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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i>Memories. </i></span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"The one constant. When time has expired, when the material has expired... it's what ties us to Legacy. Our Legacy, and those that follow. The Legacy can be simple or complex. It could be a baby taking their first steps, to a source of extraterrestrial causality crashing down into the way of life otherwise known as conventional and the mundane. The steps that lead to running, climbing, jumping... soaring. The crash that leads to destruction. Catalyzation. Reconfiguration. Restoration. It doesn't have to be more than the synapses processing in the hippocampus, but it also could be so much more. It could be your everything. A biological RAM of life.</span><br/>
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<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Early machinations of serene winds and a beautiful breeze blowing through a vibrant fern, the laughter of would-be heroes and idols behind you as you crawl through. The endless days of celebration that you even exist, clashing of loud noise both melodic and prolepsis as you await the yearning to incite your feelings of nostalgia. Days of needing an escape, to which your retreat becomes someone else's duty and privilege to uphold in chivalry; the moments of warm tears &amp; sorrow that lead to gratification and contentment. The surge of excitement and laudation when you watch the heroes of man &amp; idols of Earth return from being paragons of change, hope, and ambition... their badass presence seemingly and subconsciously enhancing your own as you run to their arms. <br/>
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Cicero once said that <i>Memory is the Treasury and Guardian of All Things</i>. Well, I guess I've become Cerebrus.<br/>
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Because you know what my <i>most powerful</i> memory is? Watching the blood leak from the back of my lifeless Mother's head. </span><br/>
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<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">I guard that hell everyday as if it were my eternal missive. The whole point was to prevent the dead from leaving, right? In that respect, I think I make a fine compatriot of Hades. Serving my pain &amp; fire all in one, my isolation my only dark and twisted reward. In the abyss of memory I dwell, sinking and idle for all of waking infinitude. Until... the light called for me. A spark of causality that fostered a radiance in me I thought memory had buried forever. And I don't know what this light holds, nor do I longer know from which the darkness reaches. However, the True Guardians cherish all memories of both darkness and light. I need those guardians now, more than ever. <br/>
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Or maybe I don't. I don't owe them anything, and maybe they don't owe me anything. Maybe we never did. "</span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><b><u>VOLUME I: THE FRACTURED TANGENT</u></b></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">An inhale, a deeper exhale. </span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Emmy gathers her senses back as she roams the grounds of Zero University, relatively in the heart of uptown Zero City. It had been almost a day since she'd slept, spending most of her time after homework down in the CoU... well, <i>old </i>CoU quarters aka <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.datacenterknowledge.com%2Fsites%2Fdatacenterknowledge.com%2Ffiles%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2008%2F11%2Fdatalair.png&amp;hash=1f5304224f30ebc35d46e7664a6d991b" href="https://www.datacenterknowledge.com/sites/datacenterknowledge.com/files/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/datalair.png" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><b>The Blockhouse</b></a>. Ever since The Matrix reactivated, she had regained her vehement desire to get herself back into somewhat of a functional form. The shell of the true soul she'd placated over the years had made her so prone to isolation and dejection she was sure her siblings would think her a zombie when they saw her again.... if they even decide to show up. She had sent out the voice correspondence a couple of days ago, and had planned to follow up on it with in-person visits; And so she did. The siblings she knew she could reach that is. The mild scrapes and bruises on her from training served a constant reminder that she could speed up the process of recovery, but a deep seeded part of her wanted the feel the pain. <i>Welcome </i>it. If she was truly being candid with herself, she hadn't felt anything for years. Even in her self imposed shunnings from trying to lead a conducively normal social life such as dating, partying, etc. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(204, 204, 204)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"Hey Keylee!" </span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Emmy had to also remind herself that people called her by her legal name in the outside world. She'd been used to being <i>Emmy </i>or <i>Gold </i>for so long it took a while to carve that conditioning out of her mind. She turned to see an all-too-happy <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2F64.media.tumblr.com%2F5f11ba6eac5bd6928e1a2c91a8db684e%2Ftumblr_inline_pqnjw6OH4R1rqq37j_400.gif&amp;hash=279ad67f1e97614135dfd61cb25a3056" href="https://64.media.tumblr.com/5f11ba6eac5bd6928e1a2c91a8db684e/tumblr_inline_pqnjw6OH4R1rqq37j_400.gif" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Alejandro </a>walking towards her. She knew he liked her, and she also knew his hormones were raging and he still chose to run the patient path and hope that his efforts (or lack thereof) would go noticed. Given what Emmy was capable of, she noticed a lot more than he could possibly ever know. It was a matter of catching the small things like body langauge, gesturing, and even tone &amp; inflection. A part of her wanted to be a normal girl so bad, and just do what normal girls her age do. But with so much literal development of her mind, body, and senses.. she had the disposition of a jaded middle aged woman at this point. Of course, she could condition herself to simply give in to her senses. She didn't want to. Plus she did NOT want to deal with the potential fallout/awkwardness/interrogation of her older siblings, namely Tristan. Better the lad was left to his blissful ignorance. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(204, 204, 204)">"Are we still on?" </span><br/>
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Emmy tilted her head in slight confusion for a split second before the recall happened upon her. One week, three days, and fourteen hours ago she'd sent a text agreeing for them to study together for their mid-term. Not really knowing of the future events that were to transpire. Emmy puckered her lips and nodded in acknowledgement she was going to have to cancel. She smacks her lips with a remorseful look <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Yup. Nope. Sorry, my siblings are coming into town and we totally have this family thing we have to do... and the more I talk the more I realize how cliche and generic of an excuse that sounds but it's the truth. Scouts honor!"</span> Alejandro laughs, a warm and accepting look on his face. Ugh, why couldn't Emmy just say fuck it all? Even after all this time she's still dropping everything just to run to them, and they may not even show up! <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(204, 204, 204)">"I understand, well hey maybe I could come over there instead of you sticking to the library or my dorm room all the time? I feel bad always making you travel to or stay on campus just to help."</span> He was charmingly persistent, she gave him that much.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"> "Yeah see... my family is very uhhh <i>particular </i>people. Take my word for it, it's best not to. Rain check though?" </span><br/>
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Alejandro finally accepts defeat, Emmy spotting the underlying stress lines of how much it bummed him out. It was better this way. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(204, 204, 204)">"Trust me I get it, my <i>abuelita </i>always has her penace stare on standby for anyone she gets bad vibes about hah. Let me walk you to your car?"</span> Emmy nods as they stroll across the gorgeous campus and heads to the parking lot just outside the Engineering building. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"So... what vibes do you think your granny would have of me?"</span> She asks, a mild curiosity driven by a deeper intention as she internally criticized herself for even being so cheesy. Alejandro halts pace for a brief moment, looking at her intently. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(179, 179, 179)"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"She would absolutely love you."</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"> Emmy couldn't help but <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fimg.wattpad.com%2Fbdd6a027880c242d10deda955bb7c188c850eabe%2F68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4b4c4d74427239315f64515261773d3d2d3731313533323830372e313631386330356331383866346362633535383736353436323235342e676966&amp;hash=8aa37f6711bfab15006c5533e61ac82a" href="https://img.wattpad.com/bdd6a027880c242d10deda955bb7c188c850eabe/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4b4c4d74427239315f64515261773d3d2d3731313533323830372e313631386330356331383866346362633535383736353436323235342e676966" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">flourish </a>at the words, but also quickly snapping herself back into focus. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Cool cool nice nice."</span> She says as she reaches her car thankful to her brother Kenji he'd taught her how to drive, otherwise she'd have to Hulk jump or probably speed her way back home, risking impractical exposure.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"> "Talk to you later, thanks for understanding. you're pretty dope. I suppose."</span> She smirks before hopping in her car <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fmedia.tenor.com%2FbkEP7K-9wvoAAAAC%2Fford-mustang-classic-muscle-cars.gif&amp;hash=7f2dc57ac85789745bdb47e6c4d0c90c" href="https://media.tenor.com/bkEP7K-9wvoAAAAC/ford-mustang-classic-muscle-cars.gif" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Royal</a>. It was another one of the good uses of Chris' money he sent periodically. She found it at a used car lot and figured why the hell not? She didn't know too much about cars so she took about a week to watch various Youtube vids and some autodidact books found in Mother's library to make her somewhat knowledgeable. She leaves Zero University and heads back to the manor, which rested on the outskirts of the city just about a 15 minute drive from the campus. Mother knew what she was doing. It was close enough to the bustle of the city to maintain conventional appeal, yet rested on the brink of the rural coastline not too far away where it'd be secure and peaceful. Perfect to raise a family. <br/>
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She drives up to the maingate that prefaces the long path to the manor, entering in the code known by only eight other people in the world. Over the years a few paparazzi, tourists, and the like would approach and take photos of the place. But the rumors and stigma that surrounded this place was ay too powerful for anyone to ever remotely try to breach the gate and try their luck on what mystery or discovery remained on the other side. The gate powers open as Emmy zooms herself into the driveway with precision, quickly shutting off the ignition and heading inside. A faint beep could be heard on the edge roofing of the manor, with Emmy looking into a very well concealed camera. In almost a complete change of demeanor and attutude her entire being exuded discipline and hardened focus. She knew she had a lot she needed to get done, as she unlocked the main entrance with her key and immediately locked it back once she got inside. She made sure that all doors were locked upon entry via her encrypted phone, the one she <i>didn't </i>use for public operation. She checked the motion &amp; barometric sensors as well, only attuned not to go off for herself, her siblings, and Mother of course. She threw her brown leather jacket off and tossed it on a nearby couch as she headed directly for the Observatory Room. Mother loved looking at the stars in her free time. She would often take an upset Emmy and they'd look together, her feelings of displeasure quickly fading once she saw a high quality view of the cosmos. </span></span>​</div><br/>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 102, 255)">That's where The Matrix came from sweetheart... </span></i></span></span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 102, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><i>the incredible energy that made you and your siblings realize the special that was always inside you...</i></span></span></span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'"><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 102, 255)">Nine Stars that walk the planet. Psst... you are my brightest. </span></i></span></span><br/>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Emmy snaps herself back from reminiscing and focuses herslf not upwards towards the spiraling stairs leading to the <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ocregister.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2Fmigration%2Fmrb%2Fmrbvu7-b781155171z.120130810112938000g7u1f6rsb.2.jpg%3Fw%3D620&amp;hash=8ab1612828ae3e5d8f5aac2f935fdc18" href="https://www.ocregister.com/wp-content/uploads/migration/mrb/mrbvu7-b781155171z.120130810112938000g7u1f6rsb.2.jpg?w=620" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">apex</a>, but instead below her feet. A reinforced floor mirror that spread the entirety of the room refacted upwards at Emmy, looking down at her reflection and the loss of spirit in her eyes. She walks to one particular corner, where a sole looking glass stood bolted into a window sill. Emmy looked into the glass, as two green lights flashed from within...almost <i>beyond </i>the mirror that matched with Emmy's eyes. A clicking could be heard thereafter as the floor mirror opened up to a dark pit, rungs of stairs sliding out from the reinforced sheet material underneath. Emmy descended herself into the darkness, what was soon met with spots of light forming a pathway to a steel-titanium door. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><b>"Gold." </b></span>Was all that was said as a voice recognition program opens the door. Behind it was practically another underground residence. An interconnected series of hallways and segues that led to various and wonderous rooms. Ten bedrooms. Operations Room. Training Rooms. Archives. Control Room. Expedition Room. Personal bathrooms and showers. Bunker Room. And at the core of the architectual genuis of Mother's work... lie a condensed containment room surrounded by a perpetual energy with a beacon of light and radiance at its epicenter. The Matrix. She stopped and stared at its awe, still in disbelief that its luminescene of paracausal prototypics were before her yet again. The day it shut off was the day it seemed she lost it all. The only ways of life she'd ever known, vanished. Just like Mother's body. Just like the unknowing intruder's body. Emmy headed to the control room, the advanced network and framework of Mother's development digitally chiming as the doors slide open and she hops straight onto the supercomputer. She didn't need to tell them that she'd utilized a clever nuance of cyberlocation and crypto-triangulation to keep tabs on them, nor did they need to know until it was absolutely necessary. This felt as such. A twinge of nerves shot in her as the thought of them actually coming home really hit her. So much that was said last time... so much unsaid as well. Some just dropped off the face of the planet, their conditioned autonomy and will the only thing they wanted to rely on. They would cross that bridge when it inevitably dropped on their heads. For now, All Emmy was focused on was continuing what she'd been for the past 4 years. <br/>
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Absolution. </span></span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">"Task: Load CoU metalogs S1 through S9. If everyone comes... this is going to be a hell of a reunion." </span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Tahoma'">Through the gruff expression of weathered discernment on her face... a faint and distant hint of a simper arises stemmed by radicalized hope. She missed them. But she prayed for the chance to show them by absolutely going volcanic on each and every one of their asses. Sweet and precious gem baby Cerebrus was chomping at the bit. </span></span><br/>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Okay, start with the hardest first and then work your way down. That was the mentality Emmy had when looking onto the database of various locations of the siblings she could track. And of course she came across her sister Idris. To say their relationship had strained ever since that fateful day was an understatement. One of the quasi-de facto leaders of the CoU after Mother would be gone had disappeared in the wind. Emmy could still see the look on Idris' face when she returned to the manor to see a pool of blood with no body to account for it. Just Emmy and her tears. Things weren't really the same after that, she could tell her older sister had maybe even held her responsible in ways, just like Emmy did her. Why leave your baby sister to fight this devil of despair alone? Something that ate at Emmy over time. Nonetheless, she survived. She was her own support, and her own boost now. But still, duty called. Business, even.<br/>
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Emmy had managed to find Idris' location via cyberlocation, and sent her an encrypted video. She didn't bother to hide the scars and bruises on her face while recording, taking her secured phone and walking around The Blockhouse while talking.<br/>
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<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">'Hey Idris. Um, okay so. Funny thing. The Matrix is kinda on again?' </span></i>Emmy says in her best casual projection, almost feigning the weight of emotion (or absence of it) from the past 4 years as if nothing happened. Emmy takes the self-camera and hoists it over her right shoulder, showing the conduit room of The Matrix fully operational, its pulses and light fluctuating in the background with the perpetual wallowing of its energy being heard. Emmy had a slight smile on her face at the confirmation she wasn't going coocoo crazy.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)"> '<i>Tell me you see it too, right?? I don't know how... I don't know why... but all I know is it has to mean something yeah?? And maybe this is coincidence but... it came on a few moments after I read <b>this</b>...'</i> </span>Emmy holds up a manilla folder, labeled <b>Restricted </b>on the front. <i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">'I'm not going to reveal its contents over airwaves. But it's... alarming to say the least. Maybe you can make something of it. But I need you to come home. I need all of you to come home. I hope you're okay.' </span><br/>
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<b>Just say I love you Emmy.... get out of your head and just tell her...she's your sister for better or worse.</b><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">'Okay, hope to talk to you soon..' </span></i><br/>
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The transmission ends.</div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Whyew. This one was going to be a doozy. It'd taken her two years just to even get a general sense of her brother Chris' patterns and movements from his "tasks" that he did while "working". Sarge covered his tracks very well. But, when you have a baby sister who can quite literally enhance her mind to that of a prodigy it was something she could do with moderate effort. Most intelligence apparatuses would've like gone closer to a decade to find the same types of "contractors" around the world. Once she got a beat on his current vicinity, she developed a data cluster that matched his digital activity anytime he accessed the web, a VPN, or deep web encryption. Once the paramters matched and she knew it was Chris' feed, she sent the crypto-footage.<br/>
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<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">'Hey Sarge. It's me... as you can tell. I hope you're okay... well I know you're okay. What I mean is I hope you're regulating well. Look, there's no easy way to say this but... I need you to come home. Don't be mad but I've been keeping tabs on you, all of you really but keeping my distance. I need you to know I wouldn't invade your privacy like this unless absolutely warranted. I think you'll agree that this is warranted.' </span></i><br/>
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Emmy takes the camera and raises it over her head to reveal The Matrix, alive &amp; active. Both hungry and satiated in its energy as it radiates a pulse through the conduit.<br/>
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<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">'Yeah, I know. Crazy. Here's what's crazier... it came on after I found and read <b>this</b>.'</span></i> Emmy holds the <b>Restricted </b>manilla folder up. <i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">'You having served, I know you know these folders typically have a rather strict clearance on its contents... and I may have read some things maybe not intended for me. But I think it applies to all of us.. which is why I need you here. Chris. It's time to come home okay? Do what you need to do to get here. Please.' </span><br/>
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<b>Tell him you miss him, Emmy. He probably feels bad. He should feel bad. Should he? </b><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">'Hope to see you soon big brother. Bye.' </span></i><br/>
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The transmission ends.</div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Royal's engine purrs as it pulls up to a quaint section of the city that was reserved for the more cultural portions and rich history of the city. Emmy in particular, set her sights on the track and field terrain just adjacent to the baseball/softball fields of ZCCC, Zero City Community College. Her mirror tint shaded reflect the sun with distinction, as she finds a side street to park on and exits her mustang and leans on the hood. She could see the track team was holding a practice, but there was only one soul in particular she was looking for. Once she spotted a blonde with the most beauteous of crystal blues, she smiled mildly. That smile warped however when her mind started to replay the events past. Two years ago, endless screaming and arguing. Watching her peer-sister leave her to fend for herself, enraging the brunette all the more. Emmy exhales in an attempt to keep that fire from rising to the surface. Better devils for other days.<br/>
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But given that, there was no way Emmy could face Iris... not right now. She seemed to be doing well (relatively speaking) but in truth she was probably just as miserable with this normal life as Emmy was with hers. She just didn't want to risk a scene, let alone exposure from drawing attention. Even though they were free to be them, Emmy still felt imprisoned in her choices at times. So instead, she waited until Iris saw her. And when her sister did lock eyes on her, Emmy would deliver a slow, foreboding nod. In their heyday, Emmy knew Iris to be one of the most (if not THE most) attuned to The Matrix and its properties from a mystical standpoint. So if anyone would know the how or why of The Matrix waking up... it's Iris. That and Emmy had a feeling she could probably feel it too...<br/>
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So when Emmy nodded, it served as a hidden affirmation that whatever Iris was feeling on the inside was true. That she wasn't going crazy. That the Matrix had indeed come back. With that, Emmy hopped back in Royal, looking at Iris one last time and leaving it up to her sibling to come home or not. The engine purrs up and she makes her way from the field. It was going to know Iris was at least making it. Emmy wanted to say more, DO more. But she was a coward. No, she was worse. She was a coward in pain.</div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Addy was much easier than most to keep track of. Emmy's badass sister was not only surviving, she was <i>thriving</i>. Probably the most of all of them. Addy was making noise. Last Emmy checked the girl had been making a name for herself doing every thing from bounty hunting to more... off the books forms of justice. Terry probably wouldn't like that but Emmy certainly empathized. Addy was the reason Emmy learned to think outside the box with her own abilities and potential. So following her trail through court files and logs from the people she'd brought to justice, or the police finding them one way or another provided the teen with enough she needed to trace her. However none of this was really needed. Emmy had Addy's number, as redhead would check in from time to time. The conversations weren't like they used to be, of course bridled with a lot of subconscious tension. Emmy knew where Addy was when she called, though she didn't need to know that. Emmy dials her number from her encrypted phone, patiently awaiting for when she picked up.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Hey Addy. It's me. I need you to do me a favor, when you get time can you please check your messages? I promise everything is okay for the most part. But there's something you should see. I need you to come home. It'll make sense when you see the messages okay? Talk soon..." </span><br/>
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She hangs up and sends two photos: One was of the Matrix, it was back. It's radiance and energy so powerful is disrupted the resolution of Emmy's camera. But Addy would know what that beautiful and terrible light was. The second photo was the manilla folder, labled Restricted. Addy would also know out of all of Mother's files, even the ones she didn't want The Nine to get into they'd never ever been labeled as such.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(226, 80, 65)"><b>Text to Addy =&gt; 'Taken 5 mins ago. These will delete 30 seconds after you open them. But it's real. Come home' </b></span></div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Royal pulls up to Zero City Police Department, a very unusual and uncomfortable venue for the teen. She hadn't did anything wrong at all, but it was the same stigma of a hospital or even a funeral in that its very aura is just associated with not so good feelings. What amplified this more was the fact that she was pissed as her eldest sister, for many reasons far and wide. Her abandoning her when she needed her, her giving up on the mystery of Mother, he choosing a normal life than embracing her special and unique destiny... the list could go on. For a while she even started referring to her as <i>Lieutenant Bacon</i> out of spite... and may or may not have posted that on some online forums talking about the handling of crime in the city. Mild dysphoria sets in as Emmy takes a breath and heads inside. She gets to the front desk, a nice portly woman greeting her as Emmy met her eyes with a smile. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Hi, I'm looking for Lieutenant Ba-- er,um Terry Morgan? I have a message I'd like to leave." </span>The woman picked up a phone and dialed to the precict offices upstairs as Emmy idled in patience. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(32, 178, 170)">"Sorry hun, she's out right now working a case. You wanna leave the message with me? I'll relay it to her voicemail."</span><br/>
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Emmy sighed in disappointment, but she wasn't surprised. She mentally formulated something that would give Terry a notion of what it was pertaining to, but she needed to make it niche enough for her older sister to catch on to the magnitude of the true meaning. Emmy's pupils dilate slightly as her synaspses speed up almost threefold in terms of mental processing.<br/>
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<i>Don't mention you're her sister. This precint likely knows Patrick and will assume I'm his daughter too. That'll raise questions Terry would have to answer and that could raise risk. Can't just outright tell her who you are or what this is about either. Make it something she likely wouldn't care about. She looks early 40s, distinguished type. Doesn't like high-motor based things. Stress lines on her fingers and posture slouch indicates she leans more than she sits upright... as if she's written for a long time. Books over movies. Cool. </i><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Yes! Her online order that was cancelled has been reinstated out of nowhere. It was a movie... uhh I forget I know it had Keanu Reeves, Lawrence Fishburne... older movie red pill blue pill...." </span><br/>
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The clerk simply giggles and shakes her head.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(32, 178, 170)"> "Hun I wouldn't know movies if it were to save my life." </span>Emmy grinned from ear to ear at her comment. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"It's okay, she'll know what I'm talking about. Thanks for sending that!" </span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(32, 178, 170)">"Oh hun, I didn't get your name!" </span><br/>
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Emmy waves as she paces out the front door, her enhanced hearing ringing through her body. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"You too! Have a nice day!!!" </span><br/>
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Emmy drops the nice girl facade and audibly emits an <i><b>ecckk </b></i>as she walks back to Royal. Only time would tell if her sister would come home. Given Terry's abilities she would deduce the true meaning in very little time at all.</div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Using the same metadata that was used to track Sarge, Emmy had put together something more rudimentary to find Alissa. It wasn't as adverse at all, seeing as how her sister wasn't exactly living to stay off the grid. In fact, Emmy was shocked at the location of the girl despite Tristan's efforts to turn every mountain over across the world to get back to her. She could see how much it would eat away at Tris that he wasn't able to find her yet, so without saying anything Emmy had bound herself to help her big brother find his biological sister and her adoptive sis. Every time he'd come home she'd see the disappointment on his face, though he masked it with a smile and strength in order to help around the manor and be there for Emmy. The amount of personal growth and maturity he'd gained since they were kids was uncanny. Alissa on the other hand, chose herself and relied inwards instead of outwards. Talking to herself literally became solitude and security for her. Emmy could only hope it wouldn't drive her mad in the end. When you're capable of doing what she can, it could probably be easy to lose grip on the borders of reality and fantasy. Emmy also didn't want to tell Tristan outright that she was pissed at Alissa for her own reasons. Was she really that insignficant to her older sister she couldn't even get a goodbye? WHILE she was grieving? Alas, fate would bind them together once more, an apothem of souls as The Matrix waking back up served as a catalyst of all to come.<br/>
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So of course, when Emmy finally got a hit on her activity via cyberlocation. She couldn't pass up the chance to reel in one of the harder fish to catch. Emmy had hired an online fortune teller / energy reader to help a friend in need. She used a psuedoname as to not be traced, and whether the reader was authentic or not wasn't relevant. What mattered however was the amount of cash ponied up to have said reader travel to the location provided by Emmy to find a girl named Alissa and give her a message. A message Alissa would know who it was from the moment she saw a reader claiming to be an astral cohort of sorts. There was only eight other people that could know, but only one person with the will, ingenuity, and cleverness to reach out in such a fashion of tact. And just in case she didn't, the reader telling her that the username <i><b>onepersonmanysouls </b></i>sent her should do the trick.<br/>
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<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(32, 178, 170)">Hello, I have a message for you. You're needed back at your nest. It says the time to fly home rings true now, as the beacon that calls us together has sung in its beautiful voice once more. Infinity is the beginning in which we've already reached the destination. Yours truly... a golden gem. </span></i></div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Definitely next to most easiest. Tristan stayed around most of the time and whenever he could. So it was nothing for Emmy to give him a call. Albeit, he'd know this was no ordinary call as she called him on the encrypted phone as opposed to the public use phones they'd had for their everyday lives. She knew he was probably in a dive bar somewhere listening to people playing guitar only half as good as he and drinking his inner demons away. Yet and still, he was still her knight in shining armor. The only one that tried to be around in her life as she maintained Groundskeeper to the Regal Estate (a name she hated by the way... she tried to get Mother to change the name numerous times). Tristan had gave her the bruises and cuts on her face, but it was from sparring and making sure each was at their best about a week ago. He'd probably gotten used to the fact she stopped self-healing anymore even though she knew he probably didn't like it. It was her way to feel the pain and punishment she secretly thought she deserved. The closest sibling to her emotionally, she didn't feel the tension or any animosity at all as the phone rung. She also smiled a bit at the prospect of telling him good news, he desrved some good news bless his heart. The phone picks up and Emmy could easily hear the noise and chatter of a bar in the background.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Hey, it's me. Okay... I hope you're sitting down. I found her. I found Alissa. I managed to reach out to her and I know where she is now, so if she doesn't come home we can go together to get her. But honestly... I don't think we'll have to. In fact, I hope you're still sitting because.. it's back on, Tris. The... it. IT. Get here as fast as you can, there's also something else I need to show you. Talk soon." </span><br/>
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Emmy says as she looks down at the Restricted folder before hanging up.<br/>
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And then there was one... Emmy grabbed her keys to Royal along with her brown leather jacket and headed out. Next stop: her college, Zero University.</div>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Hands down the easiest of the bunch to find... because he never left. In fact, Emmy had been keeping visual tabs on her older brother Kenji for quite sometime with him not knowing that they both attended the same university. To think that years of little contact and isolationism was heralded by physical proximity in which she could reach out at any point? But she knew Kenji. She knew had she done that her face and the knowldge of knowing she was here would eat him up on the inside. The weight of not being at the manor, yet seeing a visual reminder and representation of it all the same. Emmy just wanted Kenji to be happy despite her selfish wants &amp; distaste of his choice to leave. She didn't want to have him see her like Iris did, like Idris did. And maybe that's also why she didn't reach out herself; the fear of having someone you look up to sully the perception of who you are is terrifying. Especially when at the time Emmy was a walking volcano. And in some ways maybe even still is. She chose to take it out in training, even the nights where Tristan wasn't around she would torment herself and push herself to the absolute brink. <i><b>The screams of a woman could be heard at night</b></i> was a rumor mill that no one wanted to truly discover its real meaning past the citywide ghost story that was born from it all.<br/>
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Emmy had finishes her classes for the day, seamlessly finding her way through the mundane and easy feats of academia and culture. Right on cue however, like clockwork she hit the courtyard to lay her yes on a man taking the same trajectory he always took around this time. But this time she would not remain idle. She followed him into the library, watching him go up the stairs. She takes a deep inhale. And then a deep exhale. Now was the time, this couldn't wait. Of all the reasons to reach out, this most dire need was one the shock factor of seeing each other would have to table for another day. She could only hope Kenji could understand.<br/>
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She silently paced herself up the stairs, opening the door to the study areas and tutor rooms for most of the campus students. She peers her head around to lock eyes on her brother, ignorantly and peacefully into his textbooks. It made her smile a bit, a simple serenity in an otherwise tumultuous and raging storm. Every inch of her being wanted to just turn away and leave him be... she was convinced he hated her. So was it not easier to just be mad at him too? Keep everything and everyone at arm's distance? Not for long.<br/>
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Emmy walks towards the table Kenji's at, slowly sliding a chair and sitting beside him. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"You know, pretending to read like you're smart isn't going to make you any less of a doofus." </span>She says, a quiet smile on her expression. Aggressive intro, but hopefully it strikes to make him somewhat happy to see her too. She didn't know what to say really.. her throat seized up from a very unexpected wave of emotion that rushed itself forward. However, in fear of her siblings disposition she remained stoic. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Hi. I figured it's as good a time as any to come see you... I'm enrolled here too. Digital Engineering. I umm.." </span><br/>
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<i>Just stay focused Emmy. Breathe. </i><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"You look good. It seems you've been doing well for yourself. Tutoring now too? You always were a great teacher." </span><br/>
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<b><i>No Emmy, two hands on the handles you're going to fall off the bike!<br/>
Brake Emmy... Emmy braaake... BRAKES!! </i></b><br/>
<i><b>You'll get the hang of it Emmy. Don't beat yourself up. </b></i><br/>
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Emmy snaps back into focus from her disassociation of what was. She needed to cut to the chase, an intrinsic part of her felt weird and off leaving the manor unattended while the Matrix was back on. Emmy lowers her voice as she leans a bit closer to Kenji.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">"Okay, sorry. I'll cut to it. I need you to come home. <i>It's</i> back on Kenji. <i><b>IT</b></i>. I wanta say more but I can't. But there's something you need to see. I know I know this is a lot to take in but... it means something! I'm just as shocked as you but... I'm telling the truth, I promise. Just-- you don't have to react now, or make a decision now... but promise me you'll think about it? I hate to run but I'm on a borrowed clock. It was good seeing you... I hope to see you more." </span><br/>
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Emmy wanted to lean in for a hug but froze midway, deciding to lift herself up and take her leave instead. She looked back at Kenji, the seriousness of the information portraying in her eyes, yet also a faint glint and glimmer of beaming light. A carbon copy essence of the baby gem that paddered through the manor all those years ago. No matter the feelings, she hoped he knew there was still a part of that in her. In everyone of them.<br/>
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