Fate Project : Collision

51 | Query

Phase 51
"It's an atrophy.
A mess of rhapsody.
Our very own catastrophe."
-A

RHINE

"0025."

"Incorrect Passcode."

"0026."

"Incorrect Passcode."

"0027," I mumble, terribly chaffed.

"Incorrect Passcode."

Great.

I exhale one exasperated sigh and slump back against the wall. This is just impossible. Twenty-seventh tries really did the trick on thinning out my patience and wearing down not only myself, but my hopes. Figuring out the pin's passcode without intel or information isn't exactly hopeless, it's merely senseless. I have to try at least ten thousands of possible combinations and I see no other way around it. Not when the information I needed can cost my life.

Like it already isn't.

Once again, my memories takes me back the moment when I met the girl. The moment that she and I paid dearly with our lives. It isn't fate. It's an atrophy. A mess of rhapsody.

Our very own catastrophe.

"What are you doing there?" calls out Czar.

Letting out another sigh, I slip the pin into my pockets and pretend to not hear her.

She clicked her tongue in irritation, "at least pretend to listen, you—"

"I didn't say I wasn't listening. I'm just ignoring you," I mutter under my breath, "at least, pretend to take the hints."

"Hey, I heard that!"

"Well, you were supposed to," I smirk at her.

"Already stirring up trouble, I presume?" says North as he approaches us, "to inform you, the preparations are done, so if you don't mind, try not to start the apocalypse before we depart."

Tonight, we are to set off and take the jet to East Cor in order to get to Lear's associate that owns a Cor Matrix. Apparently, it takes an entire week if we travel by aeromobile, three days if through aerocrafts, and a half a day via aerojets. Back in the Bridge, aerojets are a looming threat, a weapon of mass destruction. Never in my wildest dream did I imagine I will ride one in my life.

"I've sent all your identifications, check your s-mails," states Ace

"I've put the private aerojet under the name Ekaterina Gustav, which is yours, Alice, sweetheart," mentions Ace as Alice looks into her settings and gives a nod.

"Now, our cover is real basic," he instructs. "We're on a research trip, Airy and I are your instructors accompanying their students to East Cor, EA Institute of Education and Economics. Your research is about the assets, your developing a SAI (Systematic Artificial Intelligence) program that will be in charge of its operations. It's three main features are translations, suggestions, and—"

"Alright, that's enough, we got that part," Mia intervenes, "we're on a tight schedule."

"And the clock is ticking."

And then, we climb our way into the aerojet without another word.

Once I get a good look at the inside of the jet, an overwhelming feeling hits me. If the aerojet looks exceptional on the outside, where smooth canopy made of metals and glasses, and curves and structures welded indestructible, the inside looks way remarkable.