The night air inside the Citadel's lower hall was cool and sharp.
The echo of footsteps carried faintly down the corridor as four figures approached the mission chamber — Sirius at the front, his cloak drawn tight, three shadows moving in step behind him.
Kael, silent as a blade's breath.
Rhea, her amber eyes glinting in the dim blue light.
And Darius, the quiet tower of the group, his heavy boots the only sound among them.
Their summons had been direct and brief:
Objective – Neutralize Magitek arms ring operating under Niflheim trade cover. Location – Insomnia lower district, sector twelve. Operatives – Candidate Team Alpha. Commander – Sirius Blake.
It was their first sanctioned strike as a team.
---
Inside the briefing hall, Cor Leonis stood by the map table, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
The map's blue light reflected across the lines of his face, etching his expression in focus and steel.
He didn't speak at first — just studied them.
Sirius met his gaze, unwavering.
Finally, Cor said, "You've earned this operation. But this time, you don't answer to me. You answer to the mission. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.
"The objective is simple," Cor continued. "A Magitek arms ring has been trading parts through Lucian channels — illegally. They've bribed merchants, corrupted guards, and moved shipments beneath our noses. You'll find them, retrieve what they've stolen, and make sure they never operate again."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Sirius. "Discretion, not destruction. You move like ghosts. You leave nothing behind but silence."
Sirius nodded. "Understood."
Cor's tone softened, almost imperceptibly. "Make me proud. And make Lucis forget you were ever there."
---
Hours later, the Shadow Guard team moved through Insomnia's lower sectors.
The neon glow of magitek ads flickered across wet concrete, painting the narrow alleys in shifting color. Airships hummed overhead, their lights distant, indifferent.
Rhea's voice came softly through the comms. "Visuals confirm the target — warehouse four. Three guards at the front, one patrol around back. Magitek crates inside."
Kael's whisper followed. "Thermal shows a core engine running. They're prepping to ship soon."
Sirius crouched on the ledge of an adjacent building, eyes reflecting the faint shimmer of his HUD. "We move in two minutes. Rhea, you cut the power. Kael, disable the external alarm. Darius, intercept the rear patrol. I'll breach from the north window."
Darius grunted a quiet acknowledgment. "Understood."
At his mark, they moved.
Rhea leapt down silently, slipping into the shadows by the fuse box. Sparks flared, then died — the lights of the warehouse flickered once, then went black.
Kael was already moving, his blade glinting faintly as he severed the alarm wire.
Darius caught the rear guard before the man could turn, knocking him unconscious in a single chokehold and dragging him into the dark.
Sirius landed beside the window, cutting through the frame with quiet precision. The hum of the Magitek core echoed faintly within. He slid through and dropped to the ground soundlessly.
---
Inside, the warehouse smelled of oil, dust, and damp metal.
Stacks of crates lined the walls, each marked with Niflheim's sigil — crimson and white.
Five smugglers stood near the center, arguing over shipment manifests, their voices low and tense.
Sirius exhaled slowly, centering himself. His blade slipped free in silence.
Then he moved.
The first two never saw him.
A flash of steel — two silent collapses.
Kael emerged from the shadows, blades whirling in close, precise arcs that disarmed and dropped the next.
Rhea appeared in a shimmer of illusion, her magic bending light to confuse the last smuggler's aim before Sirius' strike ended it cleanly.
Within seconds, the room was still.
"Clear," Darius reported, stepping through the side door.
"Secure the crates," Sirius ordered. "Record serials for Cor's report."
Kael checked one of the boxes. "All Magitek parts. Stolen from the Crown's own depots."
Rhea knelt beside a cracked container, brushing her hand over its label. "This shipment was bound for Tenebrae. They're not just smuggling—they're arming the enemy."
Sirius' jaw tightened. "Then this stops now."
They worked quickly. Every crate was logged, sealed, and tagged for confiscation.
When the last one was secure, Sirius stepped back, scanning the floor. "No traces. No sound. We were never here."
Rhea smiled faintly. "You're starting to sound like Cor."
Sirius looked at her. "Or maybe Cor sounds like what I've become."
She raised an eyebrow, amused. "I'll pretend that wasn't terrifying."
---
The mission ended before sunrise.
By dawn, the stolen shipment had been recovered, the warehouse empty. Lucis' law enforcers arrived hours later to find the place abandoned — weapons stacked neatly, culprits bound, no sign of who had done it.
Only a single emblem had been left behind, etched into the metal floor — a faint mark of a fang surrounded by flame.
---
Later that morning, in the Citadel's debriefing hall, Cor reviewed the report silently.
Draen stood beside him, reading the same screen.
"No deaths," Draen murmured. "No alarms, no collateral damage. Efficiency at one hundred percent."
Cor said nothing, his eyes scanning each line, pausing briefly on the final phrase.
Operation executed by Candidate Commander Sirius Blake.
After a moment, he simply exhaled. "He's ready."
Draen nodded slowly. "You think the King should know?"
Cor hesitated — then smirked faintly. "He already does."
---
In the throne chamber, King Regis Lucis Caelum stood by the tall window, his gaze resting on the city below.
Cor's report lay folded on his desk. The words were brief, factual, and without flourish. Yet Regis' expression carried quiet understanding.
"So," he said at last, "the boy carries the Leonis discipline well."
Cor bowed slightly. "He does. Too well, perhaps."
"Leonis blood has always walked the thin line between duty and compassion," Regis murmured. "And this one?"
Cor's gaze lifted. "He hasn't lost his heart. That's what makes him dangerous."
The King smiled faintly, the weight of centuries in his eyes. "Then let's pray the danger remains ours."
---
When night came again, Sirius sat at his desk in the quiet of his quarters. The mission report lay open before him, lines of data glowing faintly across the holographic screen.
He read it once more, then turned off the display.
Outside, the barrier shimmered faintly in the dark. The city lights pulsed below, unaware of what had changed in its shadows.
Sirius leaned back in his chair, staring at the faint reflection of his own eyes in the glass.
"Cor's silence," he said softly, "is louder than any praise."
He smiled faintly, closing his eyes. "Then that's enough."