The office was filled with early morning silence and stale air tinged with faint smell of cleaning chemicals and coffee stains, as I slumped into my chair, the weight of a sleepless night hanging heavy. Six-fifteen - even the sun hadn't properly woken up yet.

  I connected my Laptop to the office network, pressed the power button several times, because it needs a gentle nudge after several spilled beverages both hot and cold. Office IT guy has me on his hit list for some time now. After the fourth attempt I expected the modified boot sequence which is usually a comforting light show of magical calibration. Today, the screen flickered dull blue, before throwing up an error message I'd never seen before.

  "Critical magical interference detected. Recalibrating core systems."

  Fucking magical equivalent to Windows Update. The progress bar crawled to 15% and froze. I drummed my fingers on the desk, watching the percentage tick up at the speed of continental drift. At 23%, the screen went black.

  "Oh, come on!" I jabbed the power button again. The laptop responded with a sad little chirp and died completely.

  Coffee. I needed coffee to deal with this. Maybe pour a bit on the fucking laptop, it could only improve it… I shuffled to our break room's pride and joy - a fancy coffee maker that could brew everything from espresso to whatever weird concoction Jovan drinks. The machine's display blinked erratically, showing full screen of letter F instead of its usual menu.

  "Not you too." I moaned.

  I did the whole Service desk routine, turn it off, turn it on, unplug, plug in, hit it several times just for the sake of it, and at the end pressed all buttons randomly, hoping for a miracle. The machine responded by making a sound like a dying cat and spewing hot water across the counter.

  Back at my desk, I took out my AR glasses. They'd been acting a bit weird since last night, but maybe a fresh start and recalibration would help. I slipped them on and initiated the morning calibration sequence.

  "Battery at 2%," the display flashed.

  "What? I charged you all night!" The glasses responded by switching to Catalan, then Chinese, then what looked suspiciously like Klingon. The display flickered once more and went dark.

  I yanked them off and checked the charging indicator - solid green, meaning full charge. Or at least, what should have been full charge.

  "Trying to calibrate magical detection systems?" Ljiljana's voice carried across the empty office, tinged with amusement. "Save your energy. Everything electronic in the building is going haywire. Even my electric kettle refused to boil water."

  I dropped my head onto the desk with a thud. "Please tell me you brought coffee."

  "Better." She placed a thermos next to my head. "I brought rakija. Sometimes the old ways are best."

  I lifted my head, the pieces clicking together. The magical interference pattern was completely different from last night's archive attack - this was more like a localized EMP blast, but with a distinct magic I'd seen before.

  "Ljiljana," I groaned, watching her uncover that ancient Soviet monstrosity lying on her desk under the knitted scarf. "That radio again? Really?"

  She hugged the device protectively to her chest. "It picks up frequencies you can't get on modern equipment. Besides, I enhanced the reception-"

  "By infusing it with enough magical energy to fry every piece of tech in the building," I finished, rubbing my temples. "We've talked about this. Multiple times. Remember last month when you brought in that magically-modified typewriter and it crashed our entire security system?"

  "That was different," she protested, but her cheeks flushed pink. "The typewriter was experimental. This radio is tried and tested."

  "Tested to do what exactly? Turn our office into a dead zone for anything invented after 1960?"

  She muttered something under her breath, took out the batteries and carefully placed the radio back in her drawer. The moment she closed it, my laptop's screen flickered back to life.

  "See?" I pointed at my now-functioning computer. "Case closed."

  Right on cue like she was already prepared to make amends, LJiljana took out freshly home made vanilice from her bag.

  "Those vanilice smell amazing," I reached for one of the powdered cookies, the vanilla and walnut aroma making my mouth water. "But you know you don't need a Soviet-era ghost radio to-"

  "Just testing a theory." Ljiljana winked, pouring a generous splash of rakija into my coffee mug. "And besides, your modern gadgets could use a little... spiritual cleansing now and then."

  "Your definition of 'little' nearly fried my laptop." I lifted the mug, the sharp scent of home made plum brandy of at least 55% alcohol making my eyes water instantly. "And I swear, if you bring in another magical antique-"

  "I won't, I won't." Her smile had that familiar mischievous edge that usually meant she was crossing her fingers behind her back.

  Just as I was about to take a sip, Goran's voice cut through the office. "Really Ljiljana, rakija in the office… Again… And Aleksandar, you are aware that it's bloody six in the morning?" He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, but his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Though given last night's events, I suppose a little rakija with your coffee is the least of our concerns. Did anyone else notice their electronics acting strange this morning? Besides Ljiljana's usual... experiments?"

  "Come on, boss, it's medicinal. For the tech trauma." I gestured at my recently revived laptop. "And regarding everything else..." I squinted at my laptop screen now that it was up and running, scrolling through system logs. "Everything's running perfectly normal now. Just like last night after the attack - all traces gone, systems restored."

  The office door squeaked open as Jovan shuffled in, hugging his tablet like it might shatter. His eyes darted between his screen and Ljiljana's desk drawer where the Soviet menace lay dormant.

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  "My algorithms..." He twitched. "They're all scrambled. Again. Third time this month, Ljiljana!"

  Milenko, oldest member of the team, excluding granny Ljiljana, followed, clutching a stack of printouts and an old leather-bound notepad. Smart man - paper never crashed. "Conference room?" he suggested, eyebrows raised at the growing tension.

  We filed into the meeting room, the morning sun casting long shadows across the conference table. I slumped into my usual chair, watching everyone settle in with their various caffeine vessels - coffee, energy drinks, and in Ljiljana's case, that rakija-laced tea that could probably power a small car.

  "So," Goran cleared his throat, "before we dive into last night's events, we'll need to do a full system reset. Again." He shot Ljiljana a pointed look. "And perhaps we could discuss appropriate storage for certain... vintage equipment?"

  Ljiljana just smiled innocently and sipped her rakija-tea.

  I pulled up the screenshots from last night on the conference room's projector, the colorful energy pulsing in eerie patterns across the screen. "Look at this pattern - it's like nothing I've seen before. It's not just raw magical force, it's... structured. Methodical."

  "Hmmm, I've seen something similar…" Ljiljana leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Our archives and libraries were protected in the past few hundred years by an old magic. Spells based on honing protective magical energy from house guardian spirits. They weren't just protective spirits; they were keepers of family secrets." She traced the pattern in the air. "These spells were modified and kept with introduction of the new technology but the base is still the same. What these attackers were using are energy patterns corresponding with a spell…" she trailed off, got up and left the room.

  While she was leaving Jovan fidgeted with his tablet, still glitching from radio incident. "Ok, that was… Anyway, in all locations the attack targeted specific data clusters. Here-" He pulled up a network diagram, hands shaking slightly as he pointed to red nodes. "They bypassed our main security but triggered secondary magical wards. It's like they knew exactly where to look. or at least period. In all locations attack was focused on the archives from the first half of 20th century."

  "And I assume they found it," I added, switching to the final screenshot. "The attack stopped the moment they hit this server in National Archive of Serbia. Clean exit, no trace left except what I managed to capture."

  Milenko cleared his throat, flipping through his leather notebook. "The attacks on Libraries and Archives are nothing new. You heard of Library of Vienna breach in 1873, 1925. National library Budapest, Nazi's clearing everything during WWII. Knowledge is always at risk, similar magical security applies everywhere in the world and similar patterns like these were reported every time." He adjusted his glasses. "It's true that it did not happen for some time now, but new technology gives the thieves new opportunities."

  "But this is different," Jovan interrupted, his voice rising. "We can't apply 19th-century magical theory to modern cyber security! Our systems-"

  "Are still based on fundamental magical principles," Milenko cut in. "The medium changes, but the magical energy remains the same."

  "Enough." Goran's voice carried that quiet authority that always silenced the room. "We're looking at this wrong. Whether it's traditional magic or modern tech, the question remains - what did they find? What was worth this level of sophistication?"

  The door creaked open and Ljiljana shuffled back in, struggling under the weight of a massive leather-bound tome. The book's dark brown cover showed centuries of wear, brass corners dulled with age. Strange symbols glinted along its spine, catching the morning light.

  She dropped it onto the conference table with a heavy thud that made Jovan's tablet jump. My coffee mug rattled, sending ripples through the liquid.

  "Here." She flipped through yellowed pages covered in cramped handwriting and intricate diagrams. The musty smell of old paper and herbs filled the air. "Look at this pattern."

  I leaned forward, squinting at a complex magical diagram that seemed to writhe and shift under my gaze. The same shapes and forms from my screenshots, but rendered in faded ink and careful detail.

  "Psoglav or Dog-head spell," Ljiljana traced the pattern with her finger. "Ancient magic, predating most protective wards. In folklore, Psoglav was a demon that could find anything hidden, break any protection. This spell works the same way - it seeks out specific information and tears through magical barriers to get it."

  "Like a magical search algorithm," I said, earning an eye roll from Milenko.

  "More like a supernatural digital bloodhound," Ljiljana corrected. "But yes, the principle is similar. The spell tracks the energy signature of whatever you're looking for, then..." She made a ripping gesture. "Forces its way through protective magic."

  "How many groups could pull this off?" Goran asked.

  Ljiljana's fingers lay still on the ancient page. "Three, maybe four organizations worldwide have the knowledge and power to attempt it. Fewer could execute it this cleanly." She glanced at the screenshots. "This level of precision... I'd say we're looking at someone with both ancient magical knowledge and modern technical expertise."

  "Great," I slumped back in my chair. "So we're dealing with evil wizard hackers who can tear through centuries-old magical protections like tissue paper."

  "Evil wizard hackers with very specific interests," Milenko added, studying the book. "The question remains - what were they looking for in those archives?"

  "There's nothing much we can do from here and we don't know how quickly any residue energy will fade so we need to move fast," Goran absently stroked his chin. "Aleksandar, you and I will head to the Archives. Jovan, I want you monitoring everything remotely - set up a secure connection and keep an eye on any anomalies."

  I fiddled with my AR glasses, still glitchy from Ljiljana's radio incident. The calibration screen kept switching between languages. "Just need to get these working properly first."

  "Here." Ljiljana snatched the glasses, mumbling under her breath. The lenses glowed briefly, and when she handed them back, the display was crystal clear. "Added a protection ward. Should keep them stable."

  "Thanks, but please don't turn them into another Soviet-era relic."

  "Cheeky boy." She rummaged through her bag, pulling out small cloth pouches. "Take these too. Traditional protective charms."

  "Ljiljana," Goran sighed, "we have state-of-the-art security systems-"

  "Which failed spectacularly last night," she cut in, shoving pouches into our hands. "Humor an old woman."

  Milenko cleared his throat. "She's right. We're dealing with ancient magic here. Modern tech alone won't cut it."

  I slipped the pouch into my pocket, the herbs inside crackling. "Can't hurt to have backup. Jovan, what's our network situation? I don't expect any more attacks in near future but we should play it safe."

  Jovan hunched over his tablet, fingers flying. "Setting up encrypted channels now. I've modified the detection algorithms to flag any energy patterns matching the Psoglav code." He glanced nervously at Ljiljana. "Assuming nothing interferes with the signals again."

  "That radio is staying locked away," she promised, though I noticed she didn't mention her other magical gadgets.

  I did a quick mental precheck of my gear: laptop, modified security bypass tools, and the AR glasses now humming with Ljiljana's protection spell. The display showed magical energy patterns in crisp detail - whatever she'd done had actually improved the resolution.

  "We are moving out in an hour, and remember," Goran addressed the team, "we're looking for physical access points. Whoever did this might have left traces on the hardware itself. Jovan, monitor all network traffic. Milenko, deep dive into those archives - find any historical data that is out of ordinary and would potentially be interesting find for the hackers. Ljiljana..."

  "I'll keep my experiments contained," she smiled innocently. "But take this also." She pressed something cold and metallic into my hand - an old compass, its needle spinning wildly. "It responds to magical disturbances. More reliable than your fancy glasses."

  "Time check," Goran announced. "It's seven-fifteen now. We'll head to the Archives at eight-fifteen, do initial reconnaissance, then coordinate with their security team. Aleksandar, you're driving."

  "Because your driving would get us killed before any evil wizard hackers could," I groaned, earning a sharp look.

  "Communications and update check every hour," Goran continued, ignoring my comment. "If anything feels off, attack starts again or you find out something new please do share with the team as soon as possible."

  The team nodded and slowly filed out of the conference room, everyone deep in their own thoughts.