The sun dawns over the skyline, casting golden rays that tower over the glass skyscrapers. Kiara glides off the staircase, landing with a thunderous thud. The table rattles as her head bumps into the table leg.
"There's this thing called stairs," Evander says, walking forward. He clutches his head, exactly where Kiara landed.
"Sliding is fun. You should try it," Kiara jokes, patting down the dust off her clothes.
"No," Evander says bluntly. "You're way too upbeat and hyper in the morning."
A few minutes later, he pours her a cereal bowl, and the two sit across from each other on the circular table.
"So," Evander says, taking a large bite out of his cereal. "Got any plans on this assassin problem with your grandfather?"
"Nope. No idea. None," Kiara exaggeratedly answers. "Grandpa must really have bad friends."
"Does that not raise any eyebrows?" Evander raises his brow. "Just having a title alone is not worthy enough to make you kill worthy."
"But he's 'the Mothman, '" Kiara says, pointing her spoon . "I don't understand why Grandpa doesn't like that title. It's kind of badass."
Evander frowns, taking another bite. "It's really not."
"This cereal is so sweet, Kiara. This rots your teeth."
"Really, a man from the Roman Empire cares about dental health," Kiara grins, stirring her cereal. "You'll be fine."
"The Roman Empire had decent teeth," Evander squints. "At least they didn't fill everything with—" he looks at the contents. "Fourteen grams per serving? This is a desert."
"Who cares? We live. We age. We die," Kiara raises her hand dramatically. "Good food is worth dying over."
"That's not a good thing," Evander cuts back. "Have you found anything to break the soul–bound?"
"No," Kiara says, taking a bite. "I got too distracted with school. The assassin's plot. Warden society, that I just forgot."
"We're stuck like this buddy, for a while."
"That's awful," Evander presses his lips together, draping his arm over the chair. "We'll be safe with the assassin's plot. Find out who's trying to kill him."
Kiara points to herself with a thumbs up. "I got it."
Just then, Edward slowly leaves his study room, catching the two at the dinner table. "Oh. You two get up early." His smile was tired yet gentle.
"Yup," Evander says, tilting his head back. "Hope you stay alive."
Edward presses his lips, grabbing the car keys from the kitchen. He takes a long yawn, the kind that sounds like he hasn't slept in years. Kiara trails behind him, hands tucked in her pockets.
"Try not to burn the house while we're gone," She says dramatically with mock seriousness. "It's yours, king."
Evander chews slowly, unimpressed.
[American Warden Temple]
The recruits walk along the courtyard, discussing last night's incident.
"We got attacked by an acid manipulation user," one boy says. "Can you believe that?"
"He defeated two of our top wardens," another explains, shaking his head.
As the voices converged on each other, only one thought rose about the other–Are we safe anymore?
The Arbiter looks over the recruits, standing on a stone balcony. He is accompanied by a short, grey, brown-haired man dressed in a tactical streamlined uniform. His fingers twitch around his cane.
"Can you explain this current situation?" The Arbiter turns his gaze, still fixated on the recruits below him.
"The kids acting like scared chickens?" the man arches his brow, slamming his cane like a gavel.
[Surveillance Corp Director–Quincy Harlow]
"Yes, that," the Arbiter cuts back, clipped with irritation.
"Well, it's what Zhang suggested—a mole," Quincy shrugs his shoulders. "He probably hacked into our database. Probably why the corp never saw a threatening figure walking to the Warp hub on camera."
The Arbiter's gaze drops.
"Frankly, I'm surprised that it took this long to be infiltrated," Quincy says, walking forward, looking at the sight below. "It's not that hard to break in here. Someone's gotta peek under the mask sooner or later."
The Arbiter moves his wrinkly finger under the dusty balcony railing.
"Someone's got to maintain control here," he says, folding his arms behind his back. "If a single assassin can break in–that means anyone can."
"That means the same thing," Quincy retorts.
The Arbiter's smirk drops. He presses his lips together, exhaling slowly.
Later, inside the Senior Suite, a different conversation unfolds.
"Ah, coffee. First thing in the morning, Edward twists and turns, grabbing the cup off the machine.
"You should not have coffee first thing in the morning," Zhang comments, looking over the reports. "It spikes your stress hormones."
He wraps his fingers around the tea kettle, pouring it for a little girl while keeping his eyes on the reports.
"Don't be like Corin," Edward says, sipping his cup, "She scares people with her diagnosis. More so, false ones."
"Should we go back to business about the assassin?" a silver-masked warden utters. He sits comfortably on the leather couch. Yet exudes a sense of authority.
"Anything valuable you managed to gain?"
[Hadden Ingram– Semi A rank]
The little girl sits in his lap, carefully sipping the hot tea.
"Nothing much," Zhang replies. "Most of it is just clues and speculation."
"The assassin Thomas Maloum mentioned a man called Hanger," Edward carefully sits down. "Another assassin that appeared on our radars yesterday."
Alwin Dubois slowly turns his gaze.
"If he worked with Hanger, then he likely worked with the female assassin at the Central Perk mall," the old man continues.
"Two targets—Kiara and Adam," Zhang cuts in, placing his palms on his table. "Not the ones that attacked Edward."
The assistant managers stand tall in the corners, listening in on their conversation. The Emissary, disguised as one of the managers, narrows his gaze.
"Hanger got run over," Alwin frowns, reading through the report. "The female assassin–Adam kicked her off a balcony."
"Brutal children," Hadden chuckles, his voice reverberating through his silver mask. "Young violent ones. However, they're not reckless."
"Are we forgetting that Adam kicked a woman off a balcony?" Zhang leans forward, brow raised. He looks through the paper like a magician flipping through cards.
"Apparently, he threw a can at the body because he didn't know she was dead."
"She tried to kill him. He was protecting his friend," Hadden claps his hands together, a small seismic boom rings out. "What's so wrong about that?"
Zhang's lips pressed against each other, arching his brow.
"Sorry, but all I hear is initiative with moral conviction," Hadden says low yet defiantly. "They're not reckless. Didn't seek violence. They chose who to protect when seconds mattered. They're ready."
"Let's not pretend it didn't cost anything," Edward interjects, legs crossed.
"Yes, they saved each other, but not every brutal action is an initiative. I won't condemn nor celebrate it."
Zhang stays quiet, wrapping his arms behind his back. He slowly paces around the room, dragging his finger on the leather couches, lost in thought. Alwin crosses his legs, tipping the brim of his hat.
"I'll discuss everything and continue this conversation with the High Council and the Arbiter later today," Zhang says.
Alwin frowns. "And what are they going to discuss?"
"Much of it would overlap with what we debated," Zhang explains. "However, it would mostly be about how we proceed from this point on."
Edward crosses his arms, eyes sharp. Hadden taps his silver mask in a rhythm.
"So it's just you and the high council?" Edward questions. "Any outsider opinions?"
"Only a few outside opinions," Zhang calmly assures.
Edward shifts in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.
"If we're going to spend our time rehashing the same conclusions, then we need to know who's steering this," his eyes lifted towards Zhang, searching for any hesitation.
"More perspectives mean better outcomes."
"Too many voices can slow down decisions," Zhang cuts back. "We don't need too many external viewpoints."
Edward presses his lips thin. Alwin's gaze narrows. Hadden's shoulders stiffened. A few coughs cut through the stillness.
"Well, I uhh," Hadden says, easing the tension. "Let's let Zhang handle things. Politics is not our role anyway."
"Maybe I should join as well," Edward suggests. "You and I both fought the assassin. Shouldn't I get a say?" Hadden raises his arms, completely ignored.
"You're free to voice your opinion here," Zhang's tone sharpens. "That does not mean you're strategic enough to sit with the council."
"And why is that?" Edward frowns, his eyes narrow. "You are too focused that I might not be good enough to make decisions."
The assistant managers hold their breath.
"What?" Zhang says. He pauses, as if considering whether to hold back. "You aren't qualified for objectivity. You are shaped by nostalgia and guilt."
The air tightens.
"How about you control your need for control first?" Edward shoots back.
The young girl stops sipping on her hot tea cup. Hadden shifts uncomfortably. Alwin tips the brim, covering his gaze.
Silence stretches.
Hadden raises his palm.
"Okay, you two need to calm down. Let's take a breather."
Edward rises from the leather couch, straightening his suit. "Yeah, I'm good."
Alwin smirks, slowly following Edward out of the room. Zhang watches as everyone slowly disperses one by one. He snaps his fingers together, trying to soothe his nerves.
"Seven–six–eleven–five–nine," he mutters. "Four–Eleven–seventeen–thirty two."
[American temple's courtyard]
"We still haven't chosen what our powers could be," Kiara says, tapping her finger on the table.
Adam glances up, his broadsword slicing the dummy.
He ponders. "I think mimicry or bubble pulses."
"Interesting," Kiara lies on the table.
Edward walks forward. Adam puts down his sword, promptly excusing himself as he leaves the vicinity.
"What do you need, Grandpa?" Kiara questions.
"I need your help with something," Edward says, glancing at his surroundings.
"Sureee," Kiara lazily rises. "What do you want me to do?"
"I need you to shadow a meeting for me," Edward explains.
Kiara frowns. Her lips press together thinly. "Yeah, no."
Edward sighs, rubbing his temple. "You haven't let me finish yet."
"It sounds boring," Kiara says, stretching her shoulders.
"This meeting will discuss the events that happened yesterday–and the days before," Edward explains, trying to sound interesting. " You might learn a lot from how democracy works here. I promise you it's not as boring as it sounds."
"But like the Arbiter? The High Council?" Kiara frowns. "During my evaluation, I was getting a weird vibe from that guy."
"I know. Try to expand your thoughts out," Edward puts his hands on Kiara's shoulders, his voice softens just a fraction. "Please write down everything you find interesting or stuck with you. Just this once."
"M'kay," Kiara says, shrugging her shoulders. She leaves the courtyard, her steps against the last. Edward's expression drops for just a second, eyes following his every movement.