Luke carefully picked out a standard, reliable handgun from the weapons section. After that, he reached out and selected the 3rd Ring of the Deep Sea.
The secretary stood perfectly still, but her eyes widened in clear surprise. She looked at the incredibly powerful ice artifacts just a few feet away, and then looked back at the ring Luke had chosen. She clearly did not understand why an ice power user would choose a ring with a mysterious, weak suppression effect over a premium corporate weapon.
However, she was a professional. She did not ask any further questions. She simply nodded, placed the ring and the gun into a secure carrying case, and handed it to him.
"Please follow me," she said. "It is time for you to meet the Director."
The secretary led Luke out of the vault and toward a private elevator. They went up several floors until they reached a highly secure area of the building. The sign on the glass doors read: Department of Strategic Risk Containment Division.
The secretary knocked on a heavy oak door and opened it.
Sitting behind a massive desk was the Department Head, Director Silas. He was a sharp-looking man in a perfectly tailored suit. His eyes were cold, calculating, and highly intelligent.
"Come in, Luke. Take a seat," Director Silas said, pointing to a chair.
The secretary bowed and left the room.
Director Silas folded his hands on his desk. "I will get straight to the point. You have a unique set of skills, and you know how the Bureau operates. Because of this, I am making you the Field Leader of our newest strike team."
Luke nodded slowly. Being the team leader gave him authority, which was exactly what he needed.
Luke's team would be tasked with handling Bureau interference, monitoring pressure points where Silver Moon's business operations came under scrutiny, and responding when legal or covert friction escalated into something operational. The team would have the necessary support members to function independently.
Director Silas handed Luke a secure keycard. "Your team already has the necessary members to operate. They are waiting for you now. Go meet them. I will give you your first official assignment tomorrow morning."
Luke said goodbye to the director
The secretary led him again through another corridor and finally stopped in front of a set of double doors at the end of a quieter wing.
Unlike the rest of the upper tower, this section felt grounded.
Less polished.
More used.
The walls were plain. The floor had none of the decorative shine found elsewhere. The air smelled faintly of coffee, dust, electronics, and paper.
The secretary pressed her credentials to the wall panel.
The doors opened.
Inside was a medium-sized conference room with a long table in the center, several chairs, and a wall-mounted display showing a map of the city marked with different colors and symbols. Winter light filtered through a narrow window, pale and sharp against the room's otherwise practical feel.
Five people were already inside.
Luke's gaze moved across them quickly, the old habit returning before he could stop it. Years in the Bureau had trained him to assess first and think later.
The first was a woman in her early thirties with sharp features and darker skin. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and she wore a fitted black jacket over a simple blouse. Her posture was rigid—too controlled to be ordinary office discipline. Military, or close to it. A pair of thin-framed glasses rested on her face, but Luke doubted they were necessary. Her eyes moved subtly and constantly, taking in exits, positions, distances, hands.
Counter-surveillance or intelligence.
The second was a man around Luke's own age, broad-shouldered and solidly built. Not the exaggerated size of a gym addict, but the compact strength of someone who had carried weight and lived in his body rather than sculpted it. His face was plain enough to be forgettable at first glance, which in itself was useful. Close-cropped hair. A scar through the left eyebrow. Hands loose at his sides, but ready.
Luke noted the calluses and the balance of his stance.
That man knew violence.
The third was younger—mid-twenties perhaps—with pale skin and messy dark hair. He was slouched in his chair with a tablet in front of him, looking like someone who had been awake too long and cared too little about appearances to hide it. His eyes were bloodshot, whether from exhaustion or overwork it was hard to say.
A tech type, almost certainly.
The fourth man was older, somewhere in his fifties, with gray-streaked hair and the sort of weathered face that did not belong in polished corporate towers. He wore a cardigan over a collared shirt, and at first glance he seemed almost harmless.
Almost.
People who appeared harmless within dangerous organisations were rarely harmless.
The fifth member stood out differently from the rest.
He had a powerful physical build and the presence of a frontline fighter. Broad chest, thick arms, and the subtle tension of a man used to relying on his own body before anything else. Luke could feel that this one was an awakened power user even before anyone said it.
But something about him was off.
Not weak.
Not exactly unstable either.
Just… wrong in a way Luke couldn't define at first glance.
The secretary stepped forward.
"Everyone, this is Luke," she said. "He'll be joining your team as the field lead. The Director will give your assignment tomorrow."
Then she turned slightly toward Luke.
"I'll leave you to introduce yourselves."
With that, she left. The doors closed behind her with a soft click.
Silence filled the room for a moment.
Then the older man smiled.
It was a genuine smile—warm enough to soften his weathered face and make him seem almost grandfatherly, though Luke knew better than to trust first impressions.
"Welcome," the older man said. "Have a seat. We're all new to this team, so introductions are in order regardless."
Luke took an empty chair near the middle of the table.
The older man gestured to himself first.
"I'm Victor. Retired Bureau analyst. These days, I consult on pattern recognition and threat assessment. The Director brought me in to handle the strategic side of things—figuring out what the Bureau is planning before they do it."
Luke gave a small nod.
Analyst.
That mattered.
A good analyst could destroy an operation without ever lifting a weapon.
Victor turned slightly toward the sharp-featured woman.
"This is Nadia. Former military intelligence. Counter-surveillance, infiltration, shadow work, all the unpleasant things best done quietly."
Nadia's eyes met Luke's for only a moment.
Measured.
Cool.
Assessing.
Then Victor continued.
"The gentleman with the tablet is Felix. Technical specialist. Communications, network security, electronic surveillance, digital breach work."
Felix looked up and gave a lazy wave.
"Hey."
Victor gave him a faintly reproving look.
Felix sighed and sat up a little straighter.
"Right. I do computers. Networks. Security systems. Data extraction. And the occasional illegal thing nobody officially asked me to do."
Victor ignored that and moved on.
"Marcus," he said, nodding toward the broad-shouldered man.
Marcus spoke for himself.
"Logistics and transport."
His voice was deep and rough, like he didn't use it unless necessary.
Victor added, "Former military supply sergeant. Ten years. If something needs to move quietly, he'll find a way."
Marcus gave a short nod and nothing more.
Then Victor looked toward the last man.
"This is Rowan," he said.
Rowan gave Luke a short nod.
Unlike the others, he didn't seem interested in formalities. His face was stern, and when he spoke, his voice was blunt and low.
"Frontline combat."
Luke returned the nod, but his attention stayed on him a moment longer.
Rowan had the build of a close-range fighter—broad chest, thick arms, heavy shoulders, the kind of body made to take impact and return it harder. He was clearly a physical-type awakener.
But that wrongness was still there.
There was power in him.
A lot of it, actually.
Yet the feeling was uneven, like a blade forged in the right shape but tempered the wrong way. His presence carried force, but not the clean, natural pressure of someone who had truly completed a second awakening.
Victor seemed to notice Luke noticing.
He smiled faintly and said, "You probably felt it."
Luke said nothing.
Victor continued anyway.
"Rowan is a physical-type power user. Officially, he's listed as having reached a false second awakening."
The room remained quiet.
Victor spoke in the calm tone of someone explaining a difficult truth everyone present had already accepted.
"A power user gets three years after their first awakening to meet the minimum condition for the second. If they fail within that period, then in most cases, natural advancement becomes impossible."
Luke already knew that, but he let Victor continue.
"Some people refuse to accept that limit," Victor said. "So they use potions, catalysts, forced advancement procedures—anything that can push power to evolve artificially. It creates something similar to a second awakening, at least on the surface."
Felix leaned back slightly and muttered, "A bad imitation, basically."
Victor ignored him.
"The power changes. It grows. Sometimes quite dramatically. But the Will of the World does not recognize it as a true awakening. Because of that, it comes with flaws."
Rowan's expression hardened slightly, but he remained silent.
Victor's tone contained no pity.
Only precision.
"The advancement is incomplete. There are always shortcomings. Lower efficiency. Reduced stability. Poorer synchronization between body and power. Sometimes side effects. Sometimes long-term limits that can never be corrected."
He glanced toward Luke.
"Rowan forced himself forward when nature would no longer open the door. That makes him dangerous in some ways. Unstable in others. But useful, especially in direct combat."
Rowan finally spoke again, his tone flat.
"I hit hard enough. That's what matters."
Marcus gave the faintest nod, as if that alone was enough explanation.
Luke looked at Rowan for another second before replying.
"As long as you know your limits."
Rowan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I know them better than anyone."
That ended the matter.
Victor folded his hands lightly on the table, and the introductions moved on.
Luke introduced himself after that, keeping it simple. There was no need to oversell his Bureau background. They already knew enough.
The meeting did not last much longer.
It was more of an acknowledgement than a briefing.
Luke left the building later than expected, the winter sky already darkening toward evening.
His first day inside Silver Moon had gone better than it should have.
And confirmed that Silver Moon intended to place him exactly where the story had suggested.
Luke decided to return home for the day and begin real work tomorrow.