The Cipher: Locks and Keys

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the city lights creeping in through the massive window. Sir Afro stood, motionless, staring at the sprawling metropolis beneath him. His broad, muscular frame seemed even more imposing in the shadow, his silhouette reflecting against the glass. The city's distant hum contrasted sharply with the oppressive silence of the room, amplifying the tension that hung in the air.

Yuri stood behind him, his breath shallow. He could feel the weight of failure crushing his chest as he fidgeted with his hands. His mind raced, grasping for excuses, but he knew none would suffice. The silence dragged, pulling him deeper into the pit of dread. Sir Afro had not turned to face him, but Yuri could feel the heat of his scrutiny.

"You failed to retrieve it," Sir Afro's voice finally broke the silence, calm but edged with the cold bite of disappointment. "What's your excuse?"

Yuri swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He looked up, watching Sir Afro's back remain as still as a statue, eyes still fixed on the city. A lump formed in Yuri’s throat as panic clawed at his insides. He opened his mouth, but the words stuck.

Suddenly, Sir Afro turned to face him. His cold, piercing gaze met Yuri’s eyes, and the sheer force behind the stare sent a chill down Yuri's spine. The man’s towering presence seemed to suck the air from the room. The muscles in Sir Afro's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable but fierce. Every second that passed felt like an eternity.

Yuri’s knees felt weak. He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to meet that cold stare any longer. I’m fucked, he thought. I knew I wouldn’t escape this easily.

The pressure in the room rose with each passing heartbeat. Sir Afro’s voice, when it came, was more of a low growl than speech. “Do you want me to repeat my question?”

Yuri flinched as though struck. His hands trembled, and he quickly pulled them behind his back, trying to steady himself. “W-we got overpowered," he stammered, struggling to speak over the knot in his throat. "And... there was a third party who had entered before us. I have no information on them."

Sir Afro turned his back to him once more, gazing out at the city through the large window. His reflection flickered faintly in the glass, his powerful frame blending with the shimmering skyline. The city stretched endlessly before him, but his eyes saw nothing but failure. He folded his arms, his broad shoulders barely moving as he breathed.

The silence was suffocating, pressing down on Yuri with a force that made his knees tremble. He wanted to leave, to escape that gaze—even if Sir Afro was no longer looking at him, he felt it.

"And who was the second party?" Sir Afro asked, his voice low, heavy, cutting through the thick air like a blade.

Yuri’s heart raced, his mouth suddenly dry. He glanced nervously around the room as though searching for a lifeline, but none came. “It… it was the Red Blood,” he finally blurted out. “Along with their leader.”

A short silence followed, even heavier than the last. Yuri's pulse pounded in his ears, each second stretching unbearably. Then, without warning, Sir Afro broke the stillness with a simple, cutting command.

"Leave."

Yuri hesitated for a moment, unsure if he had truly heard it, but the cold finality in Afro's tone left no room for doubt. He turned on his heel and hurried to the door, his back still damp with sweat, eyes wide and heart pounding in his chest.

The door shut behind him, sealing the silence once again. Sir Afro remained, unmoving, staring at the endless horizon as the night settled deeper over the city.

Yuri stumbled out of the room, his breath finally catching in his throat. He leaned against the wall, heart pounding in his chest as though he'd just sprinted for miles. The tension that had gripped his entire body slowly loosened, but the faint tremor in his hands remained.

"I can't believe I got out of there in one piece," he muttered under his breath, wiping cold sweat from his brow. His mind raced, replaying Afron's icy gaze and the suffocating pressure that filled the room like a tangible force. "I don't know if the gods just decided to bless me today, or if I’m stupidly lucky."

He shook his head, the weight of the moment still pressing down on him. As expected from a hire-up, the sheer presence in that room was enough to crush an ordinary human.

Yuri knew he wouldn’t forget this feeling anytime soon.

Afron stepped into the elevator, his expression stoic, concealing the turmoil beneath the surface. He pressed the button for the 11th floor—the last floor. The hum of the elevator was the only sound in the otherwise silent building, a mechanical heartbeat climbing through the dimly lit structure.

The door slid open, revealing a long hallway. The air was heavy and cold, the walls seemingly closing in with the weight of silence. The only light came from a flickering bulb at the end of the corridor, casting a faint glow over the lone door at the far end. The path was unsettling, as if the hallway itself was holding its breath.

Afron straightened his shoulders and walked forward, each step echoing against the walls. Reaching the door, he pressed a small button, a quiet chime resonating through the corridor. He waited. The silence was thick, oppressive. Then, the door creaked open, revealing a room blanketed in shadow—a place where light dared not enter. Papers were scattered across the floor, and the air carried a faint, stale scent. The darkness swallowed most details, making it hard to tell where the room began or ended.

“Grand Architect, it is I, Afron,” he announced, his voice barely cutting through the thick silence.

A rustle from within the black void of the room. Then, a soft, yet commanding voice responded, “Shh... I’m reading. I need no disturbance.”

Afron hesitated. The voice sounded far too young for its title—a teenage voice, chilling in its composure. He couldn’t see the speaker, only sense their presence in the darkness, lurking like a shadow behind shadows.

“The Beta Vault got into the wrong hands,” Afron continued carefully, keeping his voice low, cautious. “The threat and containment team failed to get the job done.”

The room went still, the pause stretching long enough for Afron to feel the weight of his own breathing.

“Weren't you the one who personally recommended the threat and containment team?” The voice pierced the silence, laced with irritation. No facial expression was needed to convey the sheer contempt dripping from each word. “And yet, here you are. Without the Beta Vault.”

Afron swallowed, his gaze lowering to the ground, unseen in the shadow. “I am sorry for my failure, Grand Architect. I will personally fix this.”

Silence again. Then the voice spoke, softer this time, yet colder than the deepest winter. “The only reason you’re still breathing is because you are one of the Universal Wielders. Without that power, you would have been dead long before you were ever born.”

The words cut deep, sending an involuntary chill down Afron’s spine, as though a dagger made of ice had grazed the back of his neck. The unseen presence in the room shifted, and though Afron could see nothing, he swore the atmosphere thickened—a palpable aura of hostility, as if death itself had brushed against him.

“Send Golder,” the voice said finally, the command ringing with finality. “He will clean up your mess.”

Afron flinched, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. He felt it—that overwhelming sense of dread, a pulse of menace that radiated from the voice. No, a killing intent, so subtle yet so suffocating that for a moment, Afron’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yes,” he murmured, barely able to speak as he took a step back, retreating from the room. “I’ll send Golder.”

Without waiting for any more words, Afron quickly left, the oppressive air clinging to him like a second skin. As the door closed behind him, he hurried back to the elevator, his steps faster than when he’d arrived. Once inside, he pressed the button for the lower floors, and as the doors slid shut, he exhaled for the first time since stepping into that room.

Alone in the descending elevator, Afron couldn’t shake the unease creeping into his thoughts. How could someone so young, someone who had barely crossed into their teens, radiate such an aura of dominance and fear? What kind of being… His mind drifted into unsettling places.

He stood there, in the cold confines of the elevator, and for the first time in years, Afron felt something unfamiliar—fear.

The room was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the tension that buzzed in the air. Yuri stood at the front of the table, his posture tense, his eyes darting between the two rookies who had just arrived. Emma, her long black hair neatly tied back, sat calmly at one end of the table, her eyes sharp and observant. Despite being new, her confidence radiated, as if she had already measured the room. Lee, a year younger, sat at the opposite end, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with something more reserved—carefully controlled.

Yuri cleared his throat, his gaze flicking between them. "I've called this meeting because we have a new case that requires immediate attention." His voice was steady, but the weight of the task was clear. "As you may have heard, the WCM is investigating Lockey."

Lee kept his expression neutral, though his pulse quickened at the mention of Lockey's name. He had known something like this was coming, but the fact that he wasn’t leading the investigation meant the higher-ups were suspicious. His thoughts were interrupted as Yuri turned to him.

"You were considered for this investigation, Lee," Yuri continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, "but the case was assigned to someone else." He gestured toward Emma, who sat up a little straighter. "Emma will be handling the primary oversight. We need fresh eyes on this."

Lee glanced at Emma, sizing her up. He had heard of her—everyone had. She was the newest prodigy, a talented rookie with sharp instincts and no shortage of ambition. But this was the first time they were meeting face-to-face.

Emma gave a slight nod, her eyes assessing him in return. "I’ve reviewed the case details," she said, her voice calm but precise. "My objective is to gather intelligence on Lockey and report back. No personal biases or connections."

Lee felt a subtle jolt, but he quickly schooled his features. "Understood," he replied evenly, careful to hide his emotions. "I’m just here to support the investigation, nothing more."

Yuri’s gaze lingered on Lee for a moment longer, as if measuring the sincerity of his words. The room grew tense, the unspoken question hanging in the air—was Lee too close to Lockey to be trusted?

Lee shifted in his seat, recognizing the importance of this moment. He straightened, his voice firm. "As a member of the WCM, my loyalty is to the organization, not to personal relationships. I won’t compromise this investigation, no matter what ties I might have had." He locked eyes with Yuri, his expression unwavering.

Yuri nodded, seemingly satisfied with the pledge, but a glint of doubt remained in his eyes. "Good. Because this is bigger than just a personal connection, Lee."

Emma watched the exchange, her face unreadable but clearly alert. She had heard whispers of Lee and Lockey’s connection, though nothing concrete. Still, the WCM didn’t deal in rumors; they dealt in results.

"I’ll make sure to keep things professional," Emma said, her voice cutting into the silence, as she glanced briefly at Lee. "This investigation is critical. We can't afford any mistakes."

Lee nodded, though inwardly he bristled at the implication. He wasn’t here to defend Lockey—he knew better than to do that in this setting. Instead, he would listen, gather what information he could, and keep his own suspicions close to the chest.

Yuri, sensing the tension had lessened, shifted his focus back to Emma. "You’ll have full access to the resources needed. Report directly to me once you have something substantial."

Emma stood, her black hair falling over her shoulders as she collected the files from the table. "Understood, sir." She glanced at Lee once more before heading toward the door. "I’ll get started right away."

As she left, Lee leaned back in his chair, finally allowing himself to exhale. The room seemed lighter now, but the weight of the situation had just settled fully onto his shoulders. He knew this investigation could either clear Lockey—or unravel everything.

Yuri stood up and placed a hand on Lee’s shoulder. "Just be careful, Lee. The higher-ups are watching closely, and they’ll be looking for any reason to doubt your loyalty."

Lee met Yuri’s gaze, his voice low but resolute. "I won’t give them one."

Lockey stared at his phone, the message from Lee blinking on the screen: “Important message. Meet me at the cafeteria.” He arrived at the cafeteria, scanning the room until he spotted Lee, his expression tense.

“Thanks for coming,” Lee said, glancing around before leaning in closer. “I need to talk to you about something serious.”

Lockey nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “What’s going on?”

Lee hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “There’s an investigation happening… on you. The WCM suspects you’re still connected to the Beta Vault.”

Lockey’s stomach dropped. “But I’m not! I cut ties with them a while ago.”

Lee studied him, relief washing over his features. “That’s a relief. What did you do with it?”

“I gave my energy back to the owner,” Lockey replied, his voice steady despite the chaos inside.

“Oh, that’s a relief; it’s no longer with you,” Lee said, his tone softening but then shifting back to seriousness. “But there’s more. There’s a girl, a student named Emma. She’s a second division officer like me. She’s going to be keeping a close eye on you.”

“Emma huh?” Lockey echoed,

“She’s seventeen, almost got my position, but it transferred to her instead,” Lee explained, the weight of the situation evident in his voice. “I think they’re using her to gather intel on you.”

Lockey’s mind focused intently. “I see”

Lee’s expression darkened as he prepared to leave. “Just be careful. The higher-ups are involved in this Vault case for some reason, and that’s… frightening. Keep your guard up, Lockey.”

Lockey nodded, feeling the gravity of Lee’s warning settle over him. “I will. Thanks for the heads up, Lee.”

“Always,” Lee replied, a brief smile breaking through before he walked away, leaving Lockey with the chilling knowledge that he was being watched.