The room was a cathedral of silence.
Glass walls framed the night skyline beyond, shadows of the city stretching endlessly below. Inside, the air was still, humming faintly with the buzz of encrypted monitors and the subtle thrum of surveillance feeds playing in the background.
Dmitri stood by the doorway, still in his coat, hands loosely at his sides.
Viktor didn't look up from his desk.
"Vitals?"
Dmitri stiffened slightly, then turned toward one of the monitors. He tapped a few commands into the screen, pretending it wasn't already committed to his memory.
"She's stable," he said, measured. "Baseline remains low. Lower than standard thresholds but consistent."
"Heart rate?"
"Resting pulse in the low forties. Spikes under stress, then drops rapidly. No arrhythmias."
"Cognitive function?"
"Hyperactive during sleep cycles. Theta surges more often than normal. REM is irregular. She's not sleeping much."
Viktor nodded slowly. "emotional?"
Dmitri hesitated.
"Not so good," he said at last. "but she absorbs before she reacts."
Viktor exhaled once, slow and steady.
"Her numbers are improving."
Dmitri turned toward him. "Yes."
"Is there a reason?"
Dmtri hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "She has outlets now. Control is easier when there's purpose."
Viktor's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Monitor her closely."
He didn't look at Dmitri as he said it. Just stared at the dark glass, the city lights blinking like distant signals.
"No changes in routine without my clearance. I want a full vitals and activity report every twelve hours."
Dmitri nodded, careful to keep his expression neutral.
"Understood."
"Make sure she's safe."
It was the way he said it that made Dmitri pause.
Not an order. Not a command barked down a chain of control. It sounded closer to something else.
Like he genuinely care.
Dmitri gave a short nod, voice steady.
"She always is."
Viktor looked away again, the flicker gone, the wall back up. His tone returned to steel.
"Good."
Then he reached for the next file and opened it.
"Chronos?"
"The Eye has a confirmed location."
Viktor's brow tensed. "Where is he?"
Dmitri tapped the console. A 3D schematic of a private campus flared to life.
Red Woods Academy.
"He's in the Philippines. Under a new identity. Eye confirms he's embedded himself at the school. We believe he's been using student access as a cover to continue leaking classified Olympus files."
Viktor's gaze swept over the projection. "How long?"
"Almost a year," Dmitri said. "But the data only started spiking in the last six months."
"And no one flagged this?"
"We had fragments. Not enough for confirmation. But now..." Dmitri leaned forward, voice low. "He's back."
Viktor's jaw tensed. "Has he compromised names?"
"We don't know. Yet."
Viktor didn't turn. "What's your plan?"
Dmitri stopped a few feet away, set the folder on the table. "We verify the target first."
Viktor glanced at him now.
"If we spook him, he vanishes," Dmitri said simply. "You know what he's capable of. We move too early, he burns everything and disappears for years."
Viktor's silence was agreement enough.
Dmitri opened the folder, revealing surveillance stills and data logs. "We insert someone. Quietly. A controlled operative who can get close and confirm without raising suspicion. Once we're certain it's him, we can authorize a strike."
Viktor didn't look up as he spoke again, fingers gliding across the touchscreen embedded in the desk.
"Pull up the agent rankings."
Dmitri hesitated for a second, then tapped a sequence into his own console. The screen projected a vertical list of operative codenames.
Viktor scanned it in silence.
At the top
ARES – Division I (The Bullets)
— Mission Success Rate: 99%
— Confirmed Kills: 97
— Rank: 01
"Still holding the top spot," Viktor murmured, more to himself than to Dmitri. "Impressive."
Dmitri gave a short nod. "He hasn't failed a mission."
"Send him to Red Woods" Viktor said flatly.
Dmitri hesitated. "Ares is a Bullet. He's designed for elimination, not surveillance. We need intel, I can pull someone from Eye."
"I don't need someone watching from the shadows. I need someone who won't fail."
Dmitri gave a short nod.
"Understood."
Dmitri didn't argue. Not out loud.
But inside, the calculation had already begun.
Ares. In Red Woods.
It was overkill by every standard.
Not because Ares would fail. He'a sure he wouldn't. That was the problem. He was built for decisive action, not slow-play infiltration.
Red Woods was a knot.
This wasn't a two-day op. Unraveling that would take time. Weeks, maybe months.
And Ares never stayed gone that long.
His thoughts were cut when Viktor spoke again.
"Any updates on Black Veil?"
"All agents assigned to Black Veil have failed to report in. We have to presume them dead. The operation remains in complete darkness. No communication, no intel. It's as if they vanished."
A flicker of impatience crossed Viktor's face, but his voice remained controlled
Viktor returned his attention to the screen. With a flick of his fingers, the rankings shifted, this time sorted by kill volume. A new name floated to the top of the list.
AZRAEL – Unclassified Division
— Missions Assigned: 6
— Confirmed Kills: 178
— Rank: Unclassified
Viktor's brow arched. "Only six missions?"
Dmitri's body went stiff. It was subtle, a flicker of tension, but he masked it fast with eutral voice and calm expression.
"She's... not assigned often," Dmitri said carefully.
"And yet she has the highest kill ratio of any operative in this entire organization," Viktor said, zooming into the file. "More kills than agents who've completed hundreds of assignments. Fascinating."
Viktor studied the file for a long moment. Then finally, he leaned forward and dismissed the display with a flick of his hand.
He tilted his head slightly. "Send her to Black Veil."
Dmitri's voice was quiet, but firm. "No."
The word hung between them like a blade.
Viktor slowly turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "No?"
"She's not ready," Dmitri said, calm but unwavering. "Azrael is unstable without supervision."
Viktor didn't answer, just looked at him closely as if trying to read what he's thinking.
Dmitri held his ground. "You want destruction. She'll give you that but she won't bring anything back."
"Good," Viktor said coldly. "There's nothing I want back from Black Veil except to see it buried for good."
"She's not the right fit for this mission. If you send her in without supervision, it won't be clean. It'll be a massacre."
Viktor's eyes narrowed slightly, calculating. "You're protecting her. Why?"
Dmitri didn't flinch. "I'm protecting our assets. We don't know what's waiting in that region. We've already lost every agent we sent in. Sending a high-value operative like Azrael is reckless"
Dmitri's silence stretched a second too long.
Viktor's eyes glinted. "That's what I want. Black Veil swallowed some of our best agents. I want someone that doesn't need guidance to survive. I want something the dark should be afraid of."
Viktor turned away, his tone final. "You'll deploy her. One week. I expect confirmation."
The door hissed shut behind Viktor, and with it, the temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Dmitri stood motionless for a long moment, his hands resting flat against the edge of the control table. The red pulse of AZRAEL's name still glowed on the screen before him, like a warning.
He stared at the numbers again.
He didn't need to reread them. They were carved into his mind already.
Viktor made the decision without blinking.
Not even out of curiosity.
He signed her off on a mission like she was just another weapon, another numbered tool in his machine. Never paused to consider who she is.
A deep breath left him, but it did nothing to steady his nerves.
He could lie again. Forge an excuse. Interfere with comms, delay deployment, say she was injured or unstable or unfit for the field. He'd done it before, quietly masking her true activity from Viktor's eyes. Sending her out only when he could ensure her return.
But Black Veil was different.
That place ate people.
And Viktor didn't want answers this time, he wanted fallout. He wanted something destructive enough to shake the dark back into submission.
Azrael was perfect for it.
He gripped the edge of the table tighter.
Options. He needed options.
His thoughts broke off when Azrael's name flickered again on the screen.
One week.
And if he disobeyed?
There was no room for defiance in Olympus Command.
But maybe, just maybe there was room for delay.
Dmitri's fingers danced over the console.
The mainframe recognized his clearance instantly, pulling up a list of Division operatives with matching clearance levels. Combat-ready. High kill counts. Field adaptable.
All disposable in the eyes of Command.