to see Mama!" The cub wailed.
"Then you'll see her soon." Bluehorse promised as she reached for her phone. She turned it on, entered her password, then dialed the number for the Savior agency's garage- a private number that only the modified phones owned by Savior agents could reach, the technology allowed them to contact the numbers relating to departments inside the agency, and they came with the added necessity that they were impossible to track or bug.
There was absolutely no way that she'd be able to drive in this mess, so it was either wait the storm out or gateway. Usually gatewaying in the middle of the road was heavily frowned upon, as it was a good way to get spotted by the public eye; but the rain formed such a solid curtain that it would be impossible to see the Chevy Avalanche disappear as it was driven through a gateway. Gatewaying had become one of a Savior agent's main abilities over the last year and-a-half, ever since Bluehorse herself had reopened the paths between dimensions. Going through a gateway or gatewaying was very similar to teleporting- only a whole lot stronger. With some of the lesser, but similar abilities(portaling, teleporting, etc.), those that used that power often risked the possibility of phasing into something; and while sometimes those that possessed the stronger version of teleportation could travel through pocket dimensions, they could never jump to separate dimensions altogether. Gateways were a bit different and those (Savior and X agents) who had the ability knew the differences. When someone gatewayed into an inhabited area two things could happen- one, the person inhabiting the area was forcibly and admittedly, rudely shoved out of the way by the gatewayer( or vehicle driven by said gatewayer); or, two- the gateway simply shifted to a new location nearby, usually by only a few feet or inches. Both possibilities worried Bluehorse, since even with someone that had as much control over the gateways as she did, still tended to need to gain some speed when they took something large along with them- like a truck. Which no one would want to be in front of when it gatewayed into an area, not to mention that an agent might not sense the gateway before it opened or have the time to get out of the way- and there was always the risk of gatewaying near someone who couldn't sense the gateways like an agent could.
As Bluehorse punched in the numbers on the phone's touchscreen the little gryphon watched in wonder and the rain continued to use the roof of the truck as its own personal drum-set. She hit the call button and then put the phone on speaker, so Lexy could better understand what was going on, and the little cub whimpered in slight fear as the unfamiliar sound grew louder in the enclosed space. Bluehorse patted the cub's head gently, stroking Lexy's damp fur in an attempt to calm her, a few rings later and then the line clicked to life.
"Hello? Who is this?" A familiar and cheerful voice rang out over the sound of the wind howling around the truck outside. Bluehorse nearly sighed with relief, it was Marcus- she was slightly glad that it was him over some of the others as his more grandfatherly voice was more kind and friendly sounding than some of the other mechanics' deep voices which might have sounded threatening to the already scared cub.
"Marcus, it's Bluehorse"
"Bluehorse? Can't hear you with all that racket in the background- you stuck out in that storm?"
"Yeah- I need to gateway into the garage. I got a little gryphon here with me who wants to see her mom and I can't see to drive in this mess to drive." She called back over the wind, simplifying the words so that there was less to yell and the message wouldn't get mixed in with the rain and wind. After a few seconds she heard Marcus yelling out to the other grease-monkeys.
"You're clear, bring her in!" He called.
"Thanks, see ya in a sec!"
"Alright!" The line clicked dead and Bluehorse tucked away the phone back into her damp pocket, trying not to move poor Lexy too much as she did so. Then she reached for the keys and put her foot on the break before she started up the truck; the Chevrolet growled healthily to life as the dashboard lit up and the headlights kicked on at the lack of light. The gryphon whimpered and curled up tighter in the blanket and Bluehorse gave a reassuring pat to the bundle of fur and fabric. She checked the mirrors one last time, then put the truck into drive and pulled slowly off the side of the road and into the ruts formed by countless other vehicles that had driven the road before her. And with just a press of the gas pedal she had the truck rumbling along at twenty miles an hour, even though that was pushing it with how little she could see.
Focusing inwards and with an expert and effortless flex of her mind, a simple thought that took no more concentration than taking a step forward or taking a breath, a hazy, blue wall appeared across the road right in front of her truck by only a few feet. And in a flash of light the truck dove through. The empty road was completely obscured from any eyes by the sheltering rain in that moment as a few miles away and underground the blue pickup's growl echoed quite suddenly off the cement walls and the asphalt road that led deep into the agency's garage.
Water dripped off its metal body as the world lit up around it with the gleam of fluorescents and the reflection of the headlights against the walls of the tunnel. The scents of oil, gasoline, and countless other chemicals assaulted the pair's noses in a sudden chaotic wave as the truck glided down the slightly steep ramp that led into the agency's underbelly. The feeling of coming home already starting to settle into the warrior's gut. The tunnel was fairly short and it wasn't long before the incline flattened out and the full glory of the garage was revealed; rows and rows of vehicles that the public would never likely see, and if they did they would never notice the subtle differences from the normal versions of the vehicles and those that now sat in complacent lines gleaming with fresh paint coats underneath the greenish light of the fluorescent bulbs. Subtle details like the extra foot or so that the hood stretched and the slightly cramped back seats in a car known to have a lot of room for passengers, the way they sat lower or higher to the ground, or the faint grid like patterns that ran just beneath the paint. The chrome accents that shined too brightly and lacked the noticeable scratches that usually marred these surfaces. But just like the rest of the agency, no one would notice the powerful-looking truck when it was rumbling down the road except as another passing vehicle. The whole parking lot was set deeper into the ground than the rest of the area, but it wasn't cramped by far; low sloping ramps led down to the vast metal herd at each corner and a long road made a large circuit around the entire place- lower down a road ran to the aircraft hangar which was about a mile away and placed beneath an old crop duster hanger, wide tunnels set deep underground ran the whole way there and Savior agents not the agency itself owned the land on-top. Far across the massive room was a single set of stairs that led up to a sturdy metal door set into the cement wall- and despite the age of the place it looked clean and well cared for, Agent Bluehorse's sharp eyes could pick out the blinking orange light of the card scanner even from across the space.
She turned her attention away from the view as she slowed her truck down with a press of the brake and turned the vehicle around the corner of the tunnel, heading for a row of parking spaces set up near the machine shop of the garage; this was usually where they parked the vehicles that they were working on- or running diagnostics on, and this was also where she'd be expected to park. If she didn't she'd likely have guns trained on her until she showed herself and they realized who she was. The sound of the engine rumbled and purred as she guided the truck smoothly forward, echoing off the ceiling and walls as a few of the mechanics exited the shop, which was a large carved out room set beside the entrance/exit to the tunnel, housing all kinds of equipment that Bluehorse didn't even know how to start naming. None of the workers were surprised to see the dripping wet vehicle leaving muddy tire tracks across the smooth cement floor, droplets of water and dark tinted windows hiding the driver. The pair that had stepped out guided her forward with gestures to show her where they wanted the truck; they put her too close to the wall for her liking as it'd be hard to get out if there were any other vehicles parked beside her. She wouldn't complain, she didn't know what kind of work load they'd be dealing with today and if they wanted her to park here then they probably had a good reason for it. The gestures were completely unnecessary, but it was protocol- if an agent had to gateway into the garage then they might be injured and not entirely lucid, and need someone to guide them from outside of the vehicle. She put the truck into park, and made sure the headlights turned off as she turned off the truck. Grabbing the keys she leaned over and opened the door; sliding out of the driver's seat grimacing at the amount of water that had soaked into her clothing making the fabric wet, heavy, and slightly itchy after the unexpected shower she'd received- it wasn't comfortable.
The gryphon had her head buried in the blanket, only a portion of her tawny furred spine showed between the folds of the forest-green cloth.; though when she felt herself being moved her head just enough to peer over a fold in the fabric to take a quick look at her surroundings. Bluehorse looked down at the little cub and gave her a small, reassuring smile trying to encourage her; Lexy nodded then promptly shoved her face back down into the blanket with a slightly worried noise- as if to say," I hope you know what you're getting us into.". Before she had any more time to contemplate what the little gryphon might possibly think about this big, definitely strange smelling room that held so many weird, seemingly useless objects, a familiar face rounded the side of the truck with a welcoming, yet concerned grin.
"Well, who do we have here?" Marcus asked, then exclaimed "Gosh, Bluehorse you two are soaked to the bone! Is it that bad out there?!" He walked steadily forward trying to wipe off some of the motor oil from his hands with an old oil rag, his steel toe boots scuffing against the cement, created by the limp that hardly slowed the old man's steady gait; like the rest of the agents he moved like a warrior. It was in the set of their shoulders, the confident swing of their arms as they walked, the way they spoke and used their words to illustrate a point; they had been trained to fight and protect their lives as well as the lives of others- they had lived as warriors for so long that it had merged itself into every action, every decision, every detail, down to the very essence of their existence.
"Yeah, it's rough out there, I'd love to stay and talk, but I gotta get this little one back to her mother, right Lexy?" Bluehorse explained, cradling the lump of blanket that the gryphon had burrowed herself deeper into. A small furry head poked up out of the makeshift den- looked around, only to see the tall man standing several feet away, she gave out a quiet yelp then ducked back down again.
"Well take care of her, and if you want I'll get you're truck cleaned up for you and the seats dry."
"Thanks Marcus- have you still got the spare key from when I had the upgrades put in last week?"
"Yeah, I've been meaning to get those to you, but I can never catch you at HQ."
"It hasn't been that long, I'll get it from you when I pick the truck up from the garage."
"Well, see ya later then." He waved at the other men and women standing around and a few shouted out their farewells then went back to work, picking back up with whatever they'd been working on before. Marcus was the head mechanic so when he told them that everything was good they all let their guard down, even though they knew her and had probably received a copy of the mission statement for this assignment before she even arrived. That was the way the savior agency worked- like a well-oiled, fragile machine. Everybody played their part, everybody helped out- because this was home and these people were like their family and they would do absolutely anything to keep each other safe from harm.
"Hahahahahaha- oh my gosh! You're soaked!" Rick aka Agent RedStallion laughed, and in that moment Bluehorse decided to downgrade him from one of her best friends to a possible enemy by the sudden irritating outburst.
"Yeah it's so funny, laugh it up moron." Bluehorse huffed angrily, which only caused Rick to laugh even harder- nearly knocking over a fake potted plant as he leaned back against the wall. She'd stumbled across a few agents- including RedStallion, on her slightly embarrassing trek to the Wardrobe- the agency's storehouse for all its non-weapon related supplies, after bringing Lexy back to her very relieved and thankful mother; most had held rather sympathetic expressions when she'd passed them. It wasn't every day that they saw one of their elite warriors walking through the halls trailing wet footprints and dripping water everywhere they went- and it hadn't bothered her until Rick had decided to start up. Whether it was injured pride or dignity- she didn't really care, she was about to give Rick a friendly slap to the face if he didn't shut up; which would probably just make him laugh harder. Agent RedStallion was the medic and the mechanic of Bluehorse's team, he was also red in the face with laughter, doubled over with the palms of his hands braced on the knees of his jeans. He'd been her friend since she entered the Agency- practically their whole team had been her friends since that first day. They'd all trained together, gone on countless missions, saved each other's lives a few times, and were as close as you could imagine. None of this stopped Bluehorse from letting the brief possibility of giving Rick a good punch to the face from crossing her mind. But as much as he annoyed her, he was her friend and she wasn't going to hurt him. But she would leave him laughing his lungs out in the hallway where he could pass for an insane person- or just the idiot he was.
"How is this even funny!?" She thought to herself as she stepped around the warrior. Was it because she was the leader of their team- although technically she'd never asked for the position. Or was it because she always seemed to have the worst luck- or the fact that the sight she presented had been completely unexpected? She huffed angrily, not even bothering to slow down as the man nearly fell over, probably on his way to the garage to help out his buddies or work on his truck.
Maybe it was the wet clothes that were getting on her nerves, her boots squeaked annoyingly with every step as her wet socks rubbed against the leather- it wasn't loud enough to hear, unless you were listening for it and knew what you were looking for, though it was still annoying. Her hair had escaped its ponytail and the long, dark brown locks were tangled extravagantly by wind and rain- they kept falling into her face and sticking to her skin, making her look pissed off- which was precisely what had caused Rick to burst out in laughter when she'd shot him that angry glare as if daring him to laugh. Bluehorse wasn't mad at anyone, she was just annoyed- it was one of those moments when a person knows that they shouldn't be angry but they are and there's no one to blame it on and they don't want to blame anyone either; so the frustration just kind of builds up. No single, independent thing could be blamed for the emotion and it left Bluehorse angry at herself for being angry at nothing and the circle just kept spinning as she continued forward, following the layout of the halls that she'd long since memorized.
The halls had kind of a slightly maze-like appearance designed to confuse anyone who entered, each separate hall had the same paint color on the walls, the same carpeting, and sometimes the same sporadically hung paintings showed their faces on the walls- at times it could all make someone believe that they'd just walked in a complete circle. It was subtle and not overdone, just enough to create doubt; unless like Bluehorse a person had walked these halls enough to know them better than the backs of their hands- or in a Savior agent's case, better than their primary weapon.
Make a right here and a left there, round the corner and open the right door, not the left; easy as putting one foot in front of the other for the woman as she made her way through the beige colored, white trimmed corridors and over the dull gray carpet as water that dripped down from her hair had to be continually wiped out of her eyes. Scents and sounds drew the agent's attention to those that had been here before her, the people that might still be here in one room or another. Their quiet chatter was a near silent hum in the background as they talked to one another and moved around the building- it was an easy kind of laid back atmosphere that suggested routine and casual order. The people that had gone this way or that didn't seem angry or saddened, the voices that drifted through the thick doors and walls sounded calm and content as her coworkers laughed and joked with each other. Bluehorse felt a deep satisfaction that everything in the agency was running smoothly- everything was in order- that nothing was wrong, and everyone was safe. She allowed herself a small tired and relieved sigh as she slid her silver rank pass-card through the scanner next to the door on the right and entered her passcode on the keypad that set beside it- then she grabbed the doorknob and waited to hear the click of the lock.
"Hey Stephanie!" Bluehorse called out as she stepped into the room, it was large for its purpose- since this was the only reception area of the Wardrobe- why they had a reception area no one really knew; it wasn't for security reasons - they didn't exactly store anything dangerous here. Most people had just decided that it was just to make things easier on the agents, the back-room was a large storeroom; which would make it hard to find what you needed. The Savior agent was cut off from her train of thought as Stephanie looked up from her work and opened her mouth to respond.
Stephanie was the main person who took care of this place or at least the only person who ever managed the front desk; she was the one everyone stopped to see on their way to another dimension. If they needed a few extra weeks' worth of ready-to-eat meals, clothes for the trip, or maybe just an extra set of headphones in case the first set got eaten by a giant worm-looking thing again like last time- well all they needed to do was ask. And if it wasn't there it either didn't exist, they were out, or Luke was pissed about something and had decided to practice his hacking skills again. Luke also known as Agent GoldenCoyote was another member of Bluehorse's team as well as the famous tech genius and the infamous prankster of HQ.
"Here to pick up the supplies for the next trip- whoa! What happened to you?" She asked looking up from the computer screen in front of her.
"Rain...wait- next mission?" Bluehorse asked startled.
"Yeah- I guess you didn't get the report...yet?" She asked, uncertainty and apology filling her voice.
"No I just got back- I haven't even been to my office yet." She responded, then added "Just pull a set of clothes from that supply list and maybe a plastic bag or something and I'll come back for the rest of it later- after I read the report. Or is it urgent?"
"Not as far as I know."
"Do you know where it is?" Bluehorse asked curiously raising an eyebrow, they usually got a copy of the mission statement to base the supply list off of, and the best way to tell what dimension an agent was being sent to was by looking at the currency listed in the supplies. Currencies varied between the realities and it wasn't like you could just pay with the cash you had in your pocket from your dimension. When someone convicted of foraging money broke out of their cells as a large winged cat(the true main ability that Agents held was their ability to shape-shift- though they called it shifting) or simply disappeared, they tended to not be viewed as trustworthy anymore. Some agents had the the rather difficult job of collecting money from all the different dimensions- they sold artwork, jewelry, and anything they could create to get a few bucks; won competitions, picked up small jobs- anything so that agents working in those dimensions would have enough cash to provide for themselves while they were in that dimension- at least until they could find some way to support themselves. Which usually consisted of teaming up with a group or organization to work with, one that met their standards and held similar viewpoints as the Savior agents themselves; meaning that they weren't evil or otherwise corrupted, and just like the agents they were about saving lives and preserving all the good products of society like justice and freewill. These agents went from place to place, taking jewelry that had been created using resources from other dimensions to sell in pawn shops and flea markets. Sometimes they risked sticking their necks out to sell jewels that had been legally mined in another dimension. The artwork was harder to get rid of and none of the agents really liked getting into competitions where they might have an unfair advantage- plus they didn't always win and then it tended to become a waste of time. Supply lists were based on an agent's needs once they entered that dimension- often they couldn't carry much with them; unless they'd been lucky enough to have been sent to a Minecraftian dimension and had actually managed to buy one of those personal inventory chests- the things cost a fortune but her's had worked in every dimension Bluehorse had been to so far. The warriors needed to move around quickly and not be noticed, sometimes they had to survive for weeks on end out in the wilderness- which was easy for a Savior agent if they were in a heavily forested area with fresh water sources and no reservations about hunting in or out of shift for their food. When they were lucky enough to find a Similar dimension, they would base the supply list off of the dimension it resembled and what the Savior agents had needed there.
A Similar dimension was a dimension that was not an alternate/parallel dimension, although it so closely resembled a previously discovered dimension that it seemed to be an alternate/parallel dimension. Alternate/parallel dimensions were the same things- timelines that ran alongside the timeline that the Agents could access. Alternates, or parallels- whatever people chose to call them; couldn't be accessed by the agents, because they were timelines in which they had never arrived- the agents simply didn't exist in those dimensions. It was the luck of the drawl on which timeline an agent would arrive in, or maybe it was just some twist of power or fate that placed them in the timeline where they would do the most good, the rest becoming known as parallel dimensions after they arrived. A timeline to an agent was the series of events, choices, and outcomes that had created the reality that they would see when they entered that dimension, they could sense that these parallel dimensions were there- but they couldn't sense what was going on there or enter to find out. It was a complicated mind-numbing, brain-exploding mix of facts and limits to their powers that they just instinctively knew and this served as just another reason to not dive too deep in finding out just how their powers worked. They could be called a bit paranoid over some things, but maybe paranoid wasn't too bad of a thing to be when it gave people a little more care and respect for their abilities.
So for Bluehorse to ask Stephanie if she knew which dimension she'd be traveling to was a completely legitimate and answerable question. Stephanie began to type away; the light of the monitor in front of her changed as she pulled up multiple pages, humming in quiet speculation as she searched for the answer to her coworker's question. Her fingers danced across the keys far faster than Bluehorse thought anyone could type, the tapping of the keyboard creating an almost musical sound. She spent what felt like several minutes entering passwords, probably looking for a copy of the mission statement or at least the supply list which should be there somewhere.
"Not really- I don't see the mission statement here... which is odd, but by the looks of it I'd guess that it's a Minecraftian dimension. So-the usual?"
"Definitely- it'll save me some time later." Bluehorse answered without even a second of hesitation.
"Oh, I can get those clothes cleaned for you if you want?"
"You are a life saver- Steph!"
"I'll take that as a yes?" The woman chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm.
Fifteen minutes later and Bluehorse was in fresh, dry clothes and feeling a lot better. Her charcoal-black boots were crossed and planted on the top of the fake-mahogany desk as the warrior leaned back in the nice leather office chair that sat in-between the desk and the wall. The door to her office stood off to her left, firmly closed and locked- like always. The walls were a slightly deeper color than those outside of the room while the carpet stubbornly remained the same shade of pale gray that dominated the majority of the underground floors. Bookshelves took up the entire back wall, books packed so close together she could hardly get them free as well as a few stacked neatly on top where they were almost impossible to reach. The scent of them filled the room and calmed the warrior like nothing else when she stepped back into the place after a difficult or long mission, the scent of her friends who often entered the room mingling with the scent of old leather and ink. The books covered topics close to her heart and her job, titles concerning things like how the myths and legends of the creatures they protected related to the history, politics, and culture of those races; books describing the history, politics, and culture of the races- which often came in handy for the frequent meeting with leaders among such races as the dragons or gryphons(as they were picky when it came to human officials that they would speak with), other than that the rest of the shelves had been filled with volumes regarding the Savior agency- myths and legends, known history, filing codes, contacts, rules, protocols, and security measures. Bluehorse was instantly, and rightly labeled a bookworm the minute anyone who didn't know her stepped into the room. Often when she didn't have anything better to do she'd pull out a volume by random or choice and read peacefully until the next stack of paperwork was dumped on her desk, emailed to her, or spit out of the fax machine- or as was more often the case she was sent on another mission or informed of another meeting. When she wasn't reading she often snuck in a few rounds of Portal or G-mod with her coworkers that ate lunch in their offices so that they could play an hour's worth of video games. Her computer was a massive piece of modern technology and there were some days that Bluehorse dreamed of taking the thing home and using it only as a gaming PC. It was at least two or three times the size of a regular computer and it barely fit underneath her rather large desk, in comparison the slim, polished monitor that sat neatly on the tidy desk taking up only a small amount of space was a large contrast to its giant companion.
She grabbed the file folder that had been in her office's mail slot when she'd arrived, studying it- they usually color-coded these things so that you didn't even have to open the file to know what it was about; if you knew the code. The folder didn't have the bold stripe of black along the top that meant that the contents needed to be viewed as quickly as possible and the details of the mission hadn't been sent over the comm links to her, so like Stephanie had said it didn't seem urgent. Maybe it was finally just a simple scouting mission- Bluehorse envied those agents- they just got to go explore new worlds; although if Bluehorse ever got to go on a scouting mission like that she'd probably end up with a gun, or an equally dangerous weapon pointed at her face in the first five minutes. That was just her luck.
The folder was a simple, clean white- a solo mission then, it wasn't a call to a meeting- the emblems they embossed on the corner near the plastic tab were missing; these were used to suggest which agents might be attending a meeting, sometimes agents got held up in other meetings or were off in another dimension and couldn't make it back. She usually got the packets for the meetings days before they were going to be held; so this must be the folder that held the mission statement to go along with the supply list. The plastic tab held a single, thin sheet of paper in it, red on one side- orange on the other; Bluehorse hummed in curiosity, it wasn't every day that she worked in multiple Similar dimensions on one mission, maybe it was a scouting mission- just not the exploration kind. A whole list of possibilities flew through the warrior's mind as she turned the file folder over looking for anymore identifying marks, nothing else- as expected. Intrigued she flipped the cover open to reveal a tidy stack of papers; the mission statement itself, other agents' reports, a copy of the supply list, and any information on the dimensions and the situations she'd be stepping into, a few sheets from the intelligence department, as well as a CD-ROM in a white envelope.
Bluehorse paused, it would take a little while for her computer to go through the routine scans for viruses and other harmful programs on the more than likely harmless disc and a bit longer to get into the complicated system of sorting through the data again and again to find anything that it might have missed. Running the same procedures several times before moving on to a different way of scanning the code of the disc for anything harmful. Then it would have to gradually reconnect itself to the agency's network and the whole cycle of checking and scanning would begin again on a larger scale. It'd take about half-an-hour for the computer to check the disc and make sure it was safe to run, and for her to go through the contents of the folder- after that she'd pick up her supplies and hit the road.
She moved her feet off of the desk and sat up in the chair, sitting the folder down calmly in front of her with one hand while she pulled out the envelope with the other. The sound of crinkling plastic and paper was loud in the quiet office as she removed the disc then sat it on top of the other documents as she turned the chair to face her computer. Grabbing the mouse she waved it back and forth across the desk until the computer awoke with a musical chime then began the process of entering passwords and getting the computer disconnected from the network for the scans. After she finished she grabbed the CD-ROM and leaned over to punch in the button that opened the disc drive- she sat the thing inside and tapped the button again, watching as the disc disappeared from view. The machine instantly began to hum warmly.
Sitting back up Bluehorse reached for the first page which was a report from the agency's intelligence center describing how they had received an audio clip from an anonymous X agent. The X agency and the Savior agency's relationship with each other was a bit difficult as the majority of the X agents worked for their own gain- unlike the Savior agents; otherwise the two agencies played pretty much the same role. Hiding the mystical creatures from view as these races wanted and protecting both humans and the Hidden races. Many X agents didn't know what their agency was up to and sometimes even those who did know chose to stay, as they saw that they were at least doing some actual good. Usually those that wanted to help their world and the other dimensions found themselves in positions where they did- consequently Bluehorse and the majority of the other Savior agents didn't see many of them, the superiors of the X agency liked to keep these agents blind to the fact that the Savior agency was pulling more of the weight in that department. Those leaders were power-hungry and were constantly fighting amongst themselves for the top places, and anytime something caught their eye outside of the X agency it was never a good thing. Since they were always searching for ways to make themselves stronger and more powerful, which more than a few times had meant trying to take down the Savior agency. Most X agents wouldn't have dreamed of asking the Saviors for help with anything, the animosity between the two groups made it hard to communicate with each other even over important events. Although it seemed like whatever had happened had been enough to push an agent into spilling a few secrets- likely their leaders had been too busy with their constant power struggles and had done nothing, either it hadn't been worth their time or there was nothing they could do- or maybe this was a problem that they couldn't handle.
"Let's see..." Bluehorse mumbled as she shuffled through the papers, eyebrows creasing in worry and seriousness as her blue-gray eyes traveled quickly from left to right across the pages. She continued to mumble incoherently to herself, only a few words actually making it out into the air as sound waves. "...reported sightings in one or more of following Minecraftian dimensions; R13, R27, R41... Okay- here it is. Mission statement- ...scout for signs of activity in dimensions listed...evaluate possible threat level, then report back to gather hunting team to exterminate corrupted individuals...protect inhabitants- of course...proceed with caution- defiantly. Investigate for possible signs of X agency survivors...if found and if possible bring back for debriefing; these agents are not to be harmed- avoid confrontation. Hmmm... Just the basics then? Not easy...but, alright." The agent was cut off as beside her the computer began to work a bit harder, she turned towards it in slight worry and annoyance at herself- it wasn't going to explode or spontaneously combust; it was just loading the disc.
"Great...I'm being paranoid today." Bluehorse commented sarcastically turning away and directing her attention back to the literature in front of her. As she read the warrior played with one of the high-tech watches she had strapped around her wrist, she wore two as like any secret agent the watches she owned contained small grappling hooks and could also function as watches and comm units. It was far more comfortable to have the weight spread out between both arms then it was to dangle by a single wrist, so like most Savior agents she wore two, plus it made for a good laugh when a new friend's eyes widened at the technology that was so stereotypical. They were identical; electric blue wristbands, black casings, and metallic blue faces- easy to set, easy to use, but- admittedly large and slightly bulky- which was fortunately the style these days. She fiddled with them absentmindedly, careful to not accidentally hit the panic button on the watch's side- loosening the band and rotating the whole thing around her wrist, only to tighten it back in its usual position and then do the whole thing again.
The agent was pulled away from the now scattered and disorganized pile of papers as the computer chimed eagerly. She sighed, as she pushed the folder off to the side to begin typing again. As she worked she reached down to scratch her arm only to remember the thick bandages wrapped around the limb in the space between wrist and elbow, this was the usual outfit she wore when she traveled to any Minecraftian dimension.
The bandages were mostly for style, though they gave her a bit of protection against thorns or similar plant-like structures- not to mention that they could come in handy when she actually managed to get injured, and they weren't bad at warding off the cold, but they still didn't get too warm in the summer. Minecraftians usually wore the same version of a preferred outfit every single day- it was odd to someone from another world, but at a base level Bluehorse understood it. If someone wore the same outfit- just different sets of clothes- they'd come to be recognized by not only their physical appearance but by their clothing as well. And if everyone did this, and had done this for as long as anyone could remember...well no one would question it. Bluehorse theorized that it had probably started as a combat strategy and then had just spread out as trend or tradition over time; since most Minecraftians had a thing for warfare or at least the art of it, ironic since aside from the mobs these dimensions were peaceful places. It was a bit odd, quirky- but, Bluehorse liked it.
To fit in she'd picked her outfit out a while back, before she'd even been sent to a Minecraftian dimension. Plain black tank-top with a high neck; sky-blue plaid, button-up over-shirt; dark blue jeans, slightly faded near the knees. And black-fingerless gloves that ended just after the first joint of her fingers, so that almost her entire hand was covered by the soft, black leather- only one of the gloves' fingers was missing completely and that was the one that should have covered her left ring finger, where her wedding band perched proudly instead. The gloves were perfect for climbing; protecting her hands from whatever surface she was climbing on, while leaving her fingertips out to help with her grip. The bandages were actually two separate layers of cloth- a thin layer of sky blue underneath a layer of jet black; and with the mid length sleeves on her shirt almost all the skin on her arms was covered.
Hiding the long scar from view, she didn't like to tell that story- didn't like to remember that night; and was only interested in proving to herself that she wasn't some bloodthirsty beast out to kill. No one that she didn't trust had or would ever learn the secret she kept locked away inside- she knew eventually she'd have to spit it out at some point to people she'd only just met. There'd always been at least the beginnings of friendship in the eyes of the people she had told, she'd always trusted them, and so far no one had thought any less of her. Maybe because she hadn't done what she'd been about to do- maybe because she hadn't killed her enemies like that, maybe because she had controlled herself in the end. But still there was always that doubt hanging in the back of her mind that wondered if she'd be able to control herself if she snapped like that again- even though she knew that would never happen. She had too much control now, over herself and her abilities. Bluehorse grimaced at the memories threatening to take over her mind, she had flashbacks occasionally- nightmares. No one knew about them but her husband, Jack; he was the only one who knew how bad they got.
With a click of the mouse she hit the play button and braced herself. It started out normally enough, an agent calling for assistance- panic, fighting, screams- all around chaos filling the background to the point where she could hardly hear the speaker, who was practically screaming into his comm unit. Every now and then though an angry metallic roar would punctuate the battle-themed cacophony, a sound that wasn't exactly as metallic as it was unnatural. The roars came from things that were dark and twisted, corrupted, ageless, evil; Bluehorse had seen and fought creatures exactly like these firsthand, but it sounded like the X agents hadn't. Brokens- and lots of them, Bluehorse shuddered as one human scream after another was cut off and victorious roars took their place; the speaker became more and more desperate as time went on. Bluehorse didn't want to imagine what it would be like to watch the team, her friends, her family- getting cut down in front of her by beasts that had no mercy, only killing for fun- and making the kills slow and painful as they could. She couldn't bear the thought of it, she didn't know if this team had been that close to each other, but if they had she couldn't imagine being the last one left to face these things alone, fear and grief eating away at whatever was left of sanity. He pleaded, prayed, and screamed for help- right down to saying goodbye to friends and family- apologizing- accepting apologies. The warrior slammed her fist down on the desk with gritted teeth and eyes filled to the brim with grief and rage caused tears, as the man screamed in absolute terror... And then was cut off with a heart-rending, crunching- snap.
