The call-in came two days after the incident.
Isolde, the rest of the squad and Aim who are just normal residency officer were called to the regional RMO headquarters early in the morning. The building stood inside the inner district. A RMO administrative office of southern district.
They were led into a meeting room on the second floor. A long wooden table filled the center, and a man in a dark uniform was already waiting inside. His coat had no red lining like Carter's, but the silver insignia on his collar was enough to tell everyone in the room that he outranked all of them.
"Sit," the section commander said.
No one spoke as they took their seats.
The officer opened a thin folder and glanced at the papers inside before looking up at them.
"First, the Omen Management Department would like to thank your unit for responding to the incident near the southern outer wall very quickly. But despite that the result was still a failure."
His tone sounded like he was reading from a script.
"However," he continued, "due to the nature of the incident, the report will be handled directly by headquarters. You are not required to submit individual reports for this operation."
Aim frowned slightly but said nothing.
The officer continued.
"Unexpectecdly witnesses from the refugee camp have been vanish. Just vanish. This is what you should perceive."
He closed the folder.
"You are not allow to discuss the incident with anyone outside this room. This includes family, friends, and other units. Any questions from civilians or journalists should be redirected to the headquarters office."
He placed several papers on the table and slid them forward.
"Sign the confidentiality order."
No one moved for a few seconds. Then Carter picked up a pen and signed first. One by one, the others followed.
Aim signed last.
The officer collected the papers, nodded once, and stood up.
"Take two days off. Consider it compensation for keeping your mouth shut. You too residency officer, I will tell your Chief to give you two day off as compensation."
Just like that, the meeting ended.
No questions were asked.
No explanations were given.
And somehow, that felt more unsettling than the incident itself.
The newspaper came out the next morning.
Aim bought a copy from a street vendor on his way to breakfast. He didn't think much of it at first—until he saw the headline on the front page.
TERRORIST MAGE ATTACKS RMO PURIFICATION UNIT NEAR SOUTHERN WALL
Redcoat Officer Secures Situation — Investigation Ongoing
Aim stopped walking.
He read the article once. Then again. Then a third time.
The article described an unknown mage attacking an RMO purification squad near the eastern wall, causing severe damage and refugee casualties. It stated that the situation had been brought under control by Redcoat Officer James Carter, and that the identity of the terrorist was still unknown.
Aim lowered the newspaper slowly.
Not a single sentence mentioned the rectangular hole.
Not a single sentence mentioned the omen disappearing.
Not a single sentence mentioned what actually happened.
He folded the newspaper and put it under his arm, his expression unreadable.
That afternoon, he met Isolde near the outer district road.
"You read it?" he asked Isolde, holding up the newspaper.
She nodded once. "Yes."
"And?"
She looked at the road ahead instead of answering immediately.
"It's not what happened," she said finally.
"No," Aim replied. "It isn't."
They walked the rest out of southern gate in silence to the omen site yesterday.
When they reached the site, Aim stopped walking.
For a moment, he thought they were in the wrong place.
The refugee camp was gone.
Completely gone.
The ground had been flattened and covered with fresh dirt. No tents. No broken carts. No scattered belongings. No sign that hundreds of people had lived there just days ago.
The massive rectangular hole was gone too. The ground where it had been was now filled and leveled, though the soil was a slightly different color from the surrounding area. If someone didn't know what used to be there, they would never notice.
Aim walked forward slowly, looking around.
"There were tents here," he said quietly. "Rows of them."
Isolde nodded. "Yes."
He knelt down and touched the dirt. It was dry and loose, like it had been a fight recently. A few patches were darker, almost black, like something had burned there.
"They set these up. To make it look like this was really a terrorist case." Aim stated
From a distance, the place looked like a battlefield
"This was a refugee camp," Aim said.
Isolde looked across the empty field.
"Not anymore," she replied.
He stood up and looked around again, trying to imagine the tents, the people, the fires, the noise. But there was nothing left to connect the place to what he remembered.
"They erased everything," he said.
Isolde didn't answer immediately. Then she said quietly, "Yes."
They stood there for a long time without speaking.
Finally, Aim took the folded newspaper from under his arm and handed it to her.
"They say a terrorist mage attacked us," he said.
Isolde read the headline again, her expression unchanged.
"If this was really a terrorist attack," Aim continued, "they would show the damage. If this was an omen incident, they would file a purification report."
He looked around the empty field again.
"But they did neither," he said. "They erased it."
Isolde folded the newspaper slowly.
"The witnesses are gone," she said. "The site is gone. The report is controlled. And Carter is the one in the newspaper."
Aim didn't respond immediately.
After a while, he said, "You noticed too."
"Yes."
They stood in silence again, the wind moving lightly across the empty corrupted land where the refugee camp used to be.
Finally, Isolde spoke.
"What are you going to do?"
Aim looked toward the city walls where they stood.
"If I stay outside," he said, "all I will ever see are newspapers and fences."
Isolde looked at him.
"And if you go inside?" she asked.
He thought for a moment before answering.
"Then maybe I'll see the reports they don't print."
She didn't try to stop him.
Instead, she just nodded once.
Aim turned and started walking back toward the city.
"I still know some people from the academy," he said. "Top thirty cadets. Some of them are already in government offices now."
Isolde walked beside him.
"You're thinking of joining the RMO," she said.
Aim looked straight ahead as they walked.
"Yes," he said.
He paused for a moment, then added quietly,
"If the truth is buried inside the RMO… then that's where I'll dig."
They continued walking in silence, leaving behind the empty field that no longer looked like a refugee camp, an omen site, or a battlefield.
It just looked like nothing had ever happened there at all.
And somehow, that was the most unsettling part.