Chapter Text
Two men stood on a street corner in a torrential downpour. To a bystander, it appeared as though they were waiting for the light to change to cross the street. A trained eye, however, knew to back away as soon as it saw them. Those men were timing something correctly, and it was the sort of thing witnesses shouldn’t stick around for. The light did change, and the men did not move.
One was absolutely huge. Tall, broad-shouldered, hulking, but not unfit, he towered high over his companion’s head. He wore an all black outfit reminiscent of a uniform, with pants that didn’t restrict movement and a sleeveless armored vest. Light brown hair was pulled back in a long ponytail tightly behind him and his eyes flicked around constantly, keeping a watch out for anything and everything. A lightning flash illuminated him a little more clearly, revealing a long scar across his face and a brown scarf around his neck. He looked intimidating to both citizens and practiced agents.
The shorter man carried an umbrella. He only appeared short next to the behemoth beside him; in many ways he was deceptively average for a white American man. His jet black hair was cut cleanly, his black suit featured a coat that went all the way down to his ankles, and a pair of tinted glasses sat on his nose. A regular person would assume him a regular businessman. To that trained eye, however, he was clearly the one of the two in charge. Back straight, eyes focused forward and half-hidden by those lenses, he carried the air of confidence one obtained from having information that an opponent did not. The only flaw in his composure was that he was subtly resting his weight on his left leg.
Thunder rumbled overhead as the two men finally moved in on their target: a store across the street by the name of Clem’s Candy. A bell tinkled as they entered the sweet shop. Behind the counter, Clem looked up at them, quickly stowing away a chocolate bar he had been chewing on. He hastily brushed the crumbs off his shirt and straightened his cap and glasses. “Well, how may I help you gentlemen?”
“We will be helping ourselves, Clem,” the man in the suit said, shaking out and closing his umbrella. He strode up to the counter with the barest of limps, using the umbrella loosely as a cane. It did not deter from his imposing stance. “The merchandise you have here is now the property of the BAI.”
Clem frowned and twirled his mustache. “Can’t say I’ve heard of you guys.”
“The Bureau of Anomalistic Investigations.”
“Oh,” the store owner replied, pretending now to have heard of them. His eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, that merchandise.”
“Indeed,” the man replied. He pushed his tinted glasses further up his nose.
Clem smirked. “Well, you’re gonna have to say the password, then.” He started giggling, but stopped when the man suddenly grabbed the bill of his cap.
“Wink.”
The man pulled the hat off his head and suddenly Clem was no longer a bespectacled, middle-aged candy clerk, but a bespectacled, middle-aged purple goat. He scrambled back from the counter as his true form was revealed, eyes flicking between the man who took his cloaking device and the scarred man by the door who was now cracking his knuckles.
“L-look,” he held up his hands. “If the police sent you, I can pay the fine, but if Big Ma-”
“I am not with the police, Clem.” The man set down the cap and roved his eyes over the counter. “In fact, I am not with any of your kind.”
The goat-man gulped. “Then, then who are you?”
“I am the man the government relies upon for certain… projects.” He raised his hand and pressed the object he had been looking for: a service bell.
Instantly the candy shop shelves were overlaid by panels containing less tooth-rotting joy. Clem yelped as the displays behind him were replaced with more mystical and dangerous objects.
“The kinds of projects they’d rather have dealt with outside of the public eye.”
Clem frantically looked around, but the big man was blocking the outside door and the talking man had moved in front of - dang it - the secret passage to the Hidden City. Briefly, the wild thought that he could fight his way out using his own merchandise assailed him, but it was dashed as quickly as it appeared; he wasn’t much of a fighter and he was only half-sure of what some of the stuff could do. Instead, he shuffled along the wall.
“Look, you - you seem to know what you’re doing, and I don’t want to cause any trouble. Just take what you want and I’ll… you’ll never hear from me again.” He scooched around the opposite end of the counter.
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Clem,” the man replied, watching him try to sneak away. “I am here to confiscate all things mystic.”
Clem yelped again when the big man suddenly moved, much faster than one would expect of his size. He was slammed against the wall, rattling the strange objects on the shelves behind him. Seeing stars, he didn’t notice as the giant pulled his arms behind him and bound them together with magnetic cuffs. His vision cleared marginally when he was pulled back around.
“What… what did I ever do to you?” he slurred. “I take returns!”
The talking man walked up to some of the displays, tapping the floor with his umbrella-cane. “You are a danger to humanity. A threat,” he picked up a mystic device that released, well, Clem didn’t know what other than very bad things, “that threatens. What need do Yokai have of a store like this on the surface?”
Clem grappled to come up with an answer that wouldn’t piss this guy off. All that came out were a bunch of bleats and stutters.
The man looked disgusted and put the device back down. “Hun, have the O’Neil’s transfer these wares to the lab; their plane should be landing soon. We’ll take Clem, here, to Cocytus.”
Clem shuddered. He didn’t like the sound of that. There was also the terrifying fact that he increasingly suspected that these guys were all human. He tried not to think about what that meant… “I’m sure I don’t need to see, ah, Mr. Cocytus,” he stammered. “You guys can just let him know that-”
The man cut him off with a laugh. It sounded raspy and strange. The grip on Clem’s shoulders tightened and he realized the Altaic giant, Hun, was laughing, too. His shoulders shook, but he made no sound that the Yokai’s floppy ears could register.
“How misinformed,” the man composed himself. “Cocytus is not a man, but a place.” He reached behind the counter and pulled out an empty, reusable, grocery bag. He approached them with it. “And in that place, I am God.”
He pulled the bag over his head and Clem knew nothing more.