Chapter 3: A Glimmer of Hope

Without so much as a word to Jacquel, Rhyme hightailed it out of the lounge. The professor didn't even notice her leaving a few good moments as he was so enchanted by his little girl.

"Quite the lively one, isn't she?" Thea asked, amused at teasing Jacquel's personal acquaintances.

"You can say that again," Jacquel stood up with a grunt, carrying Sylvie by her shoulders before seating her on his forearm. Sylvie cheered and laughed with glee.

"Higher, Papa, higher!" she squeaked, Jacquel smiled and lifted her a bit higher, though his shoulder muscles ached. He smiled the pain away.

Thea saw that slight, painful wince in her husband. "Now, now, Papa is a bit tired, and you have homework to do, yes, sweetie?"

"Aww, but... but..." her puppy dog eyes were irresistible, it could instantly murder the professor if his heart didn't reflexively beat again. He patted her, "It's ohkwaaay, Syl, Papa always plays lots and lots with good girls," her expression drastically changed into a smile, pure and innocent, "and you know what good girls do~?" he asked, his face closer to hers, "Papa! Face hair tickle!" she giggled.

"Oooohh, it tickles, doesn't it? Well, bad girls get tickled-tickled if they don't do their homework~" she squealed in joy, before trotting away screaming, "Okaaaay, Sylvie do home...work!"

"Hasn't she always been lively?" Jacquel sighed, his body feeling the arthritis again upon having his source of adrenalinergic dopamine scuttling away towards her room, little pink backpack in tow.

"I wasn't talking about Sylvie, dear," Thea sipped her floral tea from the porcelain cup, prompting her husband to momentarily think while stretching his joints.

Eyes up on the white ceilings, he pondered who his wife was referring to, then realized, "Ah, you mean Rivetta? Well, she's been a loose cannon as long as I had the displeasure of knowing her," he made her way around the kitchen counters, grabbed himself a teacup for his own.

Thea put down her cup, and brushed her left hand on her husband's. They may have been married for 7 years, but the passion of their romance was there, despite both being busy with their respective works. "You needn't overwork yourself, honey," she said as she poured warm tea elegantly into his cup, her hand still on his. "We can make do even without being in this lounge, you know..."

"No, that's... that's too risky," his hand let go of the cup gently on the counter, and it was now Jacquel grasping Thea's hand. "We have to stay here. The GRC's class can educate Sylvie well, I'm sure."

"But, the deadline's coming up, and..." she caught her tongue, not wanting to offend or hurt her husband.

Jacquel smiled in response, "Well, there is hope, dear..." he looked towards the entrance, which also doubles as the only exit, "There is hope..."

Thea hugged Jacquel from his back, providing him the comfort he so desperately needed, though he never asked for it.

"L'arôme Caramel No. 3, is it?"

"Oh, dear, your sensitivity never ceases to amaze me."

"It would be even more amazing if I failed to recognize such a distinguishable aroma," he tilted his head a little to the right, meeting his wife's beautiful face, slightly wrinkled from age, "it suits your hair."

"You've told me that many times," she chuckled, "but I'll never get bored of hearing it," she pecked him on the cheek, and whispered to his ear, "You'll sleep early tonight, okay?"

Jacquel hesitated, pondered on the thought of sacrificing lab time for quality time, but as he remembered Rhyme's fiery outburst, he relaxed. Just one night couldn't hurt. He's willing to lay it all on his glimmer of hope, as airheaded as that hope was.

---

"...We hope to see you again..." another lethargic formality as the Key-board was returned to its dock, though the woman on board of it quickly rushed out without so much as a glance to the source of the voice sending her off.

The receptionist continued with her work, but she heard a peculiar whisper. The whispers that had plagued her sleep, now present in her wake.

"... she's similar... she's the same... she's another... just like you... just like you... just like you..."

She shook it off violently, much to the patron's confusion and surprise. "Um.. Miss? Are you all right?"

She clasped her forehead, "Y-yes, how can I help you, please?" her chest started to hurt, she could feel her temperature rising.

"Well, I want to use the Center's biochemical lab, for my studies. Here, my student ID."

The receptionist now looked at the figure to see if it fits the picture of the ID. Frizzled orange hair, check. Facial features, inconsequential. Physique checks out. "Mr. Ryan Dale?" she read off his ID card. This, too, was mere formality.

"That's me," the student brightly smiled. No reciprocation from the receptionist, who returned to her computer.

She let her fingers do the work while her migraine worsened by the minute. Upon the student's Key-board's arrival, she pressed the red shift button to have a substitute contractor, requested an early leave to recuperate in her house.

---

The shift button in the guard post turned green just as he sent off the Secretary of State. The giant of a guard pressed it enthusiastically, and welcomed the other guard, comparatively smaller, yet still a big man nonetheless. He saluted the one that would take over his post with a hearty smile and a boisterous, "Thank YOU for your SERVICE and PUNCTUALITY!"

"Umm... Likewise, Sir."

The upbeat one observed the timid face of the guard, then realized this was a new face. "SAY! I haven't seen you around, HAVE I?"

"N-no, Sir, I was just scouted into the GRC Protection Squad, this will be my first official job, fresh out of the training grounds."

"WELL, if you're SCOUTED, then you must be rather TALENTED, NO?" the other, more timid guard had shrunk from the intimidating booms, though it wasn't meant to be intimidating. "LOOK ALIVE, SOLDIER!" that lifted the other guard's chin almost immediately, as if awakening him from a deep sleep.

"ENJOY the JOB, kiddo, WHY so GLOOMY? I'll see YOU in the Guard's CHAMBER when you're OFF your SHIFT! I'LL give you a TOUR around HERE!"

"I-I will be in your care, Mister..."

"Call ME Roger! And DROP the Mister! Welcome ABOARD the GRC... Sorry, what WAS your NAME?"

"Marshall Pearston, at your service, Sir! Roger, Sir!" a stiff salute to his senior in security.

"You'll get THERE!" and he walked off towards the chamber guffawing to himself, the smile fading only when he's entered his private quarters.

"Rhyme... Rivetta..." he muttered, before smiling a weak, defeated smile to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He repeated that name and allowed it to swim and sink into his mind, while sipping the hot beverage. All the gusto from when he was outside seemed to have been forcefully sucked out, and he fell into a state of stupor. He let out an exhausted sigh, and rested his body on a chair. Light was still reflected within those eyes. He swore he wouldn't allow the darkness to consume him ever again.

---

"... make...it... STOP, Métely!"

She laid on her bed, burying her face on her pillow, using her hands to exert more physical pressure on her aching head, hoping the physical pain would negate the hurt she was feeling inside.

The whisper in her head hissed at her, "Youuuu... realize what asking for my help means, yes?"

"Just...make it stop... please..." tears started to well up on her eyes, "...please..." she fell unconscious afterwards.

Slowly, she picked herself up from the bed, headed towards the bathroom and activated the mirror projection.

"It's not often I get to have control..." her fingers caressed her own face, as she stared back at her reflection, "My eyes swell from all the tears you cried at night, my shoulders still ache like hell, my stomach is grumbling..." she headed to the kitchen while continuing her monologue "...you ought to take better care of this body, Aria... You know as well as I do we can't keep depending on me."

She scratched the back of her head, "So subservient, I swear... just because your parents urged you to get a job... when they don't even take care of their daughter."

She was then reminded of the events that had happened leading up to this point, "Haha... but we did meet an interesting person today, didn't we...? What was her name...? Rhyme... Rivetta?"

She licked her lips as she unpacked a granola bar, ravenously wolfing it down. "Now, then... I wonder what I should do tonight... Now that I have control of this beautiful body..." she swiveled her head around to take in her surroundings with eyes of her own, instead of a secondhand vision. She then struck a knowing smile. "I've decided..."

---

Rhyme felt a slight chill up her spine while rewatching the recording, she wondered if she had yet to get used to the recording or the fact that an impending room was imminent. She commanded the temperature drone to make the room warmer.

The president had answered her message concisely with a simple, "Understood," and a longer postscript that read, "glad you're finally detaching from the conspiracy theories to do your job."

"Discord," she paused the recording and woke Discord up, "You'll help me pitch that nutty professor's project tomorrow, won't you?"

"You needn't ask. It's nothing new, to be honest, I'll just do what I've always done so you can keep your job. Why so passionate about this one, though? You used to just let me do all the heavy lifting for you without a care in the world about what any projects from the GRC would do for the world."

"Because this is serious and you might be able to convince the higher-ups this is essential-"

"I do believe there's potential in Professor Martinez's invention, yes, and it's definitely beneficial for-"

"Good! You already know what to say tomorrow, I'd expect no less!"

"But why so serious? I'm curious."

"It may just be able to buy us some time, for the incoming invasion, at least, if we can mass-produce it before they arrive. Maybe we can set the coordinates to a remote island and regroup ourselves, mentally steel ourselves when the invasion is happening and-"

"Forgive me for even thinking for a moment that you're attempting to change for the better."

---

Jacquel opened his eyes, unable to sleep. His head was filled with numbers and theories. He looked straight at his wife's sleeping face. Serene, tranquil, soothing. She stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, reminiscing their younger days, their marriage, the people who were after her... he tilted his head, averting his unstoppable thoughts elsewhere. There was no need to stress over it. Guards protected the GRC 24/7/365, going on constant shifts to keep the Center running even when The Sun was out.

"To shine a light to a newer, braver future" indeed...

His retina captured their daughter, nestling towards her mother while sucking on her thumb.

"I will never... ever... let any harm befall these two..." Jacquel made a silent vow in the night, "I'll have to keep inventing, I don't want to overestimate myself..."

He sat up his bed in the dark. He was heading back to the lab, when he looked back at his two cherished treasures.

"I will protect you... I promise..."

He gave his daughter an affectionate pat on the head, and his wife a kiss on her forehead. His health was deteriorating, but he concluded he could make do. He wasn't about to die and leave his family. As long as his body allowed it, Jacquel would keep on tinkering in his lab, mixing up chemicals, assembling prototypes, experimenting by trial and error, over and over again.

"For the safety of my family, I'll endure any failure and pain... until their peace is guaranteed."

Across the room, an ominous radar came to life, projecting the surroundings of the GRC, pinpointing the humans in it by color codes. This was an invention he would never pitch in the government as it was an infringement of privacy. Jacquel pinched the projection to reveal a wide, virtual shot of the Kuqala Continent, wherein the dots continued to beep, each colored differently, with the majority being yellow. The dots stopped spreading after a certain radius, which he kept track of, before tinkering the device's systems again to expand the surveillance.

He looked at the already developed potent weapons hidden among other doodads in the pure white shelves.

"I'll even be a criminal... or a monster."