The room smelled like a war crime.
Underground beneath X-Store, hidden from the eyes of the world, the treatment room looked like a secret hospital straight out of a rejected sci-fi script. Four beds were neatly lined up against sterile white walls. Each bed was occupied—and each occupant looked like they'd had their souls partially microwaved.
Agent Rex, now soaked with the stench of rotten fish tank water, twitched weakly with red rash patches covering his skin. The nauseating smell was so thick, it felt like the air itself had turned to spoiled milk. It is to counter the Rose fragrances. Agent Vick lay next to him, hair puffed up in every direction like he'd stuck a fork into a wall socket. Samuel, the cause of half the disaster, didn't look much better his hair still levitated from the lingering static shocks, a human hedgehog of regret. And Danny, curled at the end of his own bed, had one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, moaning softly like an exhausted opera singer.
One thing united them all. They were holding their noses.
"Can we please move somewhere else?" Danny groaned; his voice muffled through the crook of his arm. "I swear I'm gonna throw up. It smells like a dead fish graveyard in here."
"I second that," Samuel grumbled, scratching his head as sparks of static danced off his fingertips. "Yes, please. I need air."
Agent Vick sat up, groaned, and glared at everyone. "Yes. Move. To my office. Now. And I swear to every god out there—do NOT touch anything on the way."
As he staggered off the bed and adjusted his t-shirt like a man barely clinging to sanity, he muttered under his breath, "I wonder what else these two troublemakers are gonna break next."
Danny and Samuel exchanged a glance but wisely said nothing.
Behind them, Agent Rex still strapped to an IV and surrounded by sterilization units—glared at them with the fury of a thousand suns. His demonic eyes burned holes in their backs. If looks could kill, they would've been vaporized on the spot.
"Uh... is he staring at us?" Danny whispered.
"Don't look back," Samuel replied. "If he breaks free, you distract him with cat videos. I'll run."
"MOVE," Agent Vick barked again. "Before I cuff you both and leave you in here with him."
The boys shuffled behind him, their footsteps echoing down the sterile, narrow hallway. They left behind one steaming demon in rage with the lingering stench of floral-scented cleaner mixed with cursed rotten fish smell, and enough awkwardness to fuel a sitcom.
X-Store was definitely not what they signed up for.
They entered Agent Vick's office a cold, windowless chamber filled with cluttered files, faded maps, locked drawers, and dated equipment. The moment they stepped in, Vick grabbed a can of air freshener from his desk and sprayed it around like it owed him rent. The air. Himself. The boys. The corners. Then he sank into his chair.
"Do I need to roll out a red carpet?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "Sit."
They sat.
"Sir, is this our temporary base?" Samuel asked, trying to sound professional. "Where do we sign up? Is there a form? A trial period?"
Danny leaned forward. "Before that why do we have demon agents? What's going on? How do we even trust them?"
Samuel nodded. "Isn't that like... letting the enemy babysit your kids?"
Agent Vick stared at them like he was contemplating early retirement. With a long, exhausted sigh, he reached into a drawer, popped a blood pressure pill, and said, "Just... stop. Five minutes. Give me five minutes of silence."
He leaned back, massaging his forehead. "Be cool, Vickram… be cool…"
The silence was... semi-silent. Until Samuel noticed the lady-shaped glass statue on the desk. Something about it set off his internal red flag.
"Danny," he said telepathically, "that statue. Bad vibes."
Danny frowned. "Agreed."
He reached out—just a fingertip.
CRACK.
The statue split. A black mist hissed out, curling into the air like a whisper of malice. The room temperature dropped.
Agent Vick opened one eye, saw the cracked statue, and groaned, "No... not that..."
"Sir, I swear I didn't touch it!" Danny said quickly.
"Hell's Order, analyze the black gas!" Samuel ordered.
"Cursed object. Hex doll designed to bring misfortune to its keeper. Aura collapse due to proximity with Hell Enforcer."
Samuel turned to Danny. "Oops."
Agent Vick slammed his palms on the desk. "That was from my first case! A memento!"
Danny raised a hand sheepishly. "But technically, sir, it was cursed. We saved you."
Samuel added, "You should thank us. We did a cleanse."
Agent Vick leaned back and covered his face with both hands.
This wasn't just another day. It was going to be an epic migraine arc.
"This," he finally said, "is the headquarters of X-Division. X-Store is just our public front. We are a black-ops agency dealing with supernatural threats. You'll be assigned to Agent Nick for orientation."
He continued, "We have two demon agents here. We use demon agents through a covert pact. Some demons help maintain balance under supervision. We also have humans with special abilities."
Danny whispered telepathically, "Yo, this is like being in a knock-off S.H.I.E.L.D."
Samuel nodded. "Budget S.H.I.E.L.D. with cursed merchandise and Agent Nick Fury!"
At that moment, Agent Nick, the one who kicked Danny earlier entered.
"Agent Nick, take over. Do the ice-breaking."
Nick gave a weird look. He could feel that Vick was teetering between despair and homicidal rage. His bloodshot eyes gave it away. Without a word, Nick gestured for them to follow. They ascended via a hidden elevator back to the ground level. The hallway was silent. Agent Nick observed the boys. They stared back, unsure what was coming next.
When they exited the elevator onto the second floor, they were greeted by a demolished warzone. Toppled shelves. Cracked tiles. Smashed perfume bottles. Noodles scattered like confetti.
Agent Nick checked the wall clock, looked at them with dead seriousness.
"You've got three hours before peak business. Clean this mess. Rearrange everything. Any damage? It's coming out of your paycheck. This would be your first mission. I'll brief you after."
And just like that, they were officially employees of chaos.
To Be Continue.