While Vas was out handling the incidents, Gerald sat alone in his dimly lit office, scanning through documents on his holographic screen, lost in thought. His concentration was broken when someone entered without knocking. Gerald glanced up to see an older man standing in the doorway—a veteran with strong, sharp features, silver-gray hair falling untidily over his forehead. He wore a plain shirt and black pants, with a pair of round glasses that gave him an oddly scholarly look despite his steely demeanor. Gerald recognized him immediately. Whisper, one of the Hunting Dogs.

"Whisper," Gerald said, lowering the hologram display. "You've changed your look again."

Whisper shrugged, his gaze as sharp as ever. "Keeps things interesting. Surveillance work demands it, after all."

The Hunting Dogs were Gerald's elite operatives, each specializing in a unique skill set. Stray was currently focused on tracking Vas, while Whisper—a master of infiltration and surveillance—had been tasked with a secondary investigation into the strange phenomena Stray had encountered in Vas's wake.

Gerald frowned, sensing that Whisper's visit carried weight. "What brings you here?"

Whisper took a seat without waiting for an invitation, producing a small device from his pocket. With a tap, he projected a series of images and notes onto Gerald's screen. "I have something concerning," he began, adjusting his glasses. "Those tablets Vas's targets have been using… they can be traced back to a single origin. The same university where Arthur works."

Gerald's eyes narrowed. "Arthur? Are you suggesting he's involved?"

Whisper tilted his head thoughtfully. "Can't say that yet. I can't investigate directly without stirring attention—and for something like this, Callous would be the one to send. But she's still stationed on Kadmon, ensuring there's no breach in loyalty from the inside."

"Callous is staying put," Gerald interjected firmly. "Kadmon needs oversight, and I'm not about to trust its security without a dependable presence there."

Whisper sighed, as if expecting Gerald's response. "Then, how do you plan to confirm Arthur's connection to these tablets?"

Gerald glanced at the images on the screen, lost in thought. "I'll go myself," he replied after a moment. "Can't leave something like this up to anyone else."

Whisper raised an eyebrow. "To his workplace? Risky, considering his access. You might not get what you want."

A shadow crossed Gerald's face. "I'd hoped I wouldn't have to," he admitted, pushing himself up from his chair. "But the effect of these tablets is too disturbing to ignore. And if Arthur has any involvement…" He let the implication hang in the air, cold and severe.

Whisper stood, sensing the conversation was ending. "If you need backup—"

"No," Gerald cut in, his tone curt. "This requires discretion. Arthur's workplace is… secure. It's one of the highest-rated research facilities in the entire solar system. They're conducting secret projects under the Aetherion Council's oversight, and Arthur's on some of the most sensitive of them. I didn't want to believe there was a chance he could be involved. But after Celine…" His voice dropped, heavy with memory. "Let's just say I've learned not to turn a blind eye."

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Gerald took one last glance at the holographic projection of the tablets, the grainy images and cryptic data surrounding them seeming to mock him with every detail left unanswered. If these tablets were some product of rogue research—perhaps an experiment twisted into something dangerous—then he would find out. And if Arthur was connected, no matter how unpleasant it was, he would have to confront it head-on.

Nyra and Sarah lounged in the luxurious surroundings of Elliot's place, basking in an unusual moment of calm. Despite Vas's stern orders not to alter or damage anything, he'd allowed them to look around, and as they explored, they'd been taken aback by the sheer opulence of it all. Elliot had a place with all the trimmings—a sleek, high-tech interior, spacious rooms, and even a jacuzzi, which they'd quickly decided to indulge in. The warm, bubbling water seemed to melt away the recent tension, and for a little while, they could simply relax and let the troubles of their past fade.

Nyra leaned back, closing her eyes, her head resting against the jacuzzi's edge as she let the warmth work its way through her muscles. But then, the soft, persistent glow of her CipherSync caught her eye. With a sigh, she lifted herself out of the jacuzzi, beads of water tracing down her skin as she reached for her device. Swiping it open, she stood there, still in her swimsuit, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth she'd just been immersed in.

Her brows knitted in disbelief as the messages rolled in. One by one, the names flashed across her screen—all the people who'd once turned their backs on her were now eager, almost desperate, to reconnect. They offered apologies, expressed regret, and pleaded to be of assistance, like moths drawn to a flame. Nyra's jaw dropped slightly, her hand instinctively tightening around her CipherSync. Vas had done his job with ruthless efficiency; she'd never anticipated he'd act so swiftly and with such force.

She felt a pang of guilt in the midst of her surprise. Only recently, she'd convinced herself that her mishandling of Elliot had ruined any chance she had with the group. Trismegistus's test had been a rude awakening, showing her how dangerous it was to rush things. In retrospect, she realized her impatience had only created problems. What if Vas had refused to help her and Sarah? What if he'd decided she wasn't worth the trouble?

She glanced over her shoulder at Sarah, who was still in the jacuzzi, lost in her own thoughts. This mission, initially a means for Nyra to regain her Bonded status, had become something else. She was growing to believe that this group—and this second chance—meant more than she'd anticipated. Even more surprising was Vas's involvement. He'd gone above and beyond to solve her problems, something she hadn't expected from him at all. Nyra knew she couldn't dismiss his actions or ignore the gratitude that was blooming inside her.

Nyra took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her decision solidify. This time, she would be loyal to them. She'd repay their kindness fully, her resolve hardening as she looked back down at her screen. Vas might not have been easy to work with, nor was he the type she could easily manipulate, but perhaps that was for the best. She'd found a place here, somewhere she could finally earn back the respect she'd lost and maybe, for once, be part of something that truly mattered.

Over the next few days, each member received private lessons from Trismegistus on the basics of Anima, Amrita, and the foundations of their respective Archetypes. Anya and Madeline had also spent time with Vas to determine if they might fit within The Scriptorum Arcanum. Unfortunately, Morrigan concluded that they were too advanced in their paths to be useful to the group. She adamantly refused to allow anyone further along in The Unveiling Ritual than Vas, as it would be difficult to maintain control over them.

One evening, Vas turned to Morrigan, half-jokingly questioning her stance.

"Are you planning on putting the same restrictions on Zola and Lily?" he asked.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. "Of course. In fact, I already have." She gave a slight smile, her tone casual. "During one of our latest training sessions, I placed a similar sigil on them."

"What do you mean by 'similar'?" Vas asked, his curiosity piqued.

Morrigan explained that the sigil on Zola and Lily differed. Instead of soul-destruction, it would simply erase all memories linked to The Scriptorum Arcanum and Vas if they chose to leave. Vas smiled, a mixture of relief and surprise clear on his face. "In the end, you're far more compassionate than I would've expected."