The Hedonas command center never really closed for sleep. The big, dark room murmured with the faint whirl of cooling fans, the faint click of keyboards, and the intermittent murmur of analysts swapping notes even at 11 p.m. Live data feeds—satellite overlays of Perpa City, thermal maps of known curse hotspots, and a dedicated window monitoring the faint energy signature of Sky Boys Island (now virtually invisible thanks to Ema's updated protocol)—glowed on several wall screens. Though professional, the mood was strained; everyone knew the stakes had shot up dramatically in the previous week.
Arms crossed over his wide chest, Darkas stood at the front of the long conference table, his customary commanding presence filling the room without him having to speak.
Meha was to his right, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and fingers steepled as he examined the screens. Jellal typed quickly while seated at the console; glasses reflected the blue glow of several screens. Arms folded, Ultema rested against the rear wall and missed nothing with his keen vision. Nemo sat still at the far end of the table, a little notebook open in front of him, and Pero stood a little away near the coffee station, nursing a fresh cup as he tried to process the events of the day.
Darkas was the first to break the silence; his voice was quiet and controlled. "One week. Seven days after Florka strolled onto Sky Boys Island as though he owned the place, Orced's crew has seen three additional verified B-class and two C-class takedowns. They are not slowing down. They're speeding."
Meha nodded without glancing from the screen. "They are pushing their boundaries. The most forceful statement thus far from Perpa was the A-class. Rengan wasn't a major threat, yet they treated him as one. They did the same for two B/C class curses as well. This is not erratic hunting anymore. This communicates something."
Jellal fixed his glasses and opened another window. "Meha is correct. Their efficiency is getting better. From initial contact to core annihilation, the last B-class took eleven minutes. The one before that needed fourteen. They are evolving, learning, and refining. And Orced is right in the middle of everything. These kids are playing a long game; the black-haired one is something I can't read yet, and the white-haired one is still mysterious."
Ultema snorted from the back. "Kids? Kruna is twenty-seven and Orced is twenty-nine going on thirty, though they look akin to high schoolers. To me, Orced seems a bit odd, but he is running a floating island S-class cult. His lovely smile should not cause you to undervalue him."
Nemo tapped his pen on his notebook. But last week Pero's report from the café raised questions. "Orced was unduly rational. Too amiable. He proposed a neutral encounter as though it were the most obvious thing ever. Simply let's discuss. That sort of tranquility may be harmful."
But he slowly drank his coffee; the warmth wasn't helping much to soothe the knot in his gut. "He was shockingly ordinary. When questioned regarding my job, told a few innocuous tales about island training and even made fun of his colleagues. Behind the eyes, though, something lay. As if he were constantly evaluating me. Testing how far he could push without breaking the friendly act."
Meha eventually reclined back, his tactical brain obviously going through dozens of situations. "That's the trend I've previously noted. Eight years ago, while I was still in field operations, I recall a case. One little rogue curse cell in the southern mountains. The Veil was their name. Under the direction of a man named Kael. attractive, sensible, constantly smiling. During discussions, he persuaded three different Hedonas teams to pull back. Said all the correct things. We want only to be left alone. We are not harming anyone. Three weeks after that, they then ambushed a full supply convoy. There are forty-three dead. Kael had been utilizing the 'talks' to mark weak areas and plan our patrol routes. Orced reminds me of him. Same greeting. Same peaceful voice. Same way of making you feel like you're the illogical one for not trusting him."
For a moment the room was silent, Meha's words still echoing heavily in the air. Everyone knew him to be the tactical genius who had turned around more projects than anyone cared to tally. Within Hedonas, his prior cases were nearly legendary: cold, calculating, constantly three steps ahead.
Darkas nodded deliberately. Meha is correct on this front. We view Orced as a serious risk. None at all. One cannot underestimate the allure. You are still going to the meeting tomorrow though?
But he placed his coffee on the table. Indeed. Orced observed public place, neutral territory. I'll keep it light. Sense him out. Check whether there is any genuine chance for conversation.
Nemo glance up from his notebook. Should you need backup, I will accompany you. Not during the conference itself, but nearby. Distance lets me observe. Long enough that I understand your cues, we have collaborated.
But he smiled gratefully, little though it was. I would value that highly. You always know when to intervene without drawing attention.
The two men exchanged a silent look, the kind of relaxed friendship born of years of working together and late-night debriefs. Nemo was the only person Pero could talk to without filters; he understood the ethical gray areas of their job better than anyone else in the room.
Darkas kept on. "A whole support crew will be waiting. Meha, you manage the surveillance. Jellal, layer the drone coverage. Ultema, get emergency extraction plans ready should events turn ugly. Though we're not starting a conflict tomorrow, we're d-- well going to be ready should one breaks out. The meeting dragged on another forty minutes—detailed plans, backup systems, possible situations. Meha related yet another short story from his past—a situation in which a apparently calm curse diplomat had transported cursed objects into Hedonas strongholds through polite talks."
Meha remarked the phrases were pleasant but the aim was poison. "Orced has the same polished surface. We meticulously peel it back."
Pero and Nemo walked out into the calmer corridor outside the command center as the meeting came to a close. The hallway was poorly lit, and the building's systems hummed continuously in the background.
With arms crossed, Nemo leaned against the wall. "Are you anxious about tomorrow?"
But shrugged, passing a hand through his hair. "Slightly. Orced is difficult to read. Though he grins as if he means it, something else is underneath. Like he's always three moves ahead and having fun playing. I find myself dwelling on Meha's remarks. The ammunition is the weapon here."
Nemo nodded off. "I shall be there. We shall accomplish it."
Pero smiled very little. "Thank you. You certainly do."
Pero's phone vibrated in his pocket precisely at that moment. He took it out and saw a fresh message from an unidentified number: Orced.