The Neglected Possibility

John took a sip from the warm coffee, closing his eyes as he savored the taste which touched his buds and then went down his throat. He felt the liquid deal with the cold bearings in his system and he couldn't help but crave for more... which he eventually did.

The meeting had lasted for exactly two hours. Two whole hours! And at the moment, his whole body literally felt sore. Sitting in the same spot for over a hundred and twenty minutes was no child's play and it had been a while his body had gone through such tedious task. Physically, had it really been that long?

He tilted his head and his gaze landed on the bigger of the two flat screens he had in his office, the one just beside the office desk he was sitting behind — The Encryptor. He had connected the system into the projector which he had used project the message descriptions in the conference room during the two-hours meeting with the board.

Picture diagrams, documented ideas, end goals, possible outcomes... those were basically the things he literally trash-talked with the board today. At the end of the day, all went in his favor, except one who requested a more formidable analysis. Why? He was not quite pleased with the formulations used in the project.

And that was when he had a received a message in his head from Rasmus, telling him why the man was acting that way. That was also when the culprit behind the man's action was exposed to him and he made to try out something he hadn't tried with anyone else before... a not so perfected prowess.

[Did Dickson pay you enough to try sabotage my work?]

He had seen the man's frightened look when the message had gotten into his head. The man had looked at him directly because the voice was obviously just the same as his. And just as he was about to protest against what had happened, another message came into his head.

[How much do you like pain?]

Immediately, he felt a sharp pain in his head, making him groan in silence and it prompted him to keep quiet after. Up until the meeting ended, he made sure not to speak a word again, his fear made evident.

Brrrng...

The intercom immediately brought John back to the present. He shook his head and turned to look at the receiver before grabbing the device.

"Yes?"

"President Ruben," the voice of his secretary ringed in his ear, "there's a call for you from the receptionist office. Should I put you through?"

"Please do," He said and instantly, a beep could be heard, indicating what the secretary was doing.

After some seconds, he heard the voice of one of the receptionists. "President Ruben, the police are here to see you,"

He had his gaze narrowed in confusion when he heard that, dropping the mug on the desk immediately. "The police? Did they state their reason for coming?"

"No, they didn't. They only mentioned something about wanting to meet you for questioning,"

"How many of the officers are there?"

"Just two."

"Hmph," He hummed in response, "In that case, direct them up to the 57th floor. I'll be meeting them in the conference room." And he hung up the call.

He stood up, still confused as he kept on wondering what had prompted a visit from the police.

"Do you know the reason behind their surprising visit?" He questioned the being standing beside him as he adjusted his coat.

"Something about an attack..."

"What has that got to do with me?"

"You will know very soon."

He turned to look at the being who decided not to give him the complete details when it could. He couldn't understand what Rasmus was thinking or trying to achieve. Could it be it was trying to make him less reliant of it? If that was the case, then it was definitely working because he himself had been trying to work things out without the help of the being.

He arrived at the conference room in just a minute, sitting at the rear of the round table as he awaited the unplanned visitors.

The double door creaked open and he turned to see two men walk into the wide room with the aid of a guard. One was in a casual corporate wear and the other in a police uniform having the logo of the SAPD(San Angels Police Department) on the shirt. The guard went back after he received a nod from his superior.

"President John Ruben, good day to you." The one who looked to be the superior spoke, his bushy mustache dancing with his lips as he did that. The holster attached to the belt around his waist revealed he had come armed.

"Officers, please, take a seat," John gestured toward the side seats and they took the initiative. "So, what can I do for you?" He asked after.

"I am Detective Inspector Blyde Dember from the Downtown Hill District police station," the senior officer introduced himself then pointed to his companion, "and this is Lieutenant Holland,"

John looked at the odd-looking man who made to introduce himself and his colleague. He listened attentively, his left knuckle on his chin as a support. But on hearing the words: 'Downtown Hill', his mind snapped as he made up the original possibility of their visit, as Rasmus had hinted... Stephen Ryder!

"Okay?" He urged the man to continue, his expression still made neutral.

"Actually, there's a case involving the brutal attack of a man called Stephen Ryder. He works as a reporter in Tymes Network and was found unconscious somewhere around his place of residence,"

John gave a questioning look to the man. Inwardly, he was confused. How on earth did he get linked up with the man? "What do I have to do with it?" He used his hand to gesture an uncertainty and that was when the man decided to continue.

"The truth is, we received a report from someone that you were last seen at Stephen Ryder's place just before he was attacked."

A wry smile escaped his lips. 'So, that is it,' he thought. 'Who could have actually ratted me out?'

"Detective Dember, am I right?" He asked the senior officer for confirmation.

"Yes, you are right," the man nodded in affirmation.

"Okay. So, you found out I was in his place through a report made by who, if I may ask?"

"I'm sorry sir, but that is a confidential information. We have to keep the identities of our witnesses private in order not to endanger their lives. That's our number one priority,"

[Ras— mus, W— ho?]

"And that is what I like too, Detective Dember. Privacy... spelt in seven letters. But it seems people care not to respect it again."

"I'm sorry if we're disrupting your private space but we can't just refute the words of a report. Thats not how's it done. And we'll like it if you cooperate with us."

John made to lean on the seat, observing the other two before he eventually spoke. "Do you have any evidence of me being there in the first place?"

"No, but the words of—"

"Words cannot prove anything, Detective Dember. Should I start teaching you how to do your job?"

The detective's expression twitched in annoyance at his disrespectful comment. "There's no need to. But we'd like to know where you were earlier that day."

"I went out for a stroll in my car," He trurthfully stated.

"To where?"

"Nowhere in particular,"

"There has to be somewhere you went to, President Ruben,"

"Well, my privacy was recently foiled and I guess you know already that it hasn't been long I recovered from a coma. I had to take a stroll to recover my weak bones. Say you, is there anything wrong with that?"

"Alone?"

"Yes," John nodded. "alone."

"And why, if I may ask? You always move in company of your guards but you simply chose to go alone on that day of all days. Doesn't that mean you had yourself involved in something out of the ordinary?"

"Don't you think your questions are becoming quite daunting? They're becoming rather obnoxious enough that I really wish to ask you to take your leave right now," John snapped in rebuttal.

DI Dember was unfazed as he maintained his calm expression from before. "Daunting? But I only asked for details of your whereabouts that day. There's certainly nothing daunting in it except I struck a nerve."

John immediately shot him a glare, releasing his aura which unknowingly caused the man to flinch. "I believe you've overstayed your welcome, Detective Dember. You and your companion, I'd like to ask both of you to leave."

"But we're not done interrogating you, President Ruben. Don't you—"

"Hogan!" John interrupted and called out the guard standing outside the room who immediately got into the room soon as he heard his name. "Please, escort the officers out," He instructed.

The bodyguard in his corporate outfit went to the officers and did as told. Just before all three went out of the room, John spoke, "Detective Dember, get your facts right before coming here again. 'Cause I know you'll definitely come back soon enough to apologize. Have a good day,"

The door closed behind the three and John had his gaze directed at the door even after a minute. He finally smiled and looked at the being who stood quietly by the side.

"So, Ryan Stones, is it? I don't know how he found out but I guess it's time to pay him a visit,"

"I hope you do not try anything drastic when you meet with him."

John narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Why? Are you trying to protect him?"

"For all we know, he might be the other chosen one." Rasmus said.

"Is he?" John was in disbelief.

"I am not entirely certain. Although I have been unable to achieve the signs I am meant to when I feel the presence of the other chosen one, his strange demeanor and the lack of soul connection with him makes me believe he is the one. However, there is one way to find out."

"How? I'd very much love to know," John said, feeling eager to hear but making sure his voice was still as lowly maintained as possible.

"Close contact," Rasmus stated. "The best close contact will make me get the right answer. But that has to be done through a physical entity... You!"

"What! Me? No, I can't do that. How am I even going to do that?"

"It is the only way. You just have to meet him, nothing else. Trust me, there is nothing much to be done."

John hesitated before nodding in understanding. "Very well then. Be rest assured that I will meet with him soon. Anything it takes for you to find out the truth behind his strange persona,"

'John. There is so much to this you do not know. So much.'