Hearing the urgent tone behind the call, Seth quickly replied.
Checking himself, he felt his dressing was appropriate. He quickly left his room and took a flight down the stairs.
Instantly coming face to face with who was calling his name... Uriel.
Glancing at him from the sofa, Uriel informed while flipping a book in his grasp, "There are a few agents asking for you at the door."
Seth nodded to his friend, quickly walking up to the door while his heart raced as he considered reasons why agents could be specifically asking for him.
And there were only two reasons he could think of...
Either a new batch of maxed stats agents had been gathered and were ready for ascension, or...
She was done with her project, and the agents he had ordered to alert him the moment she was free were here.
As this option popped in his head, his heart couldn’t help but race a bit further. Over the course of the past few days, Seth had repeatedly tried visiting the research facility in search of Kylie.
But he had received the same information every time he reached the gates: Kylie, her grandfather, and some other figures were in seclusion working on a vital project.
Naturally, Seth knew that if he had gotten someone to inform her that he was there, she would have abandoned everything she was occupied with and come to see him.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do that. She was working on a project that would provide massive benefits to the human race and give them an edge during this war.
He couldn’t in good conscience disrupt her work, hence why he put the agents who had escorted him the first time he arrived there, Captain Miguel and his team, in charge of watching out for her routine.
If she was done or was on a break, they were to inform him first thing.
Opening the door, his heart was filled with both nervousness and anticipation, but the figures that were revealed caused disappointment.
An agent clad in black wear, neat sleek hair, with eyes obstructed by black sunglasses.
This attire, this demeanour — Seth instantly recognized the agent’s division with a glance.
After his frequent interaction with both the military and government agents, Seth was now able to discern their divisions by simply observing their uniform and gait.
And this overly alert and tense agent before him definitely wasn’t from the research facility... but he wasn’t from the military either.
This figure was most likely an agent from the division of the Secret Service, under the President’s command.
Meaning both his initial assumptions were wrong. His demeanour going serious, he greeted the agent with a nod.
"To what do I owe the honor?" He inquired.
The agent wasted no time in communicating the purpose of his arrival. "I was sent here by the President. He wishes to speak to you urgently."
Seth’s brows raised, as the agent’s reply prompted his mind to wander for a bit. "Specifically me? Or my team?"
The agent shook his head. "He specifically requested your presence, Seth Duskreaver."
Seth remained silent as the agent gestured to a nearby black SUV. "If you wouldn’t mind, I have prepared a vehicle for you, sir."
But Seth didn’t oblige immediately. Instead, he asked, "When the President made the request, did he use the term urgent?"
The agent nodded with a monotone expression. "Indeed, sir. I was told to inform you to arrive as soon as you can to the Oval Office."
Seth glanced at the SUV behind the agent and shook his head. "If that’s the case, there’s no need for the vehicle."
The agent frowned slightly, but before he could object, Seth turned around, peeking at Uriel who was laying on a sofa. He informed, "Yo buddy, I’ll be taking a trip to the Oval Office. In case Brandon and Elaine start asking about my whereabouts when they are back, inform them for me."
Uriel nodded silently...
Brandon and Elaine had left to go search for elemental ores required for the construction of genetic battle suits. He was supposed to take a trip to the Origin Realm and farm all parts required for construction.
But it seemed depending on how his meeting with the President turned out, that plan would have to be delayed.
Jamming the front door shut, Seth’s frame instantly whisked into the sky. The gust of wind kicked up in his wake flinging the agent backwards uncontrollably.
And that was after Seth actively suppressed the shockwave generated by his ascent.
Seth’s frame zipped across the horizon, swinging through the sea of clouds, and within seconds he had arrived before the White House.
This time there wasn’t a fierce reaction like the last time he visited the Pentagon.
The defense system had long stored his aura into the database so it could be recognized in a blink.
So his arrival didn’t prompt any reaction from laser cannons or the fierce armor-piercing turrets.
Alighting as gently as he could, the agents already in wait — though slightly surprised by his arrival method — quickly walked up to him to escort him to the Oval Office.
Due to his special identity, he wasn’t scanned or halted along the passages, as he skipped through all series of safety protocols.
The government naturally had ways to search through one’s inventory, though it depended on the level of one’s will.
For someone like Seth, trying to scan through his inventory was impossible, and even their spatial disruptor that worked by destabilizing the spatial frequency all around the White House, making accessing inventory impossible, was useless before him.
When it came to individuals of Seth’s prowess, things like these were useless, so the officials didn’t even bother.
With a chime, the elevator doors parted, and Seth was led directly to the door of the Oval Office, after which the agent bade him goodbye with a solemn nod and left.
Their jobs were to escort him. The President wanted to meet with Seth privately, so naturally no official dared linger around.
Letting out a deep breath, the doors of the Oval Office parted open, and he walked in with slow, disciplined steps.
Reaching before the President’s desk, his eyes focused on the robust silhouette of President Cain.
The man silently observed the view through the large windows behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back.
"Greetings, sir... I rushed here as soon as I got word."
The President nodded, and silence remained after, giving Seth the feeling the President was enjoying peace before a fast-approaching storm.
A long, weary sigh rang out from the President’s figure. Still not turning around, the man’s voice rang bold, charismatic, and almost vulnerable: "Can I trust you, Seth Duskreaver?"
Seth was instantly caught off guard by the question... Trust? What did he mean by trust?