***

Fifteen minutes later, we’re gathering in the conference room. Agents are rickling in as teams on their day off rush back to the base - Team Orange is still in spinball gear, one of them keeps an arm around Mage Loanu’s shoulders - she looks shaken. Team yellow’s agents are dripping and hastily dressed, clearly coming from the hot pool.

Team Green has gathered. Sergeant Gehat tries to look indifferent, but she’s pale, her nails are sinking into her arms. Jaeleri, alone in a corner, is busy scowling at everyone who meets his gaze.

A technician fiddles for minutes with the widescreen projector, which only displays static - do they never hold conferences? - until Aeniki, annoyed, displaces her and makes the projector work. The captain, who barely said a word after summoning us here, sets it on the official Alliance broadcast feed. There will be a worldwide address in five minutes, apparently.

“So? Who did it? Did anyone claim responsibility?” Althea asks, looking at me - I’m combing the datasphere for the whole team, since Sorivel is helping to check the base security systems and Kaelich is shit at queries.

“Not in the public feeds,” I say, frustrated. “But I don’t think it’s a real mage uprising. It’s an isolated event, so far, and there’s no political turmoil in Golden Coast, right?”

Althea scoffs. “Golden Coasters don’t give a shit about politics, unless mango prices go up. That’s the only political issue I’ve ever seen discussed at home.”

Is that true, or is that what we want to believe? Althea comes from a small village, and she’s not very politically savvy.

I know a mage war will come. I knew it since I was a child, and adults spoke softly of the next time.

“It started like that in Saevin. But on the other hand, there was a long political crisis, before they started shooting.” Sorivel says, quietly, his eyes closed, as his fingers move to command his drones.

Saevin. A name whispered like a curse, when I grew up. Once the greatest city in Zelenia. The place where the Zelenian Revolt began, the ruin of my home continent.

“It’s not a mage uprising,” Althea repeats, with a bit too much confidence. “It wouldn’t happen in Keresia. Let alone in Golden Coast, believe me. It’s no den of revolutionaries. What happened is a terror attack.”

“I would bet on the Faceless Army,” Kaelich says, downcast, “it looks like their kind of shit.”

I’m not sure I agree, but honestly, I’m pleasantly surprised that Kaelich knows the name of a major magical faction.

“It would mean they’re back to high-profile terrorism after twenty years,” I say. “That wouldn’t be great news, either. And wouldn’t happen without reason.”

I feel a confusing mix of dread and excitement. When will the next mage war be? Where, why? Which factions will launch it?

I debated those questions a million times, in Intelligence School. For Intelligence, everything is about that, in the end.

Is this the time?

The last mage wars have been devastating – the Kalestran Republic never recovered, and I grew up in the aftermath of the devastation in South Zelenia. The whole world is still reeling from its aftermath, economically we still aren’t back to pre-war levels. How can we deal with a new war so soon?

But on the other hand, ThauCon will need all its agents to deal with it. Everyone will get their chance to show how much they’re worth. It’s selfish, but it feels like an opportunity. A chance to prove myself, a chance to matter.

Should I feel bad for thinking like that?

Before I can find more detailed news, or decide whether I’m a terrible human being, the screen lights up with the shield-in-a-circle logo of the One World Alliance.

Two people appear on screen, sitting behind a silver podium. One is a thin woman in her seventies, with dark skin and hard gray eyes. The other is a massive man in his fifties, wearing the ThauCon silver pin and six silver stars. I recognize them immediately - everyone in the world recognizes them.

“Who’s the old woman?” Kaelich whispers, swiftly proving me wrong.

“She’s the Chancellor of the Alliance, you ignorant goat,” Sorivel answers, exasperated.

“Greetings, citizens of every country in the One World Alliance,” the Chancellor says, her tone somber. Top OWA officials don’t make a lot of speeches, they usually only give written communiques and interviews, out of some strange tradition. The Chancellor makes TV appearances often enough, but usually at ceremonial functions.

I wonder if that’s why she looks awkward now – this might well be her first unplanned speech. Or maybe she too is wondering if this is just an isolated disaster, or the beginning of something much worse.

“It’s a grim moment for the Alliance, and for the Golden Coast Federation most of all. As many of you know already, the city of Valanes suffered a catastrophic magical attack one hour ago.

“First of all, be assured that the situation in Valanes is now under control. Three powerful mages have been killed and there’s no sign of further magical activity. The ThauCon Agency is keeping a close watch on the city, and non-emergency travel has been temporarily blocked in the whole Federation.”

The man by the Chancellor’s side - ThauCon’s Silver Marshall - nods with a grim expression, as if challenging anyone to say otherwise. He has simple tattoos in a strange angular style, but I think they say Warrior and Duty.

Althea whispers at my side, “ThauCon took down three mages. She didn’t say how many got away, though.”

“She didn’t say that ThauCon killed them, either,” Sorivel points out.

“Shut up,” I grumble, as the Chancellor speaks again.

“It seems to be an isolated event, senseless and terrible as it was,” she says, “but not part of a coordinated attack. However, brave ThauCon agents all over the world are on full alert, and they’ll ensure no such horror happens elsewhere.”

How are we supposed to ensure a mage doesn’t slice a building in half? At best we can kill them after the fact.

Old annoyance flares in my chest. When a magical attack happens, everyone wants ThauCon to stop them now, but the only way to actually stop mages is to find and destroy the hidden factions, and no one can be bothered to work on that.

“Emergency responders,” the chancellor continues, “are trying to extract as many people from the ruins as possible, and medical facilities in Valanes are overflowing, even if support from the Alliance emergency service will be there in a few hours. As for the last update, three hundred seventy-four people are confirmed dead, but the number is expected, sadly, to rise, as more than four thousand people have been reported missing. Most of the casualties happened due to the collapse of a crowded university building.

“I’m beyond angry that our enemies targeted our young people. The Alliance will strike with its full might at those responsible. At the same time, the Golden Coast Federation will receive any material or economic assistance needed for emergency relief.”

“She says targeted,” Sorivel says. “So the attack was aimed at the university? Why?”

As the Chancellor moves to speak about the relief effort, I let her fade to the background and focus on my implants.

----------------------------------------

QUERY: University, Valanes. General information.

RESPONSE: The University of Valanes is part of the federal education system of Golden Coast. It’s mainly dedicated to the study of pre-landing artifacts, and of the precursor complex known as the Mirror Maze, which…

----------------------------------------

Uh. That definitely sounds like a motive.

“Precursor ruins,” I say. “That’s what they studied in the University.”

Kaelich hushes me, as the Chancellor is finishing her speech.

“...I’ll leave it to Silver Marshall Vorishai. One world. One law. One enemy.”

It’s the Alliance motto, but she says it like she means it, today.

The Silver Marshall nods solemnly, then speaks.

“As you surely expect, the Agency has opened investigations on the events in Kalanes,” he says. “But I feel confident to say we already know the main instigator of this terrible massacre.”

He makes a pause, and my heart leaps.

“I Bet on the Syndicate Cartel,” Althea whispers, “they must be up to something.”

“It’s an old enemy of our Agency,” the General says, “and of humanity. The cowardly terror group known as the Faceless Army, in the bloodiest attack they attempted in several years.”

“Pay up, Althea,” Kaelich whispers.

“I was betting my honor, not money,” she retorts, and I hush them both with a gesture - Lady of Pains, does this look like the time for games?

“It’s not yet clear,” the Silver Marshall goes on, “what their reasons were, assuming they had any. But we know this: we stand together, and we’ll beat them as we did every time. The Faceless Army is an enemy to the whole humanity, and I promise you they’ll be found, and destroyed by silver and fire.”

***

“We have our new orders,” the captain says, a couple of hours later, addressing the whole base in the conference room.

She looks old and worn, her black uniform shabby, her stupid mittens out of place. I’m pretty sure I know what she’s thinking: that this mess could have waited for her retirement.

“According to the Intelligence bulletin,” she goes on, “the attack in Valanes was an attempt from the Faceless Army to infiltrate a Precursor site.”

“Err, ma’am,” Kaelich asks, “isn’t blowing up the building a bad idea if they meant to infiltrate it?”

The captain looks at xem and sighs.

“Clearly things didn’t go as the terrorists planned, Corporal,” she says. “According to the reports, the Faceless were intercepted by a different party, it’s not clear which one.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Oh, this gets interesting. I’d kill to work on the intelligence side of this case.

“So it wasn’t a terror attack? It was a mage battle?” I ask.

“The investigation is ongoing,” the Captain says, curt. “But any magical attack on civilians is a terror attack. Maybe the thousands of dead innocent weren’t a purpose in themselves - just collateral damage the Faceless Army discarded as unimportant.”

There’s real bitterness in her tone - and for the first time, she seems to actually care about our mission.

“Anyway,” she goes on, “Valanes is, fortunately, far outside our jurisdiction. But as you probably know, there’s a Precursor site - the Black Door - in our city, too, which is being excavated by the Rakavdon University.

“According to regional HQ, the site is safely sealed when it’s closed, but there are ongoing excavations, so we must guard it when the archaeological team is working. Secondarily, we must guard the University's relic vault.

“Of course, that’s a stretch on our manpower. I’ll request reinforcements from HQ, but until we get them, we’ll need to work double shifts. Teams Blue and Green will be fully assigned to this duty. The other teams will dedicate one shift to this special duty, one to our regular operations.”

At my side, Kaelich groans.

“Yes ma’am,” Sareas says. “I should point out, however, that Blue and Green are our most junior teams.”

The Captain shrugs.

“It’s guard duty,” she says, “it doesn’t need experienced soldiers, that’s the point. If they spot any suspicious activity, they sure as the Abyss aren’t going to engage by themselves.”

So, we’ll have to stand by a door and look soldiery, while making sure not to do anything useful. After all, it’s not like we’d have anything meaningful to do, like investigating the recent attempt by the Syndicates to send a team in Rakavdon.

I console myself thinking that I can keep double-checking CivInt work. Also, I am curious about the precursor ruins.

“Ma’am,” Team Gold’s leader says, “I respectfully ask to consider if dedicating so many man-hours to guarding the university is really useful. As you implied yourself, if mages as powerful as those in Valanes show up, what could a junior team do?”

“They can call us,” Khor, their Bladmaster, says, a fierce grin on his face. And honestly, now that I’ve seen him in action, that looks like a solid plan.

The captain shakes her head. “At least two of the terrorist mages were fifth level. With due respect, Khor, even your team’s presence wouldn’t change much, against such opponents. There’s no way we can station a force ready for an attack that powerful at the University, we’d need half the ThauCon teams in Vorok, for that. But realistically, I doubt there is a fifth level mage in our whole jurisdiction, and there’s no reason to think this place is really a target.

“After all, there are dozens of precursor sites in Karesia. We’re mostly doing this to comply with regional HQ requests, and make the university team feel safe. The junior teams just need to keep an eye open.

“And with two teams stationed at the University, we can reliably keep mid-level mages away, in case the factions try a more subtle infiltration.”

I see Sorivel go rigid. He looks at the captain like she’s the Unmaker reborn. I subvocalize a message to him.

MESSAGE, TO SORIVEL: what’s up?

He looks at me. After a few seconds, he answers.

SORIVEL: she lied. No idea why, but the Captain just lied.

***

In the end, we go out in the evening, despite everything.

It seems ridiculous and in poor taste to me, but Kaelich said something about don’t be a bigger pain in the ass than usual, and I have at least two good reasons to go: staying close to Althea while mildly intoxicated, and a private moment with Sorivel outside the base.

Kaelich, may the Lord of the Seas curse xir friendliness, drags out Team Green too. He even asks Sareas and Aeniki to join - the Sergeant refuses, saying he should stay on high alert, the techie refuses because she never leaves the server room of her own will.

I wear black trousers and a black turtleneck, the kind of outfit that technically isn’t a uniform, but make you still look like you’re in uniform. I wouldn’t want to relax too much. Kaelich rolls xir eyes when we meet by the tube platform. Xe’s wearing a garish open tunic and wide trousers, Landfaller-style, if attuned to the weather--since instead of strolling around bare chested, xe’s donning an improperly tight thermal shirt with a stupidly annoying print. A pattern of multicolored spirals that seem to writhe as you look at them. Landfall’s fashion is beyond my understanding.

Some of the agents clearly tried to dress cheerful, but the atmosphere is subdued, despite Kaelich’s best efforts. Without talking much, we reach a pub in the university neighborhood. Student bars are good, because when we show up anywhere else, some drunk patron wants to brawl with one of us to show how tough they are.

At worst, in university bars, you get drunk students ranting about obscure points of Thaumocracy history.

I sit next to Althea, in front of Team Green’s leader - Sergeant Gehat. I give her a good look, thinking about Quicksilver’s information - she was stationed in Zelenia, and barely survived an encounter with a demon, apparently. She’s Zelenian, but definitely from the north - she has light skin and red hair. She has tattoos in the Karesian style, saying gynosexual, in a relationship, survivor.

Slacker or not, she definitely looks the tough veteran - she’s broad and muscular, and while she’s in her mid-twenties, there’s something worn and weathered about her, like someone who spent a lot of time working in the sun and wind. She has a nasty scar going from her forehead to her cheek - why didn’t she get it healed? Does she like the look, or did it happen before she had ThauCon health coverage?

“Just two more years until I can leave with my honorable discharge,” Corporal Gehat says, inhaling her hashish from a pipe. “And the fucking Faceless had to stir up bullshit now. They’ve been quiet for twenty fucking years.”

I bite my tongue, for the sake of diplomacy. She took an oath of duty, but apparently, she meant to stand against the Dark Power until her seven years of contracted service were up.

“What are you going to do next?” Althea asks. She sounds honestly curious. “You won’t get a pension yet, right?”

Gehat looks offended for a moment, then she shrugs. “You haven’t worked with ThauCon before, I guess? My plan is really common. If we get an honorable discharge, we’re in big demand as bodyguards. Rich people fear Syndicate assassins, and anyway they believe ThauCons are better trained than regular soldiers or bodyguards. You can easily make five times ThauCon pay, for way less risk.”

“Five times?” Kaelich says. “Moonbreaker’s tits, I wouldn’t know what to do with all that money. Not that I want to leave ThauCon. I plan to build myself a career here.”

“ThauCon has an agent drain problem,” Sorivel says looking at Gehat, a hint of reproach in his voice, “exactly because of people who do that.”

“Then they should pay us more,” Gehat says, chilly.

“Money is… nice,” Sorivel says, and I have a strong suspicion he was going to say sinful. “But with what happened today, are you really going to drop your duty to be some rich person’s guard dog?”

Hurray for diplomacy. A terse silence falls over the table. Green team’s blademaster - a huge young man who rarely speaks - stands up, but Gehat stops him with a gesture.

“Judge all you want,” she says, sounding nonchalant. “I don’t blame you. You just got your shiny coins and spotless uniforms. And demons don’t fall this up north, so you’ve seen nothing worse than a kid going nova.

“But I was stationed in Saevin, in Zelenia,” she adds, and a shiver goes down my spine. “They say the rebellion is over, it’s all fine now. But they lie. It’s all broken. I’ve seen demons crawl out from cracks in reality and tear people to shreds.”

There’s a moment of deep, deep silence. I’ve heard so much disturbing stories about Saevin, it’s hard to dismiss her. Is there a diplomatic way to ask about the incident where she lost a friend? I should ask Kaelich to inquire.

Their drone specialist, a thin woman who barely spoke so far, leans over the table. “I’ve seen enough demons for my whole life. And worse things than demons, in Saevin” she says, her voice low and flat. “There are patterns etched on the walls, where magical battles were fought. This girl I knew, she looked at one up close. Then she gouged her own eyes out, with her own blade. So yes. I’ll be a happy lapdog, if that keeps me away from the next war.”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” Kaelich says, and for once, I’m sure xir smile is forced, but xe’s good at making it look natural. “Sorivel is judging you, but he tells me I’m sinning at least three times a day before lunch, so don’t mind him. We’re here to get wasted, not to argue.”

A bit of tension leaves the table. Kaelich has xir own kind of magic - in half an hour, xe’s chatting with Gehat about shitty sim dramas, and both the drone specialist and the swordmaster smoke their hashish, relaxed.

Disturbed by both the stories about Saevin and agents leaving ThauCon as soon as they can, I drift to a corner of the table, with Sorivel and Althea.

Which is one more Sorivel than I was hoping for, but it’s probably best having him between us, because Althea looks gorgeous in her long green skirt and climate-inadequate tank top.

“Gehat didn't lie,” Sorivel says, sounding disturbed. “I didn’t know they’d been stationed in Saevin.”

I knew, because Quicksilver told me. But I’m not going to say that, so I’d better shut up, because Sorivel is way too good at spotting lies.

Also, Gehat’s tale hit both of us close. Sorivel’s city and mine were outside the kingdom of Saevin, but the ripples of the war affected the whole continent. We didn’t get random demonic apparitions, but the war killed our cities as well - just more slowly.

“True or not, they’re cowards,” Althea says, her voice mercifully low. “There are demons in Saevin? Should we call ThauCon? Oh wait! It’s us! Demons are literally our fucking job. All the shit in Saevin happened exactly because we couldn’t squash the enemy once and for all.”

“The terrorist factions are a problem, but there were many causes for the revolts,” I say, falling instinctively in my analytical mode, “decades of recession, local corruption, soil exhaustion and desertification. Local population hated authorities - both the Saevin Kingdom and the Alliance, and…”

“And all those things are bad,” Althea says, with a dismissive gesture, “but a recession can’t break the Veil, corruption doesn’t summon demons. Mages did that.”

“That’s why I wanted to work in Intelligence,” I say, excited that she might understand my point. “ThauCon just keeps arresting minor mages here and there, and hoping the Moon fixes itself. We need a strategy, we must infiltrate the magical factions' bases, block their financing, cut their roots!”

“That would be nice, too,” Althea concedes. “But the problem isn’t the roots, it’s the top. The Council could deal with the Schools, the Faceless Army, and all the riff-raff. We did fine against them in Saevin. We all know what the real problem is. We just don’t want to speak about it. The Order of the Broken Moon. The Exiled.”

She looks up - we’re in a closed building, but I know mages can always tell where the moon is. They feel the crack, the fissure in reality.

“The Exiled is only one person,” I say, feeling a bit disappointed that she doesn’t get my point. “Even with her Order, she could hardly go to war alone.”

“But we can’t win as long as she lives,” Althea snaps, fists clenched. “After the Black Liar died, she came to Kalester, and Council battle mages died like flies. It was even worse, in Saevin. Our battle force was wiped out. And she’s still there. All your big-picture stuff is good. But there can be no victory while the Exiled lives. That’s what we must prepare for, if we take our job seriously.”

“Wait, you mean to defeat her? The Exiled?” Sorivel asks, horrified.

Althea shrugs, still looking up.

“Someone has to do it,” she says, sounding defensive - I get the impression she has had this talk many times. “I’m a powerful mage. Well, for my age. I mean to become even stronger. I mean to walk the Narrow Path to its very end, or die drying. What’s the point of aiming for anything less than reclaiming the Moon?”

I get a sudden rush of understanding - that’s what I like so much about Althea. Besides the fact that she has soft chestnut skin and oh-so-kissable lips and the loveliest smile in the universe. She’s driven. She might also be mad, if her ambition is killing Tainedorian the Exiled, but I have a thing for passionate girls.

“Sweet Doctor, you’re sincere. You really mean it, you mean to personally kill the Exiled,” Sori laughs in disbelief, and shakes his head. “I wish hashish wasn’t sinful, I feel the need to be high, right now.”

“Are you positive you can tell with accuracy when people lie?” I ask. “I mean, you made a… disturbing allegation, today.”

Sorivel looks at Althea, as if thinking whether to share the information with her, too.

“Our captain lied, when she gave us orders,” he says in the end. “And yeah, I can tell for sure. It’s… a talent of mine.”

He says it so quickly, I’m sure he’s hiding something in turn.

“Captain Meirres lied? About what?” Althea asks, looking surprised, but not skeptical.

“Something about our assignment to guard the University,” Sorivel answers. “I think it was when Team Gold asked her if we’d be up to the task.”

“Maybe she lied about requesting reinforcements from provincial HQ,” Althea answers. “She hates any kind of work, and filing requests is work.”

“Could be,” Sori says, doubtful, “but I think it was something more substantial. Navigator, guide us - maybe she lied when she said there’s no reason to believe our University could be a target. But if she had reason to believe that, she wouldn’t hide it? Right?”

I’m not entirely sure I trust Sorivel’s strange intuition about lies. But there’s little harm in being too prepared.

“Let’s take that guard duty seriously,” I say. “If the kind of mages who attacked Valanes come to the University, we can’t afford to be unprepared.”

Sorivel frowns. “And how could we prepare for a fifth-level mage? Beside writing down our wills. And maybe considering the state of our souls,” he adds, looking at Kaelich.

“We won’t be defenseless, if we set up properly. The University has theta inhibitors,” Althea says, clearly unhappy. “But realistically, a direct attack isn’t what we should worry about. If the Faceless want something from the ruins, they won’t just march in and throw Elsefire around. They’ll try infiltration, they’ll do recon. If we are to stand a chance against a powerful mage, we need to spot them first and set up a trap. So… let’s be on guard. Especially since the other teams are useless, and Captain Veirres might be something worse than useless.”