Mozen stepped away from the main corridor and into the quieter side office adjoining the administrative wing. The hum of distant alarms filtered faintly through the walls, but his expression remained composed. He reached up and tapped the small comm-unit at his ear, activating the encrypted Vanguard channel reserved for external response teams.
"This is Mozen," he said evenly. "Outer Unit—report your status."
Only static answered him at first. A thin, distorted hiss filled the line before collapsing into silence.
Mozen's brow tightened just slightly.
"Outer Unit," he repeated, voice still calm but firmer now. "You were dispatched during the Malform alert yesterday with a twenty-minute estimated arrival. Confirm your position."
Again, nothing but interference. The signal flickered in and out, as if the transmission were being swallowed somewhere between sender and receiver.
He adjusted the frequency manually.
"Respond. This is acting command."
The line crackled faintly. For a brief moment, it seemed as if something might break through—an unstable fragment of audio, too warped to identify. Then it vanished entirely.
Mozen lowered his hand slightly, gaze narrowing in thought. "Signal obstruction?" he murmured under his breath. "Or deliberate suppression?"
He tried once more, switching to a broader broadcast channel.
"All deployed Vanguards assigned to outer perimeter containment, this is Mozen. Acknowledge."
The call dispersed into silence.
Far beyond the academy's coastal rail line, where the outer access road curved toward the Institute's district boundary, several Vanguard transport vehicles sat motionless across the asphalt.
Doors hung open. Weapons lay scattered.
The first body was slumped against the side of a transport vehicle, posture collapsed as if the strength had simply left all at once. The uniform wasn't shredded by blades or torn by impact, but it still looked wrong, pulled loose in places like the person had dropped mid-motion. A Vanguard insignia caught the floodlight on his chest, dull against fabric that had darkened from damp air and grit rather than blood.
Further up the barricade line, two more figures lay facedown near their posts, hands still wrapped around weapons they never got to raise. Their grips were tight, almost stubborn, like instinct had refused to let go even after everything else did.
Beyond them, at the edge of the coastal overlook where the road narrowed and bent toward the academy's direction, three cloaked figures stood in stillness.
Their silhouettes were framed against the dimming horizon, long coats shifting faintly in the wind coming off the sea. One of them tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something distant through an unseen channel.
A playing card glinted between his fingers before disappearing again into shadow.
Another figure stepped over one of the fallen Vanguards without looking down.
"They attempted to respond quickly," a calm voice observed beneath one of the hoods. "Impressive."
"Predictable," another replied.
The third said nothing, gaze fixed toward the distant structure of the Vanguard Institute visible across the water.
Behind them, the bodies remained where they had fallen.
Their comm-units continued to transmit static into a channel that no longer had anyone left to answer.
Back within the academy, Mozen lowered his hand from his earpiece slowly. His face did not betray concern outright, but something in his eyes had sharpened.
"No confirmation," he said quietly to himself. "Not even a distress signal." He turned slightly toward the main corridor, already recalculating the situation in silence.
If the outer unit had failed to arrive yesterday—and still failed to answer now—then something had intercepted them before they ever reached academy grounds.
"Ah. It's quite refreshing to hear that the Vanguard Institute remains intact."
The voice slipped through the encrypted channel with unsettling clarity, smooth and almost amused. Mozen did not recognize it. That alone was enough to sharpen his attention.
He did not interrupt.
"You see," the stranger continued, tone light as though discussing a minor scheduling error, "the outer unit you deployed encountered… a delay. There's no need for concern. Their arrival will not be necessary."
Mozen's fingers tightened subtly at his side. "Identify yourself," he said, voice measured. "You are transmitting on a secured Vanguard frequency."
A soft chuckle echoed through the line. "Of course we are. Your people were kind enough to grant us temporary access." There was a faint shift in the background—wind, perhaps, or distant surf.
"As for your unit," the man added, "they have been attended to. Efficiently." Mozen's gaze hardened, though his tone did not change. "Clarify."
"They are no longer en route," the voice replied smoothly. "You may consider the matter resolved."
A pause followed, deliberate. "We simply wished to inform you so you would not continue waiting for reinforcements that will never arrive."
Mozen stood very still, processing each word. "You intercepted a Vanguard response team," he said evenly. "That is an act of war against the Institute."
Another faint laugh. "War? No. Think of it as… a prelude. You dispatched them in good faith. We merely adjusted the board."
The signal crackled faintly as if something shifted near the transmitter.
"You should focus on what is unfolding closer to home, Acting Principal," the stranger continued, the title spoken with faint emphasis. "The sea is restless tonight."
The line began to destabilize. Mozen stepped forward slightly. "If you intend to threaten this Institute, state your objective."
"Our objective," the voice replied softly, "has already begun."
The transmission cut abruptly into static.
Mozen remained motionless for a moment longer before lowering his hand from the comm-unit. His expression did not betray panic, but the calculation behind his eyes had deepened.
The outer unit had not been delayed. They had been eliminated. Whoever stood on the other end of that transmission wanted him to know it.
Mozen immediately switched channels, abandoning the compromised frequency without hesitation. He selected an internal Vanguard line and initiated contact with field command.
Theo answered almost instantly, his voice cutting through with alert focus. "Mozen? I just received the monorail notification. There's another anomaly forming along the coastal line. What's happening?"
"There's no time for a full briefing," Mozen replied, tone firm and controlled. "The monorail has detected active resonance interference in Sector C-7. Civilian capacity is high. Students are onboard."
Theo's breath shifted, already moving. "Understood."
"I need you there immediately," Mozen continued. "Take one of the rapid-response bikes and assemble a small strike unit. Do not wait for full mobilization. Prioritize passenger containment and structural stabilization. The anomaly is escalating."
"How many confirmed distortions?" Theo asked quickly.
"At least one manifestation," Mozen said. "Possibly more. We lack clear visual confirmation."
Theo didn't press further. "We're moving now." The line cut as quickly as it had opened.
Mozen lowered his hand from the comm-unit and stepped toward the wide administrative window overlooking the city's coastal district. Evening light reflected faintly against the glass, the distant monorail track barely visible along the water's edge.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, posture composed despite the mounting variables.
"This time the monorail is the focal point," he murmured to himself. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Lyss is onboard. And Takumi." The pattern was becoming difficult to ignore.
"That confirms it," he said quietly. "Takumi is being drawn into these incidents. The Malform at the academy. Now a resonance spike along his transit route." He tilted his head slightly, considering. "Yet I still do not understand why."
For a moment, the thought formed—unbidden but unavoidable.
"Unless…"
He dismissed it almost immediately. "Commanding Ghouls is improbable. Their behavior is reactive, not obedient."
Still, his gaze remained fixed on the distant rail line.
"Then what is guiding them?"
To be continued...