Advanced Multiverse Navigation Protocol

Rose.

Rose.

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R̉͌̎̚o̓̓̽̔̐̍ͩ͒̄s͛ͧe͂ͩ

R̊̏̽̊͘o͆̄ͣ̀ͤ̑s̀ͤ̔͐ͣ̅e̍̓. R̊̏̽̊͘o͆̄ͣ̀ͤ̑s̀ͤ̔͐ͣ̅e̍̓

R̷̗̺̊̄ͩͮͯ̀͜o̧̮̲̤̜̰̐ͨ̓͂͆͐͜s̵̯̼͇ͬ̑̽́̃̒ͣ͢͠e̵̙̙̟̠̍͋̇ͤ͂͟. R̷̗̺̊̄ͩͮͯ̀͜o̧̮̲̤̜̰̐ͨ̓͂͆͐͜s̵̯̼͇ͬ̑̽́̃̒ͣ͢͠e̵̙̙̟̠̍͋̇ͤ͂͟. R̷̗̺̊̄ͩͮͯ̀͜o̧̮̲̤̜̰̐ͨ̓͂͆͐͜s̵̯̼͇ͬ̑̽́̃̒ͣ͢͠e̵̙̙̟̠̍͋̇ͤ͂͟

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R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘. R̵̨͔͍͍̫̈ͬ͂͗ͮ̑̌͂̊ͧ̽̕͢ͅǫ̵̛͍̞͓̺͉̝̮͔͆̔͋ͤ̿͆͛͊̃̅ͭ͗̋́̈̀̆̕ŝ̸̴̖͈̜͔̲̬̎̎ͨ̔̂̇̉ͥ̇̐̈́͐ͫ͆̾̚ę͍̘̩̺͈̣̟̘̞̭̯͕̹̭͉̈́ͪ͛̚̕͘

D̡͠o̴̢ ͟͝y͟oư ̀͡l̶̀o̷͏v̵̕e͘͟͟ ́m̶̴͟é̴,̛ ̸R̵̶̛ó̢s̸e̷҉?̢͡ ̀D̢͜ó̢͜ ͏y͟o̢͢͜u̶͘ ̨̧́h̶ą̕te̵̶ ̴̶m͘͝è̕͡?͏͢ ̧D͟o̷ ̡͜y̸̛̕ó̡ų ͏wąn̡t̴̴̕m̷̷̡e͟? ́͘͡Do̡ yo̕u͏͝ ͟w̶͢a̶͟n͢t̨͏ ̨tơ ̨f͠e̵el҉͞ ̴w̶͟͠a̧nt̢è͡ḑ?̕͜ ̶͟Dó͜ ͟Ý̴Ớ̛U̕ ̢͢͟n̵̷͘e͏ę͝d̛ ̢̕͜m̷͜͏e?̀̀

"What a sick and twisted man. Just a hollow shell of what he used to be. Such a shame." The investigator couldn't help sighing, lamenting the fact of losing another accomplished detective.

"Should we pull his plug, Daniel?" Daniel turned to look his colleague, Collins, and couldn't help wincing at the sight. Frankly, Collins looked like a f.u.c.k.i.n.g freak. His entire body was damaged from third-degree burns, creating the image of a person who looked more like a corpse than a living, breathing human. But he is still breathing, alright.

Collins is one tough son of a bitch, and truthfully, he might be unkillable. His eyes were left undamaged, so his vision hadn't been impaired in the slightest, and those green globes were filled with hope, not hatred or disgust; hope. He never was the resentful type and would always be ready to forgive someone as long as that 'someone' owned up to their own mistakes. He was, of course, bald, his hair having been turned to ash by the intense heat, which is why he always wore a fancy, purple top-hat. Collins was also getting up there in age, so he used a cane to move around, but don't let that innocent, metallic cylinder fool you. That right there is an SSS-rated Quinque created from the son of bitch that grilled him; Lightning.

Lightning was an American ghoul with an ukaku kagune and pyrokinesis, who had been officially ranked SS but was later promoted to the SSS-rank after defeating, and killing, a Special Class Investigator, two Associate Class Investigators and five First-Class Investigators, without sustaining any significant injuries, meaning damage, that wouldn't take longer than a few hours to heal. But, like every other ghoul that grows too powerful, it got c.o.c.ky. The monster tried attacking a branch office in Washington DC, which ended up being its biggest and final mistake in its freakish life. We didn't leave it any chance of survival, sending four Special Class Investigators, eight Associate Investigators, and eighteen First Class Investigators to take it down. And down it went.

Its troublesome pyrokinesis was neutralized with multiple quinque made from a material that shares some of the same properties of nitrogen chloride, and it was attacked by an immense group of, well trained, coordinated investigators, keeping it on its toes, and ready to capitalize on any mistakes it made. The fight didn't last long, clocking out at around five minutes, but in those last thirty seconds or so, something was about to go horribly wrong, especially for Collins, one of the Special Class Investigators, who happened to be on the scene. The freak of nature could self-destruct by manipulating its pyrokinesis, performing this exact action in a blind and maddened rage, determined to take some of the investigators down with it. He would have been successful if not for, you guessed it, Collins. That crazy son of a bitch charged the horrible creature and encased the epicenter of the explosion with the pseudo-kagune installed on his quinque armor. Everyone else came out unscathed, but Collins' body had been completely smoked. But his eyes were saved due to him concentrating more on protecting his head and eyeballs than the rest of his body.

"Special Class Investigator Collins, shouldn't that ultimately depend on your decision? You're my wise senior and superior, it's simply unthinkable for me to make this ruling on my own accord!" Daniel was trying to show the legendary man respect, but he just shrugged his reminder off and said, "kid, when you get to my age, you'll learn that being so stiff and formal is damaging to your health. So, forget all that seniority bullshit and call the shots, unless you can't do it without Grandpa Collin's input."

'It's weird getting used to his laid-back attitude and easygoing personality.' Daniel was trained at an American CCG academy in California; Violet Garden. That place taught them one very important thing; respect. Students would be severely punished for showing disobedience and displaying unruly behavior (it was 'conveniently' only vaguely described what is classed as 'unruly behavior'). In fact, it wasn't uncommon for a student to be sent to the emergency room because they couldn't keep their foolish mouth shut. One time, Daniel witnessed a student, Cobra, stand up to a teacher and criticize the woman's way of lecturing her students. She broke seven of his ribs, blinded one of his eyes permanently, punctured a kidney, broke a leg and an arm, and… No, that was thankfully all of it. Jesus, Lady. Calm down.

Was she punished or held accountable for her actions? Not in the slightest. To tell the truth, she was rewarded for her 'exemplary' way of upkeeping the discipline on school grounds and was rewarded with a five-week vacation. Yikes, what a messed-up school, but it did mold Daniel into the person he is today, a First-Class Investigator at the ripe age of 18. Quite impressive and inspiring for the rest of the American CCG members.

Daniel went to the cell's glass wall and knocked on it, thrice. No response. He repeated the action. Again, no response. He repeate— "Tskk, I shouldn't bother." He did not knock again, but still tried a different approach to things; talking.

"Hey, Associative Special Investigator Brian Fitch, could you perchance regain your sanity, because that would make this investigation exponentially easier and more manageable. No? Fine, have it your way." He walked away from the glass wall and walked over to Collins. Brian held out his hand and said, "can I have the key card to the cell, Special Class Investigator Collins?" Collins threw the key card on the ground and said, "ops. Looks like age has started corroding my brain." He knew why he did it but was still fairly irritating. 'Chill. Don't be so formal. Be more easygoing. Bunch of hippie garbage.' Collins liked to tease him when he was being 'too official'.

Brian growled and picked up the gray, electronic keycard, and Collins chuckled at this, enjoying his suffering. Okay, that might have been a strong word to use in this context. His; NOT FINDING THIS TOO COMFORTABLE. There, much better.

The titanium doors opened with a beep, and Daniel made sure that his quinque, Queen, was easily accessible, ready to be employed in combat. The first steps were easy, and nothing was inherently wrong. Just a normal First-Class Investigator walking towards a previous coworker that has become utterly insane and functionally schizophrenic, to investigate said coworker to answer these two crucial questions; how? And, who? Simple really.

"Shit." Brian Fitch charged at him with a crazy and maniacal smile smeared across his face. Daniel evaded to the left and sent a right hook into the disturbed investigator's gut, sending him flying to the opposite end of the room, hitting the wall with enough force to leave a spiderweb of cracks. Daniel cracked his neck and entered a defensive stance, awaiting the counterattack. 'He might be unarmed and crazy, but he's still an Associative Special Class Investigator, one mistake could very well claim my life.'

Daniel quickly revealed his quinque, Queen, which was a zwei-hander with the monstrous length of 3.2 meters and a width of 0.7 meters. The blade was marbling white with red depressions that looked like veins running alongside the blade's sides, and they appeared to pulsate like a heartbeat, giving the impression of the sword being organic and alive. The sword guard, pommel and hilt were all completely pitch black and seemed to capture and imprison all the light inside the cell. The sword's rating is unknown since it has been proven to get stronger the more it's used in battle, although this is temporary empowerment. If the sword is laid to rest after a battle, it will eventually be completely depleted of the extra gained power, which makes it a wild card in battle, and is therefore difficult to rank after normal standards.

Brian pulled himself out of the wall and charged again, albeit much faster this time and more recklessly. Daniel evaded to the right this time and immediately followed up with a block, a loud crack sounding out from where the almost zombie-Esque investigator hit Queen's surface. He didn't yell out in agony but continued his relentless assault, actually accelerating in speed, but this let to slobbier and more unfocused fist placements.

Eventually, Daniel grew tired of his games, took the blunt side of his sword, and slammed all of its weight on to the demented investigator's back, creating a giant crater in the middle of the cell. But it doesn't end up killing him, barely.

"Pathetic." The disgust on Daniel's face was clear. Obviously, he had unrightfully been more cautious than necessary, and it soured his mood to see the investigator lose in such a swift and pitiful manner.

"Goddammit, you're bleeding my wallet here. You know it's the highest-ranked senior that has to pay for property damages, right? What a f.u.c.k.i.n.g absurd and irrational rule." Collins could be seen on the ground, hitting it with enough force to make the room shake a bit, but doing it with finesse and technique as to not crack the beautiful white and black checkered floor tiles.

"Stop crying, Collins. I'll pay." He shamelessly got back up again with a wide smile, which looked immensely horrifying on his charred face. Daniel didn't comment on it, already used to his mentor's antics, and turned back to the unconscious body of Associative Special Investigator Brian Fitch.

Collins also entered the cell, and the mentor and disciple started to stare at the lifeless form of Bryan in contemplation.

"Ehh, Kid. You sure you didn't kill him? Cause, he's not moving, and I can't hear him breathing." He was alive, and Collins knew that he was just trying to lighten the mood, and his attempt did, in fact, make a small smile appear on Daniel's face, if only briefly. Daniel turned around to look at his mentor and performed a gesture towards Brian. "Collins, should we just try torturing him for answers or will that break his mind even further? You saw the way he fought, he's acting more like a ghoul than human at this point, which is frankly revolting and unsettling, and just shows how ruined his mind has essentially become."

The old investigator took out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it and put up to his mouth, taking a few puffs. Ironically, having everything except his eyes burned didn't make smoking any less enticing to the man. Weird how that works.

"No, he won't talk no matter how we torture him. His mental aptitude has gone down the drain to the sewers where those filthy ghouls live, and we would be hard-pressed to gain anything useful from him. Kill him."

Daniel did not hesitate and cut his head off, which did not roll or anything of the sort since it was still embedded in the ground with the rest of the recently deceased body (very recently).

"Buuuut, we do know one thing now."

Daniel turned to look at his mentor, focused on hearing him finish his sentence.

"An individual by the name of 'Rose' is related to all of this. And I'm putting my money on that this 'Rose', is the despicable ghoul, which we've been looking for."

"I agree." Daniel had already started to suspect this and entertain that very same theory ever since he heard the frantic repetition of the name 'Rose'. Which, the deranged detective also kept repeating while they fought (more like a one-sided slaughter).

"Well, I'm going to go outside and finish this smoke. See you around, Daniel." Collins did a lazy and just walked off, completely disregarding who the duty of cleaning up the dead body of their previous colleague might befall.

Daniel looked towards the dead body and cursed. It would seem, HE, had to take care of the dead body. F.u.c.k.