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"What in the world are these idiots doing?"

High up in her office, Head Intellect Mica groaned into her desk as she kept her eyes closed, her perpetual migraine wreaking havoc on her poor head as she resisted the urge to light yet another cigar from her personal stash. She had been going through the precious things faster than usual these days, and the next shipment she kept buying from a smuggler from Vestyge wouldn\'t come for another two weeks. As such, she had to keep her smoking habits to a minimum, even if her body wanted so badly for her to take a puff of stress relief on a stick.

Letting out another groan, Vesper opened her bloodshot eyes, her constant fatigue doing little to stop her from annoyingly going through the paperwork that was just given to her. Academic Marc had just detained this Alset girl... again... for somehow trying to sell her services to foreign sellswords without a permit, and she didn\'t know why such a report even came up to her desk in the first place.

Seriously, she had better things to do than to go through boring paperwork... Paperwork that really should\'ve gone to a secretary if she ever employed one.

"Curse your obsession with paperwork, Marc," Vesper grumbled. "Would it kill that old man to not stick to protocol for once?"

Despite knowing that it was probably nothing, the Head Intellect still found herself leafing through the report, casually skimming the unnaturally thick and concise document even though she knew it was mostly just filler. Why Academic Marc always filed his reports in triplicate, she didn\'t know, but she sure as hell wouldn\'t be caught dead not knowing anything that passed by her desk.

"Strange... These sellswords are a group of Somatics?"

Narrowing her eyes, Vesper found herself reading a particular part of the report that described these foreigners that Alset tried to associate with. Academic Marc had described the group to be rather more skilled than the average sellsword. They also sported clothing that would normally only be seen being worn by the Kattleynan upper class...

"This group..." Vesper breathed out, her fingers twitching as she searched for a cigar that wasn\'t there. "What are they after?"

Almost immediately, her mind jumped to the conclusion that they were Kattleynan spies. Even if the Academic\'s report said that all of their paperwork seemed solid, a part of her still felt like there was more to them than meets the eye. Surely, the fact that this Shizu girl was wearing what amounted to noble wear was more than enough to warrant such a reaction.

"And that\'s not to add to the general feeling of wrongness floating about..."

Shaking her head, Vesper found herself looking out at her beloved city of Centrax. Below, thousands upon thousands of her people were going about their daily lives, creating brand new innovations and molding themselves into functional members of society. There was just no other place as beautiful as Centrax, not even in Marquee...

Lately, however, she was getting mixed signals from her feelers out in the city. She didn\'t know what was wrong with them, but it only added to her growing list of people to watch throughout the city. Sure, her [Manifest] had a wide range, but there was only so much she could pay attention to at any given moment.

"And yet they\'re still running around out there, being both a nuisance and a credit to society at the same time..."

Clicking her tongue, the Head Intellect wanted so badly to go to the ground and meet these foreigners herself. While an Academic was vouching for their effectiveness, she still couldn\'t find it in herself to believe the reports until she saw them herself. From what she could glean, they were decent enough in doing their jobs, though some of them had seemingly escaped her notice somehow... There were just too many things that could get lost in transit through intermediaries, hence the reason why she refused to hire help for herself in the first place.

[*THUD!*]

Almost by instinct, Vesper dropped the papers and aimed her custom-made cane rifle at the newly-opened door to her office. Nobody just barged into her office without knocking. She made sure to instill that habit in any and all that would try and bother her in her solitude.

"H-Head Intellect! Don\'t shoot! I bear news!"

Her aim was true even as she held her weapon aloft, her finger on the trigger as she eyed the poor messenger standing in front of her. She knew that the poor man was just doing his job, but it still wouldn\'t hurt to be sure.

"What\'s the first rule of talking to me, messenger?" she barked out.

"I-It\'s to not waste your time!" the messenger stuttered aloud. "A-And to knock before entering your office!"

Vesper narrowed her eyes at the messenger a bit more, giving the man a pointed glare to see if he would crack. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Y-Yes, Head Intellect!"

Letting out a sigh, Vesper lowered her weapon, rolling her eyes as she gestured for the messenger to walk forward. Sitting down, she placed her head on her head as she propped herself up on the table.

"What is it then that prompted this urgency?" the Head Intellect groaned out in annoyance. "Come on. Spit it out."

"I-It\'s about one of your personal projects, Head Intellect," the messenger relayed, his anxiety rising off the charts with each word he spoke. "Project Strawman is starting to return a bizarre set of results..."

At the mention of the project, Vesper perked up, a bit of energy returning to her eyes as she put her mind to work.

"What kind of results?" she curiously asked.

"Well, you\'d have to see for yourself, Head Intellect," the messenger weakly replied.

Nodding at the poor man, the Head Intellect didn\'t bother giving him the go-ahead to leave before she left him in her office. Sure, there was a chance that he might rummage through her stuff, but everyone that knew her should know that she\'d always find out if they did such a thing. There was no escaping her notice, especially if it was close to her like her office.

Making her way within the administrative building, Vesper entered the monitoring area, where scrying projects such as Project Strawman were being observed and conducted.

"Head Intellect," one of the researchers greeted. "We\'ve been expecting-"

"Enough chat. Show me what\'s happening with Project Strawman," Vesper impatiently commanded. "I want to see these so-called bizarre results."

"Of course."

The researcher fiddled with the machines and kiosks found within the highly advanced monitoring room. Through a series of knobs and dials, the screen in front of them revealed the status of one of her pet projects, Project Strawman.

"As you can see, the results it\'s been throwing back at us have changed drastically in the span of a few hours," the researcher explained, pointing at the graphs and numbers that were on screen. "Its tracking device is still not working as intended, unfortunately, but we can only assume that the Vermes that the prototype is observing has either evolved or been subsumed by another of its stronger species."

Vesper squinted at the numbers she was seeing in front of her. Being her own innovation, Project Strawman was supposed to be able to tell them both the general strength and location of select Vermes that they throw the tracker on. It had been proved to work so far, what with them being able to track and monitor their subject Vermes with pinpoint accuracy. She was even about to order the project into mass production before the tracking component of the device suddenly broke on them. From there, she was forced to go back to the drawing board, her plans on upgrading it to be able to direct the pests shelved in the meantime.

"Strange..." Vesper thought aloud. "Looking at these numbers, it almost looks like whatever it\'s attached to has enough power to level a village on its own..."

While the creature\'s heartbeat and size were significantly slower and smaller than the Vermes it was first attached to, the fact that the tracker was giving them numbers that were well off the usual baseline was alarming, to say the least.

"We think that it might be an error, Head Intellect," the researcher postulated. "After all, all previous baselines indicate that no Vermes should be able to-"

"Where was this device\'s last known location?" Vesper cut him off, her mind whirring with possibilities.

The researcher fiddled with the controls for a bit before a set of coordinates popped up on the screen.

"It says here that it was last seen nearing the shores of Port Decima," the researcher replied.

Taking the information into account, Vesper hummed as her thoughts fed her conclusion after conclusion. Eventually, she settled with the one that made the most sense to her.

"This is no error," she mumbled out. "And I have a suspicion that the Vermes might be on land."

"On land? But that\'s-"

"Impossible? I don\'t think so," Vesper shook her head with a glare. "Continue monitoring Project Strawman. Keep me posted on any changes."

Without a word, Vesper made her way back to her office, another migraine already setting in as she sigh. She\'ll have to send a few Academics to investigate this, and there was still this nagging feeling in the back of her head that this wasn\'t the worst of what\'s to come.

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