The sky never felt more alive as Vix walked down the intricate halls of the Grand Majestry’s castle. Sunlight filtered through high clouds, scattering gold across the marble floors and casting long, serene beams that seemed to bless the world below. A soft breeze drifted in through the open windows, carrying the fragrance of blooming gardens from the courtyards and stirring Vix’s black long-sleeve shirt, setting its fabric and his white hair into gentle motion.

  “How’s the girl?”

  The voice was calm, smooth, and carried the weight of authority without pressing down. Kai Evergreen walked beside him, his presence at once human and otherworldly. He wore a slim white robe trimmed with golden thread, draped effortlessly over a shirt patterned in sunlit motifs of white and gold. On the collar of his robe gleamed a golden badge in the shape of an ‘Q’ — the Queen card, a symbol of great strength and wisdom. Its polished surface caught the light like a star pinned to his shoulder, a quiet reminder of why he bore the title of Grand Majestry.

  Perfectly cut black trousers led down to polished white dress shoes that gleamed as if the sun itself bent to highlight him. His long golden hair flowed with the same breeze, each strand catching the sunlight like spun threads of flame.

  Beside him, Vix’s all-black attire — sleek shirt, dark trousers, and hard boots — only deepened the contrast. If Kai was a vision of radiance, Vix was a shadow of discipline, the super soldier against the sovereign.

  “She just had her first birthday a few weeks ago. Starting school tomorrow.”

  “That’s good to hear. Has she been a handful?”

  “Hardly.”

  Kai’s lips curved into the faintest smile, and his luminous yellow eyes studied Vix with quiet amusement.

  “Something tells me you’re being disingenuous.”

  Vix’s composure faltered, his mouth tugging into a nervous grin.

  “She just asks a lot of questions…”

  “That makes sense!” Kai replied with a soft smile.

  “I’m hoping school sets most of her burdens free.”

  “I believe it will.”

  “I just don’t see what Captain Staffire sees in her. Do you think it’s possible she has a mana link between me or him?”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s impossible.”

  “She obtained a wand built from a corrupted core. Controlling something like that at her age is going to be quite difficult. Even if it was me in her place.”

  “There you go again, humbling yourself,” Kai said, his tone carrying a faint laugh. “It’s a fine trait, but I worry. A man of your age can’t keep that up forever. You need to share it with people your age.”

  “Are—are you trying to suggest something?” Vix asked, stiffening.

  “I’m just saying…” Kai leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. “…girls into bad boys.”

  If Vix had been drinking water, he would have spat it across the hall.

  “Grand Majestry! Are you—no—this has to be Yaxon’s doing!”

  Kai burst out in laughter, warm and unrestrained, even holding his stomach as if the joke had surprised himself. “You caught us! But he’s worried too! You need to find someone to settle with!”

  “That comes later!” Vix barked, his face flushed.

  “But when will later come?” Kai replied instantly, patting Vix’s back as if the answer were obvious. “Well, I’ll say this—later might need to come after this mission. Are you aware of Princess Saharia?”

  “Princess Saharia. Of course, sire,” Vix answered, shaking his head with a small smile at Kai’s antics.

  “She’s in need of guardianship for her little sister’s wedding tomorrow. She requested one of my finest and strongest sorcerers to ensure nothing… unfortunate takes place. Can you perform that simple act? There will be lots of shrimp.”

  “Right. Because as if I needed bribing to carry out your orders,” Vix muttered, smiling cautiously at him before breaking into a muffled chuckle.

  “There you go again! So humble, so in need,” Kai said with mock pity, patting his back even harder this time.

  “Wait—wait! Hold on a damn minute!” Vix sputtered, eyes widening. “Are you sending me on this guardianship to—to potentially court with the Princess?”

  Kai immediately pulled away, turned toward the open window, and began whistling a little tune as if the question had never been asked.

  “Come on! What’s up with you today? Why not send Yaxon?” Vix asked, half pleading.

  “Oh, you know he has a wife already! It can’t be him!” Kai answered, shaking his head with mock seriousness.

  “Between you and me… you know he’d go for the shrimp,” Vix muttered under his breath.

  “I have him take care of this. The bribery might work on him after all…” Kai said, pretending to seriously consider the idea. Vix, however, was completely fooled—his eyes lit up, believing the Grand Majestry might actually accept his suggestion.

  “… No. It won’t do. He has obligations at Kormadyne. And I swear, if he doesn’t fulfill them—!” Kai suddenly raised his voice with theatrical anger, his golden hair practically glowing in the sunlight.

  “Right, right! You’ll throttle him.”

  The two shared an unrestrained laugh that echoed through the castle halls before continuing their stroll.

  “Anyway, continue on with your mission as you take care of the girl. I trust Yaxon’s reasoning to dedicate your life to her.”

  “Of course, sire. I will.”

  “And—” Before Kai could continue, a sharp chime cut him off. Vix’s holo-communicator lit up. With a flick, he tossed it forward; the device hovered in the air, projecting a large screen.

  “Commander Vix!”

  “General Haas.”

  “Did you receive my briefing?”

  “Yes. I’m well informed of the troubles at Fort Carven. I’ll make my way toward the investigation site within the week.”

  “Can’t be this week. It has to be now, Commander. I’m sorry, but things are far more serious than anticipated. With you on deck, we could reach a solution much sooner. This is urgent.”

  “But—I was just ordered by the Grand Majestry to tend to another mission!”

  Kai folded his arms, silent.

  “Can it not wait?” Vix asked. “I’ll put in a request for transfer authorization, but—”

  “Negative. Make your way immediately. I’m sending an EMV. That’s an order.”

  Vix’s jaw tightened. He glanced at Kai, torn between two impossible choices. Kai had every authority to overrule Haas, yet simply smiled in amusement.

  “…What should I do…” Vix muttered under his breath.

  “Well, I certainly don’t want to overwhelm you. Stressing you out isn’t my wish.” Kai leaned in, his tone deceptively gentle. “Please, pick for yourself, Commander.”

  Vix stared at the glowing screen, then at Kai. The weight of both commands pressed down on him like iron. His lips parted—but only air came through. No words. He couldn’t do it. Not yet.

  Until—

  “Lieutenant Stark reporting for duty!” a firm voice cut in through the communicator.

  Vix’s head snapped toward the screen.

  “Gah! What—what the hell? You! Where did you come from!?” General Haas barked, stumbling back out of frame. In his place appeared a tall man in white robes, posture perfect.

  “Milo!” Vix exclaimed.

  “Ah! Seems like Lieutenant Stark made it just in time!” Kai said, his tone whimsical.

  “Aye, I’m at the investigation site now, Commander. Allow me to take point,” Milo declared, voice firm and unshaken.

  “It’d be my honor to order you to carry on, Lieutenant.” Relief flooded Vix’s face as he grinned.

  “What the hell! You can’t just—AGGHH!!! That damn Staffire always butts into things he isn’t needed for!” Haas shouted, veins practically bulging.

  Milo, unbothered, reached calmly into his chest pocket. “Captain Staffire thought you might say that. He instructed me to read this letter.” He unfolded the paper like a machine executing code, his expression blank.

  Clearing his throat, he read in clipped bursts:

  “Hey… Jack-Hass. Milo’s gonna… fix your mess in… what, two days? Sit back and enjoy a margarita… or slime shit… or whatever pig crap you pretend to enjoy. Oh—and try not to get in his way. Otherwise, I’ll… tell your wife… about Bermuda. See ya!”

  The sentences dropped out of his mouth like bricks, chopped and uneven, as if the handwriting had defeated even him.

  Haas froze. His anger drained to a whisper.

  “Wh-what?! How does he even know…”

  “I’m now taking point on this investigation, General. I’ll report back with my findings.”

  And with that, Milo delivered his last, straight-forward statement before vaulting from the fort’s walls, sprinting toward the smoking horizon.

  “That cursed Staffire squad!” General Haas roared before the holo-feed abruptly cut. The communicator folded neatly back to Vix’s hip.

  “Did… did you send him?” Vix asked, a giant grin spreading across his face.

  “I did say it, didn’t I?” Kai replied with a serene smile. “Stressing you out isn’t my wish, Commander.”

  His gaze shifted to the silent communicator resting at Vix’s hip.

  “He’s really a no-nonsense guy, isn’t he?”

  “He certainly is.”

  “Now, please take my mission seriously. Please?”

  “Protecting the wedding?”

  “…and maybe… less protecting your virginity?”

  Vix slapped a hand over his face, crimson with embarrassment.

  #

  Rin anxiously shuffled her way toward the academy’s front gates—or at least as close as she could manage with the sea of children ahead of her. She had been pushed all the way to the back, her giant backpack weighing her down like an anchor. Vix had told her she’d only need a few essentials for her first day, but Benneth had insisted on packing

  Now she looked like a camel in the desert, straining with every step. Not too different, she thought, from her life before this moment.

  The bag itself might have weighed as much as she did, if not more. Only Benneth’s enchantment allowed her to carry it at all. A few instructors in crisp white robes began cutting through the crowd at the grand main entrance, their voices sharp as they barked commands. The children were quickly divided into eight groups. Each line was admitted into the academy one at a time, with long pauses in between, as though the gates themselves were measuring who was worthy to enter.

  Rin’s group was second to last. She shifted restlessly from side to side, but unlike the children sighing around her, she wasn’t bored. How could she be? Everything here was new—the fresh green foliage growing across what was supposed to be a floating island, the whispered words of kids her age talking about things she didn’t understand, the promise that soon she would be learning about herself. Her magic. Her future. Maybe even becoming a great sorceress, strong enough to stand beside Vix one day.

  That thought alone filled her with such excitement she nearly forgot to breathe. She couldn’t stop smiling, even when her cheeks burned from holding it too long. The joy was too much to hide.

  “Hey, did you hear about last year’s graduates?” a boy in front of Rin muttered.

  “Yeah! They apparently went missing—on the Supreme Dean’s watch! Makes me worry…” another whispered.

  “Aren’t the older kids supposed to be, you know, examples? Why didn’t they obey the Supreme Dean?” a third added, his voice low with gossip.

  Rin tilted her head, staring at them.

  Suddenly— She yelped as the world tilted and she hit the ground, her knee scraping hard against the stone. A hot, stinging pain radiated across her skin, making her eyes water.

  “Hey! Watch where you’re standing, filthy moron!” a boy snapped. He stood over her with an exaggerated look of annoyance, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder as if her fall had dirtied him.

  He wore a perfectly fitted black suit, the shimmering tie catching the morning light. The outfit echoed Vix’s sleek, disciplined look—only sharper, almost too professional for a boy his age. His hair was a striking grey, its tips brushed with streaks of orange, like the fading rays of a cloudy autumn sunset.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  His eyes were different from Vix’s, too—large where Vix’s were sharp, and colored a deep, abyssal black. Just at the edge, a faint glimmer of orange lingered, catching the light as he looked down at her.

  “Ha! What a clumsy idiot! Eating dirt on the first day of school?!” a boy behind him jeered. He wore a similarly pristine outfit, though a lighter shade of black and without a tie.

  “Good one, Bill!” another chimed in, slapping the first on the back as they laughed together.

  “Enough!” the suited boy snapped, his voice cutting through their laughter. “Don’t you get it? My brand-new suit has been

  on the first day of school—by this mutt!”

  The boys behind him froze, the laughter dying instantly.

  For a moment, his anger seemed absolute, like a void that swallowed every ounce of warmth. And yet… Rin noticed how fragile it felt, as though that darkness might vanish if he only tilted his head toward the light.

  And then, it did. His expression softened as his gaze returned to her.

  “Your dress…” he said, his tone quieter now. “You got it from , didn’t you?” He extended a hand toward Rin.

  For some reason, the gesture made her blush. She was speechless—frozen, staring. She didn’t know what it meant, but instinct guided her hand into his. His palm was warm, smooth, and gentle, like the only two people she had ever trusted before. And so, she trusted him, too.

  More than that, it was the fact he had guessed her clothing’s origin so effortlessly. Or perhaps it was the way he pronounced the boutique’s name with such casual grace.

  With a firm, gentlemanly tug, he pulled Rin to her feet.

  “Girl… are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head before a smile overtook his face.

  “I-I’m okay…” Rin managed to mutter.

  “Your shoes… your bag… even your hairpins—they’re all from Rue’s, aren’t they?”

  “Y-yes… they are…”

  “My! Then forgive me for my utterly disgraceful behavior!” he exclaimed, bowing with one arm swept across his waist.

  The two boys behind him were struck dumb, unable to follow his sudden change in tone.

  “You two! Apologize to her at once!”

  “B-but, Drenco—”

  “At once!” he snapped, his voice sharp as a whip.

  The boys straightened, then quickly mimicked Drenco’s dramatic bow.

  “We apologize!” they blurted.

  Rin blinked, utterly lost. She had no idea what was happening anymore.

  “A-anyway…” he continued, still holding his bow. “I was having a dreadful morning, you see… my steak was far too juicy, and my lobster was unbearably buttery. Who on earth can tolerate such a hearty breakfast? And to make matters worse, I arrived here far too early!”

  It was the first time Rin had ever heard of steak and lobster. But she did understand what it meant to be on time for school.

  He suddenly straightened, adjusting his suit and tie with practiced precision.

  “You’d understand, wouldn’t you?”

  Rin nodded quickly—even though she hadn’t understood a single word.

  “Excellent!” He clapped once, his face lighting up before leaning close. Sliding an arm around her shoulder, he covered his mouth. His whisper tickled her ear.

  “Honestly? Those rats behind me? Not even worth our time. And the rest of these students? Forget them. If we stick together, we could easily rule this school and prove we don’t need anyone else. We’re above such trivialities! What do you say? Hang with me, and we’ll be destined for lives greater than even the King and Queen… or the Grand Majestry himself.”

  Rin blinked.

  Rin muttered, “O-okay…” still unsure of herself.

  “Perfect!” Drenco whispered back, delighted. “Oh, by the way, m’lady—what’s your name?”

  “M-my name is Rin…”

  “Rin! What a lovely name!” His smile beamed, practically glowing. “I am Drenco Vandergrift! It is my humblest honor to meet you—no—to be graced by your presence!”

  He seemed so innocent. Just like her. Full of joy, confidence, and bravery—qualities Rin could only dream of wearing herself. But this boy, Drenco… he already had them, and he was only a child like her. He felt like a role model. If someone her age could stand so tall, then maybe she could too. Maybe her dream of becoming a strong, confident sorceress wasn’t far out of reach after all.

  “Oh my! Please, forgive me!” he exclaimed again, suddenly dropping back into another dramatic bow. “What kind of nobleman forgets to ask a lady’s family name?”

  Rin froze. She didn’t have one. Vix and Benneth had explained that after attending her first year of schooling, she would be granted a family name. But they’d also warned her not to let anyone know. Not yet.

  “I… It’s… um…” she stuttered, panic bubbling in her throat.

  But Drenco’s eyes softened as he lifted his head from the bow. He looked at her as though he had all the patience in the world—patience he would give entirely to her and her alone. Rin fumbled further beneath that gaze, ready to crumble—

  “Group seven! Inward, now! Follow me!” A man’s sharp voice cut through the moment, guiding Rin’s line toward the Academy entrance.

  “Ah! It’s time for these monkeys to pretend they’ve a place in society.” Drenco sighed. “Worry not, dear Rin. We will become the rightful royalty of this pathetic second rate academy. Even if there’s no first rate one, we’ll prove to them all that none of them could hold us. Hell, maybe we’d… make our own?” he said with a teasing smile faced towards Rin.

  She blushed again immediately in response.

  “Shall we?” He said holding out his elbow.

  “Oh! Uh… yes!” She said immediately getting the idea that he wants to be held. So she grabbed the fabric of his suit.

  “Oh my! Certain family traditions?” Drenco said with a wry smile but allowed it anyway. In response, he grabbed a part of Rin’s dress gently as they began to walk together. “I like that in my women…”

  “Oh! Alright!” Rin said with a giggle of her own. She didn’t know what that meant. Or that her elbows should’ve been locked with Drenco. How could she? She’s only held the fabrics of her guardians or their hands when they allowed her to.

  Once inside, a cool draft rolled over Rin’s skin, carrying with it the faint scent of polished wood and fresh lilies from enchanted vases. The sudden change from the heat outside sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

  She had been here once before, yet the vastness of the Academy’s grand foyer left her stunned all over again. The ceiling soared impossibly high—four, maybe five stories—arched like the inside of a cathedral and painted with sweeping murals of constellations that twinkled faintly with their own starlight.

  The centerpiece was the ballroom, stretching out before them in perfect symmetry, its marble floor polished so finely it reflected the crowds like a second world beneath their feet. The towering pillars were more than stone: each told a story. Figures and beasts carved in high relief acted out ancient battles, festivals, and pacts between sorcerers and kings. One infant-like figure poured water from a vessel in the clouds, and the water was real—flowing steadily down the pillar into narrow channels that traced the perimeter of the room, gathering in shallow pools that mirrored the ceiling stars.

  Light itself seemed to bend in reverence here. Golden daylight spilled in through stained-glass windows, their panes shifting colors with the hour. That glow mingled with suspended lanterns, flickering torches, and enchanted bulbs that hummed softly, as if alive.

  Everywhere, voices filled the chamber—children whispering, robes rustling, footsteps echoing against the polished floor. The room wasn’t just for ceremony: alcoves lined with benches hinted at late-night studying, a balcony above suggested future dances, and a recessed dais at the far end bore flowers, candles, and offerings where students could kneel and pay respects to the founders of the Academy.

  For now, every group that had gathered outside was shepherded inside, the great chamber swelling with color and life.

  “Attention!” A booming voice cut through the noise. It came from an old man at the back center of the ballroom. He stood proudly behind a lectern of oak and silver, his long white beard falling to his chest. Thin golden frames perched on his nose, and the purple of his robe matched the tall cone-shaped hat resting over his snow-white hair.

  “Welcome, Impites, to your first year at Kormadyne Academy of Magical-America!” the old man thundered. His voice carried easily to every corner of the ballroom. “I am Grounds Master Marlin Voygur, and it is my honor to welcome you to the most elite blend of sorcery and technology that any academy has ever dared to offer!”

  The room erupted—cheers, claps, even a few excited shouts echoing off the marble pillars. The sound was alive, rolling like a wave across the gathering of children.

  Drenco leaned toward Rin, his tone low but dripping with smug amusement.

  “Yeah, right… By the time I’m done with this place, that old man will be licking my shoes clean until graduation. Isn’t that right, Rin?” He elbowed her playfully, grinning to himself.

  Rin’s stomach tightened. There was something about the way he said it—something that didn’t belong. Words like that, aimed at a man who stood with such authority in her school, felt dangerous. Wrong, even. She didn’t know why it unsettled her so much, but it did.

  Still, she forced a nod and a small smile, as if agreeing.

  “Settle down! Settle down, children!” Marlin called, his voice booming across the ballroom. The chatter and clapping dwindled until the room was still. “The fact that you are here today means you have already overcome great challenges. To secure seven recommendations from notable figures, to pass the entrance examinations, and even to find the courage to stand here now—each of these marks you as children of commitment and resolve. For that alone, I am proud of you all.”

  Another wave of cheers and applause thundered through the hall.

  “…Exam? There was an entrance exam?” Rin blurted out before she could stop herself.

  “Right? Ha! What a fool!” Drenco laughed, clutching his stomach. “Doesn’t he know? People like us never bother with such petty exams! That’s for commoners. We get in through real power and reputation!”

  Rin froze, her smile fading. His laughter rang too loud, too proud, echoing in ways that felt wrong. A new unease coiled inside her chest, deeper this time. It wasn’t just the arrogance—it was something else. Something dangerous, like standing too close to a fire she couldn’t see.

  “As tradition, we will soon sort you into your appropriate houses,” Marlin announced, spreading his arms wide. “I am sure most of you already know their purpose—having studied for your exams—but it never hurts to remind:

  There are four houses, each a pillar of Kormadye Academy. The North House, for those of discipline and fortitude, matched by its sister, the South House, for those with heart and compassion. The East House, devoted to curiosity and invention, and its twin, the West House, marked by resilience and cunning. Your placement will reflect your merits, your budding magical strength, and the accomplishments that have brought you this far. Our fortune tellers, as always, work dutifully behind the veil to ensure the process is precise and true.”

  Rin thought, her head tilting slightly.

  “Of course, we’ll be in the North House, Rin,” Drenco said smugly. He turned, capturing her hand like a knight pledging himself to royalty. “Where else would we belong?”

  “N-North House? Together?”

  “Of course. Above the rest of these… peasants.”

  Rin nodded faintly, though something about the word peasants made her stomach twist.

  Marlin raised his voice again. “Now, once you are placed in a house, remember—it is not permanent! This academy is meant to shape you, to help you grow. Where you begin is not where you must remain. By your accomplishments, growth, and academic triumphs, you may rise to new houses. But—” he paused, and the silence drew tight across the room. “But there is one house no one can be born into, no one can stumble into by chance: the Center House. It is the seat of legends, a place reserved for those who rise above not just their peers, but their very selves. It will always remain the very heart of Kormadyne!”

  The room erupted. Gasps, whispers, a storm of chatter. Even Rin could feel it—the way the very name seemed to carry weight, as though the Center House weren’t just a place, but a throne waiting for someone bold enough to sit upon it.

  “C–Center House?” Drenco exclaimed. Rin turned to him and saw a look she never expected. Oddly enough, it was a relief—he was shocked, genuinely taken off guard.

  “It has been the home of the famous James, the Vandergrifts, the Amagiris, the Ambrosius line, the Emrys, the Neptons… and yes, even—” Marlin lowered his voice as if ashamed to speak the name. “Even Staffire.”

  He cleared his throat quickly, cutting off the rising gasps and gossip before they could swell.

  “Now, it is your turn! Do not aim simply for the stars, my children. Aim for the galaxies!”

  This time, the cheers burst forth without restraint. No one stopped them; the hall shook with the sound of excitement as the Impites let all of their joy spill out at once.

  Rin and Drenco seemed to be the only ones not swept up in the excitement.

  “I—I can’t believe it!” Drenco spat, his voice trembling with fury. “There was a fifth house!? Why wasn’t I informed? Damn that dead bastard!”

  Rin whipped her head toward him, taken aback by the sudden rage cracking through his earlier composure.

  “Um… are you… going to be okay?” she asked, raising her voice as much as she could over the noise of the cheering crowd.

  “…Yeah.” His tone dropped, low and certain. “Seems like there’s been a change of plans. Forget the North House. We’re going for the Center one.” His dark eyes locked on Rin with a sharpened intensity.

  “R-right…” Rin gulped, her stomach tightening. A heavy doubt pressed down on her chest — doubt over what kind of boy Drenco might really be.

  #

  The same kind of doubt was something General Haas couldn’t afford.

  “What the hell is your plan, Stark?!” Haas barked, his voice sharp with rage. “You going to—what—sexually harass my men until you find something useful?” His fists clenched around his wand, trembling, ready to fire a spell if need be. But what was the point? It’d never hit him anyway.

  “Hmm. This one’s cleared,” Milo muttered, rubbing his chin as he dangled a sorceress upside down by her ankles.

  “Uhh… sir? Huge fan… but… my… skirt…?” she whimpered.

  Milo ignored her plea and casually let go.

  “Wha—!?” Haas bolted forward, catching her just before she hit the concrete floor.

  “What the fuck!” Haas roared, nearly dropping her in his fury.

  “It seems she isn’t experienced enough to have saved herself there. She’s clear.”

  “I thought you already cleared her!” Haas snapped.

  Milo simply floated down, touching the floor with casual grace before strolling off in the opposite direction. Haas gently set the sorceress aside and stormed after him.

  “Care to tell me what exactly you’re looking for, Lieutenant? Because your presence is hindering my investigation more than that idiotic Staffire ever could! And—and I actually respected you until now!”

  “My apologies, General,” Milo said lightly, as if brushing dust from his sleeve. “It seems the only lead we have is the corpses of clown-painted sorcerers you’ve been so kindly escorting. Clearly, the ringleader must be a fan of circuses.”

  “The fuck kind of evaluation is that? No shit! Wait. What?” Haas yelled, tripping over his own fury.

  “Would you be aware of anything important left behind? Or perhaps… something missing?”

  “You—you are investigating, right? Or are you insulting me?”

  “Both?”

  “What did I even do to you?!” Haas roared.

  “I thought that answer might amuse you.”

  “It didn’t!”

  “My apologies, sir.”

  Haas dragged his palm down his face, groaning in disbelief. A general known for never conceding defeat, yet here he was, already defeated by words.

  “Well… can you at least let me in on this? You’re looking for something, aren’t you?”

  “Not something. Someone.” Milo’s voice dropped cold. “There’s a imposter among us. And they’re good—very good—at hiding their presence.”

  “What!?” Haas snarled. “You mean a traitor? In my command!? When I get my hands on—”

  But Milo had already drawn his wand. Haas’s reflexes kicked in, and his wand snapped up as well.

  The air froze. Both men locked eyes in silence, like predators circling. Milo’s gaze was calm, calculating. Haas’s burned with fury. It felt less like two comrades investigating a crime and more like a tiger choosing when to strike its prey.

  “What. What’s going on.” Haas muttered, lowering his voice. His eyes scanned the horizon, searching for something—anything.

  “Nothing,” Milo said smoothly. “I thought you’d feel better if you drew your wand. Do you feel involved now?”

  “I wish to file a formal complaint to your superior.”

  “Approved.”

  “Gah! For fuck’s sake, Stark! Do you truly intend to assist in this investigation or not!?” Haas barked, his wand still trembling in his grip.

  Milo parted his lips to respond, eyes still sweeping across the ruined fort’s shadowy alleyway. But before he could get a word out—

  “Never mind! I already know what you’re going to say,” Haas snapped, cutting him off.

  Milo simply nodded and stepped forward. His movements were careful, almost feline. Haas noticed immediately—the shift in weight, the deliberate slowness. It wasn’t just casual wandering anymore. Milo was hunting something.

  Haas copied Milo’s movements, scanning the shadows as if he might catch whatever the lieutenant saw. If there was one thing he’d gathered about Stark, it was that the man never wasted time, energy, or effort. If he acted, there was purpose. At least that made him predictable. Readable.

  Then Haas spotted it too. A dark shape slumped against the stone. A body. One that hadn’t been accounted for.

  Milo was already kneeling beside it, his white gloves brushing aside dust as he tugged at the corpse’s tattered clothing. Haas stood behind, looking down.

  “Poor bastard,” Haas muttered. “Whatever he faced, he never stood a chance.”

  “He isn’t a victim,” Milo said flatly. “He’s an… enemy.”

  “That? There’s no face on that. How the hell could you even tell?”

  Before Milo could answer, a woman’s voice rang out from behind.

  “General!”

  Haas turned. “Lieutenant Farah. Speak.”

  “We’ve completed recovery on the northern side of the fort. Permission to begin clean-up?”

  “Hmm. All of it? The southern unit’s still struggling. Look here.” Haas gestured back toward the body. “We’ve found a straggler. Make sure it’s fully recovered. Every scrap, every shred—” He flicked a glance over his shoulder at Milo, who was still working the corpse. “—it could help us piece this together.”

  “Yes, General!”

  Farah’s boots clattered away into the rubble as she moved to carry out his orders. Haas gave her a curt nod and turned back toward the corpse.

  “Ensure it’s fully recovered! And—"

  He froze. A sound cut through his words. Footsteps. Sharp. Swift. Moving away.

  Haas’s head snapped around. The space beside the corpse was empty. Milo was gone.

  The air still hung cool, the body still sprawled in rags — but the man kneeling over it a heartbeat ago had vanished as though he’d never been.

  “Stark!?” Haas barked, already lunging toward the nearest alley. His boots slammed against stone as he broke into a sprint.

  Ahead, the footsteps quickened.

  Milo had found his prey.

  He turned the corner of the intersection and spotted Milo — giving chase, his coat snapping behind him as his boots tore across the stone. Ahead, the shadowy figure sprinted desperately, always just out of reach. Milo could not close the gap. The fugitive could not shake him.

  Until—

  A blinding light split the alley. The air trembled. Then came the roar — ancient, monstrous, shaking dust from the broken walls.

  From the light, a scaled arm erupted, crimson as molten iron, ending in a three-pronged claw. It crashed down with a thunderclap, seizing the fleeing figure mid-stride. Screams tore through the air. The grip tightened, and the surrounding buildings cracked and fell into rubble as if the world itself recoiled.

  Another arm surged from the stone, coiling upward and carrying Milo aloft. The summoned beast rose with him — a vast, serpentine terror with the face of a dragon and limbs that writhed like endless serpents, each arm longer than the buildings it crushed. The air was filled with the sound of scales grinding, claws rending, and a thousand serpents roaring in unison.

  And above it all, Milo.

  The second arm lifted him to its shoulder, cradling him like a throne. His wand leveled unshakably at the captive’s head. His eyes narrowed to slits. His breath did not stir. His entire frame was carved in stillness.

  His wand leveled unshakably at the captive’s head. His eyes narrowed to slits. His breath did not stir. His entire frame was carved in stillness.

  He was a statue carved to kill.

  “You,” Milo said, his voice carrying like a verdict. “Do you like circuses?”