Twinkle in Sweet Repose

[The Vision]

A door swung open with an ominous creak. Even the safehouse was ominous in this Verse. Vision and Mr. Wright looked up. Lysander entered, followed by two people in tactical gear. Vision’s eyebrows rose. None of his calculations could explain why the medieval scholar’s colleagues included two members of what appeared to be a strike team. Their generic assault rifles were slung behind them, and they each held their helmets and goggles in their hands. A military-issued mask covered all facial features but their eyes.

“Avengers, meet the rest of your team. This is Agent Ironheart..."

Agent Ironheart was a small, old man that seemed quite large. Hair clung to his scalp appeared to be defying the eviction notices that come to follicles with old age. He had a scar above his eye, not the kind that reminds you of a stupid decision but one that reminds you why you have a gun slung around your back. It was faded, but showed no signs of healing. His hands were held behind him, giving him a regal look. Agent Ironheart nodded dismissively at the two Avengers.

Lysander gestured at another agent. “And Agent Salvador.”

Agent Salvador was a considerably taller woman. The Vision was reminded of Captain Rogers, if Captain Rogers was plagued by pessimism. Salvador had no scars on her face, but she had rings below her eyes that resembled age rings in old oak trees. Somehow they seemed to silently scream in fury. She just wildly scanned the two robots with her angry eyes.

Both soldiers were clearly grizzled in combat, far more prepared to enter combat situations than to act diplomatically. The Vision knew this kind of people. He saw it in Magneto. It was the tired soldier who was fighting a war against the universe.

“Agent Crimson is currently gathering supplies for your expedition,” Lysander added, “You’ll meet her shortly. We have hired you and this team to retrieve the Artefact.”

Vision nodded. “Query: how many years of combat do each of you have?”

“Been fighting for five years now,” Ironheart replied, his voice nearing a snarl.

“Only about two,” Salvador said, “And I can’t speak for Crimson, but she’s been in the team for about three months.”

“She can handle herself,” Ironheart assured, “as long as you can.”

“We can handle ourselves fine,” Mr. Wright snapped. Vision gently brushed his hand against Mr. Wright’s and gave him a stern look.

“Neither Mr. Wright nor I are new to combat,” Vision explained, “However, we are admittedly inexperienced in the phenomena concerning Silent Hill. I’ve gleaned what information I could from the Omninet, but it would be helpful for both my colleague and myself to receive a debriefing.”

Salvador’s eyebrow twitched. “So you’re sure it’s Silent Hill?”

“Calm yourself, Salvador,” Ironheart grunted.

“Can’t be that bad,” Mr. Wright muttered.

Salvador halted in her tracks, turning to meet Mr. Wright’s gaze.

“Can’t be that bad?” Salvador snapped.

Ironheart made the same motion the Vision did, trying to catch Salvador before she went too far. Salvador ignored Ironheart’s warning. She clicked her tongue and approached Mr. Wright aggressively.

“There are things there,” Salvador spat, “Things that make your skin crawl right off your bones.”

“Salvador.”

“Things that’ll make you swallow your own heart.”

“Salvador, that’s enough!”

The crazed woman brushed past Ironheart. “It knows what you’re afraid of. It knows what you don’t want to see.”

“It knows if you’ve been bad or good?” Mr. Wright chuckled.

Vision laid the back of his hand against Mr. Wright’s shoulder, his body whirring. “Mr. Wright, it is unwise to continue aggravating our teammates.”

“Listen to your green boyfriend, machine,” Salvador hissed.

Vision glared at Salvador.

“Agent Ironheart, please restrain your teammate. Her abrasive words may cause unnecessary conflict between our teams.”

“Restrain?” Ironheart sniffed disdainfully, “I had falsely believed that your kind would be more neutral. Besides, I believe your companion started the argument."

“Oh yeah, that’s real mature,” Mr. Wright goaded.

“ENOUGH!”

All four of them turned to look at Lysander. Despite being an elderly scholar surrounded by dangerous fighters, he did not flinch from holding command of the room.

“This bickering will not do,” Lysander harrumphed, “Set aside your petty prejudices. You will travel to the heart of Silent Hill, retrieve the Artefact, then bring it back. You must, for the sake of the Omniverse. If you would kindly remove your heads from your arses while doing so.”

The door abruptly swung open, releasing a creak that sounded almost like it was being rushed, revealing another soldier. She had her mask pulled down, but otherwise she was dressed in the same gear that Ironheart and Salvador had donned. Presumably, this was Agent Crimson. She was in the middle of chewing a stiff piece of bread, which was leaving crumbs all over her gear.

“Wha’?” Crimson asked.

Noticing the two newly arrived Avengers, she wiped the crumbs from her face and reached out her hand, attempting a kindly grin.

“Oh, you must be the new guys. I’m Crimson. I guess you’ve already met everyone else.”

Vision shook her hand unsteadily. Mr. Wright shook his head instead, leaving Crimson a bit uncomfortable.

“So uh...” Crimson cleared her throat. “Lysander tells me you’re robots.”

***

Vision scratched his chin.

“Query: you are sure that this ‘beacon’ originates from within the fog?”

“All of our scouts point to Silent Hill,” Lysander replied.

“Do we know where in the town the light comes from?” Marcus asked.

“There are two sources of light we could detect through the mist.” Lysander pointed at his maps. “A bright yellow one here, and a generally colorless one here.”

“That’s the lighthouse near that resort,” Ironheart noted.

Lysander continued, “So we can assume the other one is the Artefact.”

“Query: from whom did you receive these maps?”

“Me,” Ironheart replied, “I lived in Silent Hill, once. I was on an off-Verse mission when the fog rolled in.”

Vision glanced at the old man, then looked back down at the maps.

“Very well. Your scouts reported that the yellow light appeared to be close beside the lighthouse’s light?”

“Correct. One man said he thought the yellow light appeared closer.”

“And he was standing to the north. Which would place the Artefact somewhere...”

> draw “quill” square(“lighthouse”, 45)

The Vision lifted a nearby quill with red ink. He lightly sketched a nearly perfect long rectangle between the lighthouse and the Silent Hill city limits.

“...around here. We should begin searching that area and move towards the light, so to speak.”

“Ah, that... complicates things.”

The Vision and Mr. Wright looked up. Lysander looked to Ironheart, who sighed.

“Of the many ‘curses’ holding Silent Hill, one of them seems to assure that, no matter how well prepared one is for the journey, you never end up where you want to.”

“In other words,” Mr. Wright groaned, “no matter how we go in, we’re gonna be lost.”

“Once you’re inside, you will have to ascertain your location using these maps,” Lysander concluded, “At that point, it should be fairly simple to locate the Artefact.”

“We are ready to depart when you are,” Ironheart announced, taking his leave with a bow.