Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]

A quiet chill echoes through the empty classroom as I gather my belongings and slide them into my [Inventory]. So incredibly useful to have this pocket of extradimensional storage, even if it is technically and frustratingly possible to lock the dimensions and prevent access. Honestly, I’m not really sure how humanity survived for so long without it.

Maybe that makes me ‘weak’ for ‘relying on the System’. Maybe it opens me up to getting yelled at by the previous generations because ‘Back in my day, we carried our belongings on our backs like real men while walking to the office in the snow! Uphill, both ways, on our dinosaurs!’ Death, taxes, and the older generations complaining about the younger ones.

Speaking of older generations. “We’ll speak in my office,” I say, sensing Clara watching me despite the fact that she’s keeping herself hidden from most forms of perception. A very strong anti-perception Skill, at that. I hadn’t noticed the oddity in the Etheric flow myself until she was right outside the door. “I think there’s another class in here at 3:00 and I have a feeling we’ll need more time than that for this conversation.”

“I would dispute one of your claims from your presentation earlier, enjoyable and informative as I found it otherwise,” she says. “About there not being any experts in the field of Ethertech, that is.”

The two of us make our way down the flight of stairs to the basement floor.

“If you’re calling me an expert in Ethertech,” I say, in a voice so quiet that none of the students heading up the stairs can hear. “Then I will say that I appreciate the flattery but that you completely underestimate the depth of the field and its potential, and how little I know. It really is a case of the blind leading the blind. Maybe the one-eyed.”

“While flattery is sometimes a tool used early on in the interview process, I assure you that I’m speaking rather more pointedly on the subject.”

I unlock the door— with my key rather than glyphs— and let the both of us inside. I take my seat and Clara sits down in front of the desk, finally dispelling the distorting barrier masking her presence. Though, before I can say anything more on the subject, she begins casting a spell. Just a sound-suppression veil, and one which I can easily overpower were I of a mind to do so.

“Something to do with Chloe’s father, Hank Jacobs, I take it?”

“Indeed. Did you do your own research on this?”

“Just a little bit. I’m surprised you both know what he’s doing and are prepared to make such a bold claim. I daresay that you know more than I do.”

“Perhaps, and perhaps not. I must admit that it was only because of your meddling that my agents were even able to dig up a lead in the first place.”

“And you will be sharing this information.”

“I will, yes, but I think it would be best if Miss Jacobs were here for this herself.”

“Chloe?” I message. “Clara’s back. She says she has some information for us, but she wants both of us to be here for whatever she has to say.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in twenty minutes or so. Just need to finish up a couple more procedures first.”

“Telepathy?”

I nod. “I thought it was reasonably well-known that the two of us could do so.”

“Reasonably well-known, but not necessarily true.” Clara pulls out an iced coffee beverage and takes a decent-sized drink. “I believe just yesterday you were passing off a new Skill of yours as ‘invisibility’. I’m not going to pry into what flavor of invisibility you have, but I’ve never heard of one that allows an individual to completely vanish from every detection spell I and all of my agents have access to between us.”

“Strange. I thought you had a pretty good one that you were using just a bit ago.”

“I’m sure you could have seen me had you been looking. I’ve been told it leaves a starry and shimmering haze around my position to those who look closely.”

“So noted. And Chloe told me that she’ll be about fifteen more minutes, if you’d like to step out for a bit until then.”

“I will let you have a few minutes to unwind until then.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m guessing she's the reason why I’ve been getting this strange sense of being watched since I arrived?”

“Probably. Annoying that she has such a strong antidetection Skill, but it’s better that we know such things exist now than be blindsided by such on the field of battle.”

A knock on the door. I can tell it’s Chloe from the excitement emanating through our bond and the sound of her footsteps on the tile outside. She enters as I open the door, giving me a quick hug and kiss, followed by Clara reentering behind her, that subtle mirage the only physical indication that she came back at all.

I close the door, and Clara again drops her veil around herself. Before either of us can speak, another veil fills my entire office. “Probably an unnecessary precaution, but it would be best if we operated under the assumption we are being listened in on at all times.”

“So then, do you know something about my father?” Chloe half-states and half-asks as she pulls away from my embrace, leaning up against the wall. “Sorry for the lack of manners. A long day, and I’m still worried about Mom.”

“Apologies accepted; I know this must be hard for you both. Regarding your question, I do, although I must admit that I wouldn’t have found the breadcrumbs had your friend not been so clumsy in his attempts to access government databases.”

“Friend?” I ponder the word. “Oh, I wouldn’t consider Major Richardson to be a friend. Same as you, an ally of convenience, with whom I work on assignments that serve our mutual ends.”

“So be it.” Clara’s poise remains intact, as though she expected me to respond as such. “I hadn’t even thought to go down that little line until one of my agents had noticed the massive trove of documents being downloaded via a remote terminal.”

“In other words,” I say, “you’ve reached the same conclusion that we’ve been thinking. That whoever kidnapped Alicia was really after Mr. Jacobs, not us.”

“Some of both. It’s clear to me that you, Miss Mortensen, as well as Mr. Jacobs, are both involved in a much, much bigger plot than I think you and Miss Jacobs are currently aware of.”

“What do you mean by ‘a much, much bigger plot’?” Chloe asks.

“Please don’t mention Project Seraphina until she does,” I interject telepathically. “It might be our best way to get some more information out of her.”

Chloe nods by the tiniest amount.

“I think the two of you know more about that than I do,” Clara says.

“I don’t think so,” I respond. “Neither of us have really any more information about what he’s involved with than you do.”

“I beg to disagree, but I suppose what you know isn’t the important thing. Here’s what I was able to dig up. First of all, Miss Jacobs’ father, Henry Jacobs. One of my agents did a bank trace on his deposits, confirming that he spends considerable time in the Las Vegas area.”

“Please don’t tell me he’s involved with the Mob,” Chloe says. “Or that he’s some sort of professional gambler, or a serial philanderer. If I find out I have a slate of half-siblings, I’m going to absolutely–”

“Area 51,” I say.

Chloe looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Like, the place that’s associated with aliens and the supernatural? Wasn’t there an exposé a few years back that concluded definitively that Area 51 has nothing to do with aliens?”

“Assuming that they were fed truthful information,” I say. “Which I’d trust… Not nearly as far as I can throw them, considering my current [Strength]. But if the feds only fed— pardon the pun— truthful information down the conspiracy pipeline, they’d be able to ensure that the only people aware of what was going on there were the people with the least credibility in such matters.”

“Is that really what’s going on?” Chloe asks Clara.

“In truth, I don’t know exactly what he’s working on and I don’t know if it’s ‘aliens’. None of my agents were able to locate any specific information about his projects either. But then, you had mentioned ‘Project Seraphina’ to Major Richardson, and after I spoke with him, I did a little additional research on that keyphrase. I found exactly one budget line in an obscure DoD memo… In 2002. And nothing else. No briefings, no correspondence. Definitely the sort of thing that our elected officials were never informed about.”

That made absolutely no sense. Why in the world would Chloe’s father be working for a secret defense project back twenty-one years ago? And what does that have to do with Alicia getting kidnapped four days ago? Or me? One question answered, dozens more to be asked. And it all reeks of a conspiracy much bigger than I understand even now.

“That being what it is,” Chloe says. “Do you have any information about my mother? Where she’s being held, any ideas on how to rescue her?”

“Yes, and maybe. Although I’m far from certain about that last part. I didn’t believe it at first myself, but the organization responsible for your mother’s kidnapping is currently operating within a dungeon located about thirty-five miles southwest of St. Louis.”

“Operating within a dungeon?” I ask. “Either genius, or foolish. I’m not sure which.”

“Both,” Clara says. “But mostly the former. The dungeon is just at the right level: forty-five to fifty. High enough of a level to be an active deterrent and plausible deniability for those who are… disappeared within, low enough to not be a real threat to the people running the operation. And by using the dungeon’s architecture as a way to naturally block sensory and perception Skills…”

“Natural distortions in the fabric of reality,” I say. “Dungeons already act a little like pocket dimensions, not unlike our [Inventory]. As long as they could handle the logistical considerations— food, water, and so on… I’m honestly surprised no one has done anything like this before.”

“Are they affiliated with the Legion?” Chloe asks.

“Affiliated, almost certainly. The scale of these operations would require a significant degree of planning, manpower, resources, knowledge. I can think of no other force operating within the nation’s borders that would possess the necessary reach to hollow out a dungeon into a base of operations. What I don’t know is if these people are actual members, or mere affiliates.”

“So, how do we infiltrate to get Mom out?” Chloe asks. “As far as I know, dungeons tend to have only one way in, and the only other way out involves clearing the dungeon and shutting it down.”

“We do have one advantage in that regard,” Clara says. “Although it will require a lot of finesse to pull off.”

“The other Seraphina,” I say.

“That’s correct,” Clara says. “It will be difficult, but I believe that we can turn that to our advantage.”

“How?” Chloe asks. “Is it not already known that there are two of her going around?”

“At least two,” Clara responds. “Possibly more, but no fewer than two. More importantly, if the Legion operates anything like the military and the old U.S. government, and I believe it does, most of the footsoldiers won’t be aware of what’s going on.”

“In other words, they won’t know I’m me as opposed to one of the other Seraphinas out there.”

“Precisely. Although you will bear the brunt of the risk if things go wrong.”

I’m about to say that I don’t mind taking risks if it means a chance of getting Alicia back safe and sound, but it’s Chloe who interjects before I can do so.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asks.

“Of course not. As you don’t mind the risks are going to fall upon me, and that you won’t get too upset with me if I’m reckless.”

“That’s fine. Just promise me that you won’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“It may not be avoidable. I’m expecting things to go wrong. With something like this, it’s practically guaranteed. But there’s not much else we can do but play things by ear when they fall apart.”

Chloe gives me a nod in acknowledgement before turning back to Clara.

“So, when does the operation begin?” she asks. “I hope soon.”

“Miss Mortensen’s classes will continue on through Thursday, and I will need a couple more days to make preparations. Until then, I ask that you please carry on with your normal routines. Make whatever preparations you can, but I ask you to avoid tipping off anyone who might be watching. Keep the discussions to whatever telepathic communication you two have; assume you have ears on you at all times.

“As for when: Let us plan to leave this time Thursday afternoon. I will meet with you both here, at 2:30 PM. Until then.”