The Station Chief had little to say when Jacob dropped off his archives update, adding it and his analysis of Kerl Klein to the growing stack of files the chief had to go through. Jacob sent the rest of his time at the station going through every news article available on Kerl, and on the pandemonium surrounding the search. True to what he and the other Officers had predicted, complete chaos had taken over. Card shops around the world were rapidly running out of stock, as individuals, governments, and other companies fought for the existing supply. Heads of state were being caught buying up massive amounts, break ins and thefts were being reported across the nation, and groups were going to unbelievable lengths to find the last four invites.
At multiple universities Jacob found reports and articles on researchers building advanced machines and algorithms to track down the locations of the invites. One algorithm even claimed to know the exact location of all 4 remaining cards, though it refused to disclose it because “that would be cheating”. At another university there was reports of multiple injuries in an incident involving a pack sorting and sensing machine. In a more humorous development he read reports of at least two dozen seances being conducted, both with and without the use of spirit cards. Search and Rescue GovPacks were backordered for months, as people attempted to repurpose them to track down invite cards. The world was descending into madness, a madness entirely focused on Wonder Corp.
Unsurprisingly, the company was silent. No official statements, no public comments, not even a congratulations to Kerl Klein. All news unrelated to the invite cards was relegated to the back pages of papers and the bottom of news sites. Wonder Corp.’s logo was everywhere, their name was on everyone’s tongues. It was the most brilliant marketing strategy a company had ever devised, but Jacob worried over the after effects. The more he read, the more he saw insanity. Assaults, murders, ransom notes demanding Wonder Corp. card packs, every Agency Officer’s worst nightmare during a normal time. Now, with all officers tasked with participating in the search, it was a night terror. There was no one to respond to crime as it happened, leaving it unanswered.
Jacob poured over the articles for hours, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up, his eyes taking a moment to adjust. The station chief was standing next to his terminal, drinking a coffee. She looked completely worn out, like she was only a few moments away from passing out from sheer exhaustion.
“Go home.” The station chief’s voice was course and worn through “We return to normal shifts tomorrow.”
Jacob nodded without argument, and the chief moved on to tell the other Officers. Jacob finished reading what he had open - a case file on the murder of a dock inspector - and logged out of the terminal. He looked around to see that several other Officers had already left for the day, making their way out the moment they were instructed. Those still at the station were uniformly exhausted, but still moved with frenetic urgency.
Jacob grabbed his jacket and moved blearily to the entrance of the station. He reached down to his equip deck and pulled a concentration card out of it, slipping it into his equipper right before he left the building. As the card kicked into effect his vision cleared, and the exhaustion he felt moved towards the back of his mind. His focus amplified, and he straightened up to begin his walk home.
While Jacob was used to the streets being quiet, the silence around him as he walked felt ominous. Since the announcement of the invite cards the streets had been almost uniformly empty. No more matches occurring in the alleys, the warehouses were silent and dark, and the expected retinue of workers returning home from the day had completely vanished. The city was fully focused on its quest for Invite cards, a focus that left it feeling abandoned and post-apocalyptic. The bakery he ocassionally visited was closed, its doors shuttered, no pastries or loaves of bread on display. While cars were already rare in this part of the city, their absence was even more noticeable now.
The silence was palpable. Until Jacob turned the corner, and was met with a cacophony. As usual his route had brought him past the Wonder Corp. Card Repository, which had devolved into barely controlled insanity. In front of its gates dozens of people stood, yelling at the guards, trying to get in. They carried signs and megaphones, with most of the protestors masked to avoid identification. From the distance Jacob could only read a few signs, emblazoned with phrases like Cards for the Masses, Transparency now, and Hope for the Many, Not for the Few. Half a dozen protest slogans were being chanted over each other, and as Jacob watched one of the protesters threw an egg onto one of the guards at the fence line. Jacob skirted the riotous mass, freezing when one of the guards spotted him. He saw the barrel of three separate rifles pointed in his direction, before the same guard he had seen the day before yelled at his colleagues. The guards turned the rifles back towards the protest, and the one he was familiar with nodded at him. Jacob nodded back, then moved quickly to escape the area. As he rounded the corner onto the main street he heard a gunshot, and the sound of screams. He quickly rushed back, and saw the guards firing above the crowd’s heads. The people screamed in fear and scattered, with less than a dozen hard line protestors remaining. Seeing nobody injured Jacob turned back to the street and kept walking.
Jacob continued for another few minutes as the sound of protesters faded into the silence. The street was quiet, and the few remaining shops on it had all closed in the pandemonium. Jacob frowned as he walked; the search for the invite cards had truly taken over everything.
There was the sound of squealing tires, and Jacob turned to see an all black truck barreling down the street towards him. He started running as the truck gained on him, glancing back once to get a better look. The truck was a box truck that was completely painted black, with no logos on it. The windows were completely tinted, making it impossible to see inside. Jacob continued running as the truck rapidly approached. Just when it was about to hit him, Jacob spotted a small alley on his left. He dove into it, and the truck barreled past. He heard the rev of the engine and more tires squealing, before the sounds of the truck completely faded into the distance.
Jacob lay on the ground in the alley for a few minutes after the truck vanished, waiting to be absolutely certain he was safe. Any exhaustion he had at the station had vanished; adrenaline coursed through his system, and his heart thundered in his chest. His breath came in deep, ragged gasps, and he coughed as his breath caught for a moment. The cough was painful and deep, scratching at his already injured lungs. That was another reason he would never be an undercover officer. It had been years since the Pneumonia nearly took everything from him, but his lungs had never fully recovered. Push them too much, or use any sort of X-ray cards, and the damage would become obvious. Jacob coughed until he physically couldn’t anymore, hacking and heaving, crawling towards the alley wall as he did. He rested with his back against it, sitting on the floor as his heartrate slowly stabilized and his breath returned to normal. He pulled a standard heal card out of his equip deck and placed it into his equipper, then closed his eyes. The pain and burning in his lungs slowly receded, but the scratchiness in his chest remained - it never fully went away, no matter what he tried.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Jacob looked around the alley he was in, and seeing nothing, moved to get up and continue home. He placed his hands on the ground and froze as his left hand touched something soft. He looked down at his hand, and his heartrate rose again slightly. Underneath his left palm the corner of two crisp 100 unit CivCred bills stuck out, their blue and purple printing almost glowing in the dark of the alley. Jacob picked them up and looked them over; it had been a long time since he had seen one in person. His pay always came via electronic packet, and bills of this size were rare. The bills were clean and fresh, no sign of grime or filth from the alley. They must have been lost recently. The bills wouldn’t get him a huge amount throughout the city - CivCreds bought less and less every month - but it would be enough to make him and his Grandfather’s lives much more comfortable for a few weeks. This many CivCreds could get him several pounds of vegetables, a few spices, maybe even an extra comfort pack or two. Jacob looked up and down the alley to see if the person who lost the money might still be there, standing up slowly as he did. The alley was empty, with not a single trace of anyone present. Jacob shrugged, and pocketed the CivCreds. He would have to talk it over with his Grandfather to find the best thing to spend it on, but that was a welcome surprise during a time with so much stress. Especially since they were likely going to run out of soup tonight.
Jacob stepped back into the street cautiously, looking both directions as he did. He glanced nervously towards the direction the truck had disappeared, hesitating as he waited for another sound. The street was silent, with the only other soul being a lone factory manager making their way home across the street from him.
Trust…
A breeze started from behind Jacob, carrying the whisper of a word. It lightly tugged at him, pulling on his clothes gently. He glanced at the factory manager across the street, who continued to shamble slowly down the cracked and ruined sidewalk. The manager seemed unaffected by the breeze and whisper, which appeared to be calling solely to Jacob.
Trust in the cards…
The man across the street didn’t react to the words, confirming to Jacob that it was meant just for him. He glanced behind himself towards the alley he had come from; it was still dark and lifeless, with no sign of any change. He followed the it with his eyes to where it opened up to the next street, taking in the grime and rubble as he did. The buildings on the street were like the rest of the city: abandoned and ill-maintained.
At the end of the decrepit alley Jacob spotted the source of the whispering: A black robed member of the Order of Aman’thea stood unmoving at the end of the alley, staring at him from the entrance on the next street.
Believe in the cards…
The figure didn’t move as the whisper rose again, the breeze becoming a gentle wind. Like the Aman’thea Priest he had met the day before this one wore a mask of concealment, but appeared to be smaller in the build than the other. Two glowing white eyes stared out of the mask. This priest wanted Jacob to know it was looking at him, trying to appear unnerving and unsettling. Jacob felt his frustration begin to rise, slowly increasing in intensity like a pot beginning to boil. Determined, he started walking towards the figure, placing his hand deliberately on his side arm instead of his battle deck. The figure wanted him to know it was looking at him. He wanted the figure to know he was frustrated, and had no intention of blindly taking advice.
TRUST
The breeze became a wall of wind, hitting Jacob suddenly. The wind was unusually hot, blazing with warmth like a gust from a desert. Jacob grimaced, and kept pushing forward. This had to be the effect of a spell card. The figure wasn’t moving, but that was easy enough to fake. One distraction priest in the alley, another hidden just out of sight. That would make the magic appear to be coming from the first, even if they never moved to cast a card. Or they could have hidden card equippers. Either way, Jacob refused to be intimidated. No cheap tricks were going to scare him into belief. The cards were just that. Cards. Magic in use, but nothing more.
IN THE CARDS…
The wind continued to buffet Jacob as he pressed forward, lifting his free arm in front of his face, keeping his eyes on the figure but providing a barrier in front of his mouth to make it easier to breath. An almost indiscernible sound of windchimes and chanting appeared, barely at the edge of Jacob’s perception. The robed figure was pulling out all the stops to impress him; building the sense of magic and awe to sell what he said. Unfortunately Jacob wasn’t buying.
BELIEVE.
The figure suddenly raced forward and placed its palm on Jacob’s forehead, stopping him in his tracks. A flash of light filled Jacob’s vision, while extreme heat burned against his skin.
*****
Heat. A raging desert in the middle of a Sandstorm. Priests surround him in a circle, shouting in a language he didn’t understand. They were all robed in dark colors like the Order of Aman’thea, and each carried magical staves like those found on some of the creature cards. The priests were facing outwards, away from him, looking into the storm. One of the priests ahead of him raised his staff and screamed out a command in the foreign language. A ball of light shot out of the staff and into the storm, where it was quickly swallowed by the dust. A few seconds later there wass the sound of a muffled explosion, and the dust storm ahead flashed with light. An absolutely massive shape loomed ahead, appearing in the sand to tower over them. The words from the priests became frantic and terrified, and several more balls of light were sent into the storm. More massive shapes appeared around them as they hit, appearing in the flashes of light. The shapes were hundreds of feet tall, the shadows of demons and monsters beyond all comprehension. None were as big as the first however, which was so massive as to be nearly incomprehensible.
The priest in front sent another light ball towards the first monster, revealing its serpentine shape one more time. There was an ear shattering roar, vibrating the ground and drowning out the sounds of the raging sands. A sound so loud and deep that its vibrations were felt in Jacob’s bones. It went on for what felt like hours, though only a few seconds passed, burying the sound into Jacob’s soul. The monster roared a second time, and Jacob looked up to see the glowing shape of two massive eyes, glaring at him through the storm, hundreds of feet above.
*****
The vision faded back into all white, flashing through him as the sound of the monstrosity’s roars slowly died into silence. Jacob fell to his knees, finding himself back in the alley. The hooded figure was gone, with no sign of ever having been present. Jacob blinked as he came to his senses, taking a few seconds to let the vision settle in. The Card Shop Owner had been right, whatever cards the Order was using were different. Jacob had just experienced something that felt raw, and powerful, and completely real. Not like watching a video on a terminal, or stumbling through a dream. For a few moments Jacob was there. In the desert. Facing down a monster. He could still feel the grains of sand on his face, in his clothes, the heat still lightly radiating off of him as he cooled to the alley’s cold temperature. He felt like he had not been shown something, but that he had been taken somewhere. The robed figure had for a moment cast him out of this world, out of this time, and brought him to another.
Jacob couldn’t help but be shaken by the encounter. He stood up slowly, wobbling a bit on his legs. He glanced around the alley to try and find the figure, but saw nothing. The Priest of the Order of Aman’thea had vanished entirely. Instead he saw a new piece of graffiti on the wall next to him. The paint of the graffiti glimmered and glowed, a soft yellow color that almost appeared to be its own light source. It looked similar to the symbol on the back of his hand when he used his insight card.
The glowing outline of an eye covered the wall next to him.
CivCreds are the main financial currency used where Jacob lives. They were introduced after the insurrection ended, and are how all financial transactions occur (at least officially). Physical currency still exists but is rare; most are paid electronically, so there is little need for paper money by most individuals. The country Jacob is in has suffered heavily from inflation, as it never recovered from the insurrection and impact of the cards appearing. 100 CivCreds is a decent amount in this world, but has the spending power closer to $20-$25 of modern American Dollars. Most citizens get by through allocations; every week and every month new supplies and groceries are delivered to those who need it. These supplies and groceries are made by contractors for the most part, in massive automated factories. Unemployment is extremely common due to this automation, making times tough.
trust in the cards…
Do you think the Order of Aman'thea is actually magic?
