The capital city was filled with buildings of varying sizes. However – among these structures – one or rather a multitude of connected buildings covered a large portion of the city.
Bricks pavements stretched across the entrances to each of the buildings but most were connected by lengthy corridors. And just above the main entrance, a number of aluminum letters hovered which read:
"REOC Black Ops Division Headquarters"
Suddenly, a young man wearing a white service uniform with golden accents began approaching the entrance. The glass doors slid open in his presence and let him inside the main lobby.
Stepping inside the familiar location, he scanned the area around him lazily.
The insulated walls of the expansive area sealed the people within from the outside. LED lights were drilled into the ceiling, illuminating the surroundings with a golden hue that reflected off the metallic surfaces of the walls.
In between, a few couches were stationed here and there as well small pots which contained green pants. The granite floor of the lobby flowed with numerous colors as if a master painter had stroked their brush across its surface.
Missio's eyes stopped near the reception as a pair of golden eye met his gaze.
Above the reception, the portrait of a young man with sparling red hair and flawless white skin was hung. A toga picta was wrapped around the figure's body as a golden laurel wreath sat atop his head like a crown.
Missio's eyes narrowed.
He knew the man in the mural well… too well.
Why wouldn't he know?
That man was his ancestor after all.
The Progenitor of the new Augustus – Romulus Augustus, dubbed 'The Last Monarch of Rome' by the senate and immortalized as Divus Romvlvs by them as well.
He sighed and shook his head slightly.
'Never gets old...'
Marching towards one of the corridors, he exited the lobby and traveled to the building across. He paced down the hallway as sunlight seeped through the corridors massive windows.
Eventually, he passed into the other building and stopped at a steel door. With a sigh, he glanced at the name embedded into its metallic surface.
"Lieutenant General of the Black Ops Division"
Stepping aside, Missio pulled out his earbud and pressed it against the sloped panel beside the steel door. After waiting for a few seconds, he heard a low ring.
[Lieutenant General Missio Augustus - Entry Authorized.]
Then, the steel doors parted with a low hum and he stepped inside
Walking towards the desk, he slid his fingers along its wooden surface before sitting down on the chair behind it. He sunk into his seat, exhaling heavily. Taking off his cap, he placed it on the wooden desk and leaned back in his seat.
He rocked on his chair for a while - bored out of his mind. Suddenly, he recollected the message the Prime Minister had left him that morning and called out to his trusty Ai assistant.
"Hey, Mythos."
Mythos awoke from its slumber, instantly responding to its master.
[Yes, sir?]
"Contact the Prime Minister." Missio ordered.
Mythos responded almost immediately.
[Calling the Prime Minister…]
Missio waited for a few moments, basking in the silence of the room. Until that silence was broken by the yawning of the Prime Minister.
"Lieutenant General... Good morning."
"Sir, what was that voice message you left me?" Missio inquired almost immediately.
"Oh, that? Yes, I discussed it with the Minister of Home affairs last night…" The prime minister coughed. "Haven't slept yet though."
Missio frowned.
"Then, tell me how you came to that conclusion?"
The Prime Minister's voice stopped for a moment before Missio heard a dry laugh in his ear.
"Ah, well, where do I begin? Perhaps something that would interest you most? You see, Lieutenant General… Assemblyman Dick Quartel has been acting quite suspicious for a while now… There had been extra cuts from the National budget every year, specifically from him but I never thought anything of it."
He drew a deep breath, opening his throat with a hoarse cough.
"Maybe something had gone wrong on their part or they simply didn't have enough resources but… this year that cut was too large and so… I did a little investigating."
Missio tilted his head, raising a brow.
"Shouldn't you have contacted the Colonel of the Police force? Why me?"
"I could have but I didn't want to because…" The Minister replied. "After a while of digging, I found a massive cut from the National budget…"
He paused for a moment as if he was wary of the words he was about to say. Then, a moment of contemplation later, he said in a deep voice:
"…from 19 years ago."
Missio's world froze. His eyes widened, a mix of shock and terror swirling in his pupils.
'19…years ago?'
His brain suddenly throbbed with immense pain. The Lieutenant General gritted his teeth, grasping his head. His heart pounded rapidly, on the verge of a panic attack. Drawing sharp breaths, he managed to calm himself down with the eerie tune of his Music Box.
Missio remained silent for a while. Then, the Lieutenant General of the Black Ops Division asked in a serious voice:
"Are you absolutely sure?"
The Prime Minister paused for a moment and then replied:
"Absolutely."
Leaning forward, a dark expression took over Missio's face as he furrowed his brows.
"…I'll send the Police force to handle this and then… I'll interrogate him… personally"
Missio's voice cracked, a sea of forgotten rage boiling within him.
"That's shouldn't be a problem, should it?"
The Prime Minister laughed.
"You are correct, Lieutenant General. Do whatever you please. This matter is now in your hands."
A grim smile craved itself into Missio's face.
"…Understood."
"Good. I hope you can bring satisfactory results."
The next moment, the call abruptly ended.
The Bereft sat in his office – alone like he had always thought he had been.
As the words of the Prime Minister kept circling his mind, his frustration began to boil. Then as the silence began consuming him, his hands trembled as a single word escaped his lips.
"Bastard."