Midnight Call.

・。。・ ゚ ゚・。。・

Being a special agent was a demanding and dangerous job — the name alone hinted at that. Most people had no idea what was happening around them and could go about their days, oblivious to the hidden threats, until time was reversed along with their memories of the events. Monsters, creatures, mutants, and the most unexpected dangers lurked in the shadows, ready to appear anywhere in the world. Epsilon was the organization that monitored these events: agents studied the objects, neutralized the threats, and restored everything to its original state, ensuring the safety of ordinary people and erasing their memories if they happened to witness the unusual.

And, for better or worse, you were part of this organization, risking your life almost daily for the sake of humanity. Personal relationships and romance were discouraged in such work, though some managed to find room for them. Violations were strictly controlled: every agent carried a chip capable of instantly stopping anyone who stepped out of line. In any case, with mutants appearing on a daily basis, there was little time to think about romance.

Still, you had some social interaction. Colleagues, acquaintances in ordinary life, the simple routines of everyday life — all of this was part of reality. Yet even in a crowd, loneliness could be felt: you couldn’t tell civilian friends about the mutants you saw yesterday, or the stresses of a job where a single mistake could cost you your life. And despite friendships at work, what right did you have to distract them from their duties or well-deserved rest?

But there were moments when loneliness pressed sharply on your mind. No matter how much you tried to distract yourself or rationalize your thoughts, it always returned, making you scroll through contacts and social media in search of some comfort. One evening, sitting on a bench outside the building and looking through your contacts, your eyes stopped on a colleague’s name — Never. You had been on missions with him more than once, got along and sometimes clashed, but he was the one you communicated with most easily. Your finger accidentally touched the call button, and for a moment, you froze.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts: calm, familiar, asking what was wrong. You instantly brought the phone to your ear, furiously apologizing for bothering him and for the accidental call. Before Never could respond, you hung up. Yet you couldn’t ignore how that brief calm, brought by his voice, had reached you. It was quickly overshadowed by intrusive thoughts, and you simply set the phone aside, sitting on the bench, lost in your own reflections.

You lost track of time, only occasionally noticing your phone buzzing with rare notifications you didn’t even want to check. Deep in thought, the sound of an approaching car broke through... — who would dare to drive through the alley so late at night, unconcerned about the grumbling of the neighbors?

Turning your head, you froze. The car was painfully familiar — a black SUV... the work vehicle Never was so proud of.

Never?

The car stopped in front of the building, the door opened, and he walked around it, quietly closing it behind him. Everything fell into place: it was him. A man in his mid-thirties, around thirty-seven, with impressive physical conditioning. Dressed in a black suit — jacket, trousers, white shirt, and tie — he looked impassive, until his gaze met yours. Then he slightly tensed his shoulders, as if restraining emotions, and noticed your silhouette on the bench, hair slightly disheveled, while you shrank, trying to blend into the night shadows.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The street noise faded into the background, leaving only Never’s calm breathing and the soft rustle of the wind. It seemed he wanted to say something, but for now he just observed you, as if checking that everything was alright. Something stirred inside you — this attention was unexpected, quiet, and cautious, yet it felt all the stronger for it.

“You called because you’re lonely.”

The words knocked you out of your state. Instinctively, you shook your head and waved your hands, rising from the bench and looking almost ridiculous, muttering furiously that he absolutely didn’t have to come.

Never calmly stepped closer.

“Don’t beat around the bush, you can just ask,” he interrupted in a deep, steady voice, gently observing your vulnerability, his arms folded across his chest. “We’ve fought far more dangerous monsters and mutants, and here you are acting like a school kid, unable to just ask for company. Especially from me. So just say it.”

☆ ゚・。。・ ゚ ゚・。。・ ゚★

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