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Chapter 9 - Ch 9: Amantha Harbringer

Orders were orders. Agent Harbringer had lived by that creed for over a decade. No questions. No hesitation. The Organization didn't reward curiosity—it punished it. And she had no interest in being on the receiving end.

But this assignment… this one was different.

She stared at the file in her hand, the edges worn from being gripped too tightly. Reyna Solis. The name alone was enough to raise alarms. Daughter of Master and Mistress Solis—two of the most revered agents in the Organization's history. Their deaths had left a crater in the ranks, and now their child had resurfaced. Unregistered. Untrained. Unaccounted for.

Harbringer had been ordered to retrieve her. Quietly. No damage. No questions. Just extraction.

And here she was—undercover in a town that reeked of mediocrity, surrounded by people who had never seen a classified file in their lives. She was embedded in a school, of all places. A school. 

She stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching students march in perfect lines toward the main building. Uniforms pressed. Shoes polished. Voices low. The place looked more like a military academy than a school. Bloodkeep Reformatory —where discipline was worshipped and mistakes were punished with silence.

Harbringer adjusted the stiff collar of her borrowed blazer. She hated it here. The rules were suffocating, the schedule relentless. But this was where Reyna Solis had been hiding. Or rather, where someone had hidden her.

The Organization's file had been thin—too thin. A name. A photo. A location. No explanation. No context. Just a directive: Bring her in. Quietly.

Reyna was the daughter of Master and Mistress Solis, two agents whose disappearance had left a void no one dared speak about. If Reyna was anything like them, she wouldn't be easy to handle. But she'd had been chosen for a reason. She was precise. Efficient. Loyal.

Still, something about this mission felt wrong. She wasn't used to working in places like this—where everything was so... normal. Where the threat didn't wear a mask or carry a weapon. Where the target was just a girl in a school uniform, sitting through algebra and pretending she didn't matter. At least that's how I hope she is.

I exhaled sharply and stepped forward. I didn't like the assignment. I didn't like the silence around it. But I would follow through.

I always did.

The first time I met her, I was dragging my suitcase into a dorm that looked more like a military command post than a student's room. Everything was pristine—bed made with hospital corners, books aligned like soldiers, not a speck of dust in sight. It was unnervingly similar to the school itself: rigid, imposing, and far too fond of grandeur. The principal at least had a flair for velvet curtains and antique chandeliers. Reyna Solis? She preferred order. Cold, clinical order.

She didn't greet me. Not really. I got silence. And a stare. Not just any stare—one that made my skin crawl like I'd walked into a trap. Her eyes were sharp, unreadable, and locked onto me like I was a threat. Great. She was exactly like Mr. and Mrs. Solis. Cold. Calm. Unrelenting. This was going to make my mission a hell of a lot harder.

She watched me unpack with the intensity of a sniper. I had expected a socially awkward teen with too many friends and not enough boundaries. What I got was someone who looked like she could dismantle my entire team without breaking a sweat. Military-grade, maybe. I hoped not. But the way she moved, the way she didn't blink—it was giving me chills.

Then she spoke.

"Who are you really?"

Her voice sliced through the tension like a blade. I jumped, nearly dropping my duffel.

"Uh—I'm your new roommate?" I offered, trying to sound confused, innocent. She wasn't buying it.

"Yes. But who are you?"

I sighed. No point in playing dumb. "I'm Amantha. Amantha Harbringer."

She didn't react. Not visibly. But something shifted in her posture. She was still stone-faced, but now her silence felt... loaded.

"So who are you?" I asked, needing confirmation.

"Reyna Solis. But you already know that, don't you?"

Her tone was sharp, almost accusatory. I clenched my jaw. She was full of herself, sure, but maybe she had reason to be. I didn't have time to psychoanalyze her. My mission didn't allow for that kind of luxury.

Before I could respond, a soft knock broke the tension.

I turned. A tuft of jet-black hair peeked through the doorway. Then came the eyes—green, sharp, calculating. Whoever he was, he wasn't here for small talk.

"Reyna- a moment."

Ok, he's serious. I don't like him already. 

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