Introspection

Chapter 7 - Simulation

Rouge hadn't spared any expense dressing the main floor to mimic the high-profile security summits they'd attended in the past. The setup was convincing: booths, lounge areas, a hum of synthetic professionalism, but the decorative pink and purple lighting was a personal touch that had her signature all over it. Shadow's gaze flicked to the diamond-shaped ornaments strung between the displays as a sinking feeling settled in his gut. The invoice for this was going to land on his desk eventually, and he was sure it would hit harder than a spin dash. When he turned to Rouge, the knowing smirk on her face only confirmed his realization. His eye twitched involuntarily, but before he could voice his protests, she blew him a playful kiss before taking to the sky with a near-silent beat of her wings.

Shadow let the chaos energy crackle in his fingertips as he watched her land gracefully on the second floor which was accessible through the lofted ceiling. The "Mission Control deck" had a handful of cadets buzzing around while they set up their equipment. He recognized a few of them immediately, Jean, the walrus from Squad Yellow; Reida, the secretary bird from Squad White; and Gunner, the ferret from Squad Green. They were to be the Operators. The ones handpicked by Rouge based on their marks the day before, and they were to guide their teams to success.

His gaze lingered on Gunner, Amy's teammate, and the acknowledgment of that made a weird knot build in Shadow's stomach. Rolling his shoulders, he adjusted the strap of the leather satchel across his chest in an attempt to dislodge the thought. It wasn't long after that his attention was drawn to a neon sign, glowing in bright buzzing letters above a café and bar on the western side of the building. Another coffee suddenly didn't sound like a bad idea. He strode toward the entrance, noting a few other agents mingling at the cafés threshold; they must have had the same idea. The cadets were still nowhere in sight, likely deep in the planning stages of their approaches, which gave him a rare window of downtime.

As he reached the bar, Shadow exchanged curt nods with a few familiar faces, waving off those who greeted him with a formal salute or the habitual "Commander." That title had no place here. Not today. Stepping up to the bar, he justified that there was no need for him to take up an entire table, and then ordered an espresso. The other agents took the queue, their roles as G.U.N. operatives dissolving as they settled into their assumed identities. Like melting snow sloughing off a tree branch, the tension eased from their postures as casual conversation started oscillating throughout the groups in the room. Even Shadow found himself floating through a few discussions and though his responses were brief, he wouldn't deny the relief that came from the informality of it all.

By the time he was halfway through his second shot, the cafe had filled with both cadets and agents, drifting in and out between scheduled events. Rouge had structured the simulation with remarkable detail, panels covered topics ranging from factory planning to weapons development, lounge areas offered small interactive activities, and the bar ran designated "happy hours" during scheduled breaks. Shadow had to give credit where it was due. Rouge had crafted something seamless; everyone, cadets included, were fully immersed. Moreover, he noticed that whatever details she'd given the cadets resulted in them wearing different attire from their uniforms. Some Mobians opted for business casual, while others, like Shadow, preferred a minimalist approach. A sharp pair of gloves, polished shoes, and a few subtle accessories were enough. It was remarkable how the absence of G.U.N. uniforms transformed them. Stripped of rank and regulation, they almost looked like strangers. Almost.

Between idle sips of his drink, he found himself scanning the crowd, as the morning progressed a few of the cadets started closing in on their assigned targets. As far as he could tell, 4 of the teams had started consistently engaging with their marks. He relaxed against the bar, attention drifting until something familiar caught his eye. Cherry blossom quills rising from one of the lounge chairs near the back of the cafe. Amy. She smiled at the black bear agent, who was currently sporting a suit jacket, seated across from her.