Prologue: Then she hears something else,
Something calling out to her, she couldn't hear it but sense it,
It sounded like human but not human.
Something that spoke, but not with words,
A voice that was strange yet familiar,
Her world fell into da...
"Its will be fine, Vice principal will handle everything in my absence"
...
".....Yes, it is matter of urgency I must address"
Omar had taken leave from university to pursure after the lost Diary from archives,
he was driving to the Research department of Occult Archive's.
The East Gate University of Oujda
The Archive's bases were spread through out the country of Morocco,
The West gate academy was cover for field operations and special operations in Casablanca,
Even under Operations department they had several teams, for which Omar was Chief of Platoon-06,
The most unruly platoon in entire Occult archives which led them to have enemies everywhere,
including within the department itself but not even that council or chairman himself had full authority over Platoon-06.
Similarly there were other departments under the archives,
The East Gate was a research facility as well as an medical university to nurture more researchers for the archive's which was under direct control of Chairman of the Archive's,
Omar was heading towards the Research Department of Archives, Research department was most heinous department under the archives,
their methods were unorthodox and inhumane, yet Research department it thrived under command of current chairman who was ruthless in his work,
he had even permitted to carry out human trails which was condemned by many within the archive's
but it was also true that he brough the archives to greatest height that none of former chairman could ever have,
Omar arrives at entrance of research department,
it's structures weren't any different from the West gate academy, but the security in there were nothing alike compared to other departments,
Omar sighs as his eyes sweeps his eyes through the department building,
it was hospital in name sake only, but it resembled more to an fortress, an impenetrable Fortress,
Nothing could escape inside of that facility,
Omar opens door of his black Mercedes and straightens his long coat,
he pulls out a indian cigar from his left coat pocket and lights it with his vintage Zippo style lighter with date engraved 03.20.1996.
the smoke brushes off against his silver hair as his face forms wrinkles around his weary yet fierce eyes,
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