Snapped back to the present, the man found himself at his desk in the Bureau's headquarters.

Shuffling papers, the clacks and dings of typewriters, and the murmurs of off-duty personnel slowly drowned out his thoughts. While the place retained vestiges of the historic government office it served as, with its worn panelled walls, musty carpeted floors, and moth-eaten banners, the signs of change were unmistakable. Flimsy shelves had been supplanted by filing cabinets, inkpots by ribbons, and the glow of gas lamps by the flicker of ceiling lights.

Stood by the door bearing her nameplate, Diana beckoned Garreth from across the room. "Come to my office. We need to talk."

And plunging his hands in his pockets, the man rose from his workstation and strolled past rows of desks and glass dividers. As he did, he could feel gazes from every corner, and it was no mystery why: his factory fiasco had practically made the Bureau of Magickal Affairs a national laughingstock. Though he was no doubt the branch's top field agent and still admired by many, what precisely transpired at the plant has been called into question.

Whispers of incompetence, treason, and potential sabotage followed him wherever he went.

Entering the stuffy office of his peg-legged superior, Garreth heaved a sigh, finally free from the prying eyes and the irritating hum of electricity. It was the only room left in the building untouched by waves of government-mandated upgrades. Out of a staunch sense of prudence, Diana had resisted the winds of change. To her, the newfangled equipment of these modern times posed a security risk since they were so sensitive to magicks.

"Please." She motioned the man to the chair in front of her desk before sitting down herself.

And he did as his boss told him to; the seat creaked beneath his weight. "Did something come up or what? You never call me in here unless it's important."

"Just wanted to let you know I got word that your partner was discharged from hospital and is on her way here. Properly talk her through her duties when she arrives, understood?"

"That's all you brought me here for? To nag me about something I was going to do anyway?"

"Come now, you and I both know you're not exactly a team player, Gary. You've always been the lone wolf. So expect more meetings like this in the days to come. If I don't tug your leash now and then, who will?"

"Right... I presume the higher-ups had you at gunpoint and told you to keep tabs on us from now on."

"I mean, there is that. But it is true I don't trust you to manage the new girl by yourself. Consider this my own way of helping you two get along together. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Rolling his eyes, Garreth got up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have mounds of forms to fill out. I don't have time for you to breathe down my neck."

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention." Diana reclined in her chair and crossed her arms. "We received some rather interesting answers when we questioned the victims of the factory incident."

It took but a second for the man to register her remark, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. "You don't say," he replied, feigning disinterest.

Either he imagined it, or the woman's golden irises sparked as she eyed him up—regardless, there was a clear intent behind the way she phrased her comment. "Know what they all said?"

"If I were capable of reading minds, I wouldn't be in this business."

Diana laughed at his retort and leaned in. "Every single one of them was just as clueless as you were. None of the workers or overseers could explain how they escaped the factory alive."

"And you found this interesting? That everyone experienced the same thing I did?"

"Well, I chalked up your vague recollection of events to you being shell-shocked or injured. There's never been a case where so many innocents survive a zone failure without explanation."

"You know what they say: there's a first for everything." Garreth sat back down, his fear of being figured out assuaged. "For all we know, there could've been an illusionist among the magi."

"That's always a possibility..."

"Listen, you may be comfortable lying to me through your teeth, but that doesn't mean I am to you. Transparency goes both ways, so let's set aside all this suspicion and agree to lay it bare, alright?"

"You're right. It was rash of me to think this reeked of collusion with the magi." She clasped her hands together, lips quirked into a smile. "Or so I thought... until these came in yesterday."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Reaching into the drawer below her desk, the woman pulled out two ashy porcelain masks, one intact and the other damaged, and set them before the man, whose confidence wavered at the sight.

"If I recall correctly, there were four magi in that factory. Yet the investigation team combed the site countless times and only managed to find two masks. Doesn't add up, does it?" And Diana knitted her crimson brows, her expression darkened. "Say, Gary... when you so boldly declared that transparency goes both ways, did you truly mean it, I wonder?"

"Am I to take this as an accusation?"

"You can take it however you please."

"To begin with, this proves nothing. There are myriad ways to account for the absence of all four masks. Some of them could've been destroyed in the blast, crushed beneath the rubble..."

"These masks were enchanted to resist every element, mithril being the exception, obviously." Gently, the woman flipped the unbroken mask and revealed the runic inscriptions along its interior.

"These were bluebloods down on their luck. Who knows if they cheaped out on the enchantments for the other two? There was very clearly a hierarchy in that group."

"And you think that's how it'll come across to the ministry?"

"What does the ministry have to do with this?"

"Truth is, the top brass has been demanding a proper explanation for the incident. They have no idea what to tell the people, while we ourselves are none the wiser. Put simply, they're raring to jump at any opportunity to assign a scapegoat. Know where I'm going with this?"

"I'm the one in their crosshairs?"

"Had your knife-eared partner not been mortally wounded, she would've taken the fall instead. That isn't to say she hasn't gotten her fair share of the blame from the general public, but this narrative of you conspiring with the magi aligns with the info we have at hand, at least."

"Bigwigs really don't want to lose face, huh?"

"Bearing that in mind, Gary, I'll give you this one chance to come clean and tell me the truth." Diana rested her elbows on her desk and pierced the man with a fiery glare. "Did you or did you not let the magi go in exchange for your, your partners', and the other hostages' safety?"

Sunbeams filtered through the blinds that obscured the window behind her, casting a striped spotlight on the blemished white faces that mirrored the man's own. Medals and trophies lined the shelves, their gleam dulled by the layers of dust that clung to them. As distant whirs of automobiles zipped by outside, Garreth was left to stare blankly at the pair of visages and mull over his response amid a suffocating stillness.

"Don't you dare give me that," he growled, gritting his teeth. "Bluebloods, man, woman, and child, are freaks of nature. Never in a million years would I ever think to spare a single magus. They're irredeemable. I'd gladly kill each and every one of those accursed fucks if I could. Especially that bastard... the one who killed Cait and... and our kid... If I ever got my hands on that scumbag..."

Diana carefully gauged his reaction, only to mould her frown into a beam of approval. "I assumed as much. There's no way a guy like you would ever cooperate with magi. You always struck me as the sort who'd rather die than reason with those abominations."

"I ought to kick your ass for implying otherwise." Slackening his posture, he slumped against his seat.

"Nevertheless, the fact remains that the evidence, however circumstantial, is stacked against you. Fortunately, I haven't informed my superiors about these masks, nor do I plan to."

"Then that settles it."

"Not exactly. You're on thin ice, and odds are, the ministry will be watching your every move."

"So you're asking me to keep a low profile, is that it?"

"Until budget talks are over, yes. Predictably, the higher-ups are having a hard time justifying their wages in light of the recent incident. They'll take any victory they can at this point."

"Well, I'll try not to get myself in trouble then." Lifting himself from his chair, the man sauntered over to the door and paused as he was about to take his leave. "Oh, and thank you, Diana. For believing in me."

Startled by his expression of gratitude, the woman chuckled. "Hey, we've known each other for decades. It's only natural I come to your defence when the world is against you."

"Others wouldn't do the same in your position. I seriously owe you one."

"Just don't say I never did well by you. If that isn't enough, you could always buy me an ale."

"No, anything but alcohol. Last time we fetched up in a pub and got drinking, you got into a fistfight with an orc and emptied your stomach all over a lamppost in full view of Merlington Square."

"Cut me some slack; that was ages ago!"

"That was last month. And I had to foot the bill since you'd passed out in the corner, remember?"

"S-strange, my memory of that's rather hazy..." Diana wrenched out a grin.

And he shook his head and sighed. "Well, I'll consider it. Catch you later, Diana."

Leaving the office, Garreth pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. While he was relieved that his boss had taken his side, exploiting her trust didn't sit well with him. Learning that the ministry was after him was also a revelation that weighed heavily on his mind. Never once did he think he'd provoke the ire of the suits. They were a serious threat if they had dirt on him. In short, the man was in a bind, one that would only worsen as time went by.

"Fuck it, I need a smoke," he thought to himself as he shuffled to the stairwell.

As he descended the steps, ignoring the glances he drew from passersby, he overheard a commotion from down below. Curious, he decided to investigate the noise. Reaching the ground floor, he took note of the gathering of men by the lobby entrance. And he strode up to the receptionist, a frightened cat girl who hid behind her desk as she watched the whole thing unfold. Her saffron fur stood on end, and her whiskers shivered.