Relief washed over Ruban as they began their descent, homing in on the jagged silhouette of a hulking, unfinished building. No matter how many times he did this, travel by Aeriel Air never got any less unnerving.

Ashwin’s wings propelled them silently downwards, shimmering in the faint orange glow of the setting sun. They landed soundlessly on the rough, gravel-strewn surface of the roof, hyper-aware of their own breaths.

With a rustle of feathers, Ashwin set him down. The sensation of solid ground beneath his feet filled Ruban with a profound sense of gratitude.

The waning sunlight cast long, skeletal shadows across the rooftop.

The two of them moved with practiced caution, scanning the exposed steel and brickwork of their surroundings. The multi-storied building they’d landed on rose solitarily above the surrounding concrete sprawl. It had once been part of an ambitious commercial development project, abandoned mid-construction some years ago due to a dispute between the investors.

Ruban crouched low, peering over the crumbling parapet.

Below, the main entrance bristled with security. Armed guards stood vigilant at the gateway, while some others patrolled the perimeter.

Even the floor-to-ceiling windows that snaked up the unfinished façade weren't left unguarded. On the dust-coated glass of one such window, Ruban spotted the distorted reflections of two armed figures.

Well, the cult leadership certainly wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

These were the unofficial ‘headquarters’ of the Humans Against Vaan Alliance. And the reason they were here this evening…was Casia Washi.

Or, at least, she was part of the reason.

Upon further investigating the phone Vikram had stolen from the HAVA cultist, they had unearthed a treasure trove of intriguing communications. Most of these were from Riya, Dhriti Pathak’s secretary. But occasionally, the man had exchanged messages with Dhriti herself.

And although that message trail was much sparser, it had led them to this purportedly abandoned site in north Ragah.

It was at this point that they’d roped in Casia Washi. The woman was incapable of resisting what she called Ashwin’s ‘puppy dog eyes’. And ever since Ruban had figured that out, he’d taken ruthless advantage of his insight.

Three days ago, Casia had offered to interview HAVA’s deputy chairman at their headquarters.

After Viman’s death, Casia was the most popular journalist currently active in Vandram. She and Viman had always been at the forefront of the alliance debate – although usually on opposite sides.

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And while Viman had commanded greater popularity during his lifetime, the vacuum he’d left behind had yet to be filled. At the moment, no other journalist in Vandram could rival Casia’s popularity.

It was likely for this reason that HAVA’s leadership felt compelled to grant her the interview, despite her well-known stance in favor of the Vaan alliance. She’d promised to remain impartial. And nobody who wanted to stay in the public eye in Vandram could afford to turn down an interview with Casia Washi.

Given the attention she could generate and the size of the audience she brought, whether or not she agreed with you during the actual interview was almost immaterial.

Aside from her reach, however, the reason Ruban had agreed to bring Casia in was because he wasn’t sure who they could trust within the official hierarchy of the IAW (or the government as a whole). With opinions across the political spectrum as polarized as they were, it was almost impossible to discern who might secretly harbor sympathies for HAVA and their cause.

An outsider like Casia – with her relatively transparent incentives and agendas – was their best bet.

From his covert vantage point, Ruban watched as several gray cars rolled up to the building.

As they approached the entrance, the vehicles came to a halt, and nearly fifteen people disembarked.

Casia Washi, in her bright green pantsuit, stood out starkly among the dour-looking, white-clad HAVA activists. Her tiny crew, consisting of two men and a woman, were similarly dressed in bright, eye-catching outfits. As if trying deliberately to be as conspicuous as possible.

At their arrival, security at the building gates kicked into overdrive.

Guards swarmed Casia's group, their hands moving with practiced efficiency. Strange devices whirred and beeped, meticulously scanning every inch of the tiny, four-person news crew. The process stretched on for almost twenty minutes before they were finally admitted into the building.

“All we can do now is pray she’ll stick to the script,” Ruban muttered, pushing himself away from the parapet.

“And that they won’t realize it’s a script she’s sticking to.” Ashwin stepped up beside him.

Well, there was that. They’d decided beforehand that once inside the HAVA headquarters, Casia would ask to be given a tour of the premises. Naturally, she would not be allowed access to any sensitive areas within the building. But that was alright. All she needed to do was get herself to the fourth floor and quietly unlatch a window. Any window.

Then, she’d casually request the interview be conducted on one of the other floors (excluding the fourth). It was unlikely she’d be questioned. But if she was, she could simply make some excuse about the lighting or the acoustics not being quite right on that floor.

That’d provide Ashwin with the opportunity to find the unlatched window and enter the building, along with Ruban.

And with the interview already underway on another floor, that’s where most of the security would be focused. Allowing Ruban and Ashwin to proceed on their quest unhindered.

Or, at least, that was how the situation would’ve unfolded in an ideal world.

In the real world, no sooner had Ashwin managed to locate the unlatched window and slip inside, than they were attacked.

He released Ruban, and the two of them flew immediately into action.

Thankfully, it was just a pair of white-clad young cultists who’d spotted them, and not the heavily armed guards.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, Ruban and Ashwin quickly subdued their two opponents. With practiced efficiency, they knocked them unconscious. After dragging their limp bodies to a nearby alcove for better concealment, they advanced deeper into the building.