A few more hours quietly came by, with the arcanists in the suitcase each doing something on their own.
Vertin and Sonetto were busy filling up a report to their superiors, while Sotheby and Regulus were chatting together. Isaac and Druvis, meanwhile, stopped the cabin's construction and had a simple meal together, while X and Mr. APPLe discussed matters relating to coffee, for some reason.
All in all, despite the tragedy that recently occurred last night, all of them still needed to keep moving on.
Regulus, Sotheby, and Druvis lost their eras in the Storm, while Vertin lost a friend to it. Even so, they simply cannot wallow in their sadness and must continue on living, their only option being that they could only reminisce over the past and remember it dearly.
As time passed by, soon, the operatives from the Foundation finally arrived and knocked on Vertin's suitcase.
Vertin came to meet them and briefly discussed some matters before moving on to a row call of the arcanists present — as to make sure that everyone present is recorded. After doing so, some of the Foundation operatives left the suitcase to carry it back to the Foundation, while some stayed to keep watch over the new unregistered arcanists that Vertin had picked up.
With all things said and done...
It was now time for them to return to St. Pavlov Foundation — the so-called 'beacon of humanity and arcanists.'
---
The trip back to the Foundation wasn't that bad, truth he told. The operatives outside handled the suitcase quite well, and those inside didn't have to worry about any inconveniences that the travel might bring.
Of course, needless to say, other than Vertin, Sonetto, and X, none of the other arcanists present knew where the headquarters of the Foundation was nor did they know how to enter it. They were simply called out when the suitcase was finally delivered to the entrance and were put through a screening.
"Name?" A Foundation staff asked while holding the file Vertin submitted.
"Isaac."
She checked out a list. "Are you a Beyond, Awakened, Mixed, Infected, or natural Arcanist?"
"...a natural Arcanist." He replied succinctly.
"Have you ever been affiliated with any faction with arcanists associating themselves with the Manus Vindictae?"
"Not really, no."
The staff then turned to another page, read it briefly, before asking another question. "Can you confirm that you were summoned from the Timekeeper's suitcase rather than the Storm?"
"I can attest to that, yes." He nodded as he spoke candidly.
"How often do you lose control of your arcanum?"
"Not that much. It just happens when I don't pay close attention to it, but once I do notice it, I can quickly regain control."
The staff continued to write down her additional notes to Vertin's submitted document while questioning Isaac. As for him, he honestly felt quite uncomfortable.
It was because many were currently staring at not only him, but also the others — Druvis and Sotheby.
Regulus and Mr. APPLe had already been registered in the Foundation so they didn't have to do a thorough screening, but they were still eyed at too.
'Don't you all see arcanists coming here every time Vertin comes back from a Storm? Why the need to stare...' Although Isaac tried his best to hide it, he still couldn't contain his scowl. He felt like an animal being looked at in a zoo — like a lower individual.
He hated it.
Of course, as an arcanist, this treatment was quite common — still, it was too much especially coming from an organization that takes in arcanists as its duty.
After a while, their group was finally allowed to bypass the screening and were led to a distant wing of the Foundation — the farthest one, too, located in the west, detached from the main building and the rest — covered by a forest. A little bit over the top, to be honest.
While they went there, Vertin was called by her superiors and had to leave them be for a while.
Arriving there with some guards, they were then led to their own rooms, separated and watched by surveillance officers.
Truly, the Foundation felt more like a prison than anything else they claim themselves to be.
And Isaac agreed with that notion.
Looking at the room given to him — a rather nice but stale spacious bedroom — he couldn't help but grimace at the sight of it. "...this is no different from a prison cell."
There was nothing to do; and they were being watched at all times. If they're not prisoners, then what were they?
Of course, Isaac simply cannot accept this. Not now, nor in a long shot.
Slowly walking towards his bed, he felt it for a moment before sitting down. After being comfortable enough, he began to devise his plan. "This is gonna take a while, but... It's gonna pay off later."
With that said, he paused for a moment, before using his arcanum. Suddenly, a thin grayish-white fog began to manifest around him before spreading out in all directions.
The fog scattered all over the room before eventually finding a locked air vent. Then, as if having a mind of their own, they entered the vent and began spreading all over the ventilation system.
Due to their natural characteristics indistinguishable from any other natural fog, none of the Foundation's systems picked up anything anomalous about the thin — almost unseen — mist spreading in the air vents.
"That's good enough..." Sensing his fog spread successfully, a wry smile appeared on his face as he had successfully initiated his plan. "The fog shouldn't coalesce if I keep monitoring it from time to time... So long as it spreads throughout the entire building and manages to go unnoticed for a few days, then I can then spread it out further outside..."
Isaac had a reason for doing all of this. Truth be told, he had not been honest during his questioning both by Vertin and the Foundation Staff.
In truth, he could do much more with his fog.
The abilities he had shown so far were not all of what he has to offer — he still had quite a few more tricks up his sleeve. One such trick was the first technique he used when he first learned how to utilize his arcanum that he has yet to show off to anyone.
Touching the fog around him with his palm, he closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, Isaac's form suddenly became incorporeal — his body suddenly became a blur as he swiftly turned into a gaseous existence, turning into a grayish-white fog.
Soon after, his whole body became intangible and blended in with the fog around him — making it seem like he disappeared — before dispersing.
A moment later, the fog churned at a certain part of the room before coalescing, and Isaac's figure materialized once more.
This was Isaac's most common use for his arcanum — the ability to blend in and become a fog himself.
He mainly used this ability to travel around, but it can also be used in combat — such as flickering and dodging.
"Not fast enough... Did I lose touch with this trick?" He murmured to himself, noticing that it had taken him longer to disappear and materialize than it was before. "Not good... Gonna have to practice again..."
It had been a long time since he last used this ability, as such, he was a bit rusty. But with a few days' worth of practice, he should be back at his previous level in no time.
After all, this was the first technique he created with his arcanum.
Sensing that his fog was now slowly drifting all over the western building, he felt satisfied and decided to leave it alone for a while, letting it spread on its own.
Then, sitting down on his bed once more, he gazed out of the window to see the night sky and the moon shining down upon his face.
Below the moon's radiance, the monotone gray walls of the Foundation laid right in front of his eyes in the distance, its imposing and domineering presence belittling his meager existence.
At the sight of it, he subconsciously clenched his fists as a wistful expression appeared on his face.
"...soon..."
Soon, the third chapter shall commence. He doesn't know which day, but it was bound to happen soon.
So before that, he had to make use of his limited time to quickly set up his plans to tilt the scales to their favor.