You found a hard cover leather journal that looks like it belonged to a traveler in their days of adventuring, on the cover there is a depiction of an eye. Upon opening the book you see that it is written in what you identify as a mix of ancient Greek and Norwegian. But, with a sickening whirl the text shifts as if you were dyslexic. Suddenly it is in a language that you cannot identify but you seem able to understand it.
Hello Wanderer, I was told to inform anyone who reads this that it is written by me. I am Argus, adventurer and researcher extraordinaire. I search these several worlds for what the Foundation would call anomalous entities or things. I capture, research and release. Though not as brutishly as those at the Foundation. I then use my research to attempt to better humanity. I work with inventors you see and I create what would be seen as beneficial anomalies through the use of magic, technology, and anomaly. That is what we at Scientific Innovations Fictitiously Invented (S.i.F.i) do.
But that is enough about my work this story is about me. I was informed by the librarians here that there appears to be no documentation on my life. This is particularly strange because I have lived such a long one. So, they tasked me with the writing of books that outline the different parts of my life that may have had a greater effect on history amongst the different timelines and realities that I have been a part of.
I will not be starting at the beginning though. Rather I will be starting where my life restarted so to speak. It all happened around the mid/early two-thousands, years are difficult to keep track of when you are as old as me. The Foundation had stumbled across one of my family's prosperities, namely a tree in the middle of the Moabi desert south east of what is now known as "Death Valley." I was allowed personal hours by Executive to go
and investigate.
The tree has belonged to my family for generations. Starting with my great-grandfather near the beginning of time and fell into my hands about for thousand years ago with the death of my father. I, in fact, was instructed to drink from its nectars three times as was apparently tradition. First this gave me my deep understanding of magic. Next was the ability to conjure swords into existence with but a thought. Last was the ability to turn my arms into magic cannons much like the modern Samus or Mega-man. I will note that none of these gave me my eyes. That was a gift of my bloodline.
note
It took me two days to make it to the established Foundation sight. When I arrived it was in ruins by what looked like a ballistic bombardment. Thankfully this made it easy to sneak in and leave this note on the family tree.
On my way out of the site I stumbled upon the supposed offender of the foundation sight. I quickly racked through files on my Internal-Info-LinkTM. Apparently she was known as D-77777 by the Foundation or Monica "Sevens" Pingston by more affectionate acquaintances. I approached her while she sat on the side of the road trying to light a cigarette with a butane welding torch. I flicked open my lighter and offered it to her. This was not the best idea I notice now but I was trying to be cool. Regardless she instantly materialized a Glock nineteen in her free hand and burred the barrel in my chin.
"If you're here to send me back then go to hell!" She grumbled.
I flicked the lighter back into my jacket, "That's not why I'm here. Please put the gun down." I will admit to putting magic in these words but you would too.
"Who the fuck are you then?" She asked, lowering the gun just a bit. I slowly drew a business card out of my suit.
"Names Argus," I said. "C.F.O. and C.S.O. of S.i.F.i. We are currently looking for new employees. Do you want a job where no one cares where you came from and no one sees your abilities as terrifying or dangerous? Trust me I have read about the timeline that you can create. Most of humanity sufferers by your hand. This is a preferable option. Here you wont be hunted, dissected, or trapped but rather free to adventure and find new things in this beautiful world."
She then lowered the gun and it vanished, "I'll try it but don't be alarmed if I'm just gone one day."
"Thank heavens," I sighed. "And thank you for your, er, explosive exit. It allowed me to get these." I held up three vials of the blue-green liquid that the tree produced.
"Here try this one," I said. "The first dose is always not chosen. The others however comply to the thoughts of the consumer."
"You want me to take more of that?"
"Nothing bad will happen. Trust me I've done it myself. Try thinking about luck while doing it."
Reluctantly, she took the vial and drained it. I proceeded to pull out a deck of cards and started shuffling. When she was done I handed her the deck.
"Pull every ace out of that deck."
She did. She somehow knew where every ace was in the deck.
"Perfect, now sign this and we have a job to do." I handed her the standard strike team contract for S.i.F.i. and a pen. She signed and I handed her an External Info-LinkTM. and showed her where we were raiding.
"A Foundation facility?" She asked.
"Yup, gotta break out a couple friends."
Foundation Site ?
We were both perched in nearby trees looking through the woods at the site. We had both died our hair with the new Anti-memetic hair dye. and were getting ready to storm the complex.