Lair Gluaton settled in his chair, his gaze meandering over the table cluttered with printouts, reports, and diagrams. Unlike many others at the pinnacle of power, he enjoyed diving into the primary sources himself, rather than depending solely on the interpretations and summaries of analysts. This was not a sign of distrust towards his personnel. Rather, the actual ruler of Novilter was a firm believer that before checking the solution provided by others, one should make an attempt to discover it independently. Thus, before hearing out the analyses of others, he always studied the original materials. Naturally, the duke's eldest son used this approach only during critical junctures, and today, unfortunately, contained not just one such moment.

Rubbing his eyes with fatigue, Lair stretched out. Since he was roused at three in the morning, he hadn't found a moment to close his eyes; considering that he had gone to bed at one, it could be said he hadn't slept at all. Moreover, he was aware that he was unlikely to even catch a glimpse of his bed today.

There are days when unfavorable events occur; these come quite regularly. There are days when something truly horrendous happens, thankfully less frequent. But then there are days when this horrendous doesn't arrive solo but brings a gaggle of its kin along. Today was one such day.

As soon as his gaze rested on any report, anger washed over the shapeshifter in waves. A wolverine is quick to ignite, and this characteristic of the clan Beast is passed down to all family members; from a young age, controlling one's anger is a cornerstone of their training. But today, even for him, it was challenging to keep his Beast in check. How he hated those filthy rats today! Wholeheartedly. Thoroughly.

Lair understood Eshin's motives. However, he also recognized that the era for such choices, when the Blood Debt was repaid by any means, was long past. In the new century, this approach is irrevocably obsolete. Yet, these cursed retrogrades have always been overly principled on this matter. Furthermore, being one of the most powerful underworld families, Eshin couldn't turn a blind eye to the annihilation of an entire vassal clan. Didn't they realize that their "gesture" constituted a declaration of war not only on the Raigs of Wilflaes but also his House and perhaps even the clerics? They understood and weren't so foolish, but they pressed ahead regardless.

From the reports he had perused, Lair knew that this clan of rats had been targeted for obliteration for centuries. No matter who attempted it or what resources were expended, Eshin always survived, taking brutal retribution. A smirk momentarily graced the shapeshifter's lips. This time, they had overreached. The assault on the BKDW was the rats' critical misstep.

However, the timing couldn't have been worse. Everything was finally falling into place. His services had just begun to gain some control over a new force in this world. Not total control, certainly, but indirect, and over a small portion of the Break Knights residing in Wilflaes. Yet, even this minor faction was far greater than what the rulers of other countries had achieved. One more year, perhaps a year and a half, and it was entirely possible that Novilter would have securely ascended to the apex of world power. He had personally nurtured this project, which nobody else had believed in — from an ugly duckling, it had begun to metamorphose into a beautiful swan, only to be shot down in its ascent. The rats would answer for this squandered opportunity! He would pulverize them, achieving what none before him could.

Eshin would be annihilated.

So he vowed.

The study door swung open.

"Bring them in," Lair instructed, responding to his private secretary's unspoken query.

Four shapeshifters entered the room. Each different, yet each alike in some manner. They varied in age, stature, and even race, yet they all shared a martial demeanor and a cool, analytical gaze.

These were his eyes and ears within Novilter's security forces, the curators of the main spheres. Each managed a significant staff and was allotted considerable resources. They led small, yet fairly powerful intelligence agencies, reporting directly to him, the heir.

Traversing the carpet, the four formed a neat line, each offering a deep bow to the figure seated at the table.

"You may remain standing," Lair declared with a nod, acknowledging their bows. "I want to know one thing. How did you allow all this to happen? Be quiet! It was a rhetorical question! I don't need excuses and speculations. Just the facts. Let's start with you, Rock."

Each of the directors had sworn an oath of service to him personally. They had left behind their family names and their clans. A challenging choice for shapeshifters. They had chosen this path, each for their own reasons, but they had all made the decision knowingly.

"At two-thirty in the morning..." the youngest director began his report, a fiery brunette of thirty-three years, the youngest son of the head of the Alihark's Loyal Dogs clan. He was tasked with dealing with the Break Knights.

"I don't need a timeline," Lair interrupted, waving a stack of papers. "I need an answer to the question 'How?'"

"Two-pronged attack," Rock continued. No apologies, no formalities, just business communication. The heir had drilled this into his subordinates over a long period and had achieved success. "First, a psychotropic gas, then a lethal substance that kills within seconds upon contact with skin or inhalation. The dispersal was through the ventilation and air conditioning systems. The gas is unknown to our chemists. All samples have been sent for analysis. For now, we only have preliminary data on the first component. It's a gaseous drug based on d-lysergic acid diethylamide, commonly known as LSD, with unidentified additives."

"This answers the question of 'What?', not 'How?'" Lair Glauton responded, maintaining a composed demeanor.

"Insider involvement. We knew two of our staff members had been compromised. We trailed them, leaked appropriate information, and prepared to apprehend the 'employers.' Regrettably, it wasn't just two, but five insiders. Each one was coerced. The maintenance worker who installed the second component's gas cylinders had his two daughters taken hostage. The technician in charge of the HVAC system had his pregnant wife kidnapped. The night guard, whose access codes were used to unlock the technical facilities, is single, and we're yet to discern his vulnerability. The investigation is hindered by the fact that four out of the five are deceased. The surviving one doesn't work for Eshin, but for one of the European intelligence agencies - we're still untangling which one; it's rather convoluted."

"Explain such a casualty count."

"The staff present were few, which limited the death toll. As for the raigs... Thomas, as you're aware, was living in the BKDW building. Kraas, Amanda, and Poppy were there at that ungodly hour because of a party. Andre Torino, Red Poppy, had made the decision to become an open Knight, which was the cause for celebration. The press release was scheduled for this morning. Had the attack happened two hours earlier, we would have lost not four but seven Knights."

"What about Maya Grim?"

"She left the building at one in the morning. She had been drafting a duel report in my office. No attempts were made on her. Upon receiving the news of the attack, she vanished into the Break, and we've had no news of her since."

"Keep me updated. We cannot afford to lose the third open Knight! Maya's safety is your primary concern!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Tunk," the heir addressed a short Asian man with a muscular physique. "What has been the clerics' response? And where is that Tu Chong?!"

"The West, East, and South have assured us of their full support," came the dry, emotionless voice of the representative from the Orongo clan of pronghorns, his tone more befitting a machine than a living being. "The South merely condemned the attack. The West has offered to send us an investigative team from the Inquisition for assistance. The reaction from the East indirectly suggests the fate of the Abbot of the Abode of Knowledge. Thirty minutes ago, a private jet departed from Beijing carrying an entire group of five - 'the palm of Bodhidharma.' We were informed of their impending arrival. They didn't ask for acceptance or permission, but they did notify us."

"I appreciate the distinction," a dark figure formed before the eyes of the heir, one who had visited this office in the same manner - uninvited.

"This indirect evidence suggests that Hyungang Tu Chong is dead."

A shadow passed over Lair's face. He had been fond of the abbot; their conversations had brought tranquility to his soul.

"We're searching," Tunk tersely answered the unasked question. "You'll have the report on your desk immediately. How do we respond to the West?"

It was intriguing - why would Rome dispatch another team when their delegate was already present in the city? What game was the "Holy See" initiating? Perhaps it would be beneficial to go along with them for more information. These thoughts raced through the heir's mind like a burst of rapid-fire rounds, and he replied:

"Send them our agreement. Of course, place both the Western and Eastern groups under indirect surveillance. No direct observation, wiretaps, or the like. I'm certain the team leaders will be Makers, factor that into your plans! Try to attach our people to them. Offer it directly, without games. No games, Tunk! That's an order, a direct one. Don't even consider trying to find loopholes in it, as is your habit."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"I comply," the Asian's bow was precise and deliberate, but an experienced observer might catch a hint of mild disappointment in it.

"Alir, how is the city?"

Lair's query was directed to an elderly man well into his fifties. Gray hair at his temples, a dense network of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His control of the Beast was almost flawless. A casual observer without sensum's abilities would never identify him as a shapeshifter. Particularly not as a representative of such a volatile species as the manuls. He had risen from the ranks of the criminal underworld, from the milieu of 'garbage' clans. Some might call him a 'questionable character,' but the heir never regretted appointing him to manage the capital's affairs. This man knew the pulse of the city like no other.

"It's a powder keg. Ready to explode. Spontaneous outbursts are likely in areas known to be rat territories - related to any rats, even those not associated with Eshin. And as you know, the majority of them are. Radical political parties are already stoking the fire. Some noble clans will politically exploit the situation. The criminals are lying low, biding their time. A reshuffling of the capital's spheres of influence is imminent. The police and the secret service are already implementing necessary measures. But there will be bloodshed. We'll suppress the spontaneous protests, but the criminal war will be bloody. Not today, but it's inevitable. The rats have lost many 'sympathizers.' All the garbage clans recognize that Eshin's audacious move will have repercussions. But that's for later, not today. For now, everyone is in a holding pattern."

"So..." The heir paused in thought before continuing. "You aren't aware of what happened in Central America?"

"No, sir!"

"There was a Breakthrough at six o'clock on the border of Beloise and New Normandy that they failed to halt," the heir's words turned even the unflappable Tunk pale. "It was a local Breakthrough, fortunately. Three entities escaped. Here are their images." Lair spread several sheets of paper across the table.

The photos displayed peculiar, unmistakably alien creatures: stocky, robust bodies perched on six hefty paws cloaked in some type of scales. Their muzzles were dominated by a gargantuan mouth that would incite envy in crocodiles. One image, capturing a creature flattening a car into the asphalt, indirectly demonstrated the monster's weight and size: two meters tall at the shoulder and about nine meters long. In certain aspects, these monsters resembled grotesquely oversized monitor lizards, albeit with an extra pair of legs and a tyrannosaurus rex-like mouth, a faint resemblance was noticeable.

"It appears that all the Break Knights have perished. The city where the Breakthrough occurred is close to the border, and there's been a long-standing conflict between Beloise and New Normandy there. Therefore, the forces were on high alert and responded rather swiftly. They lost two infantry companies and seven armored vehicles, but they managed to kill two monsters. One creature evaded the encirclement. The ancestral castle of the Gosu count family, the black jaguars, was located seven kilometers from the Breakthrough site. The Break Creature infiltrated their fortress. After losing eighteen family members, the clan succeeded in killing the monster. The total number of casualties ranges between seven hundred to one and a half thousand. There's no precise data yet. The authorities couldn't keep the incident under wraps. The wave of news will begin any minute. It will undoubtedly further agitate the populace. Eshin has struck at the city's raigs, who protect us from Breakouts, and on top of that, the media will be ablaze with news about an uncontained Breakthrough. Let the protests and picketing commence. Rampages should be curtailed as gently as possible. No injuries or violent actions!" The heir addressed the fourth curator. "If the choice is between damage to city property or harm to citizens, let them cause destruction! Document everything, record it, and handle people quietly and smoothly. Ohrin, you will deliver this news to the police and other departments!"

"Yes, sir!" The one named Ohrin made an indelible impression at first sight. Towering over two meters tall and seemingly just as broad in the shoulders, his eyes were as black as a moonless night. Despite coming from a relatively peaceful family specializing in the pharmaceutical business, one shouldn't be mistaken about his nature. After all, despite common misconceptions, a panda is indeed a bear.

"What about the information from Maestro regarding the death of two Korean raigs in the port?"

"We're looking into it. Yes, a call was confirmed. A team was dispatched but found nothing. The port police station is corrupt; they're taking bribes from everyone. We're doing our best to keep them in check. Even if we manage to clean it up, it'll only remain so for about six months before everything reverts back to its old ways. There's too much money involved. According to circumstantial evidence, Maestro isn't lying. A day after the call, an accident was recorded at the port: two dockers died, crushed by a loose container. A week later, one of the warehouses, the same one indicated by the peculiar raig, burned to the ground, with the firefighters powerless to prevent it. Around the same time, the harbor overseer from Skyre went missing. Everything aligns with Maestro's account. The situation is further complicated because, following the disappearance of Skyre's overseer and the demise of the Pest clan, the battle for control over the port's underworld has escalated. The dock workers and truckers' unions, which until recently had been forced to take a back seat, are now emerging as major players. The clans supporting them, the Feilis, or reed cats, back the dockers, and the Laibar clan, or steppe cats, are behind the truckers. These two small clans have always harbored animosity towards the rats and seized the opportunity. They are likely responsible for the warehouse fire."

"Put pressure on them. Inform them that we'll overlook the cargo port situation for now. We need confirmation about the two bodies. Were there Koreans or not? If there were, what happened to the bodies? Consider this a reprimand; this should have been handled sooner," Lair reproached. This was Ohrin's primary flaw: he was thorough to a fault, often leading to delays. Yet, his assertiveness in achieving objectives was enviable.

Lair swiveled in his chair and directed a new question to the curator of BKDW. "Rock, when will we have a detailed report on this Maestro character? He's unnerving."

"The psychologists are having difficulties," Rock admitted. "Each of his actions disrupts the existing models. We've got three theories. The first is that he's a madman with multiple personalities, and accurate prediction is impossible without direct observation. The second is that his projection's age accurately reflects his actual age. If that's the case, the conclusion is clear: he's from the special forces, not an analyst but a field agent. This scenario implies many potential complications. The third theory is that he's a reincarnate. If that's true, any analysis is impossible without knowing his previous identity. Psychologists lean towards the first theory as it accounts for all the peculiarities without introducing new assumptions."

"So we're dealing with a madman?"

"Quite possibly. But this is a peculiar case: each of his personalities seems quite rational and sane in isolation."

"And the forecast for BKDW?"

"The organization faces disintegration. Complete and irreversible in a worst-case scenario, or a transition to a "closed" form at best. But the open raig project in Novilter is likely dead in the water for a considerable time. For the second option, we need Maya."

"Then find her!"

"Yes, sir."

"Who's directly working on Eshin?"

"All of us are involved, but primarily - Kotr," Ohrin replied for the group. "He's currently unavailable."

Kotr was the curator of foreign intelligence services and the diplomatic corps.

"Is there at least a preliminary prognosis as to why Eshin decided to take such drastic action? They must understand that they cannot win this war."

"Only conjectures," Ohrin responded once again.

"Go on."

"A few months ago, the leadership in Eshin changed. According to indirect data, the new leader is incredibly young, no older than thirty. He's the only surviving heir to the family's ruling line. He didn't have the luxury of choosing whether or not to seek revenge; refusal would have meant his 'displacement,' thereby obliterating the main branch. Additionally, there's indirect evidence supporting the theory that Eshin's primary base was in Bremen."

"In Bremen?"

"Yes, and according to the primary theory, the entire clan's leadership perished during the uncontained Breakthrough."

"So they couldn't stop it there, and now they want to kill other raigs to replicate the same disaster?" Lair barely managed to contain his burst of anger.

"Perhaps it's resentment over the death of the family, indiscriminately directed at all raigs?" Ohrin proposed with a shrug. "I'll have a detailed report on this theory ready in two hours."

"Bring it directly to my desk," the heir instructed, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Listening to these analysts, it would seem we're surrounded by young avengers and insane protectors... What a mess..."