Inside the private quarters, Damien widened his sable-tinted eyes as he gazed upon a beautiful and graceful lady attired in a black suit. It was difficult not to ogle her alluring figure from bottom to top.
Bewitching was an understatement.
Her body was carved to charm even the strongest of wills. A perfectly symmetrical hourglass, curved in the best of places. Combined with her luscious face sculpted to conquer, resistance was near impossible.
Even her secretary-like attire hugged her beauty with grace as though it were her second skin. Alongside a pair of shaded pantyhose embracing her thighs, there were also her golden-tinted eyeglasses, radiating poise.
"Ehem..."
However, Damien's stupor was abruptly disrupted by a soft cough from the secretary. His pupils focused as his sable-tinted daze reverted to normal. Almost immediately, he apologized. "Sorry about that."
Perceiving his embarrassment, Francine lightly chuckled as her plump velvet lips curved into a smile. "No need for the apologies. Your reaction does you a favor, Damien."
He could barely smile as he doubted the positivity of his foolish response. After all, it brought nothing but shame. "Yeah, I don't know about that."
Besides, weren't his emotions muted in some way? How was he so enamored by her beauty? Even his boss, Miss Alastair, didn't bring forth such an extreme reaction. It was as if he were charmed.
"How about we start with an introduction?" Francine decided to move forward with the subject as their short meeting already dispelled her doubts. 'A young man from Brooklyn, huh?'
"Alright," Wanting to move on from his shameful display, Damien nodded in agreement and instead pondered the identity of the gorgeous lady in front of him.
"I am Francine Espada, the second-in-command of Block 7, your senior." She gestured her pale and slender hand forward, which he shook with a resounding calm. "Glad to meet you, my name is Damien."
"Miss Alastair has already briefed me on your identity. I believe you are aware of your prospect as an Aberrant." Francine took out a glossy tablet and adjusted her golden-tinted eyeglasses.
"I did wake up with rifles pointed at me, so I'm dutifully aware." He smiled at her, causing the graceful secretary to smile once again. "I didn't know you were so talkative. You seemed to be passive around Miss Alastair."
"Anyone would be." His response was straightforward, as though stating a matter of fact. She nodded in agreement and handed the tablet to the young man. "Inside this device is general information."
"You should be ignorant about the current times." Francine had already investigated the given identity of the Aberrant. It matched without any variations. It was as if he were copied and pasted into the future.
'There's no doubt about it. The young man should be over 30 years old by now. Much older than me or Miss Alastair.' According to the archives of missing persons, he vanished during Heaven's Fall.
His body was never found, so he was presumed dead. 'Until an explosion blasted an intersection within Brooklyn, where he lay at its center.'
On the other hand, Damien was overwhelmed by the information displayed by the tablet. 'Present technology has really advanced by leaps and bounds. How is this thing so thin?'
In any case, the current state of affairs was much more complicated than he imagined. One of the most basic pieces of knowledge was the existence of aether, an exotic matter introduced by Heaven's Fall.
Aether introduced a new study of science. It was revolutionary as it gave birth to metahumans. Evolved humans who were capable of wielding the exotic matter.
Alongside this new breed of humanity were unique abilities, Brands. It was a distinct power rooted within each and every metahuman.
'This explains why Miss Alastair was capable of warping reality into glass.' He grasped the comprehensive properties of aether. It practically brought forth a study that was no less different than magic.
'Overpowered!' He searched further into the web, understanding the depths of what the New World was. Whether it'd be the post-cataclysm species known as Cryptids, the Federation of North America, and finally...
The subject he was most interested in: the Aberrants.
'Monstrous abominations created from the unnatural concentration of aether, inducing an aetheric reaction dubbed corruption to take place. These creatures are savage and mindless.'
'Their sole purpose is destruction.' Images of discovered Aberrants were displayed on the screen as amalgamations of flesh emerged one after another. 'Damn, no wonder most people are afraid.'
'But I don't look remotely as disfigured as these abominations, so why did they immediately consider me an Aberrant?' As though responding to his question, Francine bent her body and pointed something at his forehead.
"Almost all of the personnel part of the SIGIL Blocks are what you would consider metahumans. They are tagged as Jaegers, the hunters of humanity. As you should be aware by now, we are sensitive to aether."
"To us, you are practically no different than a beacon of consolidated aether. A compression of exotic matter, akin to a weapon of mass destruction." Francine expounded as the device beeped.
"Your readings are stable, and I believe that some of your questions are quenched. Miss Alastair has called for your attendance since the SIGIL has accepted your occupation as a Jaeger of Block 7."
The edges of her plump velvet lips curved into a gentle smile. "Miss Alastair has seen potential in you. After all, you are the first Aberrant in a decade to be capable of mere intelligence."
Damien realized how much of a compromise his boss had given. From the information regarding Aberrants alone, it was already astounding that he wasn't thrown into some highly secured cell.
'The higher-ups of SIGIL are probably gearing for that, but Miss Alastair covered for me.' What was given to him wasn't a simple debt. Instead, it was a life-altering favor.
"Thank you..." Two grateful words escaped him, to which Francine received with the same smile as before. "You should be thanking, Miss Alastair. Although she probably wouldn't care."
After conversing for a few moments, the two proceeded with his attendance at the Paragon of Block 7. They soon reached the internal and artificial park within the headquarters, where an alluring white-haired lady lounged.
Heading towards her, Damien glanced at the beautiful secretary and asked. "Why didn't Miss Alastair immediately contain me? While arrogant, I don't think she is the type to be careless."
Discerning his question, Francine halted for a second and turned her gaze towards the young man. "The answer is relatively simple. You are too weak, even as an Aberrant."
"Since Heaven's Fall, you are probably the weakest Aberrant to date. Perhaps it's a symptom of your intelligence; only time will tell." Her golden-tinted eyeglasses glinted with a calculating streak.
"What matters is the opportunity it brings, the leeway of being perceived as weak." A conceited smirk escaped the graceful secretary. It was at this moment that Damien realized why she was the second-in-command of Block 7.
"Apologies, her attitude rubbed off on me."
Meanwhile... In the distance was the lounging seventh Paragon, who immediately sensed them approaching. She turned her pearl-like gaze towards them, grinning as she waved her pale and slender arm.
"Looks like the two of you are getting along well."