Even within the Global Heroes Alliance, the elusive group was simply known as "that"—the naless organization that had successfully evaded every level of intelligence and surveillance for years.
Francesca had been chasing their shadows since she was a teenager.
And Gage...
Gage had his own history with them—one he never talked about.
"A new mber?" Gage asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Yep. And you’ve seen this before, right?" Francesca said as she swiped her hand across the interactive panel.
A new image flared to life—a perfectly carved nightjar symbol etched into the cracked pavent. Its stylized wings were spread wide.
Alicia inhaled softly. Theodore raised an eyebrow. But Gage froze. Of all of them, he knew that symbol the best.
"...Yeah," Gage finally said. His tone had shifted—lower, edged with tension. "Seven years ago. But I don’t think they’re the sa person."
He rembered that encounter vividly. The one he t didn’t use a bow. Didn’t move like this masked woman. Didn’t feel the sa.
"That’s why she’s a new mber," Francesca replied, tapping her fingers lightly on the table.
"Mmm..." Gage humd thoughtfully.
Then he suddenly snapped his fingers. "Okay, leave the investigation to . I’ll look into them."
Francesca nearly choked. "What? No—no, you don’t need to do it yourself—"
"No, I have to," Gage cut in firmly. His bright expression darkened into sothing sharp. "We drew the last ti we fought."
"What?" Francesca blinked.
"I already t him before. About ten years ago, I think?" Gage said casually, as if he weren’t dropping a bomb in the middle of the room.
"You WHAT?" Francesca pressed her hand against her forehead, exasperated. "Gage—why haven’t you said anything until now—No, never mind. It doesn’t matter. She’s clearly a different person anyway."
"Maybe," Gage conceded. Then his grin slowly stretched—wide and wolfish. "But even if she’s not the sa, if she’s the old one’s replacent... then she should be just as strong, right?"
He leaned forward, his eyes started glowing. "Now, give those files nicely."
"You brat," Francesca hissed, glaring at him as if he were a personal tornt. "Didn’t I tell you NOT to use your Gift on ?"
Her expression said she wanted to slap the back of his head. Her body, unfortunately, didn’t seem to agree. Her hand moved against her will, trembling slightly, as she extended the secured folder toward him.
She desperately wanted to resist, but she knew it would only drag the mont out and give him more reason to use that cursed Gift of his again.
Gage plucked the folder from Francesca’s hand like a child stealing cookies, smiling ear to ear then left the eting in a hurry.
Sector 0 was dood.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
July 5th
Many things had happened in the past few months.
Most of Glacial Sphere’s executives were pressured to resign after the Rogue invasion incident, and a few were even put on trial. The Academy was now under heavier surveillance—active Heroes patrolled the grounds daily, cara drones floated along the hallways, and extra barriers shimred faintly around the campus periter. Midterms had been abolished entirely; only the character assessnt and the final exam now determined student rankings.
Glacial Sphere’s most popular coffee shop, Haven’s Corner Café
Cypher pushed open the glass door, the bell chiming gently overhead. He scanned the room out of habit.
"Over here, Cypher!" Christian waved enthusiastically from a corner booth.
Cypher headed over—only to pause halfway.
Angela, Whitney, Rex, Christian... And there was soone unexpected sitting with them.
’...Ezekiel?’ Cypher blinked once, twice, then continued walking as if nothing was wrong, though his steps slowed just a bit. He slid into the seat beside Christian, his eyes drifting unmistakably toward Ezekiel.
"How did you do on your exam?" Christian asked, completely oblivious to Cypher’s confusion.
"So-so," Cypher answered lazily, though his attention remained glued to Ezekiel. Why is he here? And... sitting beside Whitney and Rex of all people?
Whitney noticed his stare first. "...Oh, we’re in the sa class." She lifted her cup and shrugged casually. "We got close while talking about our guilds."
"Yep," Ezekiel added with a gentle smile.
"I see," Cypher muttered, slurping his coffee again with the sa flat expression—but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"Oh right," Angela said suddenly, turning her head toward him. Her tone matched his—emotionless, firm, straightforward. "I’m going to Brimstone Mountain over break. Do you want to co with , Cypher?"
Cypher blinked once, slowly. "...Hmm?"
"I said," Angela repeated, unfazed, "if you want to co with to Brimstone Mountain to train this break? Edge is coming too."
"Of course," Cypher replied imdiately.
Angela nodded once. "Okay. Good."
And that was that. She finished her coffee in a single heavy gulp and stood up, making Whitney flinch in surprise.
"Wait—you’re going already?" Whitney reached out, trying to stop her.
"Yeah," Angela replied without looking back. "I have a sparring appointnt with so guy nad Kaelan. I’ll see you later."
She brushed past Whitney’s hand and left without another word.
A small silence followed.
Then Cypher stood up too.
"Hey—where are you going?" Christian asked, eyebrows raised.
"Training," Cypher said bluntly.
"But you just got here!" Rex protested.
"I’m sorry, guys, but I’m a bit busy. Bye."Cypher offered them a small smile—barely there, but polite—before leaving.
The café returned to its soft background chatter, but at their table, the atmosphere had noticeably dropped.
"They should at least stay and hang with us a bit more..." Whitney murmured, her brows pulling together as she watched the door Angela and Cypher disappeared through.
"What’s going on with them?" Rex sighed, leaning back in his seat, looking more drained than anything.
Christian let out a heavier sigh. "Ever since Remillia left, it feels like our group got... colder."
Ezekiel stayed quiet, sipping his drink calmly, but he too glanced toward the door.
Whitney opened her mouth, tempted to say what she knew. But she shut it tight again. These blabbermouths can’t shut their mouths. ’And if Remillia gets dragged into it sohow...’ She shook her head, pressing her lips together. ’I’ll let Remillia tell the truth to them.’
At that mont, her watch vibrated. Whitney lowered her gaze to the glowing text.
[Talon rcenary’s official mber will debut in March next year]
"...Oh?" Whitney whispered to herself. It was interesting news—very interesting.
She tapped her watch screen to turn it off, the notification fading into black. But when she lifted her head, Ezekiel was also staring at his smartwatch, smiling.
It seed they had both just received the sa ssage.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Nightjars Hideout
"Damn it!" I slumped to the ground, breathless, sweat dripping down my forehead. My fingers trembled, numb from firing too many arrows without rest.
"Are you tired already?"
Kairos’ voice drifted from sowhere far—very far—about three hundred ters away. His tone was annoyingly calm.
I shot him a glare and scoffed. "? Never."
Kairos stood atop a half-crumbling stone pillar, arms folded behind his back as if this were a casual morning stroll and not a training session where he volunteered to be my target. And yet, despite all my attempts, I couldn’t land even a single arrow on him. The man was too slippery—his movents fluid, unpredictable, almost... playful.
"But you look tired," he said, his eyes glinting with amusent.
"That’s because I’m still adjusting to using this weapon," I answered, stretching my fingers.
"How co you’re still adjusting? I thought your bow was your main weapon before switching to a dagger?" he said, tilting his head slightly,
’Shit. I forgot that Remillia’s weapon was a bow,’ My mind raced, scrambling for a plausible excuse. "Well, I thought it was my main weapon. Not until I tried daggers." I twirled one of my arrows between my fingers, forcing a grin. "Seems I found my true weapon."
"Hm." Kairos tilted his head, studying with that unreadable gaze of his. "I’m still amazed—and confused—how you decided to change your main weapon. A bow’s got more destructive power than a dagger."
True. But my Spectral Seal changes everything.
With the Seal, my daggers could cut deeper, hit harder, and adapt to my speed. A bow kept too far from my opponent. And for archery, raw strength mattered more than finesse. You needed power to draw, power to hold, power to shoot across distances with accuracy.
Daggers? They were freedom.
"Try to dodge if you can," I said, standing up.
I unclasped my Arcanum from my neck. The instant it touched my palm, it shimred—then shifted, tal flowing like liquid until it ford a dagger.
"Sounds fun." Kairos stretched leisurely, arms lifting over his head as though he were preparing for a nap rather than a fight.
"Take seriously," I snapped, irritated by how effortlessly he treated —like I was a child swinging toys around.
"Alright." His grin deepened, far too entertained.
Seeing him laugh, I decided I was done talking.
I dashed forward, closing the distance in a blink. My dagger flared—gold light erupting along the blade as the Spectral Seal pulsed under my skin. Energy rippled outward, sharp enough to slice through stone.
But even with Predator’s Instinct, I couldn’t fully predict him.
Kairos moved like the wind—slipping, twisting, drifting out of reach at the last possible second. Every ti my dagger cut through the air, he was already sowhere else. His steps were weightless, his body bending in ways that mocked physics.
So I changed tactics.
Instead of chasing his movents, I aid for the likeliest points of impact—angles with the highest probability he’d cross. Pressure lines. Escape routes. Micro-movents.
And still—
He was faster.
For thirty whole minutes, we danced across the training grounds. My lungs burned. My fingers trembled. Sparks and gold streaks carved through the air with every swing. And Kairos... he just kept smiling.
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