"So, first thing's first," Jenna said, as Henrick still waited for his food. "After the DNA test come back, we have to go by my office. Just to pick up the proper paperwork."
"This is taking too long." Henrick lazily complained, slumping.
"It would be going faster if you hadn't eaten one of the cotton swabs."
"Give me food." Was all he said in response.
"Geez, you're acting like a kid." She said. "Well, you are a kid, but you can act a little more mature."
"What is DNA anyway?"
"You'll learn it in school." She waved him off. "I'm trying to think."
"Hmm." Was all he said. He leaned back in his chair, looking to the side. "I kinda want to see the rest of this place."
Jenna didn't reply to that, instead choosing to continue to look at the ground in deep thought. Henrick looked at the glass on the wall, staring into the eyes of his reflection. He knew it was him, but...it didn't feel like him. Still, it was only physical appearance. Most likely it held next to no weight in the grand scheme of things.
Wait, what was that?
"...no way to..."
"...claims of multiple..."
Henrick stood up and walked in front of the glass. He could hear the voices on the other side, talking among themselves about what he could only guess to be himself. He could see nothing but his reflection on the glass, but there were faint outlines of the people behind there. He focused his vision, and soon the image of him went away, replaced by thousands of vibrating colored lines against the background of black that formed the shapes of people. Henrick blinked looking back and forth between the shapes who hadn't seemed to notice him yet. Whenever one stopped talking, the lines seemed almost to disappear.
Does this only work on moving objects? He thought.
"I don't care how long it takes, keep him here until we find out what the hell's going on." This was a man's voice, obviously angry. Every time he spoke, his shape seemed to vibrate a little more.
"Chief, with all due respect, by law you can't keep him here. He's in her custody now, and-" The other male was interrupted.
"Look at all the fucks I give!" Henrick didn't like this man's tone. "Until the detective gets here, he stays in that room."
"Can you at least give me food before then?" Henrick said out loud.
"Henrick, get away from the glass," Jenna said absentmindedly. At the same time, the two men in the room turned to face Henrick.
"Was he talking to us?" The wimpy man said.
"Maybe. If he does have more than one gift, then it wouldn't be too far-fetched. Go make sure the detective is on his way, and get me a coffee. All this is giving me a headache." The Chief turned to the opposite direction. "And get him some goddamn food."
The two men left through separate doors, leaving Henrick just standing there by himself. And Jenna, he almost forgot about here.
"Henrick, I have another question for you." Henrick turned to Jenna.
"Yes?"
"Do you know you're power level?" She asked.
"My what?"
"So no." Jenna sighed. "You are the hardest case I've worked on yet."
"What is a power level?"
"It's a way of measuring maximum power in a person," Jenna said, rolling her hand as she explained. "How strong someone is compared to an average Gift-less adult."
"I see. And Gift-less is someone with no Gift I assume."
"You assume correctly," Jenna said, smirking and stretching. "My power level is 2, so I'm twice as powerful as a Gift-less adult."
"I see," Henrick said. "And what is mine?"
"You think I'd have asked you if I knew? You need a person with a Sensing Gift to measure power. Fortunately for you, they have someone like that in this department."
"And I'm guessing that's the detective they were talking about."
"...who?"
"The Chief and someone else, I heard most of their conversation from behind the glass."
"One, it's rude to listen in on a conversation without permission."
"Oh, I see. I apologize."
"And two, how?"
"I have good hearing."
"...Of course, you do. In any case, you're just going to have to sit there and wait until they're ready."
"I understand," Henrick said, sitting down back on his chair.
"In the meantime, we should get to know each other."
Elsewhere
.
.
.
A video screen was blinking in the darkness, showing the fight between Henrick and the meta-soldier that was supposed to grab the Hofferson descendant. Stopped on the exact moment the robot was destroyed. The pure look of boredom that was displayed on the boy's face was infuriating to one of the viewers...and exciting to the other.
"What should we do, master?" The deep, scratchy voice said from out the darkness, full of rage. There was silence for a few seconds following this.
"I...I knew him."
"M-Master?"
"He has the blood of the old gods in him."
"But, the old gods died."
"Yes...but he is a lot older than he appears. There is something...different about this one. He could...expand my empire, or my power...preferably both."
"Master, he is a simple mortal. He is not worthy of that place."
"And who is...you?"
"N-no, master, of course not. I am a simple servant. And as such I will not let a being such as him-"
"Hildisvini...my husband is dead...my children are dead...yet me and him...we survive...there must be a reason for this...perhaps, the universe does indeed want the old gods back."
"Master..." The deep voice was full of sorrow for its master.
"I watched all but me burn. He is a part of this as much as you or Loki. I wish to speak to him. Please."
"...Of course, Freyja. But first, wish to witness the full extent of his power. If he is truly worthy of what you require."
"...I will be patient."
.
.
.
"Hello, Henrick." The detective smiled. A chubby man with a missing front tooth, every "h" he pronounced had a slight whistle to it. Most of the other teeth were singed yellow. Even a few feet in front of him, Henrick could smell a rotten scent from where he sat. If he had to describe it in one word, he would have to say "sick."
"Hello." He had been led to a different room, almost indistinguishable from the last one. He wondered why they didn't just leave him in the last one, but he didn't care enough to ask. He was still a little upset that they had interrupted his talk with Jenna.
"First thing's first, I'm just going to ask you some basic questions, very by the books in this situation."
"Okay."
"First thing's first...what connection do you have to the Gate?"
"None that I know of."
"So are you saying you could?"
"Possibly. I have no memory outside of the past couple of days."
"I see. Very convenient for you, is it not?"
"Not really. Quite annoying really."
"Hmmm. Indeed." The detective wrote some things down on a pad with a pen. "So you say you have no memory?"
"That is correct."
"But you know your name."
"Yes." The detective glanced up at Henrick, ceasing his writing for a moment.
"Very selective, your amnesia."
"No, I was given this name by a friendly fisherman."
"A fisherman? Really?" Henrick nodded. "May I have his name?"
"Ahbram. He said I could borrow this name until I learned mine."
"He was one of the crews who found you if I'm not mistaken." He looked down at the paper and continued. "All alone in the Arctic. Do you know what you were doing there?"
Henry took a moment to think over what had happened and find the right words.
"I believe the group that found me were attempting to torture me."
"...The fishermen?"
"No, the others. They found me originally when I woke up, and I left shortly after they attempted to cut me multiple times."
"Henrick, this is a very serious accusation. Now, according to statements from everyone else, this is the first you ever mentioned that."
"They never asked," Henrick said.
"I see. Could you tell me who captured you?"
"There were soldiers, and a man named Dr. Trost. Their building had multiple insignia's of golden arrow triangles."
"Soldiers could be Gate, but those arrows don't seem familiar. They say anything about they meant?"
"Something about representing parts and wholes. I wasn't really interested, they kept trying to cut me open."
"Is that right? And what happened after that?"
"I got annoyed and left."
"Just like that. I thought it would be pretty hard to escape a situation like that."
"It was. I couldn't find the door."
"Hmm...welp, I think that's all I got for you." The detective flipped through the notebook. Henrick looked down at the little notepad across from him, with scribbles all across the pages. "Thank you for your cooperation. I will get back to you as soon as possible."
"Okay," Henrick said. The detective stood up, straightening his coat.
"Until then, we will need you to stay here. For safety reasons, of course, I hope you understand."
"No problem," Henrick said, as the detective packed his stuff (his only possessions being the pen and notebook) and walked out the door directly behind Henrick.
With a click, the young man was left alone sitting at the table. He sat in silence for a moment, before he started tapping on his legs.
"So, Lowry." The Chief asked. The detective, Lowry, lit a cigarette right in the office, putting it up to his mouth.
"Yeah, Chief?"
"You believe his story?" The detective blew out a plume of smoke straight up into the ceiling, letting it out with a small chuckle.
"Course not. Then again, I wasn't paying much attention. Just trynna get a grasp on his power level."
"And what did ya get on that front?"
"It's weird. I saw the security footage of this kid, and from that alone, he had to have a power level of thirty. But in that room, I couldn't feel anything higher than a one from him."
"One?" The Chief asked, sitting back in his chair. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Trust me, I don't understand it either, but my feelings ain't ever wrong."
"...Could he be hiding his power level?" The detective scoffed at that.
"Not from my gift. It's too precise. Same thing as if he was hiding it." The detective inhaled a lungful of cancer smoke. He had contemplated many times quitting, but it was too stress-relieving. Plus, it drove people crazy. So what if it had a side-effect of cancer? He would go out having fun rather than being healthy.
"Well, he's definitely not an Artificial. I don't see any other explanation for this."
"What if his power level just changes?" It was the Chief's turn to scoff.
"People have limits. You can't just raise and lower your limits at will. And even if you could, to change your own power level that drastically is unheard of." The detective blew out his smoke.
"Unheard of," Lowry said, looking at the ceiling. "Not impossible."
"It just doesn't make any sense, but..." The Chief trailed off, staring into the middle distance in thought. He was reminded of a certain killer two years ago. "Regardless, we can't let him go yet, even if he is just a kid."
"Are we even sure he's a kid? He sure looks 16, but we know nothing besides the very un-credible story he told us earlier and a few witness accounts, half of which have already left."
"Wait, you let them leave?! Lowry, you have to keep the witnesses here by law until full statements can be provided!" Lowry shrugged, causing the Chief ton sigh. "I'll figure it out soon enough. For now, his case is still considered under investigation. Keep him here, at least, and get in touch with those other witnesses. Make sure none of them have left the province yet."
"Actually, I have to go on that drug bust case you put me on, remember?" Lowry said. "Don't you have the help for that grunt work?" The Chief sighed.
"Please don't refer to my staff as 'the help.'" The detective rolled his eyes. The Chief sighed again at the detective's behavior, reaching over and pressing the mic on his intercom. "SINGH! GET IN HERE!" He yelled into the intercom, his deep voice blasting out all over the station.
"Nice," Lowry said, putting out his cig. "Now I gotta act like I'm following the rules."
"Or you could actually follow them in the first place?" The Chief suggest.
"Suuuure. And next, you'll give up drinking." The detective said, rolling his eyes.
"Lowry." The Chief said in a warning tone, that not even Lowry would say anything against. At that moment, the door to the Chief's office opened, revealing a properly dressed officer who was standing at attention.
"You called sir!" Singh yelled enthusiastically.
"Come here, I have an assignment for you."
