Elizabeth blinked. The brain-fog obscuring her mind cleared up, allowing her to inspect her surroundings. She sat on a wooden chair, inside an office. A very minimalistic one, with just a brown couch, a coffee table, and a cream colored metal desk at the back. Behind the desk was a handsome young man, maybe a few years older than her. His deep, blue eyes and his soft smile had a disarming quality to them, putting Elizabeth at ease for a moment. It was raining outside, so the entire atmosphere had a serene mood to it.

She then remembered to panic. Where was she? How did she get here? Did this guy kidnap her? Sure, he was hot, but that just made her question the situation even more. He's probably a demented sociopath with sinister intentions. A copy of today's Xeistoria Post rested on his desk, next to a red tin can. Maybe he's a fan… or a stalker! Or maybe someone with a grudge against The Post. But why kidnap her? She wasn't important to the paper, just a sophomore journalist. Her articles were trivial, student culture pieces, nothing heavy hitting. The man's posture was very stiff, very rigid, like he was on-guard for a sudden attack. Even his smile gave Elizabeth an eery feeling after a few seconds of silence. It looked practiced. Fake. Like it was chiseled into the face of a breathing statue.

At this point, Elizabeth's leg trembled slightly. The man must have noticed this, because right afterwards he said:

"Can you speak…?"

"Uhh… yes?"

"Oh man, what a relief!" He relaxed his body and slumped forward. "You had me worried there. Hypnotism sometimes messes up basic body functions for a while."

Elizabeth squinted her eyes and patted herself to make sure she was alright. "Hypnotism? What are you talking about?"

"You grabbed that talisman, right?" He pointed at the weird coin resting on his desk. "That belongs to my brother. He's a bit of a scatterbrain, so back when he was sixteen, our dad enchanted it to make sure he didn't lose it. Whoever picks it up is magically compelled to bring it back to him."

"Magic…? Wait a second… I remember now! That psychic investigator at the office! He left it there and I was supposed to throw it in the trash. But… I… How did I even get here?"

"First off, we're not psychics; we're paranormal investigators. We can't read minds, we can't see the future, and we can't talk to your deceased loved ones. Second, I already told you how you got here. It's called hypnosis. I mean, even lay-people know about hypnotism, right?"

"I mean, yes, I know what that is, but…"

"But it doesn't exist…?"

Elizabeth glanced downwards. "Yeah… Look, I'm sorry. I'm all about tolerance and respecting beliefs different from mine, and I can tell you uhh… believe what you're saying, but I'm not about to accept I was magically hypnotized or whatever."

The man smirked. "Okay. Let's say assume I'm crazy here. Magic isn't real and I'm just a freak trying to deceive you. What other, non-magical explanation can you come up with for being here?"

"I… I don't know! Let me think…" Elizabeth bit her bottom lip for a few seconds. "Maybe you drugged me with some strange chemical. That's why all I remember is a blur!"

"Okay, but if you were impaired, that would mean you couldn't walk, right? How did you get here?"

"I was carried? If you're drugging me, then you're not above dragging me away in a white van."

The man let out a big laugh. "Fine, let's say I did drug you and I did drag you away in a white van. If that were the case, what would I achieve with all this?"

"Maybe it's revenge! Or desperation! You're pissed 'cause the newspaper won't let you advertise on it, so you you want to convince me magic is real. That way, I'd write an article about you guys and your failing business would flourish from the exposure."

The man glanced downwards and frowned. "Failing? Sure, business has been slow, but..." He perked up. "I'm getting side-tracked. Don't you think that's… a bit contrived? If it were night, and I actually owned a car, maybe this could be a kidnaping. But taking you out in broad daylight? You're not even tied up! Come on. Even then, why the hell would you write about us, and help us out, if we were keeping you prisoner? The only thing that would do is get us arrested. Also, if you don't believe you walked here, you can just go and check out the monorail security cameras. I know someone over at the station that can get you the tapes, if you want."

"Okay. Maybe I didn't get dragged away. Maybe I did walk over here. But that doesn't mean your brother didn't drug me at the university! He could've easily dosed me and told me to walk over here to consider the existence of magic."

"Right…" The man leaned back on his chair. "Let's go with that. So, tell me, how did you know exactly where to go? I'm guessing you never knew about the existence of this place before. Are you telling me that my brother actually drugged you and gave you detailed instructions to reach some barely identifiable office in the middle of the 5th district?"

"Maybe?"

The man rolled his eyes. "If you knew my brother, you'd know how unlikely that is. He's not a very… patient person. If he actually bothered to give you instructions, I'd be the one questioning reality here." He opened a desk cabinet on his left, taking out a glossy sheet of paper and a pen. "Look, I'm not trying to convince you magic is real or anything. Seriously, you can leave right now. But first," he scribbled on the paper and handed it to Elizabeth, "here's a coupon, for your troubles. I really hate it when Al can't keep track of his stuff. You're the fifth person since we got here that's randomly walked into our office because of him."

Elizabeth took the coupon and read it. One complete investigation, free of charge, courtesy of the Wilfery brothers. It even specified that any customer request would be fulfilled, something that apparently had a hundred dollar value. Elizabeth appreciated the gesture and would probably forget about this whole thing in a couple of days. She could tell from the man's face that he was truly remorseful about whatever happened to her. Still, this coupon was basically worthless to her. Even if she was actually hypnotized by a talisman, it's not like she had any use for it. She didn't feel stalked by a spirit or burdened by some curse. Well, maybe she was cursed with bad luck, but Elizabeth just figured that was part of the human condition.

She then folded the coupon into her pocket, smiled at the man, and said:

"Thanks. I'll uhh… I'll let you know if any demons chase after me."

"Heh… yeah, you do that. Before you leave though, can you tell me why Al left his talisman at a news office? You said something about not being able to advertise…?"

"Oh, that? Well, he had a meeting with my editor right before mine, and when my boss said no to him…"

[Break]

Al's freefall gave him an opportunity to contemplate a subject he always found trivial during his youth. Maybe it was a defense mechanism that prevented him from freaking out, or a random idea that sprung up, but as the wind raced by his ears and muffled every other sound, the only thing he could do was think about it. In the arcane arts, the difference between theory and practice has been a topic of heated debate for centuries now. Some argue that a theoretical framework is a necessary evil that can easily turn into dogma if not monitored carefully. Others argue that, without a theoretical framework, young mages would just wander around aimlessly in their studies and never refine their craft to its fullest potential. Both sides had valid points, that much was obvious, but as Al plummeted towards the concrete sidewalk, he couldn't help but feel that the former was a bit more wiser than the latter.

One of the fundamentals of magic says that any type of energy can be converted into mana. Since his unique spell allows him to negate any type of foreign mana, he could, in theory, transform the kinetic energy of his impact into mana and negate said magical energy to shield himself from the force. Unfortunately, the problem Al found was that in practice, he would only have an incredibly short window of time to manage this conversion. The more he could feel gravity accelerated him, the less confidence he had in his skill to achieve this. He could easily end up splattered all over the ground. Even if he avoided this, his body could absorb too much mana, which would be a bigger problem than breaking his neck. It could tear up his organs, cause internal bleeding, and put him in excruciating pain before dying from shock. Mages called this phenomenon overheating, since it literally boiled people from the inside. Sure, his unique spell canceled the effects of any magic done on him, but the mana used didn't just go away. It's a type of energy, after all. You can't destroy it or create it.

Not many people knew this, but Al actually acted like a lightning rod for mana. He's capable of absorbing it for a short period of time, but if he were hit with too many spells, he'd reach his body's limit and die. Normally, this wouldn't happen in a fight. The enemy mage would run out of mana and end up fatigued before the overheating could kill Al. The pavement, on the other hand, didn't have this problem. It had the entire planet's rotation backing it up in terms of energy.

With his body stiff from adrenaline, Al felt oddly serene. Maybe he should just let himself crash without protecting himself. It'd be a quicker death than overheating. Less painful, too. The odds weren't in his favor here, so banking on the slim chance that he would pull this off flawlessly seemed a bit foolish. His life had been extremely shitty up until this point, and it didn't look like it was getting any better in the future, so this didn't seem that unreasonable from his perspective.

Ony pain and suffering waited for him if he accomplished his goals. The only reason he hadn't killed himself yet was because of his promise to Joshua. Destroying the Holy Church of Catherine was only a distant dream he had, one that he would never accomplish if he died here. Then again, if he couldn't survive falling from more than a dozen stories, he never had a chance to begin with. Al closed his eyes and smiled. He would just let fate decide.

He then opened his eyes and screamed. Of course he wasn't going to give now. That's just his fear of overheating talking. He be an idiot if he just allowed himself to die without trying. He then tore through the cloth awning of a nearby building. He yelped, tumbled in the air and tore through another awning, before falling on the concrete pavement with a thud. Al groaned and remained face up on the ground, letting the rain wash over his face. The awnings softened up his impact, but they also broke his concentration. Since the protection his mana offered wavered, his collision ended up being more damaging than it should have been. In the end, he didn't have to worry about his gambit. He also felt somewhat uncomfortable with how dark his thoughts went, but he pushed those thoughts away as much as he could. Al then stood up, flexed his body, and cracked his stiff neck. As he limped through the street, he realized he was in the fifth district, not that far away from his apartment. At least he could assume he was safe now. Those enforcers wouldn't go after him this deep into Margaret's territory.

Al felt his jacket grow warm and traversed the district in a trance, still confused about what just happened. Professor Henry Martin? That guy they found dead at the university? Ignoring the surprising fact that he was involved with mages, Al couldn't help but wonder why the Martins didn't want his death investigated. If he was a member of their family, wouldn't they want to figure out who killed him? Whatever. They probably have their own reasons for wanting to keep this matter private. He was pissed that this Rellik guy thought he could order him around, but he wasn't about to start a fight with an entire family.

Hopefully, that bald guy was wrong and Margaret wouldn't rope them into this mess. It's not like they can afford to work pro-bono forever. Al then grinned as he turned a corner. The office was just across the street, and a hot bath finally awaited him. He'll just go upstairs, get incredibly high on weed, and forget this awful day ever happened. Al stopped just outside his office window. He narrowed his eyes and saw his brother was behind the desk, talking to a girl with waist-long, blonde hair. A client? Joshua then noticed Al, stared at him, and frowned in anger. The girl then turned around, pointed at Al, and nodded. Al swallowed. Whatever was going on inside did not bode well for him.

[Break]

"It doesn't matter what he called you," snapped Joshua, "you still shouldn't have cussed him out!"

"You just weren't there!" said Al, leaving a trail of water as he walked closer. "That guy was an insufferable douche. I'd be surprised if anyone could be in his company for more than five minutes without wanting to punch him in the face."

Joshua massaged his closed eyelids and said:

"You do realize that, coming from you, that doesn't mean much, right?" He sighed. "I bet you didn't even consider what your outburst could do to our brand."

"Our brand? Who the fuck cares about brand recognition if we're only known as scammers?"

"I'd rather be seen as a polite scammer than as an investigator with a short fuse."

"Are you even listening to yourself? Why would you think that?"

"At least the polite scammer is approachable! Who would want to hire us if they think we're gonna scream at them?!"

Elizabeth slid downwards into her chair as they continued to argue. Shifting her eyes from brother to brother, she listened to their conversation with a sheepish look on her face. At this point, she just wanted to leave, but the rain outside had intensified into a violent downpour. It seemed like she was stuck here until the weather cleared up. All she could do now was watch their bickering. The brother she saw earlier looked like he had just fallen down some stairs. His slight limp on his way to the desk and the scratch on his left cheek indicated something happened to him, but the one she assumed was the older brother, Joshua, didn't mention anything about it. Weird. They certainly were an odd pair. They didn't even look related. Where Joshua was broad-shouldered, tall, with a strong jawline, Al was slender, shorter by a few inches, with a sharper chin. Thunder exploded in the background loudly, causing Elizabeth to shriek in a high pitch. Al then looked at her, turned to Joshua, and said:

"Who's the chick? A client?"

"Chick?" said Elizabeth. "I'm right here, you know."

"She's our guest." Joshua frowned at Al. "A journalist that picked up Requiem after you left it at the newspaper. If you stopped twirling it around your fingers so much, this wouldn't happen so often. One of these days you're gonna find yourself without it when you really need it."

"I uhh…" Al glanced downwards. "Yeah… You're right. Consider that lesson learned."

Joshua widened his eyes. "D-did you just say I'm right?"

Al nodded slowly. "We kinda need to talk about something important. It uhh, it can't really wait." He stared at Elizabeth. "Privately."

Elizabeth crossed her arms and pouted. "It's not like I want to be here. Go ahead; don't mind me. I won't pay attention to whatever wizard stuff you guys talk about. I'm just waiting for the rain to pass."

"Mage" said Al. "Wizards are old hermits that never get laid."

"Right..." Joshua chuckled. "Because you get laid so often."

Al blushed. "Y-you motherfu-"

"Look," Joshua waved Al off, "the only reason she's is this office is because of you. Throwing her out into the rain is out of the question, and leaving her alone while we go upstairs is just rude."

Al remained silent for a few seconds, rolled his eyes, and said:

"Fine. I'm not in the mood to argue. I just ran into some angry mages, and I barely managed to escape. We need to be extra careful from now on because I think I just made us an enemy of an entire family."

Joshua furrowed his brow. "What did you do…?"

"Nothing! I swear it was unprovoked! Mostly… Let's not play the blame game here. The important thing is that we don't walk into Martin territory without a good reason. They were kinda worried about us investigating a professor's murder, the one everyone's talking about. Apparently he was a mage, and Margaret was involving the tribunal, and… You already know about this, don't you?"

Elizabeth had noticed that as Al kept talking, Joshua's face sunk deeper into worried anxiousness. It seemed that he did indeed already know about all of that. The young reporter then ignored everything else they said, focusing on one single fact. Did he just mention that Professor Martin was a mage? These guys were really nuts. It's one thing to believe in the supernatural; it's not all that different from what religious folk believe. It's another thing to come up with insane conspiracy theories about a man's murder. Sure, his death was mysterious. Strange, even. But killed with magic? That was just stupid. Her crazed feminist theory was leagues above that.

"Well, we can't really do much about it" said Joshua. "Margaret already told me we have to do it. I doubt we can just stay out of the Martin's way. Honestly, this just paints them as suspects in my eyes. We might need to look into them if we expect any answers. First, though, we should go over to the morgue and see if Lenny can tell us anything about the body. Knowing something about the spell used will give us something to start with."

Elizabeth was taken aback by this, but tried her best to hide it. First Joshua offered to show her the station's security tapes, and now he was talking about going to the morgue. Were these guys really that well connected? Even if they were delusional, maybe they could have access to information she could never get by herself. Plus, they didn't look like idiots. Brainstorming with them could end up being a productive use of her time. Elizabeth raised her hand slightly and said:

"Umm… excuse me? I don't want to intrude here, but I'm actually doing research on Professor Martin's death. Now, I don't really believe all of this magic stuff, but how are you guys so sure it was done with a spell? Isn't it more likely that it was done through… normal means?"

"If you don't want to intrude," said Al, "then don't intrude, normie."

"Al, stop being a dick." Joshua looked at Elizabeth. "You actually bring up a fair point. I'm not entirely convinced that it was done with magic, but given the circumstances and who he was, I just find it unlikely. I mean, where would you get enough water to drown him?"

"The university pool" said Elizabeth. "It's two miles away from the student center, but it's possible it was done there."

Joshua looked thoughtful for a second. "Okay, then why do you think he was found near the student center?"

"Originally, I thought the murderer was trying to hide the body, but was forced to leave it behind to avoid getting caught. Maybe he/she heard someone nearby and ran away or something like that. Now, I'm thinking it was more deliberate. To communicate a message. My biggest fear is that this is just the start of something bigger than one murder. Like a serial killer."

Joshua nodded. "That actually seems plausible. You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Call it a journalist's curiosity. All in all, I find it more likely than… magic."

Al frowned, walked up to the desk, and grabbed his talisman. "Really now? Let's see what you think after this!" The weird coin shimmered with bright light, growing into a malleable substance until shaping itself in the form of a handgun. It's grip was trimmed with the same ebony wood of the coin, with its barrel made from the same metal of the stars surrounding it. A symbol was engraved in the corner where its hammer should be, which it didn't have. It was a full moon surrounded by seven stars, same as the coin of its original shape. "Tell me, oh mighty journalist, how in the world did I just do this without magic?"

Elizabeth's mouth jaw dropped during the whole process, her eyes widening the longer it went on. What she just saw was, by all means, impossible. It grew in size and shape, way bigger than the coin she'd picked up. Her breathing fastened for a moment, but she quickly recovered her composure and said:

"That's… There's no way… Wait a second, why didn't you just do that in front of Frank? He wouldn't have called you a scammer if you'd showed him that!"

Al reverted it back into its coin shape. "Right, because brandishing a weapon when someone pisses you off works soooo well to de-escalate the situation." He slid the talisman into his back pocket. "Listen, it's happened to me in the past and the last thing I needed was another mess on my hands. I did it just now because we're in our home, but we don't make it a habit to show off what we can do. Mages are very paranoid about stuff like this. You could be an enemy gathering data on us."

"Or hypnotized to spy on us" added Joshua.

"And even if you don't have any ill will towards us," said Al, "your mind could easily be read by someone who does. In the end, there aren't many situations where a mage can justify sharing their unique spell."

"But you just did…" said Elizabeth.

"No, Requiem's a weapon. It's minor enough that I don't mind showing it this once. A unique spell is a mage's ace in the hole. I'm not about to share that with you… Though I doubt I can show you mine, even if I wanted to. It's kinda weird."

"Weird is an understatement" said Joshua. "More like annoying pain in the ass for other mages."

Al smirked. "Yeah… it is, isn't it?"

Elizabeth couldn't process this situation clearly. The sheer absurdity of what was happening had her convinced this was just a mean-spirited prank. Any moment now, cameramen would come out and laugh at her for believing magic is real. Still, if this wasn't a prank, then the possibility of the murder being done with magic opened up an entirely new angle for the story. One she wasn't familiar with, that would require help from experts on the subject. If she was truly serious about finding the truth, then she would have to consider the involvement of magic, at least for a bit, before she could say that she really did her best cover the story. Frank wanted her to challenge her own point of view, and Elizabeth couldn't think of a better way to do this than by delving into the occult. Besides, deep down, she thought that everyone wants to believe in magic. Given the evidence she just saw, the rational thing to do was to investigate it further. Elizabeth then smiled and said:

"So, since you guys are going to investigate this case, and I'm doing a story on it, shouldn't we-"

"No" said Joshua. "I'm sorry, but you can't tag along with us."

"What?! Why?"

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into" said Al. "Hunting down a mage can be incredibly dangerous. Seriously, normies usually think they'll discover some wonderful place hidden from the rest of society where magic is real, like in some fictional story. But no, it's quite literally the opposite of that. It's cold, gruesome, and uncaring, just like the rest of the world. Reality isn't like fantasy. Even knowing about magic can ruin your life. We have no obligation to help you, and there's no way you'll convince us to do otherwise."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow with a smug grin. "No way, huh? Then what about this?" She got out the coupon Joshua had given her and waved it around with her hand. "One complete investigation, free of charge? Any customer request fulfilled? Am I to understand this is a lie?"

Al narrowed his eyes at Joshua with annoyance. Joshua scratched his neck and said:

"Well, I mean, it isn't supposed to be used like that…"

"I. Don't. Care. I'm searching for the truth here, and I probably won't get far without your help. Let me tag along, or else."

"Or else what?" said Al, crossing his arms.

"I'll write an exposé piece about a couple of polite scammers that lie about their promotions."

The brothers remained silent as they contemplated her threat. Slowly, the rain outside dissipated into a soft drizzle that shortly thereafter died out. Elizabeth held her breath, hiding her insecurity over the statement. Frank wouldn't let her publish something like that. Even if he thought they were scammers, her editor wouldn't want to give these men any publicity, good or bad. This was just a bluff, a lie she was sure she couldn't keep up for long. The anxiety started to overwhelm her. In a few seconds, she'd break down and apologize. Joshua then hung his head in defeat and mumbled:

"Fine, just… don't write badly about us, okay?"