The day she's been waiting for is here.
The sky above the Enforcement Bureau was a flat, dull gray, thick with early morning haze. A cold wind swept through the courtyard where five recruits stood in a straight line—silent and still, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
Around them, officers from different units gathered quietly along the edges, exchanging low murmurs. At the far end, on a raised platform, senior officials stood assembled. A woman stepped forward. Her presence immediately hushed the crowd.
Director Althea Rynn.
Her uniform was sharp and simple, marked only by the Bureau's insignia—a silver shield crossed by a black sword. Her black hair was pulled back tightly, and her eyes locked on the recruits with a steady, serious gaze."You've been told what this Bureau is," she began, her voice clear and firm. "But let me remind you."
She paused, letting the words sink in. "We are not soldiers. We are not diplomats. We are not typical law enforcement," as she scanned the recruits carefully.
"The Enforcement Bureau was created to handle what others cannot—or will not. Vampiric activity. Rogue hybrids. Class X threats. The cases that fall through cracks of jurisdiction or fear."
The courtyard quieted further.
"We don't fully exist on paper. If we did, we'd be bogged down in red tape and denials." Her voice grew stronger. "That's why this Bureau is elite. We act when no one else can. We go where no one else dares. Every choice you make from now on will protect people who may never know your name."
Her eyes rested on the five recruits. "Today, you stop training. You become our blade in the dark."
She raised a hand and began outlining the Bureau's divisions.
"There are four primary divisions, each with a clear focus."
"Tactical Division: frontline engagement and containment. High risk, combat-focused, requiring strict discipline."
"Intelligence Division: gathering and analyzing data—surveillance, intercepted messages, case histories. Your mind is your weapon."
"Field Investigation Unit: working across divisions, gathering real-time intelligence, responding first to incidents, connecting evidence. Expect long hours and unpredictable work."
"Research & Development Division: behind the scenes. Developing tools, studying vampiric mutations, handling forensics. You build the Bureau's future."
She let the recruits take it in.
"These divisions do not operate in isolation. Coordination is constant. Your work will intersect with others—sometimes in ways you don't expect. Adaptability and cooperation will determine your success."
Her tone was firm."You will be tested beyond what any training could prepare you for."
She stepped back as another officer approached the platform. He was tall, composed, and formal—the one handling assignments.
"You have all been evaluated across a range of criteria—combat aptitude, analytical thinking, field simulations, psychological resilience, and decision-making under pressure," he said precisely. "Your assignments reflect those results. You may accept or contest your placements, pending approval."
He opened the folder and began reading names.
"Trainee Amara Veil. Assigned: Research and Development."
A woman with tightly curled dark hair stepped forward. There was a quiet elegance to her, poised and composed, her eyes sharp with focus.
"I request the Intelligence Unit," she said evenly.
A brief pause followed. A few officers exchanged glances, but no one spoke.
"Acknowledged." The officer stated.
"Trainee Darren Holt. Assigned: Field Investigation."
A broad-shouldered man stepped forward. Buff and confident, "Tactical," he responded without hesitation.
"Acknowledged."
"Trainee Lira Vayne. Assigned: Tactical."
Lira stepped forward, her voice steady.
"Field Investigation, Sir." As she bowed.
The officer gave a curt nod. "Acknowledged."
The last two names were called. One accepted Research and Development, the other confirmed Tactical. No objections.
With a snap of the folder, the officer stepped back. Director Rynn returned to the front.
"Seems some of you have your own ideas about where you belong."
Her voice was level—measured. Neither approving nor critical, but unmistakably firm.
She let the words settle like a loaded weapon on the table.
"That choice has been noted. Whether it proves to be insight—or error—will become clear soon enough."
Her eyes swept over them, steady and unyielding.
"From this point on, the Bureau doesn't operate on preference. It operates on performance. You will be judged by outcomes, not intentions."
A pause. Then, she raised a crisp salute, posture sharp and precise.
"Dismissed."
The officer's call rang through the courtyard. The recruits moved away, some in groups. Lira eyes lingered briefly, glancing at the others. Then she spotted a familiar figure across the courtyard.
Elias.
He leaned casually against a pillar, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. Their eyes met briefly, and he gave a smile and small, silent nod. Lira returned the nod, feeling a quiet sense of resolve settle over her. As the ceremony ended, the recruits were guided to their respective divisions. Some exchanged quiet words, while others moved in thoughtful silence.
Lira followed a tall, broad-shouldered man down a long corridor lined with reinforced windows. "This way," he said without looking back.
They entered a spacious room lit by harsh fluorescent lights. The walls were lined with maps, pinned-up case files, and multiple monitors displaying surveillance feeds and data streams. A long table sat in the center, cluttered with open folders, coffee cups, and half-eaten snacks. A few officers moved through the space efficiently—focused, serious. It wasn't a place for idle chatter.
The man turned to face her.
"I'm Daxon Valehart," he said, extending a hand. "Congratulations on joining Field Investigation."
Lira shook his hand firmly. "Thank you, sir."
"I'll be your direct supervisor," Daxon said. "You saw the division head at the ceremony—but don't expect to see them often. They tend to stay behind the scenes."
Lira glanced away briefly, her thoughts stirring. Ah… those must've been the four standing behind the directors just now—one of them has to be ours. There'd been a quiet weight to their presence, watchful, unreadable.
"Don't worry too much. You'll meet them when the time comes."
Then, he asked, "Tactical team actually selected you. What drew you to Field Investigation?"
Lira held his gaze firmly. "I want to be there from the very start, piecing together the clues and uncovering the truth behind every case—not just reacting to what's already happened. The Field Investigation unit gives me the chance to see the whole picture."
Daxon nodded thoughtfully.
"Field work isn't easy. You'll spend long hours chasing leads, dealing with messy scenes, and working with incomplete information. You'll need patience and sharp instincts."
"I'm ready," she said.
"Good. We'll put that to the test soon enough."
He gestured toward the room.
"This is your workspace. You'll be working alongside three others here—the core of this team. We have five more officers assigned, but they're currently tied up on different cases."
Lira glanced around, spotting the others.
A woman with blond hair and sharp eyes was scanning a tablet, her posture tense but controlled. Nearby, a man leaned over a stack of documents, quietly muttering to himself. Another man was adjusting a camera feed, his face expressionless.
Daxon continued, his tone more serious.
"Field Investigation is demanding. Our turnover rate is high—roughly the same number of recruits join and leave each year. Most who leave don't make it back."
His gaze drifted to a board filled with photos and notes. Lira followed his eyes, seeing the faces pinned there—silent reminders of those lost in the line of duty.
"Casualties come mostly from Tactical and Field operations. This place isn't just a job—it's a test of survival and resolve. That's something you need to keep in mind, every day."
Lira swallowed but didn't look away.
"Understood, sir."
Daxon nodded once more.
"Now, get settled. We have your first briefing shortly."
As he walked away, Lira took a steadying breath and glanced around the room again. This was no longer training.
The real work.
And… Her real chance to uncover the truth she'd been chasing.