The subtle but annoying clack-clink and clippity-clonk snaps Tony's lingering awestruck gaze on his favorite superhero, Michael Olmsted. He turns over his shoulder with a grunt.

Tony flinches, eyes widening when they see a girl approaching him, from his house. How did- How did she come from there?

Everything the teenager wears is purple: oversized coat, t-shirt with four weird stick people, knee ripped jeans, lopsided sunglasses, thick-soled shoes, and even her watch that peers out of her coat sleeve. Her brown hair, that hangs loose over her shoulders, is also streaked with purple.

The mysterious girl adjusts her sunglasses, munching on her gum as she walks down the cobblestone pathway. "Why's it so damn hot these days?"

Tony's jaw drops when he sees the cobblestone crack under her shoes, how did she- that happen? He looks at the girl again, but gets blinded when she retrieves something from her coat pocket. It takes a while for his eyes to get accustomed and correctly identify the "something".

It's surprisingly not purple. It's yellow - no, gold. And round, really thick too. A golden pebble? Tony squints his eyes, recognizing the jagged edges on the pebble. Okay, a golden pebble with five sharp edges. A chain dangles from it, which the girl uses to don around her neck. She holds the swaying golden pebble in place.

Tony blinks his eyes rapidly, before examining the distant weird pebble. It can't be a pebble, right?

The young boy creases his forehead when a sharp pricking sensation hits it. He looks up to find the mysterious girl staring at him. 

"It's my badge," she says, holding the five-edge 'pebble'. "Proof that I'm an agent from the Covert."

Tony raises his brows, so she's from the Cob- Covert?

"You must be Anthony Banks. One of the owners of No. 62 Claremond?" The girl asks, pointing to the house. She smiles, "Hi, I'm agent Racoon, one of the two officers assigned to your case."

One of the two? Tony muses. So M-Micheal's from the Covert too? He flits his gaze to him.

"I'm Thomas Banks," Tom says, drawing his grandma's bronze mirror out of the blue handbag hanging on his shoulder. As expected, the mirror's screen displays a gold crest amidst the dark cloudy background, a C with curvy ends engraved on its center.

This crest has appeared once before; right after the SOS call to the Covert was abruptly disconnected.

"I used this to contact the Covert," Tom adds.

"Can I see that?" Michael asks. A small smile appears across his lips when he sees Tom furrow his brows while bringing his mirror closer to him. "Just need it for verification."

Tom stares at him for a moment, noticing the flecks of neon blue in his black irises He exhales slowly, handing over his grandma's mirror.

"Thanks," Michael says, inspecting the mirror. The white round tracker is still held in his right hand. "Can you tell me when and where you got this mirror?"

"No," Tom replies. "Sorry, but I don't see the point of answering this. You guys have also checked and confirmed that's mine. I mean, that's how you got my name."

Why should he tell he found it in Diselhock's dusty attic six months ago? They should be investigating the dead guest in his house.

Micheal nods in silence, though something like a small mutter escapes his lips. After a minute of turning it around, he hands the mirror back to Tom, noticing his tracker's sole light flicker from orange to green.

"I'm agent Hornbill, the officer in charge of your case. But, you can call me Michael."

Tom extends his hand when Michael offers his, flinching the second they shake hands.

"Ow!" He cries, gaze on the long, inflamed streak that runs across his pale palm.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Michael says, his widened eyes wavering. He again mutters something indecipherable to himself.

"You zapped him!" Agent Racoon gasps, rushing toward Tom. Tony follows, his face pallid in shock. This hasn't happened before.

Micheal retrieves a small, dark tube from one of his trouser pockets and uncaps it. "Show me your hand."

Tom withdraws his hand, the streak now purple-grey due to its developing blisters, stepping back. No, the Serum can't heal this.

"It's a special healing agent, Tom," Agent Racoon says. "It's more effective than the common serums out there."

Noticing his brother's clenched jaw relax, Tony gawks at the agent in purple. How do you know him?

"Yes, it's specifically used for burns like this," Michael adds. "If you apply this now, your burn would heal, and you won't feel any pain."

Tom sighs in frustration, extending his burned hand when he sees his brother Tony nod.

"I'll do it," Racoon says, snatching the tube away from her partner-agent. "Go fetch your gloves."

"Thanks," Michael whispers. He races back to the ice cream truck, his face scrunched up in red.

Tony taps his foot repeatedly on the cobblestone, glaring at Racoon as she applies the cream-colored balm over his brother's burns. It takes a while for him to hear Tom wincing.

"Stop it, it's hurting him."

"Give me a sec," Racoon replies, gaze fixated on the semi-covered burn. Squeezing the tube flat in one swift motion, she applies a generous gallop of the healing balm over it.

Tom grits his teeth, his uninjured left arm holding his right, to prevent it from shaking or withdrawing.

The stinging pain continues for a short while, until the cream-colored balm transforms into a translucent one and slowly erases the black burn.

Tony gazes at this with awe, his brother's right palm now with a light pink scar.

"Is he alright?" Michael asks, adjusting the thick rubber gloves on his hands as he approaches. He sighs in relief when he sees no trace of the burn on his client's palm. "I'm sorry for not being careful."

"It's okay," Tom replies. He shifts his gaze to Racoon. "How did you come from our house?"

"Me?" Racoon points to herself. She frowns, her eyes twinkling with feigned ignorance. "I didn't."

Tony arches his brows when he sees the tips of Michael's blue Mohawk twinkle with electricity. That's so cool.

"I saw you with these," Tom says, pointing to his eyes. "And you know, I see everything and everyone."

Tony flits his gaze to his brother, and then to Racoon. Will someone tell how these two know each other?

He tries to close his agape mouth, when he sees Racoon push down her glasses. While her left iris is a dark brown, her right is completely different.

Purple.

No wonder she wears all purple, Tony muses.

"I came from there," Racoon says, motioning to the crooked path between the fences of No. 62 and 64. "You weren't paying attention or what, smug shape-"

"Agent Racoon," Michael cuts in, his forehead creased with a mix of apprehension and anger. "You trespassed into their home? You're supposed to be on standby and wait for my confirmation."

"But I do know Tom," Racoon blurts out. "Our families knew each other."

"I don't remember you," Tony says. "Like, I've never seen you before."

"That's coz it was years ago, when we were your age," Racoon justifies. She turns to her partner-agent, "And I also knew that they shifted-"

"I don't care," Michael snaps. "Whether you and our client were diaper babies or even second cousins, it doesn't matter. You were supposed to follow protocol."

Tom shakes his head while watching the two agents bicker. How are these two supposed to help them?

"You saw the body, right? Were you able to remove it?" he asks.

"Yeah. It's a case 522B," Racoon answers. She looks at Tony, "It's code for what you've seen." She looks back at Tom, crossing her arms, "And I couldn't remove it. I damaged the wall instead."

Tom widens his eyes, "You did what-"

"Chill, I didn't," Racoon snickers, tucking the stray strand of hair stuck on her cheek behind her ear. In one swift motion, she ties her hair into a bun. "I couldn't remove the body without destroying the wall. The ivy there's pretty adhesive."

"Ivy?" Michael intercedes. He scans the desolate neighborhood, as if inspecting for hiding eavesdroppers. "Okay. Let's take this discussion inside."

Tony follows his gaze, but finds nobody there. Surprisingly. At least they would be a few kids outside, as an ice cream truck is here during this blistering time.

"I'll need to examine the body," Michael says. "Agent Racoon, bring the Aóratos when you're coming." 

Tom exhales slowly. The concealer spray or the Aóratos wouldn't make any difference. Yeah, thanks to the Stability serum, he won't be able to see the invisible Mr. Ivy Man till tomorrow afternoon.

But the problem is Tony can see it in an hour or two, since he's had only one Neutro toffee.

Agent Racoon answers with a soft grumble. Tony feels a slight tremor as she marches toward the ice cream truck. Is she a Geo*? The girl's hetero-chromatic eyes flash before his, an itchy rash called familiarity arising from the back of his neck.

...

"This is nasty," Michael says, leaning on the living room door frame.

His face is pale, not because of the sight of the ivy-wrapped corpse. He's seen worse in his three years as a Covert agent. But in exhaustion from the two-day traveling between his clients, and in surprise and speculation, when he sees the older of the Banks brothers standing inches away from the corpse.

Like it's nothing.

Meanwhile, the younger one stands beside him, trembling in place.

"Yup, we were terrified when we first saw it," Tony says, avoiding gaze completely with Mr. Ivy-Man.

Michael takes a few steps inside the bare living room, inspecting the shabby walls. Who would live in this filthy house?

"Could you please step aside, Mr. Banks? I need to examine the corpse up close."

Tom drops his gaze from the corpse, turning back. His eyes look hazy. "Yeah, and it's Tom, not Mr. Banks."

"Okay, Tom," Michael says, approaching the corpse. The ivy wrapped around it is now black-grey.

Tony watches the agent reach Mr. Ivy Man, hurrying to his brother when a slight creak reverberates across the dark eerie hallway.

Michael places his hands back, scanning the cocooned corpse from head to toe. "When did you first see this?"

"Um," Tony says, his forehead crinkled. "When Tom was de-"

"When I came here," Tom cuts in. He momentarily glares at his brother, using the slightest whisper to shush him. "We moved in here today, and I was the first to come here."

Tony furrows his brows, I was going to say the same thing.

"Hmm," Michael says, taking a step back. "Did you find anything else in the other rooms."

"No," Tom says before his brother. "We've only been to the dining room."

"Okay," Michael says. He turns to the two boys, "I'll check the rest of the house, and then I'll explain what we'll have to do next." He bites the insides of his cheek, "Do you guys have an adult guardian, or a family member that I can talk to?"

Tony exhales sharply, "Y-"

"Yes, we have a grandma," Tom cuts in, taking the mirror out of his handbag. "But she's here."

"Oh," Michael replies. "Well, never mind. You both are owners of a house, so that makes you legally independent." He fiddles with his hands, "Then, I'll check the rest of the house."

Tom nods, taking in a deep breath as he watches the Covert agent head out of the room.

Nobody should know about Diselhock.

*Geos or Geokineticists are those superhumans who can manipulate parts of the Earth. For e.g., they can cause earthquakes, as well as control and generate vegetation.