"Alright, see you then," Maria replied, turning to put on her helmet before Colonel Parker stopped her.
"Wait, one more thing," Parker called out, causing Maria to turn back. "Where are Mr. Emberweave and Mr. Stenmark? I haven't seen them for the past few days. Have they already left?" he asked.
"Something like that. You don't need to worry about them," Maria vaguely answered, and Parker didn't press further, merely curious about their whereabouts.
Within the city of Austin, under strict Confederate martial law, especially during the curfew hours, the once bustling streets now fall into eerie silence. They are illuminated sporadically by flickering street lights or the harsh beams of military vehicles patrolling the area intermittently.
Armed Confederate soldiers stand guard at nearly every corner, their presence intimidating the local population. The normally vibrant neighborhoods lie deserted, with shops and businesses tightly shuttered. Their windows are darkened, concealing any glimpse of activity within. Only a few curious eyes of local citizens dare to peek outside from the safety of their homes.
Months of forceful occupation by the Confederacy have fueled growing animosity among the local population. Random searches, confiscations, and even assaults—both physical and sexual—have left a deep sense of fear and resentment.
Many locals have been forcefully drafted into slavery, with loved ones torn from their families. This pain is a wound that may never fully heal as long as the Confederacy remains in power.
—
A lone figure, impeccably dressed in a suit despite the grime of the deserted alley, fidgeted with his golden pocket watch. Albert, the Master of Whispers, scanned the shadows, waiting. A sudden tendril of fog materialized, coalescing into the sleek form of Maria, clad in her stealth suit.
"Ms. Maria," Albert greeted, his voice a low murmur. He swiftly produced a flash drive, extending it towards her.
Maria, ever silent, took the device and plugged it into her wrist console. A holographic map flickered to life, revealing the Confederate stronghold where hostages and slaves were held captive.
"Additionally," Albert continued, reaching into his suit, "take this." He produced a gold coin, one side etched with a raven symbol, the other emblazoned with a single 'W.' This was the emblem of the Whispering Hall, the gold signifying the holder's rank.
"Present this to the lieutenant commanding Sector 3-6-B's patrol. He's one of ours. If all goes according to plan, the hostages and slaves will be free within three hours, before dawn breaks."
"Thank you," Maria finally spoke, her voice a hushed whisper.
"No need for thanks, Ms. Maria" Albert replied, a hint of reverence in his tone. "This is for our Lord."
"For our Lord," Maria murmured, a single nod is her only farewell. With that, she dissolved into a swirling mist, vanishing as swiftly as she had appeared. The alley remained shrouded in shadow, the only sound the rhythmic tick-tock of Albert's golden pocket watch.
"The time is ticking; let's get the show on the road, shall we? Let the Curtained World be aware of our return, the return of the Whispering Hall," Albert uttered before the red glowing eyes glowed from the darkness surrounding the desolate alleys.
Albert turned back and slowly vanished into the darkness along with the dark figures, owners of the red glowing eyes that surrounded him.
On the streets of Austin, Confederate patrols were on the move, searching for any lawbreakers of the curfew and any threats. They were acutely aware that the US forces were just 30 kilometers away, and they needed to secure the hostages, knowing that their adversaries valued their citizens.
Rarity: Common
Type: Human - Spy
Mana Cost: 1 Water, 1 Dark, 1 Non-Element
Description:
Camouflage
Pay 1 Water and 1 Dark. Whispering Hall Saboteur gains Unblockable until the end of the turn.
If Whispering Hall Saboteur deals damage to a player, destroy a target artifact or enchantment that player controls.
Power: 1
Toughness: 1
Flavor Text: The backbone of the Whispering Hall, they ensure competitors' assets fail or malfunction during ruthless business competitions.
—
At a hidden concentration camp, hundreds of hostages and slaves were held by the Confederacy, ready to be sent to Washington DC. Maria stood among her infiltrator units, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of Confederate soldiers who had been attacked by enraged former slaves and hostages.
Many women, their once beautiful features now marred by tears and the marks of violence, were beating the corpses of the soldiers while cursing. The condition of their clothing resembled rags, and signs of brutal treatment were evident on their bodies. Only Gods know what they had gone through.
"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner," Maria said to one of the women, who appeared to be a leader among them.
"It's not your fault, Miss. Who could have predicted that those Confederate slavers bastard would suddenly change their treatment of slaves?" said the woman.
"Huh? What do you mean?" inquired Maria.
The woman let out a sigh, then explained. "You see, before this, the Confederacy's treatment of slaves was much better. Since they viewed them as products, they didn't want their 'products' damaged. Everything was about business, ensuring the slaves were in good condition as damaged goods don't sell well. But the policy suddenly changed recently.
It's like we've regressed to the dark ages where human life is the cheapest," the woman said.
Maria nodded and decided to include this in her report to her lord.