Grimoires and Gunsmoke

Toivonen was the very definition of overworked as she sat in her chair, surrounded by a sea of papers, blinking monitors displaying an innumerable number of emails, and her incessantly vibrating phone indicating yet another incoming call.

The sensory overload was almost unbearable, and she let out a groan of frustration before snatching the incessant device and seeing it was one of her aides. “What!? What is now!?” she barked into the receiver while her free hand massaged her temples.

But as the aide continued their report, Toivonen’s scowl shifted from one of annoyance to outright pain. She smothered her face with her free hand, trying to contain the frustration that threatened to boil over. "Yes, yes, yes! I understand the offensive is imminent," she ground out through gritted teeth. "But we’re still working on getting assets into play!"

There was a pause as the voice on the other end of the line spoke, and Toivonen's eyes rolled back in exasperation. She let out an exaggerated "Ugh!" before yanking the tie that held her hair in place, allowing her dark locks to cascade down her shoulders. "Well, they need to wait!" she snapped, her patience wearing thinner by the second. "We don't know what we're facing on the other side of the rift besides what the POWs and cooperating informants have told us, and their perspectives are so skewed that they might as well be useless!"

Toivonen swiveled in her chair, facing the stack of reports piled high on her desk. With a grumble, she started opening folders and tossing them aside one by one, her eyes scanning the pages with growing frustration.

Ever since Yzael's meetings with the engineers and scientists, leadership has been obsessed with this counter-offensive. “Greedy fucks…” she muttered to herself with a tone dripping with disdain. "Find a few new resources and all of sudden, everyone’s full of fucking bloodlust."

The voice on the phone continued to speak, and Toivonen threw her hands up in a gesture of utter exasperation. She let them fall, slapping her leg in the process. "Well, my paramilitary officers have only managed to make headway with the local peasantry!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with each word. "What am I supposed to do with a bunch of farmers!? Start a goddamn pitchfork uprising that'll get torched by one of those flying dinosaurs!?"

She leaned back in her chair, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. "If we go in now, we'll essentially be going in deaf, dumb, and blind!” She barked into the phone. “We need to understand at least what the enemy is capable of and get a grasp on their overall strategy! We don't even have a faint idea of what their force structure is!"

Toivonen's free hand rubbed at her eyes, trying to ease the pressure that was starting to build up in her head. She was tired, frustrated, and more than a little bit scared. She juggled so many projects with so much at stake that she experienced sensory overload every waking moment. To top it all off, the entire world was on the precipice of something so monumental it would change human history forever.

And yet, the idiots in Congress wanted to stumble forward with barely a clue of what lay ahead.

"Listen," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "I know those fossils in legislator and brass is chomping at the bit to get this show on the road. But rushing in without proper intel, without a solid plan, is incredibly stupid." She straightened in her seat while pointing intently at nothing in particular. "I need more time. We have to get this right, or we're going to have another Iraq or Afghanistan."

The voice on the other end of the line spoke again, causing Toivonen to slap herself in the face. She knew she was asking for the impossible, and she knew that the gears of war were already turning, with or without her blessing. But she still had to delay this push for as long as she could until they could get some semblance of an idea of who they were fighting.

"I don't know, just find a way to stall it!" she screamed, throwing her free hand up in frustrated desperation. "A month! I just need a month, or as close to a month as you can get!"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Toivonen could hear the muffled grumblings of dissent. For a moment, she thought they might actually refuse and that her plea would fall on deaf ears. But then, like a ray of hope piercing through the clouds, she heard the magic words.

"Thank God," she breathed, falling backward into her chair as the aide on the other line yelled obscenities at her. "I know! I know! Thank you for at least try–"

But before she could finish, the line went dead, and the angry huff of her aide was the last thing she heard before the call disconnected. However, Toivonen didn't mind that in the slightest. They could toss her out of the window in anger for all she cared. All that mattered was that someone was going to fight to get her the time she so desperately needed.

A small breath of relief left Toivonen's mouth as she set her phone down and bowed her head in exhaustion. "Christ, have mercy," she muttered weakly.

Everything in the past 6 or 7 months had been overwhelming to a degree that she could have sworn she aged 20 years. By being in the right place at the right time and saying the right thing, Toivonen was promoted to an executive position within the agency.

While her ascension was unusual for someone her age, it was wholly unfeasible or even uncalled for, given the context. Her role in turning Yzael into an asset that would work with the United States, along with her management of an enemy combatant turned operative, propelled her into the limelight. These facts made Toivonen the only reason choice for the position of Chief of Rift Anomalies and Operations.

But with her rapid ascension into power came significant backlash. Tension simmered between her and the other executives in the agency, many of whom questioned her lack of experience and seniority. This scrutiny often placed her in difficult and awkward situations, forcing her to prove her worth constantly. She struggled with the challenges her inexperience brought, sometimes nearly proving her detractors right. However, she always found a way to succeed and even excel, whether through sheer luck or unconventional methods.

Nevertheless, the pressure and stress was talking its toll as Toivonen bent down, slipped off her designer high-heeled stilettos, and tossed them across the room. The woman didn’t even bother to look where she threw them or checkw where they landed as the shoes clattered against the wall.

For five whole minutes, Toivonen just sat there hanging her head, allowing her hair to block out the oppressive, clinical white light above. Those five quiet minutes were a depressing but much needed reprieve from the chaos that constantly surrounded her. But she knew she couldn't afford to stay like this, no matter how badly she wanted to call her boss and tell him she was taking a vacation There was too much at stake and too much work to be done.

With a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul, Toivonen raised herself up and dove back into the fray. She had a mountain of paperwork to get through before heading off to Quantico for yet another damn meeting.

As she reached for the first stack of reports, a particular folder caught her eye. It was from Yzael's quite sizable mountain with each document detailing her involvement with the defense contractors, universities or governmental departments. Toivonen's brow furrowed as she grabbed the Department of Energy document and began scanning.

With each passing paragraph, Toivonen’s eyes started to twitch, and her head started to spin from the incomprehensible ‘nerd’ speech. But she couldn’t deny that whatever they were talking about in this report was one of the man culprits who had whipped the government into a psychotic frenzy.

According to the report, Yzael had been working closely with DOE scientists and engineers, sharing her knowledge of magical principles and helping them integrate these concepts into existing energy frameworks. Mana Crystals, Ley Lines, and Elemental Cores were just a few of the detailed resources, and each one promised a different revolution in energy production and efficiency.

However, the proposed "Advanced Theoretical Frameworks and Practical Implementations for Alternative Energy Generation and Manipulation: Insights Derived from Interdimensional Sources" really caught Toivonen's attention. Grounded in principles of equivalence, consent, and reciprocity, it delved into a framework for harnessing magic by utilizing the principles it seemed to operate by.

As Toivonen delved into the report, her eyes widened unevenly in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. The language was dense, filled with technical jargon and complex equations that supposedly blended the arcane with the scientific.

Not that Toivonen could decipher either if she was honest with herself.

Opening a random page, Toivonen started reading aloud in a hesitant and perplexed voice, thinking that vocalizing the report would give her a modicum of understanding. "The fundamental principle of magical energy manipulation, as demonstrated by the Consultant, revolves around the concept of 'Mana Weaving.' This process involves precisely manipulating previously unobserved ambient particles, which interact with matter and energy to create localized disturbances in the fabric of reality."

Toivonen's brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the words. "Through a series of intricate gestures and specific chanting to enhance mental focus, the practitioner can 'weave' these particles into complex patterns, which then manifest as tangible effects in the physical world. The most basic of these effects, as demonstrated by the Consultant, is the creation of a small, self-sustaining luminous orb, colloquially referred to as a 'Light Spell.'"

She squinted at the page, her eyes straining to follow the complex diagrams and notations accompanying the text. "The creation of this 'Light Spell' involves a three-stage process. First, the practitioner must gather ambient particles into a localized area, creating a higenergy density. This is achieved through a combination of gestures, spoken chants, or deep concentration. Each one conjures a complex series of images in one's mind’s eye."

"Next," she continued, her voice growing more strained, "the practitioner must use their mind's eye to 'shape' this gathered energy into a stable form. This is done by visualizing, in great detail, the desired outcome (in this case, a luminous orb) and using further gestures to help stabilize and mold the mana particles into that shape. The final stage involves 'activating' the shaped mana, which is achieved through a specific mental command and a small influx of the practitioner's own bodily energy reserves."

At this point, Toivonen couldn't take it anymore. She stopped reading and threw her hands up in exasperation. "God damn nerds," she muttered, tossing the report aside. She reached for the next folder on her desk, hoping for something more comprehensible. But as she flipped it open, she was greeted by a similar wall of jargon and complex diagrams.

"Department of Agriculture," she read aloud in an unamused and flat tone. "Potential Applications of Alien Flora in Crop Enhancement and Pest Control."

With a groan, she tossed that one aside as well. The next folder was from the Department of Health, detailing the possible medical uses of magical herbs and potions. Then came reports from the Department of Defense, the Environmental Protection Agency, and even the Federal Aviation Administration.

Toivonen stopped a third way through the stack of documents and piled it back onto her desk. The exhausted woman couldn’t help but glare at the reports. The sheer scope and potential impact of these discoveries were staggering, and it was no surprise that every corner of the government was clamoring to be involved.

The decision to move through the rift had been overwhelming and bipartisan, save for a few contrarian extremists voting no. However, there was a near-universal agreement amongst the entire government that this was a golden opportunity for the United States.

And why wouldn't there be? The applications of magic, or "previously unobserved ambient particles," as the scientists insisted on calling them, were seemingly limitless. It could revolutionize energy, agriculture, healthcare, defense, hell, and even the entertainment industry. Every facet of society would be drastically changed by this magical revolution, and the United States of America would be at the epicenter of it all. They would have an ironclad monopoly on the most transformative technology since the advent of the computer.

But as exciting as the thought of a gilded age for America and its allies was, Toivonen couldn't shake the sense of unease that gnawed at her gut. She wasn't worried about the invasion itself. No, that would be messy regardless of whether she could get people on the inside or not. What really kept her up at night was what came after the fighting.

Another Global War on Terror was absolutely not an option. They couldn't afford to blunder into this new world half-cocked, guns blazing, and hopes high. They needed to understand the people they were dealing with. They needed to understand their culture, their values, and the very fabric of their society. Without that knowledge, without that deep, nuanced understanding, they risked making the same mistakes they had made time and time again. Imposing their will and their way of life on a population they didn't comprehend and, in return, reap a whirlwind of resentment and resistance that would inevitably follow.

No, they needed to infiltrate their society, and they needed it fast.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Toivonen rolled her chair towards her computer and started scrolling through the reports from the veritable horde of Special Operations Forces and her paramilitary officers. Toivonen’s eyes scanned her screen while murmuring under her breath. she searched for any glimmer of good news, any sign of progress.

"Contact was made with local farmers. Initial negotiations are promising. There is potential for further infiltration." She uttered while in the search for any glimmer of good news. "Observations of village hierarchy... preliminary assessment of economic structures... possible avenues for exploitation..." Again, useful information but nothing groundbreaking. Nothing that would give them the edge they needed to truly understand and manipulate this society.

For hours, Toivonen continued her search until her eyes caught the time and realized she needed to get going to that meeting in Virginia. Another sigh left her leaning back in her chair, rubbing her temples in a vain attempt to ward off the impending headache. It seemed today was going to be a bust as well.

Toivonen knew that she was pushing her people hard. Her officers were working their asses off in uncharted territory, trying to make inroads where they could, but they were on a very delicate timeline. Every day, every hour that passed without a significant breakthrough, was another straw piled up onto the camel's back that would ultimately end with another unsustainable occupation.

Giving her screen one more glance, Toivonen continued scrolling through the reports until a particular entry caught her eye. It was from an Army Special Forces team, detailing their successful infiltration into a village and the establishment of a clandestine forward operating base for other Special Operations forces in the area.

Initially, she was about to click away, her mind already moving on to the next potential lead, but something about the phrasing gave her pause. "Established as a forward operations base…?" she muttered to herself, her brow furrowing deeply. That sounded more significant than the usual recon and contact reports she'd been seeing.

The fact that they had managed to set up a functional base in enemy territory intrigued her. Deciding to read further, Toivonen started to murmur as she scanned through the report, and her eyes slowly started to widen with each point of interest.

“Dismantling an enemy company that was employing scorched earth tactics… clearing a village and ingratiating themselves to the survivors… using survivors to infiltrate another village… launch a snatch and grab operation and bagging a low-ranking noble…” Toivonen stopped halfway through the document before scrolling up to look at the Special Forces team’s profile. “Who are these guys…?”

As she reviewed each member’s dossier, a flicker of recognition sparked in her mind. This wasn't just any Special Forces team—it was the very problem child who had somehow attracted the attention of a fairy goddess from the other side.

A chuckle of amusement left Toivonen’s mouth as she placed a hand on her face. She had been so swamped with higher-priority tasks that she had almost completely forgotten they existed. She had case officers who were supposed to keep close tabs on their progress, but once they crossed into the other side, that was that. If she was being frank, part of Toivonen had expected that mischievous little demon to get them killed at some point or another.

But as she pored over the reports, she stumbled upon an attached document from an Intelligence Support Activity element, codenamed Obsidian Edge, detailing the intelligence they had gathered from this knight they had taken prisoner. It was filled to the brim with detailed description of the social structure and general atmosphere of the ‘Seraphic’ Empire and its vassal states. Granted, the information was filtered through the POW's somewhat schizophrenic perception, but it was still a goldmine compared to what they had been working with thus far.

Suddenly, Toivonen's interest in this Special Forces team skyrocketed. With a few deft clicks of her mouse and some rapid-fire clacks on her keyboard, she pulled up a horde of documents related to their mission. The team leader, Major Patrick Coleman, had been diligently cataloging their exploits in fine detail, and Toivonen eagerly devoured the intelligence analysts' assessments.

The more she read, the more impressed she became. These operators were good. Damn good. In a matter of weeks, operating in a completely foreign environment, they had managed to gather a truly staggering amount of actionable intel and started the process of building the bridges needed for the operations she was looking to conduct.

Leaning back in her chair, Toivonen crossed one leg over the other as her mind raced with the possibilities. “Coleman…” The Intelligence Chief muttered. It was as if she was tasting the name. Testing the weight of the name on her tongue.

Toivonen bit her lower lip as she delved deeper into the files on this borderline rogue team. There was something special about this group, something that set them apart from the other units operating in the area. The way this… ‘Coleman’ grasped and maneuvered his team through the human element of this conflict... it resonated with her on a fundamental level.

They weren't just gathering intel or making contacts. They were engaging with the local population, building relationships, and leveraging those connections to further their mission. These men were the living embodiment of the old Special Forces spirit… Slipping into hostile territory and destabilizing the government or regime in such a manner they can be deemed neutralized.

And by God, they were doing just that.

The decision to execute the village head under the guise of a Geneva Convention clause denying POW status to spies? It was a bold move, one that most commanders would have shied away from. But Coleman had made the call, and it had paid off in spades. The man even followed it up with a veritable puppet that was friendly towards US and NATO forces.

And then there was the way they had connected themselves to the criminal underground of this alien world, inserting themselves into the power structures of a major town. It was a risky play, one that could have backfired spectacularly.

As Toivonen read on, her respect for the man grew with each passing paragraph. He was taking risks, yes, but they were calculated risks, and each one was weighed against the potential benefits. But despite all this… there was a curious lack of details or even mentions about the problematic member of the man’s team and the goddess…

Toivonen leaned back in her chair, her mind whirring with the implications. She had read up on this individual and even met him during the negotiation with the goddess and her superiors… Elijah didn’t show a shred of respect for authority then, and she knew he most likely wouldn’t have been showing it now…

It was almost as if Coleman was covering for them.

Regardless, the networks Coleman and his team were building were the kind of deep, granular relationships that most in the CIA could only dream of. She needed to bring this man into her fold. If he could achieve this much operating independently, imagine what he could do with the full backing and resources of her organization.

The possibilities were endless.