The room was completely silent as the young woman stood in the secretary’s office, nervously drumming her fingers on the clipboard she was holding. This was a room no one liked to be in unless it was for a good reason, and that rarely happened.
Her reason was most certainly not a good one. The report she held wasn’t just on one of the many subjects in the Academy. It was on the Agency’s secret weapon, the key to the whole Mythic Project, the Host. It also wasn’t just any regular daily report. With the exception of the blood drawing statistics, it was nothing but bad news. If there was one thing the President hated above all else, it was bad news, especially on the Host.
It was, of course, the office of the President’s secretary that she was now standing in, waiting for him to finish a meeting.
She bit her lip, drumming her fingers faster. Why did she have to draw the short straw, today of all days? She had taken the position she had in the Agency SPECIFICALLY to avoid dealing with that man. Yet here she was, about to deliver news that was going to poke the sleeping dragon in his eye.
She jumped as the door to the President’s office finally opened and she did her best to compose herself and look professional, not like she wanted to run from the room, as the one man everyone in the Agency knew to fear walked out.
He was a relatively tall man, with features that, if he were anyone else, would look quite handsome. He wore his long dark hair in a straight ponytail that hung nicely down the middle of his back, never one straight hair out of place. His green eyes were always nothing but cold, icy, and terrifying. If he were to smile, everyone around him knew to run away, if they were smart. A smile from the President usually meant he had another sick plan and most likely needed ‘volunteers’ to help with it.
“How did the meeting go, sir?” the secretary asked, sparing a glance from her computer screen to look at him.
“Boring as always, Elise.” He replied, tucking his cane under his arm as he adjusted the cufflinks on his Armani suit. The cane wasn’t necessary for him to walk, he could do so very well. It wasn’t for show either. The President’s cane was his weapon and he could use it with deadly skill. Some said that another weapon was concealed inside, but anyone who had actually SEEN it…well…they never got to tell anyone. “But successful, I should think. Germany and Ireland have agreed to back the plan and have put in orders. Once I convince Spain, all of Europe will be backing us.”
“Oh, very good, sir.” The secretary replied before quickly going back to her work.
“Indeed.” He chuckled, setting down his cane. It was then that he noticed the extra person in the room. “Who is this?”
“One of the assistants from the H Sector, sir. She has something to report about the Host.”
“Ah, yes. The Host. It has been a while since a while since I last paid a visit to the Crown Jewel of my project. What is your name?”
“S-Sylvia, sir.” The young woman stammered, adjusting her glasses nervously. The President liked calling everyone by their first name. He didn’t need to use formalities to show his power. Everyone knew well who was in charge.
“Well then, Miss Sylvia. Why don’t you regale me with the details while I escort you back down to the Holding Chamber?”
“Th-The Holding Chamber, sir?” Sylvia repeated. She shook her head. “I-I am not allowed down there, sir. I am just one of the analysis lab assistants.”
“Well today, I say you are allowed. Now come along.” The President started making his way to the door, cane thudding ominously on the carpet.
Sylvia followed without hesitation, knowing better than to argue further.
“Now then. What is the status report?” The President asked as they entered the elevator right outside the office.
Start with the good news. She reasoned with herself. It might keep him from being too pissed off about the bad news. “Today’s drawing went very well, sir.”
“Wonderful! How much did we get this time?”
Sylvia flipped through a few pages, holding them folding back over the clipboard when she found the page she was looking for. “They got sixteen vials of blood, sir.”
“Excellent! We’ll be able to make more than enough serum for the new subjects.”
“Indeed, sir.” She flipped through a few more pages. “The cryo injections were also successful today. The Host remains stable and contained.”
“Good. What about the observations for the day?”
Sylvia swallowed. Might as well get it over with… “That’s where the good news ends, sir…”
“What do you mean?” he took the clipboard from her, apparently too impatient to have her read it to him. He cursed as he came to one of the last pages. “She’s aging?!”
She? The Host was a woman? Sylvia had truly never been to the Holding Chamber, nor had anyone told her any details at all about the Host. All she knew were the reports, which only ever referred to the secret weapon as ‘The Host’. “Yes, sir…That’s what they told me.”
“How much?”
“By their observations, about five years or so.” Sylvia replied. “I-If I may ask, why is this a bad thing?” she winced, preparing for the angry reply to mind her own business.
“It’s a bad thing because she’s SUPPOSED to be IMMORTAL!”
Sylvia stared. “I-Immortal, sir?!” Just what WAS the Agency keeping down there?!
The President let out another curse, but smiled to shake off the appearance of frustration. “Dear me, there I go saying too much again. Had you been anyone else, I would have to have you suddenly disappear.”
Sylvia let out a choking noise.
He chuckled. “I’m joking, my dear.”
Not by the stories I’ve heard! She thought, terrified.
“You are going to see the Host anyway. It’s all right that you know some things.” He assured her as they came to a huge door. The Holding Chamber.
Sylvia was still wary, but she, like everyone else in the Agency, knew not to test the President’s patience. “Of…Of course, sir.”
In all honesty though, she was pretty excited. Not many people had actually SEEN the Host. Only the heads of the project and the scientists tasked with drawing blood, the injections, and observations were allowed to see the Host. Them, and of course, the President. Her heart raced with anticipation as he took out a key card and inserted it into the slot by the key pad to the door. He then punched in a few numbers so fast that Sylvia couldn’t even see what he pressed.
“Now, Miss Sylvia. I’m sure you already understand this, but you are NOT to say a word about what you see in this room.” He smiled. “I know that you are aware of the consequences if you do.”
Sylvia swallowed. “V-Very much aware.”
“Good.” With a quiet ‘beep’, the keypad’s light changed from red to green and the door unlocked with a decidedly louder click. The President walked in, pausing when he realized that Sylvia was not following. “Then, please… do come in.”
Sylvia bit her lip and timidly obeyed, looking around fearfully as if an alarm was going to go off and she would be killed where she stood by whatever means the President had installed for this facility. Knowing the President’s mind, that was something she REALLY didn’t want to think about.
The room was small, for how big the door was. The scientists had left for the day, so it was empty…
Aside from the body on the table in the middle of the room, with various wires connecting it to monitors nearby. Unlike the other such tables she had seen, there were no straps tying the subject down. The President was already standing next to it. He gestured to the table. “Well? Come and see.”
Sylvia made her way over, gasping as she got a good view of what was on the table. It was a woman, but…not like any woman she had ever seen. Her face was more beautiful than any model she had seen, even with her eyes closed and the overall flawlessness in her dark hair, pale skin, delicate frame…she had only seen something LIKE it in the great works of art by the old masters. She couldn’t look away, even though she wasn’t like that…
“Intoxicating, isn’t she?”
Sylvia jumped as she heard his voice right next to her. “I-I—”
“Don’t worry…It’s normal not to be able to look away.” He chuckled, running a hand through the woman’s hair.
“Sh-She doesn’t look human…” Sylvia breathed.
“That’s because she isn’t.”
“Wh-What?!”
He chuckled again, laying the woman’s hair back down. “This woman is not human. Not even close. Miss Sylvia, I present to you, Hestia, the Greek goddess of the hearth and protector of the Olympian Flame…Also known as Vesta when the Romans took over.”
Sylvia’s jaw dropped. “S-Sir…that can’t be…”
“Ah…Another nonbeliever…” he shook his head. “I suppose I can understand. It is hard to believe. But I assure you, she is a goddess.” He frowned as he looked at ‘Hestia’s’ face. “Even though she has indeed aged…Normally, she has the appearance of a teenager…This is a big problem…”
“Sir…The Greek gods don’t exist…”
“They did…But something wiped them out…We still don’t know what happened, but Hestia here survived. It is her blood that we make the serum from…Being an immortal, blood loss doesn’t affect her. You see, Miss Sylvia…The original project started with the blood of another what we like to call ‘Original Mythic.’ These Mythics had their power from the beginning. There was no experiment or procedure that gave them their magic. They were BORN with it.” He walked around the table. “We’re not exactly sure what gave this young man his power as he wasn’t a god…But his blood is what created the Mythics we’re trying to collect.” He stroked Hestia’s cheek. “We found this young lady while we were searching for the others. She wasn’t really much of a fighter, which keeps with the old tales of Hestia being one to avoid conflict, but her power was extraordinary. Her command over fire was like nothing we had ever seen. But, as she only used it defensively, it was fairly easy to bring her in. Like every Mythic we bring in, we ran some tests on her…” he sighed. “She was unfortunately more unstable than we thought. That was when we started the cryo injections, to keep her…contained. Once we did that, there was no need for any other kind of restraints.”
“I-Is she still alive?”
“Yes. We merely keep her in this state to prevent any…problems.”
As in her trying to escape…Sylvia was still trying to take all of this in. “H-How did you know who she was?”
He chuckled. “As you said, she does not look human. And when we ran the tests, we got results that defied all logic…Not to mention the fact that no matter how much blood we took, there was always more. One day, there was a bit of an accident…one of the vials of blood was dropped and some of it got on one of the assistants…he acquired magic the next day. Weak magic, due to the topical contact, but magic nonetheless. We knew then that this was at least an Original Mythic. It only took a bit of historical research into the Greek myths to figure it out from there…”
She couldn’t believe it, and yet it had to be true, looking at the woman lying there. There was nothing else that such a being could be. “A-Are there any others?”
“Original Mythics?” he asked. When she nodded, he replied. “We only know of one. He was the one that, essentially, created the Mythic Project. He worked with a scientist outside the Agency to, according to him, ‘recreate his race’. They used HIS blood as a base for the serum that created what we call the Third Generation Mythics. They needed funds for the project and they naturally turned to us. Our wealth was more than well known. Intrigued by the prospect, we agreed to back them on the condition that they share their findings with us. However, the subjects who were given that Mythic’s blood showed no signs of developing abilities. We would have written the project off as a failure if it wasn’t for the fact that these abilities existed. The scientist and the Mythic both had such powers…But when we gave them a proposal of the methods we should use to bring out these abilities, they refused our offer and promptly disappeared…”
Gee, I wonder why? Sylvia had seen their ‘methods’. There was a reason that she preferred to work in the analysis lab… “So…how did you continue the project without them?”
“Well, as I said, we only agreed to back them if we were privy to their findings. We still had the tests and such run on the Mythic’s blood and we managed to make a…synthetic blood, if you will.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, the subjects given the serum we made didn’t last long…their powers immediately grew out of control and destroyed them…”
“So…having Hestia saved the project?”
“Indeed…” he frowned. “But now that project is in danger again…Why is she aging? It makes no sense…”
“The report didn’t say—”
“Yes, I KNOW it didn’t.” he snapped, before calming himself. “That’s enough storytelling…Please get back to the lab and tell your superiors to find the cause of her aging. And, Miss Sylvia,”
She froze mid turn and faced him again. “Yes, sir?”
He smiled. “Not a word.”
Sylvia felt a shiver go down her spine and she nodded, quickly backing out of the room, still in shock from what she had seen and heard.
***
When the girl had left, the President turned back to the table, leaning on it as he looked at Hestia’s face. “Why are you aging? You’re a bloody immortal. It’s IMPOSSIBLE for you to age!”
“If I may, sir…I think I can provide a solution to the problem.” A new voice said, coming over the speakers in each corner of the room.
“I trust you heard everything.” The man replied, not taking his eyes off Hestia.
“Indeed, sir. I believe I know a way to at least stop, if not reverse, the Host’s aging process.”
“Is that so? Then stop wasting my time and tell me!”
“Well, sir…I have an idea on how to go about this…But, as with all theories about eternal youth and reverse aging…I will require the youth of another in order to test this…”
A smile made its way onto the President’s face. “Is that so?”
“Yes, sir. I merely require your permission to proceed.”
“Consider it granted. In fact,” his smile widened. “I think I have the perfect first subject in mind. I really don’t think she will keep her mouth shut…”
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