The fluorescent lights of the hallway buzzed with a monotonous lifeless hum, echoing the slow, predictable rhythm of Tuesday bleeding into Wednesday. Anthony shuffled through the motions, his tired feet falling on the polished concrete floor with a rhythmic thump that mirrored the familiar gurgling of the espresso machine in the distance. The aroma of burnt caramel and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the sterile air, a comforting scent that usually served as a soothing lullaby, lulling him into the familiar routine of the office day. But today, the scent seemed to hold a stale edge, unable to penetrate the growing unease that settled in his gut.

Reaching the queue, Anthony joined the line of his fellow drones, their faces etched with the same weary acceptance of the day's tasks ahead: TPS reports, conference calls, the usual corporate drudgery. As he inched forward, the monotony was shattered by a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He turned, his gaze drawn to the end of the hallway where Mr. Raméz, his normally stoic manager, stood rigidly before a door marked "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" in stark crimson. The air around the door seemed to shimmer with a faint, ethereal light, an anomaly that pulsed like a beating heart, captivating Anthony's attention.

Through the large windows lining the hallway, Anthony caught glimpses of the wilderness surrounding Lima. Lush, green vegetation climbed the foothills of the distant Andes, a stark contrast to the sterile environment he found himself in. The vibrant hues outside seemed to mock the muted tones of his office world, a reminder of the extraordinary that existed just beyond the confines of these walls. Today, however, the beauty of the landscape held no solace. Instead, it fueled the unease growing within him, a crack appearing in the carefully constructed facade of his mundane life, revealing a world of secrets hidden behind a seemingly ordinary door.

Then, a flicker in the corner of Anthony's eye, a distortion in the air like heat rising off pavement, and then it was there, standing beside him. A holographic exuded an unsettling perfection that sent shivers down his spine. Its skin, the color of alabaster, seemed to emit a faint, otherworldly luminescence that cast long, ethereal shadows under the harsh fluorescent lights. Its raven hair, styled in a way that defied gravity, framed a face sculpted from the dreams of fashion magazines - flawless features devoid of any imperfections or the lines that spoke of lived experience.

But the most unsettling aspect was the pair of sleek, black shades perched atop its nose. They were large, almost comically oversized, obscuring the entirety of the figure's eyes, shrouding them in an impenetrable veil of secrecy. Anthony felt a primal urge to rip them off, to see what secrets lay hidden beneath, but an unseen force held him back. The shades seemed to pulsate with an energy that mirrored the figure's ethereal glow, emanating from the source of this intrigue: his eyes, further fueling the feeling that this was far from an ordinary being. Although, unbeknownst to him, this was no other than the person that steered TANT, and continues to steer them. It has now come for him. But what for?

Then they spoke, its voice a deep, melodious baritone that resonated with an otherworldly quality, as if it originated from somewhere beyond the Realm of Existence. Yet, the way its lips barely moved as it spoke, and the complete lack of any accompanying body language, fueled the growing unease within Anthony, as it commanded "follow him, destiny awaits." Was this a figment of his overworked mind, a hallucination brought on by the job's relentless stress and pressure? Or was it something more, something alien cloaked in the familiar guise of humanity, its true nature hidden not only by the shades, but by the very fabric of reality itself?

Anthony's mind raced, searching for answers. Was this a being of immense power, a trickster spirit toying with him, or something altogether different? The uncertainty gnawed at him, fueling both fear and a morbid curiosity. The shades became a symbol of the enigma before him. For the most important things are often the ones we cannot see, awaiting to be unveiled.

Back to our story, Anthony stood rooted in his place, coffee forgotten, eyes widened, jaw hunch open, petrified, but before he could contemplate the figure's command, his legs moved subconsciously, as he snapped out for a second, driven solely by instinct, as he ventured into the gaping maw of the door, and thus the unknown and forbidden.

Once inside, a cavernous archive stretched before him out of sight, towering shelves groaning under the weight of forbidden knowledge. The air crackled with a static energy, whispers of untold secrets dancing on the edge of his hearing, the shadows in ink residing within leather-bound tones eager to tell forbidden tales now lost to time - it was no other than the restricted archive section.

Then, papers scattered on the floor – the same ones our previous heroes, TANT, had found a year ago, whispers of a dark truth. As Anthony got back to his sense, and brushed his fingertips across the brittle pages, an icy dread sank into his bones, sending shivers down his spine, his body hair spiked: headquarters in North Peru, human experiments, weapons of unimaginable power, a global conspiracy of world domination – the whispers were true. Coffee forgotten, a cold sweat prickled his skin. Destiny, it seemed, had a taste for forbidden knowledge, and Anthony had just taken a sip.

"It's all true. They were right." Anthony whispered to himself, as he began trembling, realization weighing heavy on him.

But beyond the terror, a strange allure bloomed within him. It was like a forbidden flower pushing through cracked pavement, captivating with its macabre beauty and the intoxicating scent of danger. He was no hero, a mere cog in the grander corporate machine; disposable, replaceable and insignificant. Yet, a rebellious ember flickered within him, fanned by the sudden revelation of the city's underbelly. Perhaps, in this grim symphony of chaos and disorder, there was an opportunity to rewrite his own melody, to break free from the monotonous rhythm of his preordained life.

He never noticed the figure reappear before him, Mr. Raméz standing tall, a shadow stretching long and ominous under the harsh fluorescent lights. The knowing smile playing on his lips sent a shiver down Anthony's spine, his gaze sharp and cold, staring right into his soul. The script, Anthony soon realized with a sickening certainty, was already etched in invisible ink, and he was merely the next line, destined to be written upon, his choices an illusion, his future now in the hands of the company.

"Anthony Mikhailovich Semyonov, you are explicitly violating the non-disclosure agreement you signed when you were employed, you know the rules, and so do I" he commanded, a playful smile on his lips, as if he were waiting for this exact moment.

"L-l... look...! I- I can explain! T- This... weird handsome government agent! He... told me to come here! And... I can...- stay quiet...! Just... l- let me keep my job, okay?" pleaded Anthony, as he was on his knees, shouting hysterically.

His manager remained ever stoic and composed, a chilling contrast to the tendrils of darkness that began to emanate from his form. A malicious smile stretched across Mr. Raméz's face, the playful glint replaced by a cold, predatory gleam. As he hissed, "It's too late..."

"...however, we're in need of... subjects..." he then added, the air crackled with an unseen energy. Inky black tendrils, like wisps of smoke, erupted from his body, swirling around Anthony with an unsettling sentience. His left eye, usually a cool brown, pulsed a malevolent crimson, reflecting a darkness that seemed to originate from a place beyond human comprehension. It was anything but comforting and familiar.

A cold dread, like a serpent coiling around his heart, squeezed with icy intensity. Anthony's breath hitched in his throat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as despair, thick and suffocating, filled his lungs. His limbs turned to lead, refusing to obey his frantic commands. His vision blurred at the edges, the once-sterile fluorescent lights morphing into a kaleidoscope of distorted colors. His chest tightened, a vice squeezing the air from his lungs, making every inhale a desperate struggle. A cacophony of negative emotions, a torrent of terror, helplessness, and a strange, unsettling allure, washed over him in a sickening wave. As Mr. Raméz looked in pleasure, akin to a vulture watching his prey die.

Amidst the storm, the whispers slithered into his mind, insidious and seductive. "Don't fight it," they hissed, their voices a sordid chorus of darkness, "Embrace it." The words resonated with a perverse logic, a twisted promise of escape from the crushing weight of his ordinary life. But a flicker of defiance, a spark of his own will, ignited within him. He wouldn't succumb, not without a fight. With a herculean effort, he tried to scream, to tear free from the invisible shackles binding him, but the sound died in his throat, a strangled whimper escaping his lips instead. What is his fate? Would he make it out of this alive? Or falter?

|---------------------------------------|BONUS|---------------------------------------|

The tendrils, having consumed Anthony, retreated back into Mr. Raméz's form, leaving behind no trace of their malevolent presence. Then, his body began to warp and contort, becoming a figure familiar to us - The Vengeful One, as he dragged Anthony's body and teleported away, leaving behind lingering shadows and a black mist... Despite all the questions, one thing remained certain - the seeds of adventure planted within the past two chapters began to grow.

(Minor note: vote comment and share if you liked it blah blah blah... but Felix won't appear for the rest of part 2, and hope you like it :3)