Emil

His words hung in the air.

Anna stepped on back on her heels—her face aghast, lips quivering, seemingly unable to find the words to respond.

It took Emil a moment to realize the pain of his nails digging into his palms. His jaws were locked, steeled with a visceral fury. He didn’t even notice how heated he was getting.

A tense silence lingered between the two under the ominous moonlight.

He forced himself to unclench his fists. The awareness of his own intensity was like being doused with cold water. He sighed, suddenly regretting his impassioned words.

…Did I overstep my boundaries again?

Before he could properly defuse the situation, the night skies suddenly blared with the resonance of a familiar brass tone. It was the Azure City clocktower’s midnight toll. The reverberations droned through the air, shaking the two out of their intense standoff.

“Just…give it some thought,” Emil finally said once the clocktower stopped its ring. He beckoned towards the end of the alleyway. “Let’s head back. It’s getting late.”

Thankfully, Anna nodded without protest. The two began their wary trek back towards campus. This was their third time embarking on this route together. The roads felt intimately familiar as they walked in silence.

Moonlight slowly became enveloped by the dim, orange glow of the incandescent street lamps. Emil and Anna hugged the edges of their shadows. Now that they were no longer by the boundaries of the Third Sector, they had to be cautious of Sentinel patrols as they passed down the main roads.

The western quarter of the Second Sector, however, appeared quieter than normal. Normally, Sentinels would still be monitoring the main streets at this hour. Emil and Anna were ready to dart into the nearby alleyways and hide until they passed.

But tonight, there was nothing. The roads were eerily empty. Not a single presence could be seen or heard. Only their rhythmic footsteps along the paved stone echoed over the silent night.

The lack of Sentinels patrolling the streets was undoubtedly another symptom of the Council of Mana’s orders to fortify security around the Hidden Laboratories.

Just how important are these sites to them? Emil narrowed his eyes. If the destruction of a single lab prompted this much of a reaction from the Council—

He shuddered, not wanting to imagine the horrors that the Council was trying to hide. In the midst of his drifting thoughts, Emil felt an itch claw down his neck.

“Emil,” Anna suddenly whispered. She felt it too?

“I know. Pretend you didn’t notice.”

They continued as if oblivious to the thick stench of bloodlust suddenly permeating the vicinity. In the meanwhile, Emil scanned his peripheries.

Three? Maybe four?

There were a series of hostile eyes probing their location. Several lingered in the darkness of the alleyways across the street. There was another presence on the rooftops southwest of their position.

“…Emil?!” Anna whispered again.

He felt the hairs on his back rise. More eyes suddenly emerged around them—their locations uncertain. In the corner of his eyes, he caught a flash of silver under the illuminations of a nearby streetlamp. Whoever was cornering them was armed.

If they wanted to ambush us, they would have done so already. But instead, they’re openly projecting their hostility. It’s too obvious. It almost feels intentional.

“…It’s fine. I think they’re just trying to scare us away,” he said, sounding much more confident that he looked. I hope so anyways. His hands hovered over the dagger strapped to his side. His senses were on full alert, sensitive to any abrupt movements.

They were out in the open. There were too many blind spots and elevations to keep track of. Too many angles where they could be ambushed. A fight breaking out here would have been disastrous, even if their enemies were just Ordinaries.

Emil grabbed Anna’s arm and sped up. Eventually, they rounded the corner off the main street. The suffocating tension in the air instantly dissipated. He clung to the walls as he peered back over his shoulders.

The eyes were gone.

“What the hell was that?!” Anna asked in between panicked breaths. Her fingers were twitching with anticipation, ready for a potential fight.

“I’m not sure.”

This was the first time he experienced such blatant hostility in the western quarter of Azure City.

And it just happened to be on the exact same day that the Sentinel’s patrol patterns changed.

The timing seemed too convenient to be a coincidence.

***

Emil took a detour after making sure Anna safely snuck back onto the campus. He backtracked towards one of the side streets branching off from the main route to the Academy gates. After passing by several neighborhood blocks within the First Sector, he arrived at a familiar street sign.

“12th Avenue” was inscribed on a metallic plate attached to one of the street lamps. He turned onto the road, eventually stopping before a modest 2-floor residence located on the far end of the street. Beside the front door was a house plaque marked with the number, “500.”

He strolled up to the entrance and gave the door a few solid knocks. Hopefully she’s still awake. Emil stood by the front, waiting in silence. As far as he could tell, there were no lights lit from the interior of the house. Seconds turned into minutes as his patience waned. He raised his knuckles and tried again.

“It’s Emil,” he added in case someone was listening from the inside.

The door immediately creaked open at the sound of his voice. Emil let out a sigh of relief. He was afraid he would have to return to campus empty-handed. As the door swung open, however, he was suddenly greeted by a metallic glint.

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Danger flashed across his eyes.

He took a step back, startled—before realizing that it was Petra. The woman was dressed in her night gown, a tired and wary expression behind a pair of specs over her eyes. In her right hand was a disturbingly large knife; the shape of the blade closer to the size and form of a cleaver than something that belonged in a kitchen. Emil had a feeling that this knife wasn’t used for cooking.

“Oh, it really is you,” she squinted, adjusting her specs. The alarmingly large knife, however, remained raised.

“Umm, yes? It’s me, Emil,” he said, eyes locked on the threatening weapon in her right hand, “Can you please put that down?”

Petra turned towards her right hand as if unaware of her own actions. “…Why should I?” she asked, facing him with a blank stare.

“Huh? Because it’s dangerous! I’m scared you’re going to cut me!” Emil exclaimed, flabbergasted.

Her languid face broke into a snide grin. “Relax, I’m kidding.” She obliged this time without protest, tucking the knife behind her back.

The gesture was hardly reassuring.

…Yeah, somehow that’s even worse. Now you just look like a thug trying to sneak an attack on me.

Regardless, he stepped into her residence, not wanting to dawdle any longer. Thankfully, Petra returned the menacing knife back onto the kitchen counter.

“Was the weapon really necessary?”

“Absolutely. Do you have any idea what time it is? I would be foolish to expect friendly visitors knocking on my door at this time of the hour,” Petra said, pointing at him, “Besides, do you have any idea how suspicious you look? Imagine a man dressed in all black with his face covered showing up at your front doors after midnight. You’re lucky that I didn’t swing first.”

Oh. Emil glanced down at his outfit. He was in full night gear. I guess she has a point. In hindsight, perhaps he should have at least removed his mask first.

“…Sorry.”

“As long as you’re aware,” Petra said while tying her long brunette hair into a ponytail. It seemed like she just got out of bed. Emil suddenly felt guilty for intruding. “So, what do you want? Your two friends are asleep. But I doubt you came here just to see them.”

“I have some stuff to share,” Emil said as he took off his cloak. His mouth curved into a sheepish grin, “But first, can you please replace my bandages?”

***

Emil winced as Petra peeled off the bandages around his chest. The white gauze was stained in a mixture of scarlet with patches of mucus yellow permeating the edges. The ferric stench was unpleasant. Still, as a Cleaner, this wasn’t an unfamiliar experience for him.

What evoked his sense of discomfort, however, was the nasty glare on Petra’s face. Along with the frightening pair of metal scissors tightly clasped in her hands.

Why does everything sharp in her hands look so damn scary?!

“…Do you have a death wish?” she asked with a low growl. The scissors inched closer towards his chest. Emil looked away.

“N-No…” Snip. A set of bandages fell off his chest.

“Really?” Petra stared him down, tilting her head sideways. Her eyes widened with a wrathful glint. “Then explain why all your bandages are soaked in blood! You went out to investigate, didn’t you? Who said you could do that? You’re a patient. I don’t remember prescribing exercise to someone who nearly died three days ago!”

He squirmed as Petra ripped off another set of bandages. Patches of dried blood adhered tightly to his skin, prying away strands of hair along with it. The scalding pain singed the surface of his skin. Petra scowled at the nasty wounds hidden beneath the gauze. Flakes of red skin intermingled with deep incisions glared back.

“When was the last time you got an injection?”

“Before the semester started,” Emil replied, frowning. It seemed like Petra was aware of his circumstances. He didn’t like the idea of his condition being known to more people, but it couldn’t be helped if she was his Fixer.

“Then you should be fine for awhile then.”

She grabbed a bottle of ointment and began smearing the oily substance on his chest. Her touch was surprisingly soft despite her visible ire. Emil let out a relaxed breath. The soothing sensation of the ointment against his wound was blissfully pleasant.

“…You saw my intel, didn’t you?” she suddenly accused. For some reason, her hand flickered towards the nasty scissors on the table.

“Y-Yes,” Emil admitted with a nervous gulp. He had a premonition that lying would only land him in greater terrors.

Petra sighed, “My mistake, I suppose. I should have known that a reckless delinquent like you wouldn’t be able to sit still.” Her voice suddenly grew solemn. “So, what did you found out?”

Emil recounted his investigation, including the changes to Sentinel’s patrol and his encounter with a hostile group in the Second Sector’s western quarters.

Petra leaned back against her chair, absorbing the details. Emil noticed her fingers were furiously tapping the side of her arms as she listened.

“The timing of this hostile group is suspiciously convenient,” he added, “I’m hesitant to call it a coincidence. Someone may be trying to take advantage of the Sentinel’s absence.”

“It might be related to the Clash of Dawn happening in two weeks.”

Emil shot her a perplexed look.

“…You’ve never heard of it?” Petra asked, raising an eye, “You really are a delinquent. The Clash of Dawn is an annual tournament hosted by the Academy to show off their new batch of freshmen. Participation is voluntary, but most students do it to get their names out there. The audience is always packed with important people from all across Ardair. Nobles. Wealthy businessmen. Authorities of various institutions. The Academy turns it into an entire spectacle that ends with a massive banquet celebration.”

Ah, so that’s why there’s always a bunch of elites traveling around this time.

“But why? It’s just a bunch of kids fighting.”

Aside from a few standout talents and the honor students, Emil didn’t rate most of his classmates too highly.

“You’ve been trained by Steiger and you have actual combat experience. Your standards are warped. For the rest of Ardair, the freshmen class is a place to scout the next generation of Exalted talents. Remember, the Exalted are a symbol of power. The more Exalted you control, the more influence and authority you can wield. Think of it as trying to negotiate with a deal with a strongman who’s holding a giant sword over his shoulders. He probably won’t swing it at you, but the threat of the possibility naturally makes you more meek and wary.”

Yeah. I’m aware of how that feels. He glanced at Petra’s frightening large knife which was still resting on the kitchen counter.

“Okay, what the hell is the Council is doing? A bunch of important people are gathering in Azure City in a few weeks. Meanwhile, the Sentinels have been relocated to guard the Hidden Laboratories. The Second Sector is now heavily undermanned, which makes it a perfect time for malicious actors to move.”

Petra clicked her tongue. “Truthfully, I have no idea what they’re thinking. But leave investigating that hostile group to me. Your focus should be preparing for the Clash of Dawn."

“Huh, why?”

Why the hell would I enter a tournament?

“There are several reasons. One, security around the Hidden Laboratories has been strengthened. There’s not much you can investigate right now with Sentinels in the area. Two, you’re injured. I need you to spend time actually recuperating,” she said as she wrapped another fresh layer of bandages around Emil’s body. “And lastly, if you end up as a finalist of the tournament, you’re granted permission to enter the Academy’s Consortium.”

Emil’s eyes widened. While the Academy gained its prestige as the most reputable place to hone Exalted talents, it was also infamous for being a vast institution of knowledge. One of its most impressive facilities was the Consortium—a colossal library, several floors deep and tall, composed of records, research documents, and books across the continent.

It was an archive that hoarded the entirety of Ardair’s knowledge, including the numerous secrets revolved around the Exalted.

Due to its importance, access to the Consortium was highly restrictive and heavily guarded. Only individuals with explicit approval from the Council of Mana were permitted the enter. This privilege alone suddenly made the Clash of Dawn a highly enticing event.

“No one in Steiger has ever been able to step foot into the Consortium since the Council forbids our existence in Azure City. Director Hortensia wants you to be the first.”

“Do you think documents related to the Hidden Laboratories are stored there?”

Petra nodded. “Without a doubt. It might be tucked away and obfuscated, or even locked away in specific sections of the Consortium. But there’s nowhere safer to store research and knowledge gained from those monstrous experiments.”

Emil leaned back against his chair, soaking in the information while Petra did the finishing touches on his bandages. He let out an exhausted breath of air. The next step of his mission was clear.

“Alright, I guess I’ll have to go win a tournament then. Not exactly my idea of going undercover, but circumstances have already made me quite infamous on campus. What’s another few eyes from Ardair’s bigwigs?”

Petra scoffed. “You’re going to get thrashed if you think it’s going to be that easy. You’re going to have to win using just Bulwark. Even without this handicap, there are a few students amongst the freshmen class that will give you trouble. And finally, there’s one person in particular who you have little chance of winning against in your current state.”

Emil narrowed his eyes at the scalding words. “And who is that?”

“The Exalted who currently holds the title of Prodigy. The Ice Maiden, Liesel von Belle, is in your year.”