My name is Barnabas. That's it, no family name attached to it. Only a certain percentage of unlucky people follows this naming convention. It's customary to have only a single word name when you're the last person in a line of a huge lineage, at least if you recognized anyone else besides yourself.

Even in this moment of loneliness, my life is still full of colorful characters. Let's take example of what's happening now. The setting is classical, a restaurant full of hungry white colored workers. Tables are typically messy, full of grease, coffee spill, and tissue paper.

The cup I'm using right now has a self heating script inscribed below it. Average for most things in cafes around this part of The Republic. Three drops of mana is all you need to reheat a cold tea. There's bubbling noise, coming from the bottom of my cup. It's relaxing in a way, sort of meditative.

I can easily get lost in an environment, acting as a passive observer, learning from what I see, rather than what I read. This restaurant is a perfect example of that. For instance, let me tell you about that bundle of buddies in the corner of this open aired cafe.

They are bunching up together, munching down their hot meal in a hurry. I can see their uniform and bags, plastered with company logos. Their shoes are made out of black leather, obviously synthetic if you look close enough.

So from this you can deduce that they are some white collar workers that's late for their office hour.

That's all there is to it when it comes to observation. It's about creating a story by deducing real life facts. This of course, not too different from what I do everyday. Analyzing magical devices. That's my job after all.

Today's has been perfectly aligned with what's expected of my standards, or as they said, routine. I woke up freshly this morning without any incidents. Clothes are readily available in my cupboard, neatly packed by myself once a week. My mana container is filled to the brim as always and I still have enough time to eat some breakfast.

The public should be arriving soon, so I decided to pay my teas and soft bread filled with melted cheese and boiled veggies around it.

I tend ignore how much money I used every time I'm paying for a meal. I have enough money to not care about it and I'm trying to always support my local establishment. Not out of the kindness of my own heart, but because it's practical and efficient for the time I waste on the cashier.

But today, something felt different, off. Someone else is manning the cashier today, not that girl that's usually here. She always try to make a small talk with me, often blushing whenever I'm paying. Probably caused by the cold air that's often rushing from those opened window.

She's been replace by a new guy now, someone young, most likely a high school student. He's not using the appropriate attire, the one usual dark green and black one. This guy is wearing something completely different. Just a black on black shirt and jeans. He's definitely a new guy.

I pull out my mana container, preparing to pay my bill.

Barnabas

I bought a chamomile tea and the number two, as usual.

Cashier Guy

Al- Alright, that will all be 20 La. Please, pay through this account please...

Barnabas

Hey kid.

Cashier Guy

Ye- Yes?

Barnabas

You new here?

Cashier Guy

Ye- yes.

Barnabas

Where is the usual. The girl.

Cashier Guy

I'm sorry si- sir. I don't get what you're saying.

Barnabas

The girl, usual one. She's short, sweet, and talks to me every time I'm paying for my breakfast.

Where is she?

Cashier Guy

I'm sorry sir, but that's private information. I can't just give it away to-

I tap the cashier table firmly with a knuckle in my middle finger. My eyes are forward, doing my best impression of a pissed off man. This guy have no spine behind him, I can push him a bit more.

I feel like she's essential for my routine somehow. Usually I only account for time, place, and situation. But this is the first time I ever felt like a person also matters. She needs to be there or my routine won't be complete.

Cashier Guy

Sir please ca- calm down!

Barnabas

I've eaten at this place longer that you've ever worked in your life boy. Are you trying to mark yourself as incompetent? Will you really disappoint me and not serve a regulars like me?

Cashier Guy

Sir, please...

Barnabas

I will ask this one more time. Where is she, and why is she not here?

He visibly recoils back, covering up his face with his arms, and made a squeaky noise, much like a girl would do.

Cashier Guy

I'm sorry please, please! I'll tell you okay...

She's not here anymore, not employed or anything. She quits last night but I don't know why! I'm as confused as you're, so please!

She's not here anymore. That's all I hear coming out of his mouth. That's all I need to know. I quickly pay everything and begrudgingly walks away from him. The ding of door bell is heard throughout the restaurant, marking my exit from it.

I was late for my tram, by a minute. Waiting for another one is a bit too long for my liking, so I took a shortcut towards another tram line that also goes near my workplace.

Around me is people that uses technology and magic side by side. They are heating themselves up with self-heating shirts, using a similar magic script like the one that heats my tea up. Some scaffolding worker are seen attaching themselves to building. Their knees and feet are sticking like a gecko. For safety, they're still using a safety rope that's hanging tightly from the roof.

Back when I was a little boy, things still goes on wheels, touching the ground. But now because of magic research and the advancement of mass produced magical devices, even household items are levitating above the ground. The magic of levitation has been getting more efficient now, to a point where a single mana drop can levitate a basket of fruits for a day.

Passerby

Hey watch out!

Barnabas

Oy, you too! Slow down!

Some prick just brush passed me. He's riding a mana powered roller blades which are needed to traverse the city. Because this area is full of pedestrian dominated road, only people and trams can go through here. Cars are not allowed to even enter, except if there's an emergencies which doesn't happen often. Some companies decided to cash-in on this situation by inventing new way of traversal that doesn't defy the law. Because of that, some teenagers are far more agile and also a hazard to those that doesn't walk at the speed of light.

I can classify myself as a "classical man". This foot and public transportation is all I need for my daily commute. It's far more healthy because I can keep my weight below 70 Stone.

Ah yes, the measurement of Stone. It's funny isn't it, how culture and practicality define our way of expressing things. Back then people weigh things by cutting up stones to a certain sizes and then use that as a base of measurement. Then as time progresses, they use water at a particular temperature to calibrate their machines. But now everything need to be precise, so they're using lights and quantum stuff to define a single "Stone".

Shame that magic isn't that accurate for things like these. They can only be controlled at a macro level, but it's all over once you go microscopic. There's a reason why devices with magic have a high margin of error. But we did circumvent some of its imprecise behavior within some application, like for commercial flight.

Barnabas

Tram!

The tram slows down to a crawl, letting me get inside. It's a box on wheels, with length not longer than 30 arms. The color of this tram corresponds to the route that it takes. I usually took the red one even though it has the same end point of the green one. But by experience, I know this one takes the shorter route, just goes straight to my office's complexes.

Everyone is either sitting or standing silently, trying to pass the time by reading something on their smartphone. News from the government are often boring. The rise and fall of vegetable prices, several officials getting caught because he mishandles a couple of La, people going to prisons, that kinds of news.

The kinds of news that is jarring if compared to a country where I came from. I've seen what an uncaring system would do to its people. A place that would put the system first before its citizen's lives. Souls wasted on a medical table because of a rejected insurance policy. Men imprisoned by a rule so ancient it might as well be expired. Bad things that are preventable, if only those who are in power can at least have a little sympathy. Law should be followed by the spirit, not the letter.

But here, this country is anything but that. Everyone looks lively. People actually trust in each other goodwill. The system is kind but strict, yet not oppressive. Laws are made by human beings, flawed and need correction all the time. We're not all angels, even the officials know that they were often wrong. Everything is transparent and roles have their places. For example, to mitigate any intrusive influences by big corporations, we have decided to ban politicians and their families from trading shares.

A perfect place for idealistic people to thrive. Not the kind of perfect where it doesn't change. But the kind that forces competent people to lead the way instead of doing something that they shouldn't be. Politician is a puppet of the people, not because they don't have an agency, but because they're good at being politician.

As I lost in my thoughts, the building that I recognized is approaching from the distant. I rung a bell near the door, slowing down the tram. I leap outside the train once it's slow enough, then start a small jog towards that building.

Built nearly a hundred years ago, its age is masked by a new paint and frequent reconstruction. There's a flower shop in front, with an elevator to reach the other stores that's placed on top of each other. People often goes here to make banners and decorations for community based yearly events. A week from now, there should be a big celebration that will be participated by people nation-wide. But that's something we should talk about later, rather than in the present.

The entrance of my destination doesn't lie by the front door. It's actually cleverly located behind this building, at a brown, dull-colored door. It's unlocked, like any usual doors do here. But the cool thing is that there's another door inside.

I get in and close the dull door behind me. My face is clearly shown to a mirror, place unassumingly on the right side of this room. There's actually a hidden camera behind it, but it blends in with the environment so no one actually suspect a thing.

The door's lock is clicking. An automated system opens it for me. There's someone behind it, waiting in a standing position, with her hand crossed politely near the hip. A person that I grew to know for as long as I have worked here.

Barnabas

How are you doing in this fine morning, Miss Rose?

With a straight face, she replies flatly.

Miss Rose

Doing fine. Let's get down to business, Mr. B. The Agency is waiting for our work to be done by tomorrow night.

The Republic. The Agency. The guy who named all of these establishment sure have a great imagination. Let me introduce myself. My name is Mr. B, working as the main man for Department of Magic Exploration and Mana Exploitation. This slim figured woman here is Miss Rose. You'll get used to her cold stare after a while, so don't worry.

Mr. B

We sure got deadlines. Let's walk to the lab.

Miss Rose

Let's.

This building is just a regular office with extra precautions. Metal doors and windowless rooms have filled every one of its nooks and crannies. I can hear slight banging and occasional laughter from every door. I'm quite happy that they are happy, even if it's only for a moment.

A storm is coming towards my country. My job is to make sure we can survive through it. Every department of The Agency is doing their best to fulfill a single purpose, at least for the last 3 years or so. An operation so big and yet secret, no one holistically knows what it truly does, yet.

I'm going to ask her some question, while we're still walking towards our lab. This silence is killing me.

Mr. B

So, I assume that-

Miss Rose

Let me stop you there. We are talking about a very sensitive topic here. It should only be done in a very controlled environment.

Mr. B

Got it, sorry. Just trying to kill the silence.

Miss Rose

I like the silence.

This is it, the door to the lab. Formally known as Lab C-03, it's a particular place for some particular people. Everyone knows the legend of this lab, not because of what's in it, but who is usually work there. Men of this department have nicknamed it "Flower Lab", because of a weird unspoken rule that everyone understood. This room is a place only for women, men are allowed only by exceptions.

It just so happened that I'm one of those exempted from that rule. Maybe it's because of my status. Maybe the respect that I have procured over the years as a magic researcher is finally useful to me.

I can at least tell you the most annoying part of this exemption. Leers and stare of death, joking or non-ironic, always followed me around when I'm here. Most male employees that I personally know does touch the subject in a joking manner, but the new guys sure doesn't like me that much. If things are getting out of hand, I think giving more people a pass to this lab should make a pretty enticing reward. I could already imagine a single use ticket called "Flower Pass", where hungry-for-woman teenagers would flock to it like starving crows. I can give one to a special person every 6 months, based on their performance review. The smell of performance gain and interpersonal competition that's going to be born as a result of that ticket is going to be, putrid.

But I should think about it again later after I consult this idea with Miss Rose. She will probably block it from ever happening though. I'm sure having female researcher used as a reward would probably paint a bad picture for management.

Miss Rose

Mr. B?

Mr. B

ohyeahwassup?

Miss Rose

We are here.

Before we come in, please wipe that grin off your face.

Mr. B

Right sorry.

A gust of wind comes out of the room as we open an locked double door. Laboratory tends to be pressurized, keeping dust and other particulate out of the circulation. Most contaminant will usually get sucked by a ventilation system nearby.

Metal and ceramics table filled the room, leaving only a minimal space for someone to walk beside it. Scientific glassware and notes are neatly packed away, ready to be used. The floor is clean and without imperfection. It is a bit chilly inside, but nothing too unbearable for me to handle.

In the middle of the room, lies an unassumingly plain paper bag. On that paper bag, crumpled as time have taken a toll on it, is a faintly written title. It was done using an almost empty whiteboard marker, getting less opaque as the letters goes on. It says, "Dust Protector".

Miss Rose took upon herself to open this paper bag, then grabs a white shirt with a lot of scribbles on it. Anyone with a small amount of common sense would see this shirt as a magical device. Those particularly iconic inscriptions, symbols, that we usually have seen from our daily lives. But this one is different.

Mr. B

This is it.

The ultimate thing-a-magic that will jump start Operation Bed Flowers. Where is the girl that's supposed to be working on this thing?

Miss Rose

Right now she's resting with her daughter that lives near here.

Mr. B

Damn immigrant, she's a slacker and a leech to us. Does she not know that we are a pace away from war?!

She has this menacing look with piercing gaze, created as soon as I said what I had in mind. It's true, the woman that was put in charge of researching this magic device have abandoned this important duty.

Miss Rose

She is a hard worker, sir.

Mr. B

Let's agree to disagree.

Miss Rose

I'm just going to get this over with.

The report is as follows. It all started with two researcher from Milium that happens to have a mother-daughter relationship.

Mr. B

Oh boy, here we go.

I'm unprepared for how much exposition Miss Rose is going to give me.