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You might not know Finnish, but you know that's not the name of any type or class of creature at all. That sounds like a nickname. The fact that this aberrant creature deserves a <span class="mu-i">name</span> to the eyes of people meant to kill them does not sit well.
“It will be discussed with you and all the others in more practical briefings. There's a lot you need to know about down there,” she dismissed. “For now, we will not allow new agents in the field. When you're ready to go take it on, we will tell you.”
The vehicle had begun to move, and as you began to ruminate on the kinds of creatures that lurked in beneath the roads upon which you travelled and what could come thrashing up through the grates and maul the bus itself, the operator asked you a question. “Why have you come here? I had my reasons for my migration, but I don't imagine you had an interest in the well-being of the Finns.”
The question has your tongue for a moment. Any answer you are prepared to give that explains anything comes off as really immature and silly. But there's ways around that. “I... wanted the benefits that being a Level 3 Agent held.”
She analyzed your face. You could feel her, picking apart the meaning of your words and judging them. Anyone would be bashful. But to this you finally got that smirk. “L3 takes a lot of work to get to. Commitments. I hope you're ready to make them, and if you need help... or if you just want to talk about things, I can help. That's my job. Helping.”
Her reassuring words melt your heart a bit. You can barely mutter a thank you before you realize you've arrived. Cities are big places, but that was quick.
Offloading yourself and your luggage, you are too close to the building to get a good look from the outside. It isn't long before you and the others are led within and you begin to see it. Stormworks HQ. A gargantuan structure dripping wires which feed into the latticed dome exterior, situated within the center of an impressive garden. Creatures of all sorts can be seen from your path through, docile and domesticated. Such levels of nature in living areas are familiar to you, but everything is so clean, clear cut, and sterilized. Through windows you can see the pale white meeting rooms, common areas, and sometimes even living quarters, even underneath grassy patches. Much of the facility is underground, it seems. Fitting.
It won't be hard to stay outside your room, at least.
Overslept big time, still writing
