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January 10, 2022

Time: 1:30 PM


Brandon stepped out of the warm taxicab into the cold New York Winter and took in a deep breath. The man was unemployed once again as construction jobs had dried up as the temperature dropped. Snow fell gently around him as he pulled the collar up on the warm black coat he was wearing as he stood outside the ARMA building. He was told it was the former Federal Reserve building, not that he knew anything really about that. For a moment he stood there admiring the old grey brick structure. He gazed up at the tall arched blackened windows loomed far above his head as he gazed upwards. The building was a fortress. Rumors about the magic that guarded it and how members would hunt for and take magical artifacts from their owners.


What brought him there was his brooch, oddly enough, a magical item that he feared they might want to take from him, and the paper in which it was folded. Something had happened while examining it that really threw his mind for a loop and he needed answers. There was something else, something that perhaps was even more important, the prospect of a Job.


The Sandy-haired man had polished his resume hoping that perhaps they would find his skills useful, even if he was a novice. Having graduated at Harvard was no small achievement but landing that first job in his field had proved to be elusive. His inexperience, lack of memory regarding his past and perhaps the fact that he had a gift other human didn’t could all have plaid a factor, course he now knew he wasn’t.


Finding out he was an Offworlder was a shock. He had always believed what had been assumed about him that he had been changed into what he was now rather than just being displaced from where he had been. What was even odder is that it had all been planned. Brandon’s parents had carefully crafted his escape feeling that a strange new world and the loss of all his previous memories would be better for him than the prison he had been placed in. The sacrifice that it entailed for his parents was beyond his comprehension, the desperation that would drive them to forever be separated from a son they loved rather than see him unfairly and wrongfully treated.


Walking into the publically available area of the first floor he gazed up at the painted arch ceiling that gave it a look that reminded Brandon of a cathedral. For a while, he pretended to be just another curious visitor among the tourists. He had noticed the guards, the magus that kept the visitors from venturing too far into the facility and how they kept an eye on everyone, especially him, or was that something he was imagining. 


“I hope Alec is in,” he said softly to himself as he gathered the courage to approach the large reception area.


Alec Walker was the only ARMA person he knew and for the moment trusted. He knew more about his little treasure than anyone and perhaps his finding could help in some way. Even with the prospect of finding the man he met at the book store the other matter, that of getting placed in a position where he might be able to do some good lurked in the back of his mind.


He flashed a nervous smile as he approached a blonde haired receptionist that seemed to be the friendliest of those working the desk, "Hello, my name is Brandon Valosa." He breathed and then continued, "do you know if Alec Walker is in?" 


The woman smiled and shook her head, "I'm sorry sir I don't believe Mr. Walker is expecting you."


"No, I'm sure he's not," Brandon replied, "I just need to talk to him, it's, it's important."








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