The door slid open, and Max stepped into a room that didn't belong in the Wing.
Not metal walls and humming locks — but cushioned chairs, low tables, a dispenser humming in the corner, even a coffee machine that filled the air with bitter warmth. Soft light instead of white glare. For a second, it felt like stepping into a normal world.
It was almost insulting.
Justice was already inside, standing by the wall like the furniture didn't exist. Arms folded, eyes sharp, crimson hair catching the light.
"Max," he said. No welcome. No greeting. Just his name, like a reminder of where he stood.
Max's boots sank slightly into the carpet. He didn't sit.
Justice's voice carried flat and steady.
"I am Justice. Pure Virtue. This is my unit. From now until the end of this mission, you follow my command. Understand?"
Max met his stare. "Understood."
Justice didn't nod. Instead, he flicked his hand, and the others turned toward him.
Elias Veyra rose first from one of the chairs. Broad shoulders, steady gaze, posture straight even when relaxed. He gave Max a slow nod.
"Elias. Fortitude." His voice was deep, calm, like stone set in place.
Cael Serrano leaned forward from a chair, pale eyes locking too sharp, too long. His tone was flat, clinical.
"Cael. Clarity."
By the coffee machine stood Imani Rae, a warm cup in her hands. She set it aside before stepping closer. Her voice was quiet but firm.
"Imani. Mercy."
Last was Sera Noctis, sprawled on the couch with her boots up on the table. She stretched, smirked, and flicked a wrapper into the trash.
"Sera. Resolve. And you're the cursed one, yeah? Cute."
Max's jaw flexed. "Max Hart."
He looked at them once more, then asked, "Why are you saying it like that?"
Sera tilted her head. "Like what?"
"Your blessings. Who chose you." His voice sharpened. "We weren't allowed to say. Not in Unit Twelve. Not what cursed us. Not who it was."
The four exchanged a glance. Cael was the one who answered. "Because we're not cursed. We volunteered. We were chosen."
Imani's tone was softer, but clear. "And because it's not shame. It's not poison. It's the truth of who we are."
Elias added, calm as ever, "Blessings are not secrets. They're oaths."
Max's jaw flexed, heat prickling in his chest. Easy for them to say when their "oaths" didn't risk twisting them into monsters.
Justice finally cut in. His voice was iron.
"Virtues do not spread corruption. They don't hide in shadows. Their blessings strengthen order. There's no need for secrecy."
His gaze pinned Max.
"Not like Vices."
The room shifted. Elias stayed steady, arms folded. Cael didn't look away from Max, eyes too sharp. Imani gave the smallest reassuring smile, like she believed words before proof. Sera stretched her arms overhead, smirk tugging wider.
Elias broke the silence first. "As long as he doesn't compromise the mission, he has my respect."
Cael tilted his head. "Respect's earned. We'll see."
Sera snorted. "Respect? Please. I'm here for the show."
Imani's voice was calm. "We'll judge him by what he does, not what they call him."
Justice didn't move. Didn't smile. Didn't soften.
"If he fails, I'll end him myself."
The lounge felt warmer than any room Max had been in since entering the Wing. And yet, the eyes on him were colder than ever.
Justice broke the silence. His voice was steady, iron against the comfort of the room.
"You've been through containment. Now you'll be tested in the field."
He didn't pace. He didn't fidget. He just stood, the kind of stillness that carried more weight than motion.
"A Vice is hiding in plain sight. Not Corrupted. Not a shadow. A Pure Vice in human form. It has embedded itself into civilian life, waiting. The Tribunal believes it has taken root in a school."
Max's jaw flexed. Justice didn't look at him, but the words landed heavy all the same.
"You will blend in as transfers. Your assignment is to identify the Vice without exposing yourselves or endangering civilians. Once confirmed, containment protocol begins."
Sera swung her legs off the couch, grin sharp. "School? Guess I'll be the popular one. I've got the look."
Cael muttered, "Or the loudest suspect."
She kicked his chair without looking. "Better than creeping around like a ghost."
Elias's calm voice cut through. "Focus. We'll need to coordinate covers."
Justice nodded once. "Correct. This isn't about combat. It's about restraint."
Finally, his eyes shifted to Max. Cold. Sharp.
"Especially you."
The words hung there, clear enough.
Max forced his voice steady. "I can blend."
"Blend?" Justice's voice cut sharp. "You couldn't even hold back fire against Vanity. You erased it down to ash in minutes. That wasn't restraint. That was indulgence."
Max's jaw tightened. He bit back the urge to snap that it wasn't indulgence, it was survival. Justice made it sound like he'd enjoyed it — like he hadn't been choking on the heat just to stay alive.
Around him, the others stiffened at the name. Vanity. They'd heard the reports of what Max did. And what he can do.
Justice didn't soften. "This time, no fire. No spectacle. You sit in a desk, write tests, eat cafeteria food, and smile when expected. You don't burn unless I order it. If you can't manage that…" His tone stayed even, almost casual. "…then you've already failed."
Max clenched his fists once, then let them loosen.
They talked about his fire like it was a toy he lit for fun, not something that burned whether he wanted it to or not.
"I won't fail," Max responded bitterly
Justice didn't blink, "Prove it."
He reached into his coat, pulling thin folders and tossing them onto the low table one by one. Paper clipped, stamped, thorough.
"Your covers."
Sera grabbed hers first, flipping it open. "Seventeen, transfer from the north, top marks, good looks. You totally nailed it." She winked at Elias. "Told you, I'll be the popular one."
Cael skimmed his file without humor. "Clubs, transcripts, clean falsifications." His pale eyes slid toward Max. "Wonder what they made for you."
Max picked up his folder. The name on top wasn't his. Fake parents, fake address, fake hobbies, even a fake part-time job. A full life written for him.
He closed it. "Convincing."
"Convincing keeps you unnoticed," Justice said. "Unnoticed keeps civilians alive. That's the measure here."
Imani's voice was calm, steady. "It's not about lying. It's about living the lie until the truth shows itself."
Justice flicked his gaze her way, then back to Max. "She's right. And you? You've only ever lived as a weapon. Can you live as anything else?"
Max's nails dug into his palms. He wanted to tell him he'd never had a choice but his silence was the answer.
Justice moved on, crisp as a blade.
"Elias. You'll be enrolled as a transfer athlete. Sports clubs. Easy cover.
Cael. Transfer with advanced placement. Blend as a high achiever.
Imani. Music program. Volunteer groups. Your nature will blend there.
Sera. General placement. Social, visible, wide reach."
Sera raised her hand lazily. "So basically, I get to talk to everyone and look good doing it. Fine by me."
Justice didn't acknowledge it. His eyes cut to Max.
"And you. Transfer with remedial placement. Average marks. No clubs. You will not draw attention."
Sera laughed. "Guess that makes you the invisible one. Cute."
Max's fists curled, then loosened. He didn't look at her when he answered. "If invisible's what you want, I'll vanish."
Justice leaned forward just slightly, enough for his presence to press.
"Not vanish. Observe. Watch like a hawk. Hear what others don't. If you burn, Max, you burn everything."
The coffee machine hummed in the corner. Nobody spoke.
Justice straightened again. "Mission starts tomorrow morning. 06:00 am. You'll be escorted to the site, integrated by first bell. Tonight, you memorize your files. Eat, rest, and keep your fire on a leash."
He turned, already walking for the door.
"You wanted prove yourself, Max. This is your opportunity."
The door hissed open. He stopped in the frame, glanced back once.
"And Max—don't waste this. I don't stick my neck out for anyone."
The door sealed shut, leaving the hum of the dispenser and the weight of his words behind.