The dawn light through the medical wing window was pale and merciless.
Noir had not slept again, but the crushing weight of the void had receded, replaced by a strange, steady clarity.
Across the room, Piers was already awake, sitting up and staring at his hands as if reading a map only he could see.
He glanced over, and their eyes met. No words were needed. The understanding forged in the dark hours held.
Soo Ah stirred with a groan, throwing an arm over her face. "Ugh. Why does morning exist?"
"To remind us we survived the night," Piers said, his voice rough with sleep but his tone lighter than Noir had ever heard it.
"Philosophy before breakfast. Wonderful." Soo Ah sat up, her dark hair a chaotic cloud.
Her sharp eyes darted between them, and a slow, knowing smile touched her lips. "You two look like you formed a secret club. Do I get a membership?"
"The 'Almost Died and Can't Sleep' club?" Piers offered dryly. "Membership is automatic, but the perks are terrible."
Noir managed a faint smile. The normalcy of the banter was a lifeline.
The door clicked open before Soo Ah could retort.
Shin Jin stood there, still in yesterday's robes, shadows like bruises beneath his eyes. He looked more like a man returning from a long battle than a teacher checking on his students.
He didn't ask how they felt. His gaze swept over them, resting a beat too long on Noir, then on Piers, as if measuring the silence between their beds.
"You're being released today," he said, his voice a dry rasp. "But you are not to leave the cathedral grounds. You will not train. You will attend no lectures. Consider yourselves… under observation."
Soo Ah, who had been feigning sleep, pushed herself up on her elbows. "Observation for what? We survived, didn't we?"
"That's the problem," Shin Jin said, and the bluntness of it silenced her. He stepped fully into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. The morning light cut across his face, sharpening the lines of exhaustion.
He wasn't here for a medical update. This was something else.
"The mission," he began, choosing his words with visible care, "was not a coincidence. The location, the timing, the ripper's evolution… it was orchestrated."
Noir felt the air leave his lungs. Piers went very still beside him.
"Orchestrated by who?" Soo Ah's voice was small.
Shin Jin's jaw tightened. He looked at the floor, then back at them, and in his eyes was a conflict Noir had never seen there before—a teacher's protectiveness warring with a soldier's obedience.
"I cannot give you a name," he said, the words clearly costing him. "But I can give you this: you were not sent there to complete an objective. You were sent there to be tested. Pushed to your absolute limit. To see what would break, and what would… emerge."
His eyes flickered to Noir. A silent, heavy acknowledgement.
"Someone," Shin Jin continued, "wanted to see how you would react when death was certain. They wanted to measure your survival. Your adaptation." He paused, the next words falling like stones. "They considered your potential more valuable than your safety."
The room was cold. Noir could feel Piers's tension radiating from the next bed, could see Soo Ah's playful mask shatter into stunned disbelief.
"Why are you telling us this?" Noir asked, his own voice sounding distant.
"Because you need to understand what you are walking into," Shin Jin said, his tone lowering, becoming almost urgent. "This was not a one-time event. It was a benchmark. You passed. Now the expectations are higher. The tests will become more… specific."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Listen to me. Trust no grand promises. Question every special opportunity offered to you. If you are pulled aside for 'personal training,' or given access to 'restricted archives,' or told you are 'unique'—be wary. Be very, very wary."
He was painting a target on someone powerful without saying the name. They all knew who stood at the top of the Order.
"What do we do?" Piers asked, his voice steady but thin.
"You stay together," Shin Jin said, looking at each of them in turn. "You watch each other's backs. You report anything unusual—anything—to me. Not through official channels. To me, directly." He finally let a sliver of his own fear show.
"The politics of this place are a deeper battlefield than any you've seen. And you have just become pieces on the board."
He straightened up, the moment of vulnerability snapping shut. He pulled a plain, unmarked folder from inside his robe and placed it on the small table between the beds.
"Historical case studies," he said, his voice official again. "For your review during your rest period. Understanding the past can sometimes… clarify the present."
It was a clear instruction: Research. Learn. Arm yourselves with knowledge.
With a final, lingering look that held a universe of unspoken warnings, Shin Jin turned and left, the door closing with a soft, definitive click.
Silence pooled in his wake.
Soo Ah broke it first, her voice hushed. "He was talking about the Head Priest, wasn't he?"
Piers said nothing, his face pale. Noir could see him connecting the dots—his grandfather's warning about powerful clans and buried sins, and now this: their own mentor confirming they were pawns in a game played from the highest office.
Noir looked at the folder. It was no longer just a reading assignment. It was a weapon. Both a map and a confession.
Noir, Piers, and Soo Ah stared at the closed door, then at each other, the weight of the warning settling over them like a burial shroud.
Then the door flew open again, smacking against the wall with a cheerful bang.
"Rise and shine, miracle children! The management has heard your complaints and is here to make amends!"
Mr. Ace strolled in, a stark study in black and white. His seer's combat suit was immaculate white, his snow white hair matching likewise.
As usual, from head to toe, his entire form was a seamless shell of tight, pitch-black bandages, not a single gap or opening in the wrappings.
Yet his voice emerged clearly, smooth and amused, as if from the air itself.
He was holding a large, ornate basket overflowing with wrapped sweets, glossy fruits, and what looked like several small, expensive-looking spiritual talismans. He dumped it unceremoniously at the foot of Noir's bed.
"Courtesy of the Head Priest himself," Mr. Ace announced with a theatrical flourish. "A 'Get Well Soon / Sorry You Almost Died / Our Bad' basket. The honey-glazed nuts are to die for. Figuratively speaking this time."
He winked.
Noir, Piers, and Soo Ah just stared, whiplashed from Shin Jin's grave intensity to… this.
"Cat got your tongues? Still woozy from the near-death experience?" Mr. Ace plopped himself on the edge of Soo Ah's bed, making it creak.
"Look, the big man upstairs feels terrible about the whole 'unexpected almost evolved ripper' thing. Total oversight. The intern who filed the threat assessment has been sternly reprimanded." He said it in a tone that suggested a smile, though the bandages revealed nothing.
"Now, between you and me..." he continued, leaning toward Noir, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur that was somehow more unnerving than his boom.
"How's the head? Any… revelations? Cosmic insights? Figured out what you are yet?"
The question hung in the air, disembodied and intimate.
"Just… headaches," Noir managed.
"Pity." The bandaged form leaned back slightly. "I was hoping for something more dramatic. Headaches are so...mundane."
A black-wrapped hand lifted, gestured, and a pear levitated from the basket, floating over to Piers, who caught it numbly.
"Eat up. Nutrients help with existential dread."
He stood, brushing non-existent dust from his sleek suit. "Orders from the top: rest, relax, enjoy the goodies. Consider yourselves on paid vacation from almost being murdered. Oh, and Noir—" He paused at the door, looking back.
"When you do figure it out...come tell me first. I'd love to hear it." He winked—or seemed to. With no visible eyes, it was impossible to tell, which somehow made it worse.
Then he was gone, leaving the scent of expensive cologne and a basket of blood-money treats in his wake.
The three of them sat in a new kind of silence.
Soo Ah was the first to move, cautiously poking the basket. "Are… are the talismans actually good quality?"
Piers put the pear down as if it were poisoned. "This is what Shin Jin meant," he said quietly. "'Special opportunities.' 'Grand promises.' They're buttering us up."
Noir looked from the grim folder Shin Jin had left to the gaudy basket from Yuusha. The two objects sat in stark contrast on the small table.
One was a key to the truth.
The other was the price of silence.