When the sun dipped below the horizon and the academy began to empty, Aston followed the path toward the old, ruined courtyard—back to the headquarters of Shadow Ops. His two beasts followed him inside the tunnel.

Reaching the end, he was greeted by Lamia who seemingly anticipated his move. Aston was surprised, but not so much as it already happened before—the elder seems to have eyes everywhere and nothing escapes from them.

"Operative Kynee, reporting the end of the mission," Aston announced to Lamia.

She smilingly replied, "You have performed exceptionally. I did expect some results, but first place?" She redirected her gaze towards the cat, "...and against someone who can perform a Skill Concerto…"

"...with a beast that defies logic."

Upon hearing another voice, the space beside Lamia shuddered and a void opened to reveal what seemed to be a gaunt, older man. With face hidden behind a steel mask, he reached out his hand toward Aston.

"Greetings, Operative Kynee. I have heard many great things about you from Lamia. My name is Hades—the leader of the Shadow Operations branch within Dawn Crest Academy."

Aston rigidly took the hand offered to him—the simple weight of the handshake veils the heavy connotation behind it.

Hades! The leader of the Shadow Operations… branch?

Withdrawing his hand, Aston asked the masked man, "A branch? Does this mean there are other Shadow Ops outside the academy? Isn't it an academic strand?"

Lamia chuckled. "Of course it's still an academic strand. But Shadow Ops did not start as a strand, especially not in this academy. You're smart enough to get what I'm implying."

Aston's mind began to think explosively.

Did not start in this academy… so there are probably branches in other academies… also, 'did not start as a strand'... a secret organization?

His heart beat at an accelerated rate when he reached this conclusion.

What kind of club did I get into?

Seemingly reading Aston's thoughts, Hades motioned Aston toward the lounge and explained, "You need not worry. Although we are an organization that is hidden from plain sight, we are not a renegade group. In actuality, we coordinate with the Empire with our missions and have a positive dealings with them. Even the missions are not imposed on the members, but are posted as a bulletin for others to take willingly for points and other rewards."

Aston heaved a sigh of relief, but turned his eyes to Lamia. "Well, how about my mission regarding the academy festival?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Lamia's veil shifted slightly as her lips curved into a smile. "You passed with flying colors, Operative Kynee. The parameters were simple—place within the top three of any festival event. But you exceeded expectations by placing first in two, and second in one. The higher-ups were… delighted."

Her tone softened at the end, but the glint in her eyes hinted at amusement. "You've certainly drawn attention, even among our more… discerning overseers."

Aston tilted his head slightly. "Overseers?"

Lamia chuckled, the sound low and smooth. "You do remember, don't you?"

Aston remembered their conversation when he first accepted the mission.

We have many eyes in the academy, but few who stand in the open.

He looked at the masked man beside Lamia. She also shifted her gaze when he noticed Aston's line of sight. "That would be him."

The realization hit Aston like a spark through dry air. His pupils contracted slightly as he turned toward Hades.

"You're that 'higher-up'?" he asked, disbelief flickering in his tone.

Hades inclined his head slightly, his steel mask reflecting the runic glow from the walls. "Indeed. I was monitoring your progress closely. Lamia's reports have been… compelling. You've demonstrated precision, adaptability, and a remarkable degree of restraint for someone so young."

The words were praise—but from Hades, they sounded more like an assessment. His voice carried the weight of authority, yet his tone remained calm and deliberate, as if measuring every syllable.

Aston could feel the subtle shift in air around him. This wasn't a casual meeting—it was an evaluation.

"I… appreciate the acknowledgment," he managed.

Lamia chuckled softly, stepping closer. "Oh, he's more than impressed, Kynee. He's cautious. That's his way of saying he's interested."

"Interested?" Aston repeated.

Hades turned, his cloak trailing through the faint shimmer of essence. "You've proven your worth. Not simply by winning, but by the way you think. You see layers where others see outcomes. That's why I wanted to meet you myself."

Lamia folded her arms, her tone resuming its usual mix of warmth and danger. "You've made quite the impression, Aston. Enough that the next set of missions will likely bear your name. The council approved new postings this morning—requests for discreet operatives with strategic insight."

She leaned forward slightly. "In other words… opportunities."

Hades added, "You are under no obligation to accept them immediately. But should you choose to, they will test not only your strength—but your discretion."

Aston nodded slowly, processing everything. His instincts—sharp and honed from years of survival—told him this was bigger than anything he'd faced before. Yet beneath the caution, a quiet spark of determination ignited.

"I understand," he said. "I'll be ready."

"Good," Hades replied simply. Then, after a pause: "You've stepped into a larger shadow than you realize, Kynee. But shadows, if guided well… can become shields."

Lamia's faint smile lingered. "And sometimes, swords."

Aston looked between them both—two figures bound in secrecy, guiding something far greater than an academy strand—and bowed his head slightly. "Then I'll make sure to sharpen both."

Hades' laughter was low, almost approving. The air around him warped faintly as a void opened once more. "We shall see. Rest for now, Operative Kynee. You'll need it."

As the masked figure dissolved into darkness, the chamber fell silent again. Lamia's veil fluttered in the fading ripple of energy, her eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction.

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