Inside the ceiling glowed with a sourceless, lifeless light that made the lobby feel like a gullet of some giant, prehistoric beast. Like what the heck.

  Kai stood rooted, his boots scuffing the polished floor, while the grey and black uniforms of the people inside the beast blurred past him. They moved with a terrifying, synchronized... practiced grace—Just like he had done in the past.

  Then the crowd split. Not like the sudden shove by a giant, but like a fluid parting of the sea for a single threat. Just then, a woman in smoke-grey leathers cut across the floor, her tunic unbuttoned low to her chest and her skirt cinched tight at the waist.

  Guess women can't resist, even in this world. And she moved with a swaying grace, her heavy black hair swinging as her gaze tracked the man’s movement, as if she just wanted to give him a quick lick.

  Then her expression shifted from a sharp curiosity to a slow, private smile that never once flickered toward Kai.

  The man also passed Kai without a glance, but then stopped. The man pivoted as though one of his pawns was put at the wrong position.

  "You’re blocking the entrance." His voice was flat, echoing the hollowed-out silence of the upper rafters.

  "There’s plenty of room—" Kai fought back.

  "You’re quite late." The man stepped into Kai’s space and up close, his eyes were unnervingly still, acting as twin mirrors that reflected Kai’s own rumpled collar and hesitant posture. "You’re Vane."

  "Yeah," Kai said, his spine locking. "And you are?"

  "Your handler."

  Kai opened his mouth but the air in his lungs felt thin like it ran away at the sight of this man, "I wasn't told... I’m a bit confused by the lack of direction."

  "So, to clarify. A senseless idiot who is also late on his first day?"

  "No, that’s—that’s just rude."

  "Then be someone who deserves the respect, will you?" The man was already turning, his heels clicking a dismissive beat against the stone yet it felt overly soft and silent, like he was some sort of a trained assassin.

  "Wait—" Kai scrambled to catch up, his heavy steps sounding clumsy against the man’s silence. "What’s your name?"

  "Caelix Varron. Let's move faster. We’re behind schedule; so don't make mistakes again."

  Then they hit the stairwell. Caelix didn't offer a tour, didn't point out to the labs or the archives; he simply ascended with a tireless, metronomic gait as though, Kai wasn't important enough to deserve something so 'prestigious' .

  By the second floor, the burn started in Kai’s calves. By the third, his breath hitched, ragged and loud in the narrow shaft. His injured ribs began to throb, sending sharp, hot needles through his side with every lungful of air.

  Caelix didn't even have the decency to be winded as his back was a straight, unbreakable line of fabric and bone throughout the journey. He looked like... he... went through a lot.

  The third floor swallowed their footsteps in dense, grey carpeting. The ambient hum of the facility died. At the end of the hall stood a door marked with a brass plate: DIRECTOR PELLAN QUIRE.

  Caelix stopped five feet short of the frame, gesturing forward with two fingers like a shephard guiding his sheeps.

  "So this is it? What happens... you know, if I reject the offer?" Kai asked, his voice sounding small against the dampening walls.

  Caelix stepped closer and it felt as if he was gonna squeeze my neck in anger. "The decision was made when you broke the seal on the envelope. You’re simply witnessing the result." He just simply said.

  Kai swallowed, his throat dry as parchment. He walked the remaining distance alone, the space between them feeling like a canyon. Behind him, Caelix stood perfectly still—a statue waiting for a command that hadn't been issued yet.

  The wood of the door was too solid, the grain too polished and Kai’s knuckles felt thin as he knocked.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  ?"Enter." A bold voice called out, like a commander ordering his lazy soldiers to stand up straight.

  He pushed inside, stepping into a vacuum of obsessive order. Every surface gleamed with a clinical, aggressive cleanliness—the kind of perfection that felt like a personal insult to anyone who had actually lived in the dirt of the outside world.

  ?An elegant secretary stood by the desk. She was angled toward her employer like a compass needle toward true north.

  Her hair was cinched into a knot so tight it looked painful, ensuring not a single strand dared to spool or breathe as if it were poisonous.

  Her face was a blank slate of professional neutrality. Kai looked at the rigid line of her shoulders and wondered if she’d ever let a child lie in her arms or if she even knew how to hold something that wasn't a clipboard. Probably not. Those hypothetical kids don't stand a chance.

  ?Pellan Quire sat behind the desk. The man at the top of the food chain, looking exactly like a power hungry corrupt king.

  ?“Sit,” Quire said.

  ?A command, not an invitation, as though a major crime had just went down. Kai sank into the chair. It was wooden, upright, and aggressively uncomfortable—the sort of "boomer" furniture designed to remind the sitter they were being tolerated, not hosted.

  ?The secretary remained a statue, her eyes fixed on Quire, waiting for a frequency only they shared.

  ?"Director Quire," she murmured. "Shall I be excused?"

  ?"Not yet. Does the guest require water?"

  ?Kai’s tongue felt like a dry piece of charcoal against the roof of his mouth. "Yes. Please."

  ?Quire didn't bother looking up. "Give him some water."

  ?The woman drifted out, leaving the room to settle into a silence that smelled of floor wax and the stale, suffocating scent of old paper. Quire flipped open a folder.

  Kai watched the pages turn, feeling the absurd cinematic weight of the moment. Like he was in a scene where the hero finally gets a chance to shine. except he wasn't the hero—he was the glitch.

  ?Quire’s eyes moved with a practiced, mechanical speed. As if he'd seen a thousand anomalies; and Kai was just the latest smudge on the record.

  ?"I am going to verify the record," Quire said. "Confirm or clarify. Understood?"

  ?Kai nodded. His neck felt stiff.

  Just a file. Surely I'm fine.

  ?"You have been designated a Continuity Anomaly by the Authority," Quire read, his voice flat and devoid of interest. "Under palace mandate, you are enrolled in this Syndicate for observation. Supervision will be conducted by myself and Varron."

  ?He finally looked up, and the air between them seemed to vanish. He looked as if he would twist Kai's neck and bash his head on the wooden table infront of him.

  ?"The Authority provided no further context for your status," he murmured, his eyes still boring into Kai's skull as if reading the very rhythm of his pulse. "Is there information missing from this file?”

  ?The door clicked. The secretary reappeared, placing a glass of chilled water on the desk before resuming her post as a human shadow.

  ?"Drink," Quire said.

  ?The water was so cold it hurt. It slid down Kai’s throat like an icicle, but the tightness in his chest wouldn't budge, it seemed like something was still hugging around his lungs. "There is nothing else to add." He finally managed to say.

  ?Quire picked up a pen. He made a single, precise stroke—a burial of the subject. "Understood." He closed the folder and stood, already finished with the human element of the room. "Varron will provide your deployment brief. You are dismissed."

  ?Kai stood, his legs feeling slightly hollow as though he was beaten countless times by a thick wooden chunk and then turned for the door.

  ?"Vane." Quire called out as he was already reaching for the next file.

  ?"If the situation becomes unstable, Varron is authorized to resolve the anomaly. Do not make that necessary."

  ?The coldness from the water finally hit Kai's stomach.

  Downstairs, Caelix was already there, a vertical blot against the office pillar.

  He was hunched over a scrap of paper, his eyes darting with a frantic, rhythmic precision like it was some sort of a love letter. Which made Kai’s own chest feel crowded.

  As Kai drew closer, the paper vanished—folded into a sharp, unforgiving square and shoved deep into a pocket. The secret stayed there, muffled by wool.

  “We’re moving to the Rust District,” Caelix said. He shoved off the pillar and started pacing, the sudden momentum forcing Kai into a clumsy, half-step shuffle to keep up.

  “For what?” Kai’s voice sounded thin against the wind tunneling through the corridor. “What are we doing there?”

  “Questions and Investigation.” Caelix didn't turn as he just walked with a locked-in stride, his shoulders a wall Kai wasn't invited to climb. “There is an irregularity in the sector.”

  The word 'irregularity' felt pounding, like a 'wake-up' slap to the face. Kai watched the back of Caelix’s head—into that same stubborn hairline from their first meeting, the same refusal to acknowledge the space Kai occupied.

  At the top of the stairs, the rhythm broke. Caelix stopped.

  When he turned, the familiar, suffocating boredom had drained from his face.

  His grey eyes were cold and sudden as if an apocalypse was sprouting behind Kai.

  “One involving the Royal Family.” Caelix paused, his gaze pinning Kai to the stone landing. “So try to stay within my line of sight, will you?”