The entrance sealed behind them with a muted echo.
Reeve and Lunareth moved deeper into the underground base, their footsteps careful, measured. The air smelled faintly of metal and old magic—cold, lifeless.
The room they entered was wide but barren.
Weapon racks lined the walls.
Blades, spears, enchanted mechanisms.
Crates filled with tools meant for conflict—not defense.
No people.
"…Empty," Lunareth whispered.
Reeve's gaze swept the room.
"No," he replied calmly. "Prepared."
Before either of them could move further—
Lunareth's expression shifted.
"Someone's coming," she said sharply. "Three. Hide."
Without hesitation, Reeve followed her behind a stack of reinforced crates. Dust stirred as they crouched, breath controlled, presence erased.
Moments later—
Footsteps.
Three figures entered the room.
They weren't fairies.
Nor fully human.
Tall, lean bodies cloaked in dark robes, their ears slightly pointed, mana signatures distorted—half-bloods, altered through forbidden enchantments.
"Did you check the outer seal?" one of them muttered.
"Yes," another replied. "No alarms. The Fairy King's guards are blind as ever."
The third laughed quietly.
"Good. Then the transfer proceeds tonight."
They spoke casually—too casually—for people discussing betrayal.
Then one of them walked straight toward a plain stone wall.
Reeve's eyes narrowed.
The figure pressed his palm against the surface.
The wall trembled.
Lines of magic pulsed—and silently, the stone shifted aside, revealing a hidden passage descending even deeper into darkness.
"One day," the first said as they stepped through, "this kingdom won't even realize when it stops being theirs."
The wall closed behind them.
Silence returned.
Reeve didn't move for several seconds.
"…So that's how they vanish," Lunareth murmured.
"Hidden layers," Reeve replied. "Classic. Power always builds doors it hopes no one will notice."
They didn't pursue.
Not yet.
Instead, they retraced their steps carefully, sealing the base behind them the same way they'd entered.
Back at the castle, moonlight greeted them once more.
In the quiet corridor, Lunareth finally spoke.
"This is worse than we thought," she said. "They're organized. Patient. They're not rebelling—they're replacing."
Reeve leaned against a pillar, arms crossed.
"Politics," he said flatly.
"Change the face, keep the system rotten."
She studied him.
"You don't sound surprised."
"I'm not," Reeve replied. "Different world. Same instincts. Control information, hide power, move in shadows."
Lunareth exhaled slowly.
"For now," she said, "we observe. If we act too fast, they'll disappear again."
Reeve nodded.
"They already think they're invisible," he said quietly.
"That's when people make mistakes."
The castle stood peaceful above them.
But beneath it—
The walls were already moving.