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Dr. Simon Pierce
Director ; Minerva Archive

It was the emptiness he felt the most. With the drastic cuts in funding for the Archive, Director Pierce found himself alone for days, strolling the sterile white hallways of Annex C. He had found some minor amusement in the recreational facilities, a part of Castle Rock Complex he had rarely visited during his 27-year tenure at the facility, he had eaten in cafeterias he had never even entered before. Mostly he wandered Annex C-the oldest part of the facility where he had first been assigned decades ago. He had not been to his office for nearly a week, instead sleeping in empty personnel quarters when he felt tired. Days could slip by without checking your watch down here. Mostly he wandered the halls.

He passed a research lab, the glass wall fogged up and dirty. A grey halogen light flickered behind the thick glass and went dark. Simon could ask Mr. Gray to change the light, tidy up the place but the sanitation engineer had become sullen and grumpy since the funding was cut.

Pierce walked on, clipboard in hand making notes about what parts of the facility would need to be destroyed, what could be salvaged. Pierce stopped at an imposing elevator door. In the shiny metal reflection he noticed graying blonde hair, wrinkled features distorted by the reflection. He sighed. The Main Archive entrance. He could pop down to see what the Senior Archivist, Milo Yanez was up too, decided against it. He had never been much for small talk anyhow, and with his beloved archive coming to an end, he was sure to be in a rare mood. Director Pierce continued down the hall.

For thirty years he had watched this place grow, accumulate knowledge and specimens that would drive average citizens insane, and make Einstein suck his thumb like a babe. Pierce shuddered at the thought of some of the things he had seen enter (and exit) that elevator door. But now it was all coming to a close. Pierce wished he could say he had seen it coming, but it was unthinkable that the Department of Defense no longer had a use for all of this-

"What? All of this what? Danger? Possibility."

Director Pierce decided to go with possibility.

Aoife sped up her chopper in frustration. It can't be true! She argued with herself. All the research! All the information! All the data! All the knowledge! Not again! She twisted the clutch and up-shifted yet again, the Yamaha Virago growling fiercely beneath her. Those God Damn penny counting bureaucrats! What did they know about real knowledge? True mystery and the rush to follow the thread to unravel it?!? Nothing! Power! They thought they had power! Ha! If they new the things she'd uncovered they'd shrivel up and deflate like a loose balloon.

Traffic was nonexistent to where she was heading. No one knew where she was heading. Because to everybody, where she was heading didn't exist. Oh, but it did! And it was marvelous. Magnificent! And they wanted to destroy it. Destroy it! No, it can't be true! She chastised herself again. I'll talk with Dr Pierce and he'll sort this misunderstanding out. Because that's what this is. A huge misunderstanding. She'd finally found a place where she belonged. Where she wasn't a wack job scientist or pseudo-scientist. There she was understood. She wasn't ridiculed for her outlandish theories, because they were supported by the information contained within the facility. She couldn't allow it to be destroyed. She wouldn't! She up-shifted to the final gear and the chopper roared with raw power. She all but flew the last few kilometers to the secret location of the Minerva Archive facilities. The bike broke it's momentum in an angry ark, finally quieting down as it's rider turned off the motor and kicked the stand down, dismounting.

Aoife removed her helmet and rushed towards the building. She suffered through all the security checks and scans and finally inside the belly of the beast she sprinted through the corridors of the Archive like a mad woman. Corridor after corridor she searched for her quarry. Finally she spotted the man she was looking for and rushed him from behind.

"Dr Pierce... Dr Pierce!" She shouted, grabbing the older man by the shoulder and twisted him towards her. "Tell me it's not true!" She demanded. "Tell me it's just a silly threat from a pencil pusher somewhere." She looked desperate now. "Tell me they are not closing the Minerva Archive down." She whispered almost out of breath and fuel.

It was not every day that Dr. Tassle was requested to move facilities. In fact, it was strictly prohibited for the doctor to ever leave foundation property. "It is for security," he was explained to, "in case you ever go rogue. I'm sure you understand." While Tassle knew that it was always a possibility for any of the Minerva Archive's assets to go rogue, Tassle at least wanted to not be paraded about in the back of a truck, accompanied by two lightly armed security staff. Oh, how weak minded they were, how easy it would be to bend their realities and force them to take him anywhere he wanted. He knew, however, that the rifles they held were loaded, and aside from the fact that he didn't want to die, he was admittedly curious about where he was being taken. He was told that he was needed at another facility to assist research on more dangerous space-time items, but that was the end of it. He simply had to wait...

"Now entering: Annex C Facility. State your name, security clearance, passengers, and cargo."

"Dillon Brand," the driver responded to the gate's automated messages. "Clearance Level 4, carrying two other Clearance Level 4 personnel, as well as our Special Clearance Level R you requested."

Our? Tassle frowned and leaned towards the driver in the front seat. "That's Tassle to you, and I am not theirs nor yours."

The security personnel to his left and right glared at the doctor, but he could care less. Not about the staff, not about the facility, less about the weapons being adjusted to his left and right than he had before. All he cared about was his research. He wanted, no, needed to figure out the timeline. This large influx of dangerous anomalous items, coupled with funding cuts, meant that a large number of civilian life was at risk. While Tassle could not stop the already existing supernatural phenomenon, he could at least stop all the new ones from showing up for a while.

The vehicle stopped just inside the gate, and the security personnel escorted him inside the facility. There, he was left with a young junior research staff, not even security level 4 yet.

"Dr. Tassle," she greeted him, trying her best to sound optimistic, "it's nice to meet you. My name is-"

"Don't care," Tassle interrupted. "What did you need me here for again?"

The girl was flustered, obviously, and caught very off guard by Tassle's abruptness. She balled her hands in to fists and stuck her chin up, trying to look as confident as possible. To the doctor, however, it only served to look barely cute. "I-I was assigned to keep an eye on you at this facility. You received strict orders from Dr. Pierce to-"

"Pierce?" Tassle had only met this man once, as he had not been present during any of his major disciplinary hearings. Tassle should have known he would he meeting with Pierce here. The researcher, again, was caught off guard, which was starting to get on Tassle's nerves. Out of anyone at this facility, why was she chosen to look after me? Although now that he thought about it, the place seemed eerily quiet...

The research decided that feigning confidence wasn't going to get her anywhere, letting out a sigh as she swiped strands of blonde hair from her eyes. "Listen, I just need your help preparing items for transport. I'm one of the last staff here and we needed some help with..."

Tassle's eye twitched at her words. Transport? Transport? I came here to pack some damn boxes? The doctor shook his head, pressing a finger against the researchers forehead and pushing her back a few feet. The girl staggered, and as she righted herself, noticed that Tassle was gone. Tassle had altered the researcher's reality momentarily so that he could get away from her, turning a corner and storming off. He needed to find Dr. Pierce, to get an explanation on this joke. What the hell was going on? Why was he being asked to pack boxes when he was the last person that should have been packing boxes?

The girl buried her face in her palms in embarrassment. The only thing I needed to do, and it didn't even take five minutes to lose him... She grabbed a radio clipped to her belt and pressed the button down. "Dr. Pierce, this is Aryl. I lost Tassle. He's probably headed your way. I apologize..."

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Dr. Simon Pierce
Director ; Minerva Archive

"What do you mean you lost Tassle Aryl? He's not a set of car keys!" Dr. Pierce was about to continue his barrage on the young research assistant when he was suddenly accosted. Spun around on his heel, Pierce came face to face with Dr. Quinn. The young woman was clearly distraught, her hair disheveled. Pierce clutched his clipboard defensively until Quinn calmed herself.

"Tell me it's just a silly threat from a pencil pusher somewhere." She looked desperate now. "Tell me they are not closing the Minerva Archive down." She whispered almost out of breath and fuel.

"I sent a memo out last week..." sputtered Pierce weakly. A few words sent in a mass e-mail fueled by a half bottle of bourbon. Dr. Pierce wasn't one to usually give into more pedestrian vices but his life's work reduced to a resounding "NO" in black & white had pushed him over the edge. The booze was gone, the ramifications of the DoD's decision was not.

"Look uh...Aiofe is it? Walk with me a moment. Are you hungry?" Dr. Pierce started down the silent corridor motioning for Dr. Quinn to follow.

"This isn't the end. It's just a change in circumstance. These...'pencil-pushers' do this sort of thing all the time when they want to intimidate the poor fools in the trenches," Dr. Pierce smiled weakly, knowing it was a lie.

Quinn took a cleansing breath. She leveled a look on her boss.

"I've been in the field for the past few weeks. I've just got back and when I read that memo..." Quinn stalled her explanation. "I don't think I can stomach food right now." She answered Dr. Pierce's question following him down the corridor. "And forgive my bluntness, Dr. Pierce, but are you trying to convince me with that last bit, or yourself." Aoife looked at the older men with a smidgen of compassion.

If the news about the Archive had hit her this hard, she could barely imagine how it was for Dr. Pierce who'd devoted a huge chunk of his life to the place. All that knowledge!

"Do you think it's a plot to strong-arm access to the archive's contents?" She asked. "It wouldn't be the first time. Those assholes just want to know what we know even though they couldn't even begin to comprehend it. They just want the power of it." Quinn grumbled.

"So what's our plan?" She squared her boss with an intense stare. It was clear she wasn't planning on taking this situation lying down. "We'll fight this, right?!"

Aryl winced as the director spoke to her through the comms. She shook her head and walked dismally through the halls in a sad attempt at finding the Doctor. "All available research staff," All five of you, Aryl thought to herself, "please be on the lookout for Dr. Wesley Tassle. He is unarmed and should be met with a calm..."

Tassle, meanwhile, was still storming angrily through the empty halls of Annex C. The absolute nerve of these people to transfer me to a facility in need of packing! In all of the archives he has looked through, not a single item of value existed within Annex C... Right? Tassle looked up at some director signs overhead. "Cafeteria," one read. Yeah, that sounds about right, Tassle thought. I wonder if they serve alcohol... I could use a drink. He heaved a stress-relieving sigh and walked in to the cafeteria. It was empty of people, and the only sources of food he cared to look for was a couple of vending machines hunched up in a corner of the room. Tassle decided they were better than nothing and walked over to them to purchase a bag of Lays and a Pepsi. He then sat at a table and took out a PDA to research the items held at Annex C. Perhaps there truly was something he missed...