While Greta and Borin prepared for the delicate and draining ritual in the infirmary, the three exhausted recruits stood before the Captain in his office. The room, usually a place of order and strategy, felt like a judgment chamber. The air was thick with the scent of ozone from the infirmary's devices and the weight of their partial failure.
"Report," Borin said, his voice leaving no room for excuses.
Ronan, as the mission's strategist, spoke first. He laid out their investigation, from uncovering the forgotten witness, Tomas Reik, to the discovery of Sub-station 7. He described the trap, the pristine condition of the station, and the schematics they had found. He didn't soften the details of the ambush, nor his miscalculation of their enemy's strength.
Cain followed, his report clipped and precise. He described the Legion recruits—their coordination, their fanatical resolve, and their lack of hesitation. "They were not mercenaries," he stated. "They were believers. They fought without fear because they have no past to lose and no future to fear." He also detailed the Redactor's abilities from an observational standpoint. "She did not fight directly. She was a commander, using her power to turn our own senses against us. She creates tactical chaos. Isolde was the only thing holding that chaos at bay."
Finally, it was Liam's turn. He carefully unrolled the schematics signed by Elias Vance onto Borin's large oak desk. The proof. He then placed the small, leather-bound notebook they had recovered from the Observatory on top of it, open to the page with the Legion's symbol.
"The disaster was a lie," Liam said, his voice low but steady. "They erased a man named Elias Vance from history to cover up their involvement. The Redactor's mission, at the Observatory and at Sub-station 7, was to destroy the last remaining proof." He looked Borin in the eye. "This is what they do. They don't just kill people. They un-make them. It's what they did to my sister."
Borin stared at the symbol of the hand emerging from the blank book. A deep, cold anger seemed to emanate from him, a pressure in the room that was more intimidating than any shout. "I know this symbol," he rumbled. "The Boş Sayfa Lejyonu. The Blank Page Legion. An old heresy. We thought we had purged them from the city a generation ago."
He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the smoking stacks of Terminus. "They are not just criminals or terrorists. They are agents of entropy. As a Sealbearer of Structure, I recognize their philosophy as the ultimate antithesis to our own. We build, we maintain, we preserve. They unravel, they erase, they return all to zero."
Greta, who had entered the room silently, slammed a heavy fist on the desk, making the schematics jump. "They attacked one of us," she snarled, her voice a low growl. "They put Isolde on that table. My philosophy is simpler, Captain. We hit them back. Hard."
Borin turned from the window. "This is no longer a reconnaissance exercise for a few recruits. This is not your personal quest anymore, Liam Corbin. By attacking a member of the Iron Compact on our territory, the Legion has made their choice." His voice was cold as iron. "They have declared war."