"Alyssa, I'm unsure what you're thinking. Out of all of your ideas, this has to be the most absurd one yet." Rollo's voice called out.
It was late at night. The moon hung heavy above, her moonlight filtering through the glass windows of her office. Alyssa sat behind her desk, her legs lazily hanging off the wood. She blew into her cup, the white steam endlessly shifted upwards.
Currently, Vice-Captain Alyssa Baudouin of the Dunsleight Branch wore a simple dress shirt and pants. Lazily leaning into her seat, she made for a casual figure—far too much, if Rollo had to be asked.
Rollo sat by, straight and in full uniform. Alyssa had to wonder if the man had any idea what the word 'rest' meant.
"I don't see the harm." Alyssa answered. She sipped her coffee after.
'Too bitter,' She hummed in thought. Her hand reached to a nearby container, putting in sugar cube after sugar cube.
"Don't see the harm?" Rollo asked. He crossed his arms. "We are bringing a malethis influenced individual into a potential cultist den."
"Potential." Alyssa emphasized, taking another sip.
Her brows furrowed soon after. 'Still too bitter.' Her sweet tooth was insatiable.
"Nothing's confirmed as of yet. Best-case scenario, the residents of the house simply surrender for investigation." She placed another sugar cube, taking the tea-spoon and mixing the liquid carefully.
"Alyssa, that is never usually the case. Especially when it comes with an influence highly suspected to be of the Fifth." The Recorder said with an indignant sigh.
With half-lidded eyes, Alyssa looked at Rollo with amusement. "Then Cirino can simply observe from the sidelines while we deal with it. He's not a child. Besides, the purpose here is to observe him—not to send him to battle."
With a sip, she looked to the ceiling in thought. 'Still bitter.' She placed another cube and stirred.
"He showed no symptoms of corruption after being in contact with such a dangerous Malethic Artifact." She mused out loud.
"So I want to see if another Eidarch's Malethis should be able to do so." Alyssa said. "This could provide us with a... let's say 'rare' opportunity."
Rollo let out a tired sigh, slumping onto his desk. He pushed his spectacles up, gold meeting his own silver.
"I don't like this, Alyssa." Rollo began, "did Captain Averas accept this?"
"Oh, he did. He's been keeping a close eye on our prisoner ever since he came here. So far, he's proven to be quite entertaining, if nothing else." Alyssa answered, taking the coffee to her lips once more.
She hummed in delight. "There we go, much better~"
"You need to get your sugar checked, Alyssa. There's probably more sugar than caffeine in there."
"What's this? Rollo Anselle is capable of humor?" Alyssa widened her eyes in mock surprise. "And here I thought I had to deal with a statue for a recorder."
Rollo rolled his eyes, the motion slow and deliberate. He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair. If Alyssa was dead set on bringing Cirino along tomorrow, there was little point in arguing. Still, he couldn't fathom what made this prisoner so special.
"I have to ask," he said finally, tone edged with dry restraint. "You're never this lenient with any of our detainees. What's different about this one?"
Alyssa smiled faintly. "Aside from the fact that he's seemingly unaffected by a Tier-Five Chthonis artifact?"
She rose from her chair, her movements languid, unhurried. Crossing the room, she opened a drawer and pulled out a thick folder before setting it on the table between them with a muted thud.
"Read it."
Rollo frowned but obeyed. He flipped the folder open and scanned the first few pages—service record, commendations, disciplinary marks. His brow furrowed the deeper he went.
"Three years in the Imperial Army…" he murmured. "Kartheval Campaign… Chthonis incursion… Sixth Eidarch involvement…"
He turned another page—and paused.
His eyes narrowed. "Are you sure this isn't propaganda?" he asked, looking up. "He's a regular soldier. So how in the hell did he—"
"Fight off a mid-tier Chthonis Demon without the aid of a Shardbearer, or any of the Shardhost?" Alyssa finished for him, her voice soft but sharp.
Rollo blinked.
She folded her arms. "Yes. Alone. No divine resonance, no artifact, not even a recorded trace of Malethis corruption afterward."
She leaned in slightly, her golden eyes catching the light. "Who we have in custody, Rollo, isn't just a survivor. He's arguably the most capable mortal in the Empire."
The air between them went still.
Rollo glanced down at the report again—at the detailed recounts of a battle that shouldn't have been survivable, at the grainy photograph of a young soldier standing amidst the wreckage, eyes unfocused yet still human.
Finally, he looked back up. "And you think bringing him near more Chthonis corruption will help us understand why?"
Alyssa smiled thinly. "No. I think it'll help us understand how."
Rollo focused his eye on the grainy photograph. There was no doubt, the corpse was what remained of that Chthonis Demon. A mass of mutated flesh, bone, vulnerable only to V-Type Rounds or Void Blades—to which each soldier was only equipped with two clips and a Void-tipped Bayonet that scarcely had an effect.
Perhaps there was more to this mortal, Rollo just couldn't figure out what. At the very least...
He understood why the Vice-Captain had her eyes on him.
[...]
Click!
The sharp metallic sound of the bolt sliding into place was music to his ears. For the first time in days, Cirino actually felt something familiar in his hands.
The rifle was different from the ones he'd used in the field—a carbine model, lighter, with a shorter barrel meant more for patrolmen than soldiers—but it still carried the same comforting weight.
"Oh… V-Type rounds," Cirino murmured, eyes lighting up as he turned one between his fingers. The etched runes caught the light, faintly glimmering. "How I've missed you."
"We're not even on the battlefield yet and you're already drooling over a gun," Sio cut in, stepping into the barracks as the Choir Auxiliaries prepped their gear. "Didn't take you for such a gun nut."
Cirino rolled his eyes and set the weapon down with something almost like reverence.
"Says the guy hauling that oversized cannon on his back. What model is that? I've never seen anything like it on the field."
Sio shrugged and swung the rifle off his shoulder. To Cirino's surprise, the massive weapon was folded — compact, functional, with sliding components and locking joints that hinted at a far larger form.
If Cirino was right, that thing could probably unfold to twice Sio's height. Were elves just naturally stronger. Then again, that size had to be impractical… right?
"Custom build," Sio said. "I call her By'ruthka—Salvaeri for 'Bite Marks.' I mostly use V-types, so distance doesn't mean much. But even with standard rounds, this beauty can punch through armor. The Silencer Quills get full freedom to design their own rifles."
'Silencer Quills?' Cirino blinked, but before he could ask, Sio kept talking.
"She's got a carbine setting too." The elf twisted and locked the weapon down to a sleek, compact frame. "Good for close-quarters. Every Quill carries one—they're snipers of the Choir, at least one per unit."
He glanced up. "Any other questions?"
Cirino thought for a moment. "Yeah. You psychic or something?"
Sio smirked. "Good thing I'm not. I'd rather not crawl through that brain of yours, Gun Freak."
He slung By'ruthka back into place and turned toward the door. "You're a soldier, so I'll assume you know how to fight. But you'll be in the backlines for this one. Considering what we're dealing with, Alyssa's called in Knights from the Castrato Order."
Cirino raised an eyebrow.
Sio sighed.
"You'll see soon enough."
[...]
Cirino found himself in a briefing hall.
Unlike the cramp tents or open fields he was used to, this one was a little more professional. A large hall akin to how he imagined lecture halls looked — though a lot smaller. There were only thirty or so people, with Alyssa Baudouin at the front.
He walked down the hall's steps, finding an opening by the edge of the tables. He seated himself and placed the carbine on the table, turning to his seatmate on the left.
"Hey," Cirino greeted. In response, the man scooted away from him.
Cirino deadpanned. 'Okay, asshole. Not like I wanted to talk to you, either.'
With no seatmates to speak of, Cirino turned his attention to the front. When everyone settled, Alyssa took a step forward. Hand causally resting on her saber's grip, the vice-captain of the Dunsleight branch cleared her voice.
"You might be wondering what you're all here for." Alyssa said, her voice a lot more serious. She glanced towards Cirino for just a moment. The gaze was one of mischief knowing, as if she knew a secret he tried to keep.
'Why is she staring at me?' Cirino worriedly thought.
"I'm sure you're all aware of what occurred with the army barracks." She began, walking forward. Cirino's gaze widened, so she knew that Cirino did? How? Did Rita tell her?
"To give a brief rundown, nearly a month ago, we found every single soldier within the army barracks dangling on ropes inside the main hall of the barracks." Alyssa said, her voice a wide declaration. "After a thorough investigation, we've concluded that the main suspect: Thalia Viñana, is either a succubi of the Fifth, or affiliated with the Fifth."
Those terms again. Fourth, Fifth, Third. What did they even mean? Cirino felt like a fish out of water, a new transfer in a school with already established friend groups. He had no idea what any of these terms were.
"We've found traces of the Fifth's Malethis within the crime scene, faint and nearly imperceptible if it weren't for Rollo Anselle's brilliant detective work." She turned to Rollo who sat by her side. "Give him a round of applause, everyone."
To which they did, clapping his way much to his chagrin. Rollo disliked attention, and Alyssa knew he disliked attention. This was torture for the poor man.
'Poor guy.' Cirino dryly thought.
"In any case, considering our target, I've called in help from the Castrato Order." She continued. "Their melee capabilities, along with their gifts, would be of great help. The Succubi are said to be amassed within the lower sections, within the sewage tunnels and sewage systems of the city. The cramped space would make it difficult for our firearms."
'Succubi within the sewage system? Not the first place I would've looked.' Cirino dryly thought. 'Oddly fitting.'
"The Order would be our main vanguard force, we would simply act as support." A group of retainers and members of the civilian staff began to hand out folders to each of the people present.
Once they reached Cirino, he took one and looked into it.
He raised his brow, the young man was impressed. The Choir was thorough, really thorough. Within the folders were listed suspects, potential threats, escape routes the enemy could use, along with recommended actions for multiple scenarios.
There was a map and layout of the site scrounged up from old city plans, each listed year-by-year, detailing even the families of those who reside next to the building.
'Possible contact with Ms. Viñana, how lovely.' Cirino dryly thought.
"Memorize the contents in ten minutes. The ink would vanish once the time's up."
'Really thorough, they don't mess around at all.' Cirino thought.
The soldier took the paper and read, committing each bit of information to memory. Once the ten minutes were up, the ink vanished and faded away. The now-blank paper was then recollected.
"That should be everything, dismissed." Alyssa said, and all nodded her way. They began to trickle out, and Cirino began to move—
"Except you, Cirino. I'd like to discuss your role in this operation." Alyssa said.
Cirino stopped mid-step, turned and slung the carbine behind his back. Walking over to Vice-Captain Alyssa, Cirino stood at attention. Gone was the wry young teen, replaced by the soldier who had been drilled to near-perfection.
Alyssa regarded him for a moment, then lightly patted both of his shoulders.
"Calm down, Cirino. I'm not technically your superior." Alyssa said with a light smile.
"No, but you're technically my jailor. Forgive me if I don't want to lose my head, Ma'am." Cirino dryly intoned.
"Cirino, if we wanted you dead, you'd be dead already." Rollo chimed in from the side. "For now, you are being monitored. Try not to lose your head, both literally and metaphorically. Heightened emotions have a significant effect on Malethis."
'Easy for you to say, you're not the one being monitored!' Cirino internally screamed.
"I'll try, sir."
Rollo blinked, then turned to Alyssa. "I like this version of Cirino better."
'I'm still here, you know?' Cirino dryly thought.
Shaking his head, the man wanted to get this over with. He thought about it long and hard, coming to the conclusion that his role within this unit would best be served in the backline. Not only was this the safest place, but sending in a prisoner into the forefront of a sensitive raid wasn't exactly a good idea.
Years of military experience gave him a good grasp on tactics, at the very least. You don't spend three years in constant war without learning something.
"In any case, I suppose I'll just be in the backlines, then." Cirino said. "You can keep a good watch, and I'm good enough with a rifle to pick off stragglers escaping."
"Who said you'd be in the backlines, Mr. Soldier?" Alyssa chimed in.
His expectations were completely overturned.
Cirino's eyes snapped wide open, and judging from Rollo's look, the man was much the same.
"Alyssa," Rollo said, his tone a mix of exasperation and exhaustion. "You cannot seriously be thinking of putting a potentially malethis influenced person into a battlefield?"
"Potentially," Alyssa clarified, "and all within a controlled environment. Cirino would be watched over by our men, Sio's positioned by the rooftops to take out stragglers, and the Castrato Order would be more than enough to deal with him should he become fully corrupt."
Cirino furrowed his brows, turning to Alyssa. He wasn't exactly thrilled being a glorified guinea pig for her experiments. He had already served enough as a soldier, and as far as he was concerned, this wasn't a part of the deal.
"What part of the deal said I had to take part in this?" He asked.
"The part where you haven't complained until now. The part where you've been placed into our custody, and we get to choose how we deal with you." Alyssa sharply answered. "You've followed orders pretty well, up until this point, Cirino. You've fought against Malethis influenced beings before, and you were a conscript who never signed up for your service."
"So why complain now?" She asked.
Cirino grit his teeth. Serve. Serve. Serve. Over and over, only ever made to serve. He was a good soldier, he never complained. Even under the most grueling conditions, he never once told anyone of his inner frustrations. That was dangerous then, more so now.
'So why am I being so open about this?'
"I was a soldier." Cirino answered. "Now, I'm a prisoner. Prisoners complain, so I'll keep complaining until your ears bleed."
He slung his rifle over to his hands.
"I'll play soldier, but I'm not your damned guinea pig."
There was silence, then. A tension that seemed to hang. Alyssa raised her brow, Cirino kept his glare on her. The two stared off, assessing each other with brutal precision. Rollo looked to Cirino's own eyes, within that emotional response lay a calculated glare. He was studying her, reading her just as she did with him.
Hiding himself away in a back-and-forth that seemingly lasted forever.
Then, Alyssa's lips quivered. She smiled, a faint and approving grin.
"There it is." Alyssa said. "The man behind the soldier. Thought they'd beaten it out of you."
"Guess my skull's too thick for them to rid me of my stupidity, then." Cirino's glare didn't leave her.
Alyssa found that amusing, taking no real offense. The fact that a normal soldier could glare at her without fear of consequence fed into her growing curiosity. She leaned in, her golden eyes narrowed.
"Oh, Mr. Cirino," Alyssa said, her tone soft but cutting, "don't mistake my curiosity for leniency."
She held his gaze — those defiant, frost-bitten blue eyes that burned back at her. "You're under our custody, and I'm the only thing keeping you from being torn apart by paranoid higher-ups. You won't throw your life away, not you. Your drive to live is stronger than any hatred you think you have."
Her voice lowered, each word deliberate. "You'll follow my orders — not out of obedience, not out of fear — but because that stubborn will to live of yours knows it's the only real option you have left."
With a quiet hum, Alyssa turned. The sharp click of her boots echoed against the floor as she walked toward the door.
"Rejoin your unit and prepare for dispatch," she ordered. "The Quills have already been deployed — they should have clear sight over all entrances and exits."
She glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.
"I'll join you shortly, soldier."