Seren woke up sore and restless.
Her feet still ached from the night before, and her head felt heavy, like it was full of unfinished thoughts. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then the memory of the streets, the shadows, and Alaric's quiet test came back all at once.
She sat up slowly and looked around her room. Everything was clean. Perfect. Too perfect for the chaos she now carried inside her.
She showered, dressed, and tied her hair back the way she had started doing lately. No loose ends. No soft edges.
When she stepped into the hallway, she noticed something immediately. The guards were different. Not new faces, but new positions. New patterns. The mansion had shifted again.
Someone had made another move.
At breakfast, Alaric was already seated. He looked calm, as always, but Seren had learned that calm often meant trouble.
"You passed," he said without looking up from his coffee.
"Barely," Seren replied, sitting across from him.
"Barely is enough," he said. "Most don't make it back at all."
She watched him closely. "That wasn't training. That was exposure."
"Yes," he agreed. "Training comes next."
That made her pause. "What does that mean?"
"It means today, you stop reacting," Alaric said. "Today, you apply pressure."
The first task was simple on the surface.
Alaric gave her a name. Just one.
Jonah Kree.
"A minor player," Alaric said. "He moves money. Information. No loyalty. He sells to whoever pays."
"And you want me to scare him?" Seren asked.
"No," Alaric said calmly. "I want you to talk to him."
Seren frowned. "That's it?"
"For now."
He handed her a slim file. Inside were photos, habits, routines. Where Jonah ate. Where he felt safe. Where he didn't.
"Find his pressure point," Alaric said. "Everyone has one."
Jonah Kree liked quiet places. That alone told Seren a lot.
She found him in a small café tucked between two old buildings. No guards. No noise. Just a man pretending he was invisible.
She ordered coffee and sat two tables away.
She didn't rush.
That was the first thing she had learned. Rushing showed fear.
When Jonah finally noticed her watching him, his shoulders stiffened. He stood to leave.
Seren spoke calmly. "Your daughter's school fees are overdue."
He froze.
Slowly, he turned back toward her.
"I don't have a daughter," he said.
Seren met his eyes. "You do. You just don't talk about her."
Silence stretched between them.
"Who sent you?" Jonah asked.
"No one," Seren said. "I came because people are asking questions. And you're giving answers to the wrong ones."
Jonah laughed, but it sounded thin. "You think you scare me?"
"No," Seren said honestly. "I think you scare yourself."
That did it.
He sat back down.
They talked for twenty minutes. No threats. No shouting. Just careful words and small truths.
When Seren left, she had names. Locations. Timelines.
And Jonah Kree knew that if he lied again, he wouldn't get another visit.
When Seren returned, Alaric was waiting.
"You didn't touch him," he noted.
"I didn't need to," she said.
He studied her for a long moment. "Good. Fear fades. Awareness stays."
She handed him the information.
"This puts us ahead," Alaric said. "Briefly."
"Briefly is better than blind," Seren replied.
A hint of approval crossed his face.
That evening, the Circle responded.
Not with violence.
With loss.
One of Alaric's offshore accounts froze without warning. Legal pressure. Clean. Quiet.
A message followed shortly after.
Unknown Number: You're learning the wrong lessons.
Seren stared at the screen.
Seren: You're afraid I'm learning the right ones.
No reply came.
But the silence felt heavy.
Later that night, Seren found Rowan.
He looked worse than before. Tired. Guarded. Alive, but barely.
"They're squeezing," he said quietly.
"I know," Seren replied.
"They want you isolated."
"Then they don't understand me," Seren said.
Rowan gave a small smile. "That's what scares them."
She leaned closer. "Tell me something, Rowan. If I fall, who benefits?"
Rowan didn't answer right away. Then, "Everyone who doesn't want change."
That stayed with her.
Before sleeping, Seren stood at the window again.
She was no longer asking herself if she belonged here.
She was asking how far she was willing to go.
The Circle had money. Influence. Time.
She had something else.
Clarity.
And as the city lights flickered below, Seren understood one simple truth.
Pressure didn't always break people.
Sometimes, it revealed who they really were.