The figure moved over to the largest chair at the table and sat down. Other officials and knights followed. Scribes lined the walls with rune-slates.
Alain sat next to Ceres, fidgeting.
"Begin the record; Incident #2203, under the jurisdiction of Codename Tyr, with first-hand reports from Codename Heimdall at the scene."
A clerk nodded, activating the sigil circle at the table's edge. Lines of blue light spiraled upward, capturing every sound.
Ceres spoke first, his tone clipped and precise.
"Codename Heimdall, reporting. Train C-14 derailed 6 miles west of the anticipated path. Usual train operations were tampered with the day before. Then…confirmation of Blighted entities at the scene."
That sent shockwaves across the table. The collective room gasped at the information.
"How strong was the entity?" one officer asked.
"According to my prediction, Tier II," Ceres replied.
The sound of quills scratching faltered. Conversations died mid-breath. Even the glow of the sigil circle seemed to dim.
"Human?" someone whispered.
The murmurs that followed were full of fear and disbelief.
"Tier II? Within the Empire?"
"Was the entity neutralized on-site?"
"By you, Operative Heimdall?"
Ceres's gaze flicked to the side before returning to the Commander. "I was on-site during the encounter."
The murmurs stilled.
He spoke evenly, though his tone carried weight.
"But… I did not subjugate the Tier II Blighted."
A low hum filled the chamber as confusion spread.
"My priorities were rescuing passengers. I had to defend the remaining train car from falling debris and helped with the evacuation efforts."
The room rippled with unease. Everyone had the same question.
"Then who neutralized it?"
For a moment, Ceres didn't answer. The faint hum of the sigil recorder filled the silence. He then turned to Alain, who was sitting in the nearby seat.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, precise. "A civilian. Seventeen. I was on my way to pick him and another up for Duke Finn's recruitment."
The reaction was immediate.
"A civilian?"
"That boy from the wreck? Impossible."
Across the table, the Commander raised a gauntleted hand. The room fell silent instantly.
The armored man pointed at Alain.
"Let's proceed with eyewitness reports. Starting with you, please proceed."
Alain stood up, his legs trembling, but did his best to hide it. He looked around—all eyes were on him.
"A—Alain Vale, from Ede–07, similarly recognized as Brann District."
His voice cracked halfway through. He forced himself to stand straight.
"In your own words," the Commander said, tone neutral, "describe what you witnessed."
Alain nodded, swallowing hard. "The train started shaking before impact. When I came to, the impact had already happened. Ceres—uh, Operative Heimdall was holding the barrier."
He hesitated.
"Then something appeared from the tunnel."
"Something?"
"It looked human. But it wasn't, it crawled on all fours, its limbs were distorted."
A faint murmur rolled through the hall.
"And what did you do?"
"I tried to get people out," Alain said. "There were passengers trapped under the seats. Lia was hurt. I… I don't remember thinking much after that."
"But you engaged the Blighted directly?"
Alain's pulse quickened. "I didn't mean to. It came for us. I grabbed a sword from the floor, that was the only option left."
The Commander leaned back, hands clasped on his chair.
"What is your Concept Rune and Insight Level?"
"Sir, with all due respect, I don't know what that means," Alain replied.
The words hung awkwardly in the air. Someone in the back muttered, half under their breath, "Unregistered."
"The mark, on your hand at least."
Alain blinked. "My… hand?"
"Your Concept Rune," the Commander clarified.
Alain hesitated. His throat felt dry. If he showed them everything… no. He didn't even understand what everything was.
He raised his left hand instead, the one that felt safer.
A faint crimson ember pulsed beneath the skin, the shape simple and familiar. Two angled strokes that curved like a flame's breath.
< — Kenaz. (Fire)
"Fire affinity," one muttered. "How did you receive this, Mr. Vale?"
"I was an apprentice blacksmith, sir. My master always said blacksmiths without Kenaz are never worth their salt."
Alain let out a quiet breath. Maybe that was enough. Maybe they'd just accept it and move on.
But then the Commander's helm tilted slightly. The gold reflection of the rune shimmered across the visor.
"Left hand only?"
Alain froze.
"Operative Heimdall mentioned a Revelation appearing at the scene. I assume you are Stage 1 of Kenaz since you aren't trained in combat."
The Commander continued, "Output that can subjugate a Tier II simply exceeds what a Stage 1 Kenaz can produce."
Ceres's voice broke the stillness. "Commander—"
"It's procedure," the Commander said, still calm, still precise. "For the record."
Alain looked at Ceres for confirmation. After thinking for a while, Ceres nodded.
He hesitated, then raised his right hand.
At first, there was nothing. Then a faint golden pulse threaded across the back of his hand, thin lines forming a crooked cross, uneven but alive.
The light bloomed slowly, filling the hall with a soft, warm radiance.
ᚷ — Gebo (Exchange)
The murmurs started immediately.
"That's not an elemental rune—"
"Abstract pattern!"
"Two active marks?"
"Dual-affinity resonance?" one officer said in disbelief. "That should be theoretical! Ceres, are you sure it's safe?"
Ceres spoke quickly, keeping his tone neutral. "No signs of instability since."
The Commander raised a gauntleted hand. Silence returned instantly.
"Unclassified rune combination," he said evenly. "Record both. Left-hand Kenaz, right-hand unverified Abstract Grade."
He stood slowly, the sound of metal joints echoing through the chamber. "Alain."
Alain flinched. "Sir?"
"Do you understand what you carry?"
He shook his head. "No, sir."
"Good," the Commander said. "For your sake, keep it that way."
The sigil recorder dimmed. The officers began gathering their notes, their eyes lingering on Alain just a moment too long.
Ceres approached quietly, placing a hand on Alain's shoulder as the room emptied. "Breathe," he said under his breath.
"You should check up on Lia. She'd freak out in an unfamiliar environment."
Alain nodded, "Will do…Ceres, thanks for covering for me."
"Don't thank me yet," Ceres said, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. "You'll have to do it again tomorrow."
He gave Alain's shoulder a light pat and turned toward the far side of the chamber as the boy left.
The heavy doors closed with a muted echo, sealing the room in silence.
For a long moment, Ceres just stood there, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
A voice came from behind him. Calm and familiar.
"You've gone soft, Keeper."
Ceres didn't turn. "Drop the act, Bertran. I'm really tired right now."
The sound of shifting metal filled the hall, the figure unmasked.
The Duke beneath the armor looked nothing like the image on his banners.
His blonde hair, normally combed, fell loose on his temples. His eyes, pale blue, cold as winter glass.
Bertran Finn—Duke of the Eastern frontier, with the secret identity as Tyr, an Aesir Division operative known collectively as Commander.
"You could at least pretend to respect protocol when I'm wearing the armor."
"That depends," Ceres said. "Your acting is horrible, by the way."
A dry laugh escaped the Duke, faint but genuine. "Fair."
Ceres sat down, exhaling. "You could've warned me that half the room wanted to dissect the boy on the spot."
Bertran unlatched the last piece of armor, setting it down with a soft clatter. "You handled it fine. I only needed them to see him."
Ceres frowned. "You planned this?"
"I planned to recruit him," Bertran corrected, stepping into the light.
"Both of them. You were supposed to evaluate their potential quietly, not drag them into a Tier II engagement."
"Tell that to the train," Ceres muttered.
Bertran chuckled lowly. "Still, things have a way of resolving themselves. Now the Council can't contest my claim."
Ceres looked up at him then, eyes narrowing. "You're talking like you've already decided what to do with him."
"I have," Bertran said. "You'll take him and the girl into the Aesir program when they recover. Train them, register them, I've already sent word to the Academy."
Ceres leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "You're fast, I'll give you that."
Bertran smiled faintly. "You were the one who said we needed new blood, remember? People untouched by politics."
Bertran crossed his arms, regarding him with that same unreadable expression. "Have you figured out their Runes yet?"
Ceres didn't answer right away. His gaze drifted to the empty seats where Alain had sat earlier.
"Her Rune," Ceres said quietly, "it's structured...stable. I traced its form from the residual ether. It's Eihwaz, I think. The old rune for endurance or persistence."
"And his?" Bertran continued.
"I've only seen it once before. Its definition is never clear."
"And?"
"I think it means…Exchange."