UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE
INTERNAL CLASSIFIED BRIEFING
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FILE: OTA-001-A
DATE: 03-21-1960
CLEARANCE LEVEL: Black Vault Access
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Subject: Establishment of the Organization of Temporal Anomalies
Mission Directives:
Detect and track extra-linear disturbances across allied zones and continents.
Secure, neutralize, or harness anomalous entities and time-based phenomena (codename: KAIRON) with minimal civilian exposure.
Maintain continuity of the primary timeline (designated "Timeline Alpha-0") using force, subterfuge, or time-loop intervention if necessary.
Establish protocols for agent recruitment, training, and deployment.
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⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ / ⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ / ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛ ⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛
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"Clancy, c'mon. Just relax, man. You can stay at my place however long you want."
Clancy looks up from his chair, one hand on his beer, the other hand pointing a finger at his best friend Aram.
"You might be fine with it, but I sure as hell am not. I mean, it's been 6 months."
Aram sighed. He lifted his soju and took a swig.
"I mean the current job climate is horrible, man. It's not easy for anyone to get a job. Even I'm struggling."
"Struggling cuz your dad cut your allowance from 20k a month to 10k?"
"Hey I'll have you know that I've had to ration my diamond encrusted face cream this month. We're all making sacrifices."
Clancy rolled his eyes.
He and Aram had been friends since freshman year of college. Ever since they graduated half a year ago, Clancy has been staying at Aram's penthouse. Clancy didn't have any parents. He had been alone since he was 18, when his father disappeared without notice. After that, he basically had to fend for himself. If Aram's parents, who were wealthy conglomerate businessmen, hadn't taken Clancy in, he might've been left with no place to stay. Which is why he felt so much worse about not being able to pay them back the kindness they had shown to him.
Clancy sat up. He rubbed his eyes and made an observation about himself. 6'1", 175lbs. His hair was a disheveled dirty red. His striking green eyes were weirdly outshined by his dark eye bags, brought on by sleepless nights of sending in job applications and rage quitting video games because he was jobless. In extremely stark contrast was Aram. 6'3, dark olive skinned and jet black hair. He looked like a young indian celebrity that happened to take in a homeless ginger man.
The only upsides to Clancy was his toned physique. Ever since Clancy was young he was trained by his father in all sorts of martial arts. He had no idea what his dad's job was, despite asking several times over the course of his youth. All he knew was that it must've been extremely physical and combative. Clancy's biggest theory was that his father was in the FBI. It would certainly explain the disappearance. Maybe he had been hiding in a super secret mission. Or maybe his dad wasn't even his dad. Just a weird guy that liked training children into elite martial artists. The thing was, Clancy wasn't just skilled. He was elite. Although he couldn't land a job, Clancy supported himself and paid back Aram sometimes by fighting in underground fighting rings. He had never lost before, except to his father, when he was still around. From ages 3-5 he trained in gymnastics, making him extremely flexible and agile. At age 6 he learned judo. At 7, boxing. At 8, brazilian jiu jitsu. By the time his father disappeared when Clancy was 18, he had mastered 19 different martial arts, along with being an expert marksman.
Despite being raised as a possible incarnation of John Wick, he chose to study English in college, which as it turns out, was a very unhelpful major in the job market. After 6 months of no offers, he had decided to come to a bar with Aram in order to drown his inability to work with alcohol.
Aram looked at Clancy.
"Alright, listen. No more moping around. Tomorrow, I'm gonna set you up with at my parents' company."
"Nononono. Listen. I already said no handouts. It's already gracious enough that I don't pay rent, but now you're gonna hand me a job? No. I want to get a job based on my own merit."
Aram raised his hand in exasperation.
"It's not a hand out for crying out-!"
Aram's raised hands accidentally knock a drink out of a man walking near their table.
"WATCH IT!"
Aram looks at the man and his face immediately turns bright red.
"I'm so sorry sir, I didn't mean it. It was an accident."
He immediately gets out of his seat and grabs napkins to clean up the mess he caused.
The man spits on Aram, who is bent down wiping the floor.
"Pathetic little brown boy can't watch where your hands are huh."
Clancy glares at the man.
"He apologized, you big ogre. No need to take it further."
The man looks up at Clancy and smiles.
"BIg words coming from a little leprechaun."
The man's muscles nearly bulging out of his tank top. He seems to be some sort of body builder or powerlifter. Whoever he was, he was built like a literal mountain. But Clancy wasn't afraid. He also didn't feel like backing down. He wanted to let loose a little after all the things he had been through the past few months. He rose from his chair and faced the towering figure.
"Is racism the only form of communication you use or is the amount of words you're allowed to use limited to the few strands of hair left on your head?
The man was stunned for a few seconds. He was, after all, extremely sensitive about his balding head. He took very great pride in the few strands he had left, as the more steroid usage he underwent the more hair he lost. No one had ever insulted him about it before, for fear of their heads being torn off. But it seemed this little man before him didn't care about his limbs being torn off.
"RAHHHH!"
In a fit of rage, the man lunged at Clancy. Clancy calmly dodged to the side. The man than began swinging at Clancy. But for Clancy, who had been raised at a young age for all forms of combat, the irrationality and mindless hooks the man threw at Clancy only seemed to make him laugh.
After 15 seconds of mindless rampaging and tearing up the little pub they were at, the balding man seemed to regain his senses, and unfortunately for Clancy, he did seem to know a few more words.
The man grunted at a few people at another table.
"BOYS! TEAR THIS REDHEAD LIMB FROM LIMB!"
It seemed that the almost hairless man had friends, and they all seemed to be as large as he was. They all got up from their seats and began running towards Clancy.
"Ah shi-."
Before Clancy could finish, he was rammed through the window of the pub by one of the man's henchmen.
CRASH!
Clancy landed painfully on the pavement, clutching his chest. It felt like all the airs in his lungs had been knocked out. But he had no time to recover. He noticed the large man and his posse of ogres walking over to him.
'Holy crap, that guy threw me like 20 feet.'
Either the man that tossed him like a ragdoll was extremely strong or Clancy had a huge poop two hours earlier. He leaned towards the latter in order to save some face.
Clancy slowly stood up. Before he could stand up straight one of the men threw a punch at him. Clancy dodged, shifted his weight and rammed his fist in between the assailant's 8-9th rib, targeting his liver. This immediately made the man buckle and heave, but Clancy didn't stop there. He grabbed the man by the back of the head and jabbed his throat, causing him to collapse in pain, clutching his neck.
Clancy quickly scanned his surroundings. There were 4 men total still standing, including the man in dire need of a toupe. One of the men had the face of a rhino, which made sense as he charged straight at Clancy. Clancy immediately leaped over the rhino man and landed on the shoulders of one of the bodybuilders, wrapping his legs between the man's shoulders and his right arm and cracks the man's arm in a flying triangle. The man immediately exclaims in pain and clutches his arm. The original bald man runs to Clancy, picking him up off the ground and throws a punch towards his stomach. Although Clancy braces himself, the punch still knocks the wind out of him.
'Ribs might've fractured.'
The thing is, Clancy isn't afraid to fight. He's also not afraid to fight multiple people. But his current circumstances were extremely unfavorable. He had incapacitated two people, leaving around 3 people left. But he wasn't in the best fighting shape. He was tired, drunk, thrown threw a window, with ribs fractured. Clancy clutched his stomach, heaving and trying to regain some air. He began racing through ways to escape. He knew Aram had probably left already. Whenever he used to defend and fight off Aram's bullies in college, he always told him to run so he could take care of the fight. He preferred fighting alone instead of protecting someone. Before he could finish his thoughts, the balding man reached into his back pocket and took out a knife. He grinned and stared at Clancy.
"After I kill you, I'm gonna go gut your little brown friend."
Clancy's thoughts were grim. He could only hope that the bartender in the pub had called the cops. Just as he was thinking about how to run, a voice broke out.
"Hey , why don't you leave the kid alone? I think he's dealt with enough considering all his friend did was spill a drink on you."
Both fighting parties turned their heads at the voice. It belonged to a middle aged man, likely in his 40s, Gray peppered hair, with blue rimmed glasses, in a jet black suit. He had a gold pin on his lapel and he was carrying a suitcase and an umbrella.
"Go on, get outta here. Or is your fragile so weak that a spilled drink is enough for you to kill a man?"
The man holding the knife looked at the gray haired individual and sneered.
"You wanna die first, old man?"
The old man silently stared back. And then he disappeared. Blink. The men and Clancy were stunned. The place where he was just standing was now empty. No movement, no sound except for a small 'whoosh'. One of the grunts spoke.
"Wh-where did that guy go?"
>Shing!<
"First off, I don't like being called old."
The man had appeared behind the leader of the goons, holding his umbrella to the man's neck. The leader immediately turned around and swung his knife at the middle aged man, hoping to slash his stomach. Instead, he simply leaned back, grabbed the leader's wrist, applied pressure and broke the leader's fingers. He immediately screamed in pain
"RAGHHGHGHHHH!
The two other goons, including the rhino man from earlier charged at the man. He swiftly took the knife off the ground and threw it their shoulders and rammed his foot into the knife causing it to jam deeper into the man's body. At the same time, he swung his umbrella and smashed the rhino man's face into the ground.
'Holy crap.'
This was the only thing Clancy could think. This guy was pretty damn good. Clancy likely could have beaten the men and escaped, but it would have been a lot uglier and much more rough. The man before him had taken down three people extremely efficiently. He walked over to Clancy and offered his hand. Clancy acknowledged and pulled himself up.
"Thank you sir. I don't know how to thank you."
"Ah, don't worry about it Clancy."
Clancy stopped himself. The man had said things earlier that made it seem as though he was observing him,even in the bar. He wondered if this man was looking to him for something.
"How do you know my name?"
The man smiled.
"I know everything about you."
Clancy furrowed his eyebrows.
"Uh, listen I appreciate the save but I'm not into men, and you're also a little too-."
"Let me stop you right there. I'm not hitting on you. No, I'm offering you a job."
Clancy raised his eyebrow.
"A job?"
"Indeed. Here's my card. 0900 hours, this Sunday. Be dressed appropriately."
The man handed the card to Clancy. On it was just a simple address. Clancy looked up at the man walking away.
"What makes you think I want a job right now?"
The man stopped. He turned around and looked right at Clancy.
"Cuz the job you're going to be applying for was your father's, Clancy. Welcome to the OTA."
Clancy flipped the card over. On the back of the card were words written in a large black font:
Organization of Temporal Anomalies