Mitch fidgeted nervously in Clara's office. He still wasn't used to taking clandestine assignments from the legendary founder of the Portal Security Agency.

"You wanted to see me?" Mitch asked, trying not to let his discomfort show.

Clara smiled warmly. "Yes, Mitch, thank you for coming. Please, have a seat."

Once Mitch was settled, Clara leaned forward, expression turning serious. "I need your help with a sensitive matter. There are concerns that Director Black may be...overreaching with some of his new aura oversight policies. We need someone we trust placed highly in his new division."

Mitch's eyes widened. "You want me to spy on the Director?"

"Not spy, precisely," Clara hedged. "More like monitor and report back on any worrying overextensions of power."

Mitch frowned. He remembered Director Black's assurances when recruiting Mitch that this new unit would confront threats ruthlessly. Was Clara questioning her former protege's vision?

"Black gave me this chance to use my gifts against the demons, like we wanted," Mitch said carefully. "I don't feel right deceiving him."

Clara nodded sagely. "A fair concern. But friends must check each other's power, for the greater good."

She smiled. "You needn't actively subvert Joshua, just inform me if his zeal goes too far. A safety net, out of love."

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Mitch hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. Clara had always supported him when he struggled with controlling his volatile aura powers. If she was worried, he owed it to her to keep watch.

"Alright, I'll keep my eyes open," Mitch conceded.

Clara squeezed his shoulder gratefully. "Thank you. And do try to reconnect with that Astor boy if you get the chance. He needs good influences like you."

Mitch shifted self-consciously. "I'll try, but we've got...complicated history."

Clara merely smiled knowingly as Mitch left her office, his thoughts turbulent. Spying on the Director sat uneasily with him, but Clara had never led him astray before.

For now, Mitch would walk the line between duty and conscience as best he could. Protecting innocents mattered most, whatever the cost. He had to trust Clara and Black both wanted that too, deep down.

Astor forced a polite smile as the brash reporter Glenda Gossip fired another invasive question at him. He was quickly regretting agreeing to this interview.

"So tell us more about this forbidden office romance with your young ward Kren," Glenda prodded, leaning forward eagerly. "The public is dying for juicy details!"

Astor resisted the urge to rub his temples in frustration. "For the last time, there is no illicit relationship. Kren is my student and trusted friend."

"Come now, we all know how hot passion burns between mentor and mentee," Glenda said with a wink.

Astor counted silently to ten, reminding himself to stay calm. "I understand you have a job to do. But I'd appreciate more substantive questions about my work, not baseless rumors."

Glenda seemed disappointed but moved on. "Of course, of course! Let's discuss your association with the roguish Mitch instead."

Astor clenched his fists under the table. Glenda was really testing his restraint today. "Mitch is an old friend who has overcome much hardship. I admire his spirit."

"Mmhmm, his spirit indeed," Glenda said suggestively. "But don't readers deserve transparency?"

Astor stood abruptly. "This interview is over. Please see yourself out."

He exited the room, fuming but unsurprised. Tabloid vultures like Glenda wanted salacious gossip, not truthful insights. Unfortunately image was everything for public explorers like Astor. He had to take the high road despite provocations.

Still, he made a mental note to stop listening to Mitch's advice to "live a little" in interviews. That path only led to deeper indignities and scandal. Astor would give the people decorum and virtue, whatever they truly desired. His principles mattered more than popularity.

He only hoped Glenda would spare his friends and loved ones from her reckless speculations in her endless quest for sordid drama. But Astor knew her sort fed on human frailty and secrets. Lies attracted more eyes than truth.

For now, he could only control his own actions, remaining above the muck as much as possible. Let the ravenous media horde howl outside - Astor would stand unwavering, the eye of the storm. His integrity, at least, they could not take, try as they might.