Eldritch Guidance

Chapter 113 – Sleep Attack

After receiving the grim news about the attack on the Arcanium Archives, Joe and his team wasted no time, leaving Father Crowley behind. The urgency in the air was palpable as they sped through the city streets, their thoughts racing. By the time they arrived, the scene before them was one of chaos and despair.

The perimeter of the Arcanium Archives was crowded with flashing police lights and the wail of sirens. Dozens of police cars were parked haphazardly, and ambulances lined the street with their back doors wide open. The once-quiet institution of knowledge now resembled a disaster zone.

Near the main entrance, a large gathering of people—staff members, scholars, and unlucky visitors—were being carried out on stretchers. Their faces were pale, their bodies limp as paramedics carefully laid them down on the soft grass lining the sidewalk. Many of the victims appeared unconscious, their expressions eerily calm, as if trapped in a dream they couldn’t escape from.

Paramedics dashed back and forth, some rushing into the archive to retrieve more victims while others knelt by the stretchers, checking vitals and administering emergency care. A few people had managed to stagger out on their own, but they looked dazed and disoriented, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. It was clear something terrible had unfolded within those walls.

Joe clenched his fists as he took it all in, his jaw tightening. Mike glanced at Joe, his face grim.

Mike: "You think this is connected to Sorin? Or maybe Jixi?"

Joe: “I don’t know,” Joe replied. “But we won’t know for sure until we get inside.”

Alan, meanwhile, scanned the crowd anxiously, his eyes searching for any sign of his friend.

Alan: “Jafar has to be in there somewhere. He wouldn’t just vanish.”

Joe nodded but kept his focus sharp.

Joe: “Let’s move. We’re not going to get answers standing out here.”

The team pushed forward, weaving through the controlled chaos, determined to uncover the truth behind the attack.

They approached the bustling front entrance of the Archive, where the large double doors loomed ominously. Red glowing runes shimmered across their surface, a clear indication that something was wrong with the enchantments. The usual calming glow of protective wards had turned into an unsettling, pulsing warning. People moved in and out of the entrance in a frantic hurry, adding to the chaos.

As they stepped inside the reception hall, the scene grew even more dire. The floor was lined with simple cotton stretchers, each occupied by unconscious individuals—both staff and visitors. Paramedics moved swiftly between the rows, administering aid wherever they could, while even the police officers who had arrived on the scene were pitching in, carrying people outside to awaiting ambulances. The air smelled faintly of burnt paper and something acrid.

Joe's eyes moved to the wide-open door leading deeper into the Archive. Beyond it, a stream of hazmat-suited personnel was emerging, carrying more unconscious bodies from the restricted sections.

Scanning the reception hall, Joe spotted a familiar face—Victoria, one of the librarians he’d spoken to during his earlier visits to access Sorin’s documents. She was seated in an office chair near the desk, her posture slumped slightly, her normally sharp gaze dulled. Her weekly nodding, answering questions posed by an officer who stood beside her, dutifully taking her account.

Joe made his way toward her, his expression firm but concerned. The officer interviewing her noticed his approach and, recognizing his intent, stepped aside to let him speak with her. Victoria looked up at Joe as he drew closer, her eyes momentarily focusing as if pulling herself out of a fog.

Joe: "Victoria," Joe said softly, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. "Are you alright? What happened here?"

Victoria: “Oh… It is you. Um, sorry… just give me a minute…” she said, clearly struggling to get her thoughts together.

Joe: “What happened to her?” he asked, turning towards the nearby officer.

Officer: “It was a chemical attack. Some sort of sleeping agent was released into the ventilation. Everyone that was in the archive was affected. Currently Victoria was the only one not completely out cold because she was near the door when it happened. And, didn’t get exposed to the brunt of the chemical. But, it is still affecting her.”

Joe: “A sleeping agent? Are you sure?”

Officer: “Yes, that’s what the hazmat team said. They were ninety percent sure it was a sleeping agent of some kind and a very strong one at that. It is why we’re rushing people out of the Archive. The medics are worried over exposure to this chemical would be harmful.”

Joe: “Is the source contained?”

Officer: “Yes. The hazmat team found a canister that was placed into one of the main ventilation ducts in a utility room. They’ve also reversed the ventilation to try suck the fumes out of the archive. But, it is still not safe to go beyond here without protection.”

Joe: “What about the people in the restricted section? Are they okay?” Joe asked, his tone a mix of urgency and concern.

Victoria nodded faintly, her voice still shaky but steady enough to respond.

Victoria: “The restricted section… has its own separate ventilation system. It’s isolated from the rest of the Archive’s airways, so the people in there should be fine. But…” She hesitated, her eyes flickering with unease. “The lockdown measures were triggered. That means no one can enter or exit for the next twenty-four hours unless… it’s overridden by at least five head librarians. And… they’re all unconscious right now.”

Joe’s brow furrowed.

Joe: “But nothing was taken from the restricted section, right? Some of the books in there could cause serious devastation if they fell into the wrong hands.”

The officer shook his head.

Officer: “As of now, there’s no evidence that anything has been removed from the restricted section. The lockdown is still holding, and the inventory seals on the section’s door remain intact.”

Joe exhaled, a slight relief evident in his expression.

Joe: “Okay. That’s at least one good thing. But who would do this?”

Victoria: “T-That’s the thing…” Victoria stammered, her voice trembling. “There was… a note. Left by someone claiming to be behind this. And it seems to be connected to the Jixi investigation.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed, his tone firm. “Can I see this note?”

Victoria turned her head toward the officer standing nearby. The officer gave a quick nod, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Joe, who carefully unfolded it. The note’s contents were typed in neat, mechanical letters, giving it a cold, detached feel. Joe began reading aloud:

As the last word left Joe’s lips, a tense silence hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and his grip on the paper tightened, wrinkling its edges.

Alan: "One of our own? Wait... Is that note talking about Jafar?" Alan shouted, his voice cracking with panic.

Joe turned sharply to the nearest officer, his jaw tight.

Joe: "The room we were using—where my team was working. Was anyone there?"

The officer shook his head.

Officer: "No, sir. It was completely empty. Just papers and documents scattered all over."

Joe's brow furrowed.

Joe: "This building is packed with security cameras. Did you check the footage?"

The officer’s expression darkened.

Officer: "The room where all the security camera feeds are monitored was destroyed. Wires ripped out, screens smashed. The guard that was stationed in that room is missing. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing."

Joe: "Shit," Joe muttered under his breath, his frustration barely contained.

Alan stepped forward, his desperation overflowing.

Alan: "Joe, please! You’ve got to help Jafar!"

Rell: "Calm down, Alan," he interjected, his voice firm but measured. "Yelling won’t do anything."

Alan turned on him, his eyes blazing with fury.

Alan: "Shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything! Jafar is my friend! He’s been through it— me and him because of people like you! And now…" His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists, trembling with emotion.

Rell took a step back, clearly unprepared for the outburst. For the first time since anyone had met him, the stoic mask he always wore slipped, and a flicker of genuine hurt crossed his face. It was brief, but unmistakable.

Joe stepped between them, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Joe: "Enough! Both of you!" He fixed Alan with a steady gaze. "Rell’s right—screaming isn’t going to help Jafar. But listen to me, Alan." Joe’s tone softened, resolute but reassuring. "You don’t need to beg. I was going to help him whether you asked or not. He’s part of the team, and we leave our people behind."

Alan’s shoulders sagged, the fire in his eyes dimming as he took a deep, shaky breath.

Alan: "Thank you," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

As Joe worked to calm the growing tension within the group, Mike’s usually composed demeanor faltered. His face grew pale, and a heavy frown etched itself into his features. Lost in thought, he muttered under his breath,

Mike:  “V. Neeves…” His brow furrowed deeper as the name escaped his lips. “That’s not who I think it is, is it?” The unease in his voice was impossible to miss, sending ripples of dread through the group.

Joe glanced up from the note, his expression unreadable but heavy with understanding.

Joe: “Do you know another person named V. Neeves?” he asked, already knowing the answer as he also suspected the same person Mike was thinking of.

Mike exhaled sharply, his fists clenching as he fought to keep his composure.

Mike: “Oh, by all that’s good in this world… why ? Why couldn’t it have been ?” His voice rose slightly, his urgency unmistakable. He turned to Joe, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. “If this really is who I think it is, we need to move . Jafar and Sandra don’t have time for us to hesitate.”

Joe: “I know,” Joe said, his tone calm but firm, slicing through the rising panic. “But don’t lose your cool, Mike. We need clear heads if we’re going to pull this off.”

Mike nodded reluctantly, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his lingering worry. Across from him, Dan studied Mike’s rare display of distress, his own unease growing. Mike was always the calm one, the steady hand that anchored the team. Seeing him shaken like this was unsettling.

Finally, Dan spoke, his voice hesitant but curious.

Dan: “I don’t know if this is a stupid question… but who is V. Neeves?”

The question hung in the air, dragging silence in its wake. Alan and Dan exchanged uncertain glances, their confusion mirrored in their eyes. The others avoided their gaze, their discomfort palpable. It was as if uttering the name would summon something unspeakable.

It was Rell who eventually broke the silence, his voice low and serious.

Rell: “V. Neeves is almost certainly Vince Neeves,” he said, each word deliberate. “He’s an infamous cultist and one of the most dangerous black mages on the continent. He’s on the top ten most wanted list.” Rell hesitated, his expression darkening. “And… he’s rumored to be the leader of the cult.”

(Author note: Turns out that guy that talked to that spider lady in that intermission chapter was actually quite important in this world ????)