Hugo was genuinely taken aback to hear Blake's name.
For a moment, he wondered if he'd misheard.
"Blake?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgic.
Barns smiled faintly at the reaction. "Yeah. Surprised, huh?"
They weren't blood relatives, but they'd grown up so close that cousin had always felt right.
It was an old bond from the simpler days before everything had gotten complicated. They hadn't spoken properly in years, and now, suddenly, they were about to meet again in the field.
Barns chuckled softly, as if reading Hugo's thoughts. "We were lucky enough for Blake to get a B rank resonance. He's been working hard ever since—earned a spot among the top students of last year's batch. He also currently at the Initiate stage, but the late phase."
"Sounds like him," Hugo said quietly. "Always overdoing everything."
That earned another laugh from Barns. "You remember that time he tried to build a mud fort in your mother's backyard?"
Hugo did.
The memory rose unbidden: Blake, eight years old, covered head to toe in dirt and grinning like an idiot while Hugo's mother yelled from the porch. The fort had collapsed before it was finished, but Blake had still declared victory.
Those were simpler days.
Now Blake was a Vanguard—someone trained, armed, and respected.
Could they still relate?
He sighed softly and focused on their surroundings.
The bunker complex was sprawling and alive with movement. They passed through a wide atrium filled with people in uniform, some clearly soldiers, others administrative staff.
The murmur of voices blended into a steady background hum.
It was overwhelming.
He'd seen footage of Domain facilities on the net before, but being here—feeling the pulse of it beneath his feet—was different. This was where humanity's future was shaped, one decision, one battle at a time.
Soon they arrived at a section that looked distinctly different.
The noise faded as the halls widened again into a more refined, almost clinical space.
Here, the doors were marked with names.
The air felt heavier.
Barns finally stopped in front of one of those doors. The plaque on it read Ingrid in neat engraved letters.
The simplicity of it somehow made it feel even more official.
Barns straightened his jacket before knocking lightly.
A soft but composed voice responded from inside, "Enter."
The door slid open smoothly, and Barns gestured for Hugo to follow.
The office inside was modest, functional, and almost spartan.
A sleek metal desk dominated the center, stacked neatly with documents, tablets, and folders. The walls were bare except for a single digital clock and the Keep's insignia.
The woman behind the desk was young—perhaps early twenties—but carried herself with an authority that made her seem older.
Her dark hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, not a strand out of place. She wore a crisp white shirt and dark slacks, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal faint traces of exhaustion on her wrists.
Even as they entered, her pen continued moving across a sheet of paper. "Yes?" she asked, not looking up. Her tone was polite but clipped, the kind that brooked no nonsense.
Barns smiled, as he always did when dealing with people like her. "I don't know if you've been informed about the new arrival."
Her pen didn't pause. "New arrival? Arrival where?"
"Here," Barns said, still with that patient tone. "I received a call from someone up top, told to send a new recruit to Cadre Five."
That made her hand freeze mid-signature. Slowly, she looked up, removing her glasses with a faint frown. Her eyes, a calm but piercing gray, shifted from Barns to Hugo.
Hugo resisted the urge to fidget.
Her gaze was assessing, clinical, the kind that weighed and measured without saying a word.
"A new recruit?" she repeated slowly. "He looks very young. Where did he attend his Academy?"
Barns let out a small, almost apologetic laugh. "Ah, well… that's the thing."
She raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"He, uh—he actually got his Token… yesterday," Barns admitted. "So he's… like new new. Completely fresh."
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.
"So let me get this straight," she said evenly. "Someone from higher up decided to assign a complete novice—someone who first cultivated less than twenty-four hours ago—to a cadre of fully trained and operational Vanguards… right before their first Gate exploration?"
Barns winced slightly. "Yes, that about sums it up."
She blinked once. "You do realize how absurd that sounds."
Barns spread his hands helplessly. "I do. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are. But the order was clear. And also one last thing, even though he started yesterday, he is actually already at the Initiate stage."
Hearing the last part Barns said caused her perfectly arrange brows to raise in questioning.
She clearly wasn't buying it.
But before she could respond, the shrill ring of the landline phone sliced through the tension. The sound was crisp and old-fashioned, oddly jarring in the sleek modern setting.
Both Barns and Hugo turned toward it already having an idea of what it was about.
Ingrid stared at the phone for a moment, as if weighing whether to answer, then finally picked it up.
"Yes?" Her tone was instantly formal.
There was a pause as she listened. Her expression didn't change much, but something subtle shifted—the slight furrow between her brows, the stiffness in her shoulders.
"Yes, sir," she said after a moment. "Understood."
Another pause.
"Yes, sir."
And then she hung up, the soft click echoing faintly in the room.
She let out a slow breath, not quite a sigh, and then stood up, adjusting her shirt as she turned toward the door.
"What's your name?" she asked without looking back.
For a moment, Hugo didn't realize she was addressing him.
When her gaze turned sharply in his direction, he straightened instinctively. "Uhm—Hugo."
The word stumbled out of him.
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment—cool, assessing, but not unkind. There was something about her presence that demanded composure.
Then she nodded once. "Follow me, Hugo."
She opened the door and stepped into the corridor without another word, her movements efficient, precise.
Hugo looked at Barns for a hint, but the older man just gave him a small reassuring nod. "You'll be fine," he mouthed.