The clang of steel boots echoed across the marble floor as Kael and Kim returned to the Iron Order Headquarters. The mission was over, but the whispers were only beginning.
"Did you see him?" one recruit muttered.
"First mission and he brought down a Phase 6 Somnus…" another whispered, awe lacing every word.
Kim, of course, made sure the entire hall knew. He clapped Kael's shoulder so hard the man nearly stumbled.
"Ha! My partner! You all better remember his name Kael! On his first mission, he fought like a seasoned hound!"
Kael forced a small smile. Inside, unease churned. Praise was dangerous. It made you visible. And visibility drew suspicion.
A worker in uniform approached, adjusting her glasses nervously.
"Kael… Captain John Gary wants to see you. Immediately."
Kael froze for half a second. His heart gave a nervous kick. So soon?
His mind raced with paranoia. Did they discover something? My past? The ritual? Or… are they going to dissect me like those corpses in the alleys?
He followed the worker through dim corridors. Every step toward Gary's office felt like stepping deeper into a noose.
Inside, the office was choked with smoke. Captain John Gary sat behind his desk, pipe between his lips, his sharp eyes glowing like coals through the haze.
"Sit," he said, voice low and grating.
Kael obeyed, spine stiff, palms damp.
Gary exhaled a ring of smoke, studying him in silence for too long before speaking.
"You fought well. But I don't trust you."
The words cut sharper than any blade.
He leaned forward, pipe glowing red.
"You appear out of nowhere. No records. No origin. Yet you kill a Phase 6 Somnus like a man swatting a fly. Either you're blessed… or cursed."
Kael's fingers twitched. So this is it… he's going to
Gary smirked.
"…But valuable nonetheless. We don't waste tools like you. Go to the Athanor Hall. Find Marlowe. He'll know what to do."
He removed the pipe, leaned back, and added with a gravelly chuckle:
"Welcome to the world of Otherworlders."
Kael left, shoulders tight with tension. He was so lost in thought he collided with a worker carrying papers. They scattered like snow across the floor.
"Ah, forgive me," Kael murmured, kneeling to help gather them.
The woman smiled faintly. Her eyes were a frosty silver, her grip delicate yet firm.
"Arflen Frost. And you?"
"Kael," he replied, tipping his hat.
She noticed his hesitance. "Heading to Athanor Hall? I'll escort you. The corridors here are… labyrinthine."
As they walked, they exchanged light words. She had a quiet wit, her tone both courteous and guarded. Kael, in turn, kept his paranoia tucked behind small talk.
At the great bronze door, Arflen paused. "Here it is. Be careful. Marlowe is quiet eccentric."
Kael gave a slight bow. "Thank you, Miss Frost."
Inside, the air reeked of herbs and hot metal. Bottles bubbled on brass stoves. Scrolls lay half-burned on desks.
An old man with wild hair stirred a cauldron, muttering to himself. Kael kept silent, eyes catching on a newspaper.
"THE HERO VANISHES – STRONGEST OF THE AGE DISAPPEARS WITHOUT TRACE."
Before Kael could finish, the old man snapped upright.
"When did you get here?!"
Kael raised a brow. "Been standing here the whole time. You were just… distracted."
The old man squinted, then chuckled.
"Sharp tongue. I like you. Name's Marlowe. What's yours, boy?"
"Kael. Captain Gary sent me."
"Ah! Then you're here to choose."
Marlowe shuffled over to a massive leather-bound tome. He flipped the pages, and strange symbols seemed to squirm across the parchment.
"Twenty-two Orders," Marlowe said, voice carrying both reverence and weight. "Each a path. Each a destiny. Once you step onto one, there's no turning back."
Kael's eyes scanned the list. Among the many The Masque, The Riftwalker, The Justicar his gaze froze.
The Mirage.
His chest tightened. The same word the fortune-teller once whispered. The same word tied to his survival.
Marlowe raised an eyebrow. "The Mirage? Hmph. Weakest of the lot. Once belonged to the Hero, before he vanished. They say he went mad chasing a woman…" He trailed off, chuckling to himself.
But Kael's decision was already made. "I'll take it."
"Bold. Or foolish." Marlowe grinned, reaching for ingredients.
He laid them out one by one, muttering as he worked.
"A feather from a night crow… a vial of dreamwater… powdered glass from a mirror broken at midnight…"
The potion shimmered like liquid moonlight.
"Drink. But beware. Digestion isn't simple. Fail, and you'll combust into a pile of gore." He chuckled. "Happened once. Messy business."
Kael swallowed hard, then downed the vial.
At once, his mind fractured into visions. Rockets splitting the sky. Towers scraping clouds. A thousand voices whispering truths and lies at once.
His spiritual energy exploded outward, rattling the bottles on Marlowe's shelves. Across the HQ, workers felt the wave of power.
"Focus, boy!" Marlowe barked.
Kael's soul seemed to soar above his body, flying through air, through memory, through fear. Then, like gravity snapping, he plummeted back into flesh, gasping.
He blinked and saw Marlowe glowing yellow.
"You see it, eh?" the old man smirked. "Truth shines yellow. Lies black. But keep it on too long, and your skull'll split. Blink twice to shut it off."
Kael nodded weakly, clutching his temple.
A runner burst in, breathless. "Captain Gary he wants both of you. Now!"
Marlowe led the way into the lowest levels of the HQ. Torches burned low, the air heavy with rot.
They entered a chamber where a corpse lay split open, organs exposed.
Kael's stomach twisted. "How can a body… be this grotesque?"
Gary smirked darkly. "Funny words, from a man who once slept among corpses."
Kael gave a strained chuckle. "Touché."
"Do your job." Gary's voice snapped like a whip.
Marlowe gestured. "Track him. Through his belongings. His blood. His soul still lingers."
On the corpse's chest lay a small book, clutched tight in stiffened fingers.
Kael blinked twice. His vision blurred and then the aura appeared, glowing, pulling him along. Flashes of memory pierced his mind. A brother's voice, begging. A desperate scream. A path illuminated.
Kael staggered back, pale. His lips trembled.
"…I've been here before."