A small cluster of Agents had gathered around the book, which sat sealed inside a reinforced glass case beneath the watchful eye of a mounted camera. The containment area of the library reflected faintly off the glass, giving the object an almost museum-like presentation; if museums displayed ticking bombs.
Two nearby tablets rested on adjustable stands, each displaying digitized pages of the book. Agents scrolled carefully, as if even the digital copy might somehow bite back.
“It’s got another group of ‘adventurers’,” one of them muttered, flicking through the scanned pages with a finger. “Unsure where they are located or if we can get to them in time before it locks them in.”
A quiet hum of unease moved through the group.
“This thing sent out trap brochures to itself,” another agent added, leaning in slightly. “That’s… new. Or maybe just worse.”
“How many?”
“Nine. Nine people this time.”
Someone gave a low whistle.
“You think Greg’s gonna set up another betting board?” a voice asked from the back.
A few heads turned, some annoyed, some grimly amused.
“That’s morbid.”
“He calls it ‘predictive casualty modeling.’”
“You’re betting on who dies first.”
“I didn’t say I liked it,” the speaker shrugged. “But last time he was right about three of them.”
“Still,” another agent said, arms folded, staring at the frozen image of a tavern scene on one tablet. “If we could get last names out of them, they’d be easier to find. Cross-reference missing persons, social media, travel records… something.”
“If they’re from here,” someone else added quietly.
That dampened the conversation for a moment.
The group lingered in uneasy silence, scrolling through images of strangers who didn’t yet know they were in danger; or perhaps already did.
Some of the Agents were here because they genuinely hoped there was still something they could do. They studied every line of text, every detail in the images, searching for clues that might place the victims in the real world.
Others stood with arms crossed, watching the screens with detached curiosity. They’d seen this before. Sometimes people made it out. Often they didn’t.
And a few, though none would openly admit it, were here for the story.
After all, in the Enigma Agency, even tragedies had a way of becoming legends.