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There's been a rumor that there's a <span class="mu-b">anomaly</span> inside there. Nothing physical, like what you're used to, but something more metaphysical. Abstract, you would say.
There's something hidden amongst the paperwork that's been hampering with ARC's ability to digitize the old, ancient files inside. Something that seems to be trying to guard the paperwork inside for some unexplained reason.
The only thing he knows about it, he admits, is that he feels uncomfortable even acknowledging the room. His <span class="mu-b">heartbeat twists</span> every time he passes by it, he says.
Hm. Could it be related to the heart in your dreams? It might be worth investigating; maybe you can figure out why that Heart seems so fascinated with you.
You thank the two for their time. You finish up your meal before getting up, ready to deal with the two new faces that caught your eye earlier. You hope you'll be able to deal with whatever weird nonsense they're going to throw at you.
You soon arrive at the table where the two agents are seated. The slick-haired man is too busy nursing his bottle to pay any real mind to anything around him. The masquerade-masked woman turns to face you as you approach the table.
"Good evening. Whom am I speaking with?" She speaks with a peculiar accent. Her words have a low, regal flourish that you can't decide if it's funny or creepy. "I do not recognize you. A new face that is trapped within the sanguine bowels of this metallic labyrinth." A blend of pity and clinical interest lingers in her gaze.
"Jeez, Mox." The slick-haired man breaks his gaze away from the bottle. "Let the man speak." He lets a small tone of disappointment creep into the air.
"I may speak however I wish, Edward." At least you know their names now, but you already feel a bit unwelcome here. Their conversation is already shifting away from you.
"I get and respect that, but look." He puts his bottle down. "We have to be professional when we're talking to the staff here. ARC standards are in the dumpsters these days." He cracks a smile as if he thought of something funny.
"Half of the people in this facility are willing to kill on a moment's notice, and the other half? They'd just eat the casualties. Probably better than whatever slop they serve here."
Mox adjusts the mask on her face, drinking in Edward's words. "I suppose you are right to an extent, Edward. I still believe the man owes me an answer."
"Vincent." You mutter out. "I just wanted to talk to you guys, that's all."
"Talk's all I got." Edward chuckles at his own joke. "Not like I got anything else to my name. Unless you think a few useless college degrees are worth something."
"You're one to speak about professionalism, yet your own behavior contradicts that. How trite." You can't tell if Mox is actually angry or if she's just making fun of him.
"Ahh, c'mon. Relax. At least while you're with me, you're not dealin' with Hoffman and Cantwell." "True."
Well, these two are weird, but weird is good. Right?
