The events in this chapter take place 1 week before the events of chapter 1
The Organization's East Sector Center was pristine—floor-to-ceiling glass walls, cold white lighting, and not a single wrinkle in anyone's suit. Nel stood near the assignment board, hands in her pockets, suit blazer still unbuttoned from her last mission.
Her hair was tied up in a loose flame-colored braid, and her body still carried the stiffness of diplomacy. She'd just returned from a week-long envoy exchange in the Northern Territories. Boring, political, peacekeeping work. Necessary. But not her style.
She preferred motion. Movement. Solo assignments with actual stakes. So when the automated system pinged her ID and flashed "Assignment Pending," she sighed before she even turned toward the desk.
A man in a crisp Organization badge, collar pin straight, slid a case file across the table to her without standing. "Azure, Nel," he said, formal as ever. "Report logs say you've been inactive in the mentorship program since your early reassignment. That changes today."
Nel raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know my schedule came with babysitting."
"It's a formal assignment, not a request. You've been tasked with overseeing a academy operative. High potential, but volatile. The higher-ups feel someone with real field experience is better suited to ground them."
She snatched the file and flipped it open. No photo. Just a name, academy ID, and a few behavioral notes. She didn't read the details.
"Let me guess," Nel muttered. "One of those 'next big thing' kids who thinks essence bends to will and a flashy domain makes you a god?"
The agent didn't react. "All we ask is that you treat this assignment seriously. The Organization is investing in this cohort. We don't want them breaking before their time."
Nel scoffed. "Right. Because that's never happened before."
Still, she pocketed the file.
She turned to leave, the automatic glass doors parting for her.
As she stepped into the hallway, a group of fresh recruits passed by, adjusting their suits, loud with nervous energy. Most didn't even notice her. One did—and quickly straightened up.
She offered no nod in return. She wasn't here to inspire. Not today.
Her thoughts drifted—back to flames, to old voices yelling from sparring circles, to her father screaming at her to "hit harder or don't get up." Back then, they called it tough love. She just called it unnecessary.
Now they were assigning her a student.
"Let's see if history repeats," she muttered under her breath.