TheTravelingLad

For many agents, it was a boring day at the Motherlobe. While the paperwork types toiled in their offices and other faculty members went about their duties, Agent Phage was spurning additional help from the medical agents. If anyone looked her way, then they would have noticed a deep blue bruise on her right cheek, bandages wrapped around her left forearm, and a limp in her gait. The agents who did quickly averted their eyes, Milka scowling at them as she passed, her destination deeper within the Motherlobe. Milka was not an average agent. Her missions revolved around her cunning and stealth. She infiltrated several organizations that threatened national or global safety. And on infrequent occasions, she didn’t come out unscathed. Her latest mission had been in the Arctic. Psychic scientists had been mutating the wildlife into telekinetic monstrosities to wreak havoc on the local population. One of the polar bears nearly ripped her arm off. If she hadn’t PSI blasted it back into the