Locke had turned in his seat after his hand was returned to him to watch the interaction of the people who had come in. Another recruit, a redhead much like himself, an S1 agent who had a rather frightening presence and a man who had burst in rather late. The last one had the presence of a caffeinated squirrel, babbling and going on about silly things with a sense of intelligence. It was a silly sight, but Locke held in his smile.

"So, that means the rest is with Agent Trusz Muir! You know, it's really a great honor to work with him! He knows a lot so..."

Huh. This'll prove to be an interesting group. Locke thought, slightly amused. He was stuck with Mr.I'm an S1, But I Am Normal Agent Too, Gods Gift to Humanity and lil' Miss Newbie. It was about here when he spoke up to his group.

"I look forward to working with all of you." he said, bowing his head lightly. Another polite answer today? Damn! I'm doing good.

accessdeniedKanon had barely begun to adjust to the amount of people around her, when the fact that she would be trained in a four man cell became clear to her. Her mind was instantly flooded by a train of thoughts. Three people would be working with her? It could be a good or a bad thing...On one hand, if all the mentors were hardworking and fairly able to handle themselves, Kanon would be totally fine with the situation. On the other hand, if they were chaotic and foolish agents, then Kanon would have a problem with it.

accessdeniedIt was then that a caramel skinned male strode into the room, surrounded by a rather laid back aura. Kanon nodded acknowledgement to him, and listened quietly to what he had to say. Though it was voiced in a disorganized fashion, the point still got across. Kanon would be paired with three others in order to jump into the hang of things with more ease. Since the redhead rookie was to be paired with agents Gear, Reindhart, and the just arrived Maalik, Kanon was to be assigned with Locke, Wen, and Acaelus. An audible sigh echoed from her lips; Kanon could stand being paired with Locke and Acaulus, but considering the rather braggadocios personality that Wen had previously exhibited, Kanon couldn't say she was particularly pleased.

accessdeniedAh, well. I'll live, she thought to herself, It won't be too bad... She then directed her attention to Maalik, "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

It wasn't long after Agent Maalik arrived that a dark-haired, dark-eyed officer walked into the room, his expression cool with mechanical professionalism.

"I am Officer Kai and I will be your handler for this mission. Everyone, please have a seat..."

---

GENERAL SET-UP POST

MISSION: COLLECTOR'S PRIZE (AGENT MAALIK)
MISSION: GUNS-A-BLAZING (AGENT TRUSZ MUIR)

---

"Information concerning the case have also been sent to your inboxes. I trust that there won't be any problems." And, just as he had walked in, Officer Kai walked out without so much as a "how are you today?"

But this was something the new graduates would simply have to become accustomed with.

To say Alarick was displeased with the group that he was assigned to allude to the fact that he actually managed to have such thought conceived in his mind. The man rarely every seemed to be in a darkened mood about anything anymore, and found that the further he stayed away from negative emotions that it was inevitably easier to deal with life. Unfortunately Agent Gear would be a near constant drain on his moral integrity, Agent Quilliam would be a drain on his patient, and Agent Maalik would be- well- probably substantially more bearable.

Yet what Alarick couldn’t offer complaint about was the fact that he was out on the field even if it was with three other agents (one of them a G), and out on some superfluous mission. “Art thieves really? Don’t they have normal people capable of doing that? Isn’t it bad news sending synergists in there that can use water and fire?” He asked- well- no one. Currently he was lying on his leather chaise in his condo and speaking to his cat who gave him a distinct look of: ‘shut the **** up and feed me’.
“If you insist Mister Grey, but I assure you- your waistline is not thanking you with these extra cans of tuna.”

THE DAY OF THE MISSION:
If he thought the mission read in a black and white manner of boredom then the mission itself was somewhat flaccid. Berlin was not the ‘out-of-Halcyon’ destination that Alarick would have cared for, and he cared for it less once he was there. The only spot of this gloomy place was the fact that it was truly gloomy in all aspects, and that lent him some help in his synergy department. Ah cloudy days were the best, because all clouds contained moisture and he could manipulate said moisture to cause quite the downpour. So at least he had a backup weapon. Which might be helpful if Agent Quilliam was the loose cannon that most accendo agents seemed to be.
“Ah chilly weather, warehouses all around us, the sound of malevolence in our ears- what a beautiful setting Berlin is.” Alarick stated in sarcasm- obviously. While he leaned on his cane it was more for show than actual therapeutic value. He just had a limp, and it could be worked through once adrenaline started moving as they engaged the enemy. It was also of some use that the cane had a sword imbedded in it- making it both heavier than it should be and deadlier than it appeared. He brought a hand to his glasses and tapped the frame, and clicked through the area maps that had been uploaded before he left. “It seems as if there is unusually high traffic in the Northern quarter of these warehouses. I’m suspecting that they might plan to start auctioning it off- to you know- illegal buyers and what not.” It was then he pointed forward. “One block forward and two to the left.”
It was then he gave Gear a small smile. “Started doing some intel of my own.”
It was then he pressed his digit to the advanced glasses and the faint sheen of cerulean left them as they actually back to their use. “Or we could head to the Berlin airport and book a trip to the Caribbean. My intel also tells me that they are nice this year.”
“Any takers?”
“Nope?”
Alarick offered a slight smile after that.

Agent Maktub Maalik had never worked with any one from his current team, but he had done his homework on each and every member.

First, there was the graduate—Skylar Quilliam, 21 and born with a known temper. Then, there was Alarick Reindhart, 32 and put out of commission since 5612. Like a good, thorough agent, Maalik had read through the files. He knew Skylar's exact grades in everything from classical history to algebra. He knew about every write-up she had received and every altercations she was cited for. He even knew how much her parents made. So, he definitely knew about the physical condition of Alarick and the story behind it—behind the loss of a fast-track career.

“Ah chilly weather, warehouses all around us, the sound of malevolence in our ears—what a beautiful setting Berlin is."

Maalik grinned at the observation, but said nothing. This was also his first time in Berlin and the depilated warehouses, the rusted machines, and the general stench of old was far from pleasant, pretty Halcyon.

'He probably hasn't left Halcyon in the past two years.' And the thought was a sobering one. 'This is his first mission in two years...' Turquoise-eyes glanced over at the cane and the blackness of the piece reminded Maalik of the last member of his team and his connection with Reindhart.

Gear—Agent Kyle Alan Gear—was a friendly face in a sea of unfamiliar people. But Maalik wasn't the only one who shared a connection with the brunette. And the very thought of it made Maalik frown. If he had known about this relationship, he would have demanded a change in line-up, but this was an evaluation mission—a "mock" assignment that he could have easily finished on his own.

(Not to mention, the Captain of SA would have laughed him out of his office. This was a low-priority, low-level mission that anyone with half-a-brain could accomplish. It wasn't something that required rocket scientists.)

"Maybe after the job is done, Agent Reindhart," Maalik grinned widely at the other man. "Well, now that we're here, let's set some ground rules. First, we stick together. Second, we avoid any and all civilian casualties." He looked at each of their faces, his eyes searching theirs for a glimmer of understanding. "The latter should be easy because we're in an industrial area. Not very many people, as you guys can see."

Looking away, Maalik looked over to where Reindhart had mentioned. It seemed likely that the stronghold would be over there—lots of buildings, lost of cover. "Agent Gear, I want you to scout around, but keep within cover. Report everything you see."

In addition to the winter-time SA uniforms (which were just the same as the regular uniforms, but made with a thicker, heat-entrapping material), the group had been given headpieces (think bluetooth!) for easy communication and a watch-like accessory for map-awareness and GPS. "As for the rest of us, just be on guard for anything suspicious.

"Alright? Well, then, let's go." And, with that, he started walking towards the direction Reindhart had mentioned.

Even though Maalik was a little worried about the team dynamic, his concerns were put on the back burner. This was an easy mission—an easy way to teach the graduate mission basics and, as a fringe benefit, a nice way for Reindhart to slip back into field duty.

Los Angeles—the city of angels—was a decrepit and dirty place. Everything looked worn and standing on its last leg. Everything looked ready to fall apart at the word "Go." And District-Base 6 was no exception.

"Talk about run-down," Wen let out a low whistle as he peered over the edge of the rooftop and down into the cracked, weed-strewn roads below. "Why would any gang want to run this place? You couldn't even give this place to me."

He laughed as he stepped away from the edge and returned to the group, his character decidedly relaxed. "So, what is the game plan? We can't really just go running into the building, demanding the arrest of... ah, Candy Pops."

When Wen had first heard the name of the gang leader, he had to mentally and physically will his body from combusting in laughter. Over the years, he had seen and heard a lot of weird, unusual things, but this one was just absurd.

For starters, "Candy Pops" wasn't even threatening.

"I mean, judging from intel, we already know it's going to be painful to try and brute-strength our way through the compound. We also don't know how many people are inside and what kind of firepower they have..."

The factory, with its barbed-wire fencing was less than forty-feet away and, with Acaelus helping out, it should have been a breeze—blow up the factory from a distance, eliminate threat, mission over. But this was a training exercise with real consequences, which means no relying on the S-Rank agent for everything.

DAY OF THE MEETING:

Gear was both happy and not so happy about the teams. He was glad he'd see the familiar face of Maalik but didn't jump at the chance to spend time with Alarick. It was too awkward. but it was an order and there was not use trying to fight it.

He picked up his bag from his appartment, freshly packed with new clothes, and went to the dispatch center. Next stop: Berlin.

---------------------------

DAY OF MISSION

Berlin was freezing, especially compared to Peru, where Gear had been just before the meeting with the other seven agents. He could see his breathe but he didn't really care anyway. he didn't mind the cold too much. Besides that, District-Base 2 was dreary and dark, but that was a good thing, since Gear could stay invisible to any potential targets.

He looked at the other members in his group, Skylar Quillam, the newly graduated Accendo synergist, Alarick, an injured but campable Pulvius agent, and the leader, A-2 Sabulum user Maalik. It was then that Gear realized he was the only member of this cell that was an angelic synergist. He never really liked that term. It made them seem more supernatural than usual and somehow connected to God. Even though Gear wasn't particularly religious, he didn't like to be compared to anything Divine.

"Agent Gear, I want you to scout around, but keep within cover. Report everything you see."

With the order from Maalik, Gear departed from the group, disappearing into the shadow as he walked. he traveled for a little while, only noticing little unrelated things, like a couple who snuck out of their districts to get it on. he scared them, on purpose, but was never seen. he saw some trucks near a warehouse to the southwest of the group's original position, and some more to the northwest of the same building. he counted five trucks in total, just enough for the gang and the cargo

Skylar followed the men quietly. She still found the grouping displeasing, especially when Agent Reinhart was in her group. Seriously, she respected him for his rank and his experience – after all he must have completed a certain number of tasks to achieve this level, but she held doubts about his current abilities. The redhead was not arrogant; she simply disliked being in a seemingly less privileged group compared to the other trainee’s.

Moreover, the nature of the mission was not something she had anticipated. Tackling art thieves? It sounded unbelievably boring. Being repeatedly reminded – by the agency’s message and Maalik – to cause as little damage as possible indeed got on her nerves. If she could choose, the young girl would definitely opt for a more thrilling and force-demanding task.

Crossing her arms and letting out a small yawn, Skylar Quilliam put on an uninterested and weary face. It was a habit – whenever she had to restrain her discontent or anger, she attempted to detach herself by acting slothfully.

“Do they even need an agent for a thief chase?” the redhead asked after Agent Gear left, though she was not expecting an answer.

Following Agent Maalik, the novice scanned the surroundings. It was her very first time to be outside Halcyon. That was probably the only exciting part about her first mission. The view before her eyes, however, was rather gloomy. What a pleasant first impression, she sighed silently, running her fingers through her short hair, Let’s hope the crooks will hop out and pick a nice fight soon.

While the rest of the team treated the mission with an air of laxity, Maalik kept his senses sharpened and his guard on high-alert. This may have been nothing more than a joke for the other members, but Maalik was still tasked with protecting his team. He was still responsible for them—rookie mission or not.

“Do they even need an agent for a thief chase?”

"Some times, the local authorities don't have the manpower or the resources to stop such crimes," Maalik explained as they walked, careful to keep his voice only minutely louder than a whisper. "In such cases, SA provides affordable aid and assistance."

It was then that he felt it—the feeling of a returning vibration. From the moment they had arrived, Maalik had wasted no time in syncing with the earth. He could feel the rumble of footsteps, the heaviness of three people stepping on loose dirt—thirty, no twenty-five feet away.

But instead of sharing his discovery, Maalik stayed silent. He was only here to ensure the safety of the team and to observe the graduate's adaptability. He wasn't supposed to intrusively or aggressively direct the course of the assignment. Plus, there was no urgency or immediacy of danger.

"This is also a good opportunity for graduates, like yourself, to experience a mission."

Twenty-feet away, just around the corner of the upcoming warehouse.

Acaelus raised his gaze from the small tablet that listed the missions directives and he narrowed his gaze at Wen as he stored the gadget in his pack. “This is somebody's home—” Acaelus glanced around and sighed before he shook his head and pulled his reading glasses off and slid them in the inside breast pocket of his jacket. “Never mind. We're not here to criticize or defend these peoples home.”

This horizon was so different than Halcyon's crystal-clear sky, it was almost like a dirty fog was continuously shrouding the once bright skyline. The cityscape was dotted with fading lights, casting a dim shine through the cloud of pollution that was just another result of the war. To this day had not been cleared.

No matter how many missions outside of Halcyon Acaelus had been on, the state of the outside world always made him cringe. The image before him made Acaelus have conflicting feelings for the poor citizens; the feeling of pity overtook him for a moment, until he remembered why exactly the area was tainted this way. These people had risen up in the attempt to smash out the Synergist's—their kind—and had failed. Incredibly. The proof of that was now clear to them all.

“Our intelligence of the compound is slim, but also very informative where it is most needed.” Acaelus explained. Turning his attention to the group. “We have all had a chance to study the blueprints that were provided. Unfortunately, it is true, we are still unsure of the amount of hostiles or what entrances they will be stationed at. As well as the kind of weaponry they have at their disposal.
“Our main objective is arresting the leaders of this particular group. Make arrests in hopes that when left with no head this faction will fall to ruins. If we can accomplish this without much bloodshed—it would be appreciated. Hopefully these children will learn some sense and avoid something like this again.” Acaelus shifted his stance and looked over his shoulder towards the factory base before returning his gaze to the team.
“As I see it, there are several ways we can go about completing this mission.” He paused and let his gaze rest on Wen directly, “Agent Song, I believe you may be able to use your Degree to bring a curtain of fog over the building and surrounding area, allowing us a bit of cover and give us the opportunity to scope out the compound from a closer perspective. The air will have to be thick, but I believe you may be able to pull from the pollution already in the atmosphere and simply thicken and concentrate it—we are all equipped with masks to prevent any harmful toxins the air might have in it, these are in your packs.”

He patted his altered uniform on the side of his torso, indicating where a bulge of a pack could be recognized under the fabric. Each of them had one, but they weren't all in the same place as his.

Behind a sealed compartment held several objects that were equipped at the beginning of the flight to aid in their assignment; a pair of spectacles that allowed them to see in the dark without the need for a light (it also held the ability to pinpoint heat sources); breathing contraptions that filtered contaminated air and let them suck fresh air into their lungs. And finally, each was given a pick-locking device.

Acaelus nodded when he was confident they understood and continued, “When there is enough and we have been given the chance to find an entrance that is either unguarded or less of a risk, I can create illusions to draw attention away from the building itself, so we may enter and commence the capture of these individuals.
“From there, things should go rather swiftly. We will avoid casualties where we can, our main objective is the capture of the three leaders, and not to slaughter the entire group.”

When he was finished Acaelus pulled from his pack a ear-piece that let him stay in contact with them all and placed it around his ear. "Anything to add?" Acaelus asked in sincerity. Whenever he was leading a team into assignment, he needed the plan to be flawless.

For a second, Wen was dumbfounded. Acaelus wanted him to turn the dry heat of LA into more fog. And he wanted it the size of a football field.

"Oh yeah, just give me a minute to transform the dry, twenty-degree air into a big, fat fluffy layer of fog," the sarcasm was hard to miss. "And who do you think I am? Xue-Lian reincarnated? Do you even know how big that compound is and how much energy it would take to do what you're asking?

"It'd be easier if you asked me to just cover everything in ice. Which, in case you didn't know, I can't do."

Letting out a low, derisive laugh, the blond shook his head and shrugged. This was far too much work and planning for a low-level, non-synergist assignment. "You know, we could always just create a distraction—lure some people away and make it easier for us to sneak in." Inching closer towards Kanon, who he had strategically stayed next to, Wen whispered, "How about we team up and do something? I'm sure we'd make a great pair." He smiled and his eyes curved with suggestions.

accessdeniedThe day had just begun and Kanon had already developed certain opinions about people on the team. First of all, that Wen fellow had expressed his dislike at being in a situation such as this; and in the rudest manner. Kanon bit her lip, wondering if he was even suited to be an agent with the sort of attitude? Treating a mission like a joke...Kanon couldn't approve of it. A small frown appeared on her face as she opened her mouth to say something- but Acaelus took the words straight out of her mouth.

accessdeniedIn the short time that Kanon had interacted with Acaelus, the male managed to live up to his famed name. He took charge with precision and the way he commanded the group was professional, and Kanon respected him for that, and hoped to do the same as he was in a few years.

accessdeniedShe sighed as Wen opened his mouth and began to ramble on about how he could not do what Acaelus asked of him. So he doesn't live up to her name, hmm? I'm disappointed. The woman blinked as she heard someone talking to her, and turned her head to see the speaker. It was Wen again, and he was suggesting that the two of them team up. Kanon didn't really understand what he meant by 'doing stuff together'; after all, Wen didn't seem like the type of person who could make up a plan any moment. "No thanks."

The quiet hunt – or walk, as they were not even expected to use much force – around the old warehouses was boring her. The weather was not appealing at all. The whole sight was depressing. Seeing the dollops of cloud piling up above their heads, something popped up in the Accendo synergist’s almost idle mind. “If I were one of the trifling crooks,” Skylar spoke in a low voice, “I would not keep the paintings in one of those poorly equipped or over-ventilated buildings today. Even fools know too much moisture is harmful to the paints or whatsoever.”

In her eyes, art traders and collectors were more or less freaks. They could get heart attacks over the most trivial things, such as seeing an exiguous spot of dirt on their paintings. She almost suspected if they had microscopes in their eyes. How much a tiny flaw on a painting could cost the art owner would just be a joke to the redhead. Some could say Skylar was completely ignorant when it came to visual arts; the girl did not care at all.

Even though she had pointed out what she thought, Skylar Quilliam did not mind checking the old warehouses out with the rest of her team. Running into cocky gangsters would surely be more entertaining than discovering the lifeless canvases instantly.

As much as Alarick agreed with Skylar’s assessment of their current ‘art thief’ mission he wasn’t about to voice his opinion on the entire matter. Instead he just walked along with the other two, and kept his eyes open for any unexpected surprises- well as if surprises could be anything else.

He tilted his head up as Agent Maalik went about his mentoring-business and Skylar answered quite formidably with her thoughts. That blue eye watched as the clouds above them swirled and churned like a witch’s brew near over spilling. Slowly he glanced back down again to see three silhouettes gracing their wonderful warehouse visage. This was a commercial district with no long term human inhabitation- Alarick judged. And considering what area of Berlin they were currently strolling through- this was not a place for sightseeing or idle jogging. If the agent had to put his money on anything it was that these three were a part of the gang, or inevitably had something to do with trading of illegal merchandise.
And as reserved as Alarick seemed he was not a fellow that would allow someone to have enough time to deem him a threat and wiggle their gun in his general direction.

“Agent Maalik, Agent Quilliam- maybe we should leave the Q and A portion of this mission till later.” He stated softly as he gestured towards the three that loitered directly in their sight. A hand went inside his jacket and Alarick firmly grasped his flask with one hand.
About that time there was a hesitation from the gang members in front of them and inevitably one pointed and yelled something in German towards the trio. While two of them seemed to be currently unarmed the third one was pawing at his jacket- if Alarick was to guess he didn’t think that there was a rose underneath there for them.

Without much thought- though two years off the field some things still came naturally- Alarick uncapped his flask and relieved it of its’ contents. Instead of hitting the ground- the thick stream of water instead seemed to be pouring itself into an odd spherical shape. The gun wielding gang member only had a moment to draw his weapon until the liquid orb smothered his head which rendered him quite breathless. He dropped his pistol and flailed against the water that had now taken residence over his entire face. Yet for his entire attempt to ‘pull it off’ his hands just sunk into the orb before coming back just a smidge wetter than before.
“I would take them out before they have time to yell, shoot a gun, or otherwise call attention to our presence.” Alarick stated through narrowed lips- eyes thick in concentration.

Wen was used to having women throw themselves at him—pleading, begging, and wanting to be his number one, wanting to be his all and everything. He was, however, still new to flat-out, point-blank rejections.

It's not to say that the blond hasn't ever been rebuffed, but the sting of "no" always made the blond flinch a little, reel in his place as his brain scrambled to protect his unbelievably fragile ego. It always felt like a slap to the face.

Shaking off Kanon's cold response, Wen ran a hand through his hair, his nails dragging hard against his scalp while his brain worked overtime to recover. "Ouch, so cold, Kanon." Despite the refusal, Wen managed to keep his smile, the slow languid curve of easy confidence and good charms. He may have had his ego slightly bruised, but Wen was hardly finished. "If you keep this up, how am I supposed to ask you out to dinner later tonight?"

And maybe this was the reason Wen was never assigned to mentor a graduate. The agency had no need for another agent like the blond.

Gear was still away from the rest of the group when he came across a pair of people he suspected to be a part of the gang his team was tailing. He didn't see any shadows to shadow walk with so he decided to use the high road and try to hear any pertinent information. He ran up the wall and grabbed on to it's ledge. Luckily it was low enough for him to still hear the men.

"Wo sollen wir wieder hin?" he heard one of the men say.

"Zurück in die Fabrik du dumme Jungen" The other said.

Damn they're speaking German. Gear realized. He had taken a bit of German in the Academy but the teacher was rather boring and he could constantly sleep. If it was spanish or Italian, he'd be good. He did manage to decipher something about going to a factory. So he decided to check his information from before. He headed back the way he came, but he only went about ten feet until he fell through the roof of the building he was on. Shit.

He heard the men shout something like "What was that?"

They came in and immediately began to look around. Gear managed to get into a shadowy section of the room but didn't expect the men to just leave.

He stayed still and waited for the inevitable.

When the men came up the steps to the second floor, Gear saw them through the fllorboards, which were broken down. He saw that the stairs were ok to climb but that the floor leading to them was very much dilapidated. The men still risked it, being much nimbler than their bulky forms led Gear to believe. They got to the steps, and began to look around, first to the corner where the invisible SA agent was hiding and finally to the man sized hole in the roof of the building. Then men then walked up the the hole and began to look at it inquisitively. It obviously wasn't a raccon or other small animal, the hole was just too big.

The men then realized they had been followed and decided to look around for just who was the culprit. Gear didn't give them much time to search, sneaking behind one man and giving him a swift punch to the back of the neck, knocking him out. As he hit the floor his buddy turned and pulled a blade on Gear. Gear, who prided himself on a very nice knife collection, noticed it was a sevn inch long trench knife that looked as if it could have been from the same century of the stolen artwork.

The man follishly lunged at Gear. Gear noticed that the man wasn't even a man, he was probably seventeen, and very poorly trained. He had completely left his left flank open, which was a mistake Gear took advantage of, giving him a quick, but rather gentle, kick to the side. "You need to protect everything dude." This boy really need ed some training, which Gear was happy to give, since the kid would probably be in jail by sunset tomorrow anyway. The kid understood, and quickly defended his left side but his stance still needed some work. ao Gear rushed him and dropped the boy to the floor. The boy quickly jumped up and corrected his stance somewhat, but Gear was growing tired of this game and decided to use his degree to containt the boy. He used shadows to pull the boy towards him, and to remove his knife form his grasp, and restrained him with the same shadows. Gear said, "I assume you know english, seeing as you understood my instrcution earlier. My name is.... well none of your concern really, but what is of your concern is the amount of jailtime you may be forced to indure after the authorities are called and arrest you. If you tell me where your hideout is then I may be able to put in a good word for you and your pal here. if not, the authorities should be around in a few hours to pick you up."

The boy was silent for a moment, but then said, in very broken English, "North-Wess Fabrik. Stahl. Paintings there."

The factory was not the one Gear had been loking at before, but it wasn't far. He decided to go check it out before he went back to the group, but he wanted to check in. He tapped the device on his ear and contacted Maalik.

"Agent Maalik, I know where the artwork is, I'm going to go check out the layout a bit unless you think it'd been better for Agent Quillam to try her observational skills."

"And what exactly can you do, Agent Song?" Acaelus said in a tight voice as he glanced to the blond with a raised eyebrow.

To say that his patience was running thin with this man, was an understatement. Acaelus had never worked with him before—a small blessing, until now—they had graduated the same year, but the man's mind-set towards this assignment was appalling to say the least. It was becoming a challenge for Acaelus to keep a straight head.

If he was able to easily admit that he was far out of his depths? Shouldn't that have made him strive to become more? Acaelus pondered as he surveyed the man with a look that could cut.

“I would like to know are you suffering from acute memory loss.” Acaelus prompted and crossed his arms while turning his body so he was facing Wen directly. “This assignment is a low level mission, yes, and most definitely not one that you are used to being assigned to. But it is the first field mission for Agent Masami. Which means that it is just as important—or even more so—as any other. And it will be executed with the same amount of regard any other would be given. We will not be going into this compound with no plan of action. So I will ask you, if you cannot manage the task I have asked of you, to any degree: how do you propose we-”

However, before he could even finish his thought, Wen answered it quickly by moving himself next to the young graduate, almost rutting up against her like some dog in heat. Exhaling a heavy breath through his nose, Acaelus shook his head and cleared his throat, gathering the attention once again with a tense jaw. “Thankfully, that is not the only alternative we have of completing the mission.” He paused and frowned, “Now if you are finished neglecting the assignment with inappropriate notions—such as your ego being injured—can we please get back to the matter at hand?”

With this, Acaelus pulled the slim device from his pack and tapped on the screen until a projection of the factory's layout was illuminated in a fluorescent green on the face of the floor at their feet. “If we come around to the south gate we will have a clear shot to the garage—where, we are informed, they hold their vehicles—from there I want you, Narrin,” Acaelus lifted his light gaze to the flame-haired Agent. “to set this building on fire; a small flame will do.
"Masami, you will aid Narrin in burning the building down, giving his flames the air it needs to grow. Giving us the distraction we need to infiltrate the base." Acaelus snapped his attention to Wen and breathed in deeply, “Agent Song and I will shut down any attempts at fighting the flames. I'm going to assume that there is technology that triggers water to extinguish flames in the building. It will be our job to find and shut that device down, as well as keeping any hostiles away from our team.”Acaelus clenched his jaw and tapped the screen of the tablet absently, addressing Wen in clipped tones, "Does that sound like something you can go along with, Agent?"

"What are they doing here? Sidereus Agents?" The redhead frowned as four uniformed agents rounded the corner, their matching outfits bright with new against the old of Berlin, District-Base 2.

"Probably for the same reasons we're here." His companion, a blond with long hair and a crooked grin, answered, his voice thick with Irish accent. He breathed out and smoke puffed from his lips, escaping into the cold and then vanishing before his eyes. "Maybe."

The redhead's frown deepened and the space between his brows wrinkled with distaste. "I don't like this."

"You don't like anything."

The redhead ignored the jab. He was used to the blond's remarks and, even if he wasn't, he wasn't the type to become pointlessly riled up. "Tenebrae," he nodded towards the agent that split, vanishing into the shadows without a second's pause. "What do you want to do about that?"

Crushing the finished cigarette with the toe of his shoes—pointed, Italian leather—the blond grinned widely at the redhead. "What we always do. Show 'em a little old-fashioned hospitality."

And, with that, the two disappeared from the rooftops, the used cigarette still sending small, faint tendrils of smoke into the air.

Maalik didn't need to be told twice to act.

One of the men lunged at the group, his fists raised to reveal brass knuckles, but before he could make impact with any of the agents, he collided with a wall—eight-feet tall and made of solid, sturdy earth. Tumbling backwards, the brunette blinked in confusion, eyes not entirely sure of what he was seeing.

"Syn-Synergists!?"

The word was the same in every language and the look of paralyzing fear was the same on every criminal knowing they were at their end. The brunette was quick to get to his feet (most likely to run), but his companion was even quicker with a gun and the shots he fired forced Maalik to summon defensive walls.

"Agent Maalik, I know where the artwork is, I'm going to go check out the layout a bit unless you think it'd been better for Agent Quillam to try her observational skills," Gear's voice carried clearly and loudly through the earpiece, but Maalik only heard bits and pieces of the report over the gunfire.

"Gear, do what you need to. Get the artifacts and then meet us at the rendezvous point."

The sound of a gun being unloaded signaled the Egyptian with an opportunity—out of bullets, out of chances. Without wasting any time, the agent reacted intuitively and split the ground. A crack, about an inch-thick, snaked its way to the two men and unbalanced them, sending them to the ground as the floor shook and wavered and threatened to split further.

"I think it's safe to say that we've been found out," his expression was grim, but this was what the mission was supposed to be about: testing the new graduate's strength.

'Damn, I was hoping we wouldn't have to run in like this.'

"Are da buyers here yet?" The man with a scar asked in crude, uncertain Russian. "Not yet? It's already past da time!" But no matter how loudly he grumbled about the punctuality of the anonymous buyers, the answer was still the same: Not yet, but maybe soon.

Markus Errol didn't like the air or the taste of Berlin very much. Things were too cold and too old. Even the prime district was somewhat outdated with its trends and products. But the buyers had been picky about where they would meet and agreed to double the amount if the place could be in Berlin.

'Must've be German, them lousy buyers,' he thought irritably, shivering a little as a stray breeze slipped past the warmth of his coat. 'Stupid fucking Germans.'

"You," he pointed to three of his men—Russians. "Go watch da perimeter. Don't want anyone ter interfer, got it?" He wasn't sure if the Russians understood what he was saying (he barely understood what he was saying), but the three nodded and headed out the door. So, they had to have understood something.

"If you see anyone, shoot 'em," he called out just as the door swung shut.

---

Fifteen minutes later, Markus was still shivering and standing around in the factory with absolutely nothing to do. He hadn't gotten word about the buyer and his men still haven't returned—not unusual, the grounds were fairly large.

"Hey, jus' exactly—"

"They're here."

Spinning on his heels, the man turned to face the door and, coming in with one of his men, was a tall, blond with an eyepatch over one eye. "Sorry for being late, but something caught my partner's interest," he spoke with a distinct Irish accent and his body said he was anything, but apologetic. "So, let's see the pieces."

"Show me da money first."

"Right, I've already given the case to your associate here," he nodded to the briefcase in the other man's hand. "Ten million, just like we agreed to. And now—"

But gunfire in the distant interrupted him, cutting him short.

"Shit, what's goin' on?" Markus growled, his hand reaching into his pocket to check up on his guards (exactly what idiotic thing were they doing?), but, evidently, that was wasted effort as the blond, very helpfully, supplied:

"Oh, did I forget to mention? The thing that caught my partner's interest was the arrival of synergists."

---

Markus hugged the briefcase close to his chest as he ran from the warehouse—running the opposite direction of the fighting. He wasn't going to fight any synergists.

No, he didn't have any plans for fighting a bunch of fucking magic-men. And, lucky him, he wouldn't have to.

To the average bystander, Locke listened in silence as the two started to bicker, however that wouldn't of had been the correct wording for the situation. Instead, Locke was sizing up the location, comparing the maps and blueprints he had gotten a look at the night before. He was also reviewing the intel that he received, a process in which was a unorganized thing in his mind on its own.

It wasn't until his name was uttered did he remove himself from his trance and actually started to listen. His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised slightly, seeming almost interested in what the other man had to say.

Oh. A fire. Fun. He finished up his thoughts and organizing the information before becoming a little bit more aware of all that was around him. A glance up, dirty sky, like a paper that had many eraser smudges on it a look down and around trash, the place looks like a dump, and oh? Technology? Gravity rail. Nevermind. He sighed and thrust his hands into his pockets, just waiting for the okay to get to the adrenaline part of the mission- his favorite part.

"Does not having a stick constantly shoved up your ass, sound like something you can do, Agent Trusz Muir?"

That was what Wen was thinking, but this is what Wen actually said: I can do your mom.

No, that's not actually what he said (but, rest assured, the thought was most likely floating around somewhere in his brain). Rather, Wen just nodded, his expression nonplussed. He may not have liked Acaelus (the word "hate" seems to be more accurate), but he wasn't foolish enough to start a personal fight with the man.

'The faster we do this, the faster I can stop seeing his stupid face.' Cracking his knuckles in a sign of readiness, the blond asked, "So, are we gonna do this now or what?"

accessdeniedHis reaction to her words was off putting, to say the least. The male seemed rather perplexed as to why Kanon would say such a thing as that, though she was only telling him her thoughts. What an odd man...

accessdeniedAnd again, Acaelus took over, issuing orders to each one of the teammates. Kanon listened intent on absorbing every little piece of information the older man listed, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

accessdeniedShe looked towards Locke, who seemed to be more of the quiet type. After all, he wasn't joining in the sass fight. Kanon hadn't really interacted with the redhead much, but she decided that they would work well together if he would stay quiet.

accessdeniedShe then looked towards Acaelus, "Understood."

Alarick released the pocket of water that was currently encasing the gang member’s head. It fell all around him in a sort of ‘bored’ splash, and managed to heavily soak his clothes in the process. Unfortunately for Alarick the man was still conscious though he was wheezing heavily enough not to notice or care that the Pulvis Synergist had his cane at the forward to clock him unconscious. These men didn’t deserve death- they were just paltry thieves- and hells they may not have even been that maybe just hired muscle.

“Really Agent Maalik? Because here I thought that gang members let each other know that they were quite healthy and unharmed by unloading bullets at a frantic pace.” It was obviously sarcasm, but he honestly couldn’t stop it bleeding from his lips. They needed to be as incognito as possible with all of this, and here their senior agent was allowing a clip of bullets to be fired at him before he acted. And here he was assured that they would have called Alarick the rusty one.

“Still we can’t stop the damage that has been done. So why don’t we move forward. All we have on our side now is the fact that they don’t know what is coming for them- just that there is something. If we move fast enough and let Gear- God help him- do his job then we might still have the drop on them.” It was then he turned towards Skylar. “Agreed Agent Quilliam?”

"Excellent." Acaelus nodded curtly at their collective confirmation and stored the device back into the compartment before taking lead towards the edge of the roof where there was an emergency fire escape leading to the misty grey ground below. It was old, rusting and appeared to be so deteriorated that it might fall apart if even an ounce of weight was put onto it.

Acaelus was starting to question the Agencie's logic behind dropping them off on the top of a fifteen story building without a safe route down.

Hesitantly, Acaelus glanced over the side then squared his shoulders and eased a testing step onto the grated floor and pressed down. The entire structure groaned and trembled at the pressure and Acaelus tensed automatically. The team at his back made the swooping feeling in his stomach seize when he remembered that he had to take the first leap.

The trip down was a swift one, a race to get off the steps as quickly as was possible, with Acaelus drawing courage from an optimistic little chant of words in his head: 'you'll be fine. you'll be alright. just don't look down'.

Only when the solid asphalt was beneath the soles of his boots once again did his shoulders sagged with relief.

Their access onto the grounds of the compound weren't essentially easy; three guards dressed in odd ratty apparel attempted to trigger the warning, before the team had even passed the surrounding fences. They were knocked out promptly and stored behind a nearby shed.

The vehicles garage was a small enough warehouse that was located on the outskirts of the factories grounds, but it was still stationed behind the chain link fence that looked dangerously close to being alive with electricity. Acaelus made quick work of bypassing these fences using the device they were provided with, to pick the chain lock that was blocking their access—things were taken so simply in their world, it was almost sad—and they were in.

“Make sure your communication devices are equipped correctly.” He waited, looking to Kanon to make sure that she understood what he was indicating before he extracted his staff from where it sat nestled between his shoulders.

They were standing at the loading dock to the garage—the dock, he knew, was the hostile faction's way of illegally distributing goods and harmful substances throughout the city—readying for the dividing of the team. “Stick together, Agents. We will be able to trace each others actions on our wrist trackers and if there is anything that needs immediate attention, simply speak up. We'll hear you. But for now, lets keep our voices to a minimum.” Acaelus resisted the urge to let his sharp gaze shift to Wen at his last order. “The signal that the first part is successful will be obvious, if there is no sight of flames within the next twenty minutes, we'll return here.”

Gear figured that Maalik and the others were in a bit of a situation, but he listened to his leader, like any good agent would, and headed towards the steel factory. He didn't see anybody on the way there, but once he reached the block before the factory, he saw someone.

A man ran down the road with a suitcase in his hands. Errol, I presume? Gear almost went after him but didn't. Errol was a secondary target. The artwork was their primary, so the petty crime boss was nothing to them.

Once Gear got to the steel factory, he decided to take a high road entrance, spotting an open window on the shadowy side of the building. He got in and then looked down, spotting 2 men, a blonde man with an eye patch and red head, who he figured were the buyers.

"Look at him go," the blond grinned as he blew another stream of smoke into the air, the gray curling into fast-fading vapors. "It's like he's actually scared or something."

The redhead, on the other hand, was less amused. His lips were thin lines of disapproval on his face and the space between his brows wrinkled together with concentration. And then, like a jackal hearing the footsteps of a hungry lion, the redhead looked up, his eyes narrowed at a dusty, dirtied window behind them.

"We have company."

Without any warning, the the steel walls of the factory twisted and bent, folding down on itself. The glass in the window shattered and the floor rumbled, shaking with the ferocity of an impending earthquake. "Show yourself."

Shit! Synergists?! Was all Gear could think of as he tumbled through the air.

It was obvious that the redhead was a Sabulum user- and a skilled one at that to be able to bend metal to his will. And Gear would've been prepared for if that was the only thing to contend with, since he was used to sparring with Maalik.But the blonde had yet to reveal his degree- if he had any. But Gear wasn't about to assume that he wasn't- to prevent anymore situations like Alarick's.

He debated over what to do, run and get the others, or head out to face the two mysterious men. He decided to confront the men. He walked out, his hands already covered in shadow essence but held behind his back. No use using a metal blade against a man who can bend metal.

"What's up guys?" he said with a smirk on his face.

The walls shook and swayed under the force of the earth's instability, threatening to collapse. Pieces of metal rafters unhinged themselves from the roof and fell downwards, landing dangerously close to and around the places the three men stood.

"Oi, it's that shadow-walker from before!" The blond grinned wider, his teeth unusually white. "So, he's alone then."

Both things, the redhead had already known.

"I don't have time for this." The floor split and the crack speared forward at the agent. "Tommie, get the things. We're done here."

Gear felt the earth shifting under his feet and jumped to the side to avoid being cuaght in the fissure. Maalik had done the same trick on him several times, so he new how to counteract it, for the most part. he still stumbled a bit but he regained his footing fairly quickly. He jumped up and pulled out his crossbow and let loose a fury of shots at the men. He got three shots off, not knowing whether he hit the men or not, before retreating into a shadow walk to contact Maalik.

"Hey Maal, if you guys aren't too busy I could use some help over here. I've confronted enemy synergists, one Sabulum and the other has an unknown degree, I'm assuming. I'll try to hold them off a bit but the Sabulum synergist is on par with you Maalik. come as soon as possible."

After that Gear ran out and fired three more shots at the men, then he molded shadow essence over his body to protect himself from the inevitable damage to come.