"Is he planning to take a leave, or return to duty immediately?" Demurc asked, his voice steady beneath the soft patter of rain.
"He requested to return right away," Alice replied, her gaze shifting toward Adam. "But it was denied. He'll need to take a few days off before he's cleared for active service again."
"Good," Demurc said quietly. He stepped forward, his boots sinking slightly into the wet soil as he approached the line of coffins. One by one, he paused before each, the scent of wet earth lingered in the air as he bowed his head in silent acknowledgment. Alice followed a step behind.
At the far end of the burial line, where the last grave lay freshly covered, stood Adam. He had just finished paying his respects to the others, his posture rigid.
Demurc approached slowly, stopping beside him without a word. The two men stood in silence, the rain soft against their wear, the air thick with grief unspoken.
Alice followed only a step behind. She shifted her umbrella slightly, angling it to cover Adam as well as herself. A quiet act of solidarity beneath the gray sky.
Adam turned slightly, his expression distant but sincere. "Thank you," he muttered, his voice soft barely rising above the rain.
Alice met his gaze and gave a small nod in return.
After a few moments of silence, Demurc finally spoke. "I heard you applied to be immediately be active on duty," he said, his voice calm.
Adam didn't answer. His gaze lingered on the grave, eyes fixed on it.
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Demurc continued after a pause. "Take some rest. You deserve it."
He placed a firm hand on Adam's shoulder, a brief gesture of support, then turned and began walking back toward his vehicle.
For a moment, Alice stayed where she was, watching Adam silently. Then, without a word, she extended her umbrella toward him. Adam hesitated but accepted it.
Alice gave a faint nod, turned, and walked after Demurc through the rain to return towards her vehicle.
When the funeral ended, Demurc returned to his quarters. The authorization notice awaited him on his desk, freshly stamped and approved. The examination for Subject 05-1A would proceed at the evening.
Demurc went to the containment ward, deciding to do some preparation on Cecile before the examination. In his hands, he carried a white restraint suit, heavy and designed to restrict movement in every possible way. The material was thick and seamless, made from a reinforced polymer weave resistant to tearing or puncture.
The arms were crossed tightly against the chest, secured by layered bindings that locked into the fabric itself, leaving no room for resistance. Not a single inch of skin was visible apart from the head, the collar rose high enough to touch the jawline, and the seams along the neck and wrists were perfectly sealed.
The legs were fitted close, ending in reinforced boots connected by short, weighted ankle chains, not enough to immobilize, but enough to shorten her stride and slow her movement to a measured pace.
When he arrived at the containment ward, he swiped his access card. The magnetic locks clicked, followed by the heavy hiss of the reinforced door as it slid open.
As he stepped inside, Demurc paused in the middle of the corridor, the air heavy with sterilized chill. He took a slow breath to steady himself.
Rows of metal doors lined On both sides stood rows of heavy metal doors, each with a narrow reinforced glass near eye level that offered a glimpse inside the containment cell. From the first cell, a pair of eyes watched him, glinting beneath the dim overhead lights. Then, from the next cell, another gaze followed.
Demurc kept walking, the faint echo of his boots against the metal floor the only sound that moved through the corridor. He approached the first cell, 1A, the label etched in bold black against the steel frame. Cecile's containment.
Demurc swiped his card against the reader on Cecile's cell. A mechanical click echoed, followed by a low hiss as the magnetic locks released.
Inside, under the pale glow of the overhead lights, stood Cecile. Her restraints gleamed faintly, her posture oddly relaxed despite the chains attached to her neck and ankles.
It was something Demurc always found displeasing. Beneath his cold exterior, his heart was soft.
"Hello, Warden~," she greeted with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Are you here to stabilize me? Am I about to lose control?" Her tone was playful, almost mocking, voice soft.
Demurc handed the restraint suit to Cecile. "You have an examination later today," he said. "You'll need to wear this throughout the entire process."
He didn't move from his place, standing still like a statue.
Cecile tilted her head, a sly grin curving her lips. "Hmm… so, are you going to watch me get undressed, Warden?"
Demurc's eyes didn't waver. "It's for security measures," he replied evenly. "It'd be best to comply."
Cecile arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Are you sure it's not because you want to see me undress, Warden?" she teased yet Demurc remained stoic.
"How boring," she sighed, voice dripping with mock disappointment. She turned away, the faint rustle of fabric breaking the silence as she began changing. Her hands lifting the hem of her shirt and slowly lifted it upwards to took it off, then her pants.
There stood Cecile, who was completely defenceless and bare, her movements slow. She looked at Demurc as if tempting him before she wore the restraint suit.
As Cecile finished wearing the restraint suit, the white fabric clung perfectly to her form, leaving no trace of exposed skin. Demurc stepped forward to secure it. He ensured every seal was tight.
"This is very uncomfortable, I can't even move my hands," Cecile complained. "Aren't you guys treating Bearers a little too harshly?" She added.
Cecile wasn't entirely wrong. After multiple incidents caused by Bearers, Crime or not, anyone with an ability, any Bearer was treated the same.
Demurc knew the system was severe, especially in cases like Cecile's. She wasn't an outlaw, not truly. But the risk that came with their abilities was not something that should be ignore.