The map Talwyn carried was far from precise. It had been reconstructed from memory, patched together using fragments of outdated blueprints and half-deciphered archive records, leaving gaps that required as much intuition as navigation. Even so, it was enough. If they followed the service tunnels beneath the old infirmary, they would eventually reach the western perimeter, where the surveillance charms had long since decayed into useless remnants.
It was the closest thing they had to an exit.
They moved through the corridor beneath Wing C in tense silence, the flickering enchanted lights overhead casting long, unsteady shadows that seemed to cling to the stone walls. Caelum led at the front, his presence quiet but steady, the air around him carrying a faint, unnatural warmth. The fire within him remained contained, but it never truly stilled.
Behind him, the others followed in tight formation, closer than necessary, as though instinct alone warned them not to let distance form between them. They had already accepted the risks that came with what they were doing, but acceptance did not dull the tension coiling in their chests.
Even so, none of them expected resistance this soon
A figure stepped into the corridor just as they rounded the bend.
A Greystone enforcer.
Broad-shouldered, scarred, his expression still heavy with sleep—but his hand was already moving toward his wand.
Julian reacted first, his voice cutting cleanly through the tension as he spoke a single word, low but unnaturally firm, "Stop."
The moment seemed to tighten around that command. The enforcer's movement faltered just slightly, as though something in the flow of intent had been disrupted, and that hesitation was all the opening they needed
For a fraction of a second, the enforcer hesitated—his movement catching, just slightly, as though something in the moment had slipped out of alignment.
It was enough.
Talwyn slammed into him from the side, driving his shoulder into the man's ribs. Heat flared instinctively with the impact, a brief surge that bled into the air before collapsing back under control.
Mara followed, her voice sharp. "Left—now!"
A weak stunner flashed past the enforcer's guard. Lina added another, less precise but enough to force his balance off-center.
The man staggered.
Caelum stepped forward, heat already gathering in his hands, but Talwyn moved faster, grabbing a jagged piece of loose stone from the ground and striking the enforcer cleanly across the temple. The man dropped without another sound, his body collapsing heavily against the cold floor.
For a brief moment, the group froze, as though waiting for something else to happen.
When nothing did, Mara moved first, crouching beside the fallen enforcer and quickly searching his belt before pulling free his wand.
"Got it," she said, holding it up.
Caelum's hand lifted instinctively toward it, but he stopped himself before his fingers could close around the wood. Giving it to one of the others would serve them better; they needed to share what little advantage they had instead of concentrating it in a single pair of hands, especially when they could not afford for any one of them to fall behind.
"Keep it," he said, lowering his hand. "We need to move."
No one argued. They broke into motion immediately, their pace quickening as they pushed deeper into the tunnels. The stone beneath their feet was cold and uneven, the sound of their steps echoing faintly before being swallowed by the oppressive stillness of the passage.
The further they went, the more that stillness began to feel unnatural.
Mara slowed slightly, her expression tightening as she glanced around the corridor. "There's nothing here," she murmured, her voice low but strained in a way that drew attention.
Julian glanced toward her. "Nothing?"
"No emotion, no trace of anyone passing through, nothing lingering at all," she said, her brow furrowing. "It's like this place has been emptied out completely."
Talwyn did not respond, but his shoulders tensed, a faint warmth flickering around him for a moment before he forced it back under control.
Caelum remained silent, but he understood what Mara meant. It was not simply that the tunnels were abandoned—it felt as though something had been deliberately stripped away, leaving behind a hollow absence where there should have been residual presence.
They reached a wider junction where the tunnel opened into a rough clearing, several paths branching outward into darkness. According to the map, the exit should have been close.
They slowed as they entered the space, their movement cautious.
Then they stopped.
The shadows ahead twisted.
There was no source for it, no shifting light to justify the movement. The darkness itself seemed to fold inward, distorting before stretching back into shape, as though something unseen was passing through it.
From that distortion, a figure emerged.
The robes were plain, brown, and unmarked, but the mask that covered the figure's face was smooth and seamless, made of black enchantment-glass that reflected the dim light in shifting, oil-like patterns.
Talwyn halted immediately, his body tightening as Mara raised the wand in a defensive reflex.
The agent moved before either of them could act.
A slicing hex tore through the air, striking the wall beside Julian's head in a burst of sparks, close enough that the heat brushed his skin. Before the group could recover, the agent's hand shifted again, releasing a wave of magic that rolled through the corridor and collapsed sound itself.
Their footsteps dulled. Their breathing quieted. Even the air seemed to muffle under the pressure of the spell.
Panic rose, sharp and immediate.
Caelum shoved Lina behind him, raising his hands. He felt the heat rising in his palms, the whisper of fire against his skin. But the others couldn't fight back the same way.
They were outmatched. And the agent knew it.
So that's why there are no one aside from first one we met, They weren't meant to escape, Caelum realized. They were being herded.
The agent stepped forward with measured precision, each movement controlled, deliberate, and entirely unhurried. The air around him seemed to tighten, magic held in a state of restrained pressure that pressed outward into the space.
Talwyn lunged in defiance, but the response was immediate. A force slammed into him mid-motion, lifting him from the ground and throwing him hard against the stone wall. He hit with a dull impact, the breath knocked from his lungs as he crumpled.
Mara tried to cast, raising the stolen wand, but it was torn from her grasp before the spell could form. An unseen force ripped it away and hurled it across the corridor, where it struck the wall with a sharp crack before skidding out of reach.
Julian inhaled sharply, his body tensing as though he were about to speak, something deeper than a simple command forming at the edge of his voice. For a brief moment, the air seemed to tighten again in anticipation, but whatever word he had been about to release faltered before it could take shape, collapsing back into silence.
The agent's attention shifted.
It settled directly on Caelum.
Not on his hands, not on his stance, but on him.
The recognition in that gaze was unmistakable, and with it came a colder understanding.
'He is the focusing on me.'
The heat inside him flared.
Caelum didn't move.
His body buzzed with fire, humming just under the skin—ready to ignite. The corridor stank of burned stone and tension. Behind him, Mara had already moved toward Talwyn, checking his condition, while Lina remained silent, her presence small but tense. Julian stood near the wall, eyes searching the space as though there might still be a way out that none of them had seen.
There wasn't.
The agent raised a hand, not in attack, but in pause, and when he spoke, his voice emerged filtered and smooth, stripped of identity.
"This isn't necessary."
Caelum met his gaze without hesitation. "Then stop chasing us."
The agent tilted his head slightly. "You misunderstand," he said. "You are not the target, Caelum Sanguine. You are the asset."
The word lingered, heavy with implication.
Julian flinched faintly at it, as though the language itself carried weight.
Caelum's expression did not change. "And them?"
"Collateral," the agent replied evenly. "Unless you choose otherwise."
The silence that followed pressed in from all sides.
"You have already caused significant disruption," the agent continued. "An enforcer incapacitated. Ministry detection nearly triggered. Under internal protocols, that is sufficient cause for removal."
His tone remained calm, precise.
"But if you surrender, the others will be spared."
Caelum stood still, considering.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Belief is irrelevant," the agent said. "Outcome is not."
He gestured faintly behind Caelum, toward the others struggling to recover.
"Come quietly, and they walk free. Resist, and I take you regardless. Burned or breathing. No one else leaves this tunnel."
The words settled like a closed door.
Caelum glanced back briefly.
Mara was bleeding. Talwyn could barely move. Julian stood on the edge of something unstable, and Lina—Lina was not ready to endure another capture.
They were not prepared for this.
They were not strong enough.
Not yet.
He turned back toward the agent.
"And me?" he asked.
"Containment," the agent replied. "You are required elsewhere."
The fire within him surged again, stronger now, pressing against his restraint, urging him to act, to fight, to burn through the obstacle in front of him.
But his thoughts remained clear.
Controlled.
Deliberate.
"Choose," the agent said.
Time seemed to narrow.
One breath.
Then another.
Caelum lifted his hands slowly, the motion steady despite the tension coiled beneath his skin.
"I'll choose," he said quietly.
And in that moment—
he did.