CHAPTER 967: THE REPORT

As the fourth batch concluded and the candidate with unprecedented resonance was escorted away, a subtle shift overtook the atmosphere in the control chamber.

The staffers and researchers began to murmur with excitement, unable to suppress the weight of hope blooming in their chests.

A few exchanged quiet cheers. Conrad exhaled deeply for the first time in over an hour and clapped Thomas on the shoulder. The two grinned, both stunned and proud that their delicate refinement process might’ve produced a breakthrough.

Conrad thought finally he was one step closer to his purpose of getting his Magic awakened again.

Adrien turned slightly, visibly relieved. Even General Lennaard, who usually had an unshakable wall of command, allowed the corners of his mouth to lift just a little.

"Finally," someone whispered. "This could change everything."

But amidst that quiet celebration, Erend didn’t celebrate with the others.

He stood at the edge of the control deck with arms folded, eyes narrowed toward the screen showing the candidate’s stabilized vitals.

Where the others saw hope, Erend saw something else. His jaw tightened slightly, and the subtle furrow in his brow deepened.

Something was off.

The compatibility wasn’t just high, it was perfect. Too perfect. A jump that steep couldn’t be natural under these controlled conditions.

Magic didn’t just accept a host like that, especially in a world that had no Magic to begin with. There was no trace of natural exposure in this realm. Which meant something else was at play.

Billy turned to speak to him, his mouth already half open with some congratulatory remark. But when he caught sight of Erend’s expression he stopped.

"You don’t look too happy," Billy muttered, voice low.

"I’m not," Erend replied quietly, his gaze never leaving the monitor. "That level of compatibility doesn’t make sense."

Billy frowned, turning toward the readout screen again. "You’re saying it’s caused by something unnatural?"

Erend gave a small nod. "Either he’s been exposed to Magic before this or something inside him isn’t normal."

Billy looked troubled now. He didn’t argue. Instead, he turned immediately to Adrien. "Captain. Erend thinks something’s wrong. You need to hear this."

Adrien glanced at Billy, then at Erend, already sensing the shift in energy. Without a word the three stepped together through the crowd of technicians, moving toward the front where General Lennaard still stood silently watching the glass chamber as the next batch prepared.

He noticed them instantly. The way they approached, side by side and quiet, wasn’t something he’d ignore. His instincts told him that whatever they were about to say wasn’t good.

"General," Adrien said evenly with an urgent voice.

Lennaard turned his head slightly, eyes locking onto Adrien. "Go on."

Adrien gave a short nod toward Erend. "He’ll explain."

Erend stepped forward, the glow of the chamber’s pale lights casting faint reflections in his eyes.

"Sir. The candidate with the high result doesn’t feel right."

Lennaard said nothing, but his face stiffened slightly.

Erend continued with a calm and steady voice. "His compatibility rate jumped far above the threshold in a way we haven’t seen, and too quickly. I’ve seen natural adaptation, I’ve felt it. This isn’t that."

"You’re suggesting he’s already been exposed to Magic before the procedure?" Lennaard asked, brows furrowing.

"I’m not sure," Erend admitted. "But something’s not natural with him. I don’t know if it’s pre-exposure, mutation, or something else entirely. But if we don’t look into it, it might become a threat."

For a moment, silence hung between them. The distant hum of machines filled the chamber as the next candidate batch stepped into position.

General Lennaard’s brief hope was gone, snuffed out by doubt like a flame under cold rain.

But he didn’t flare up with anger. He didn’t deny it. Instead, his shoulders sank slightly, and his eyes darkened with a familiar weight.

"Understood," he said, nodding once. "We’ll run a full background scan on that soldier. Every trace and record. I will got his full dossier by the end of the hour."

Then he turned his gaze back to the three before him. "From that point on, the three of you take the lead. I trust your instincts. If there’s something buried in this man’s past—or body—I want it uncovered before it bites us."

Erend, Adrien, and Billy nodded, their expressions unified in grim determination.

The soft rustling of paper filled the room as the six of them sat around the elongated operations table.

The lighting was subdued, focused above their heads while the rest of the room remained in a cocoon of muted shadows.

A few steaming cups of coffee had been brought in but sat untouched for now.

Erend’s eyes scanned the printed dossier in front of him.

NAME: Marcus Vollen

AGE: 29

RANK: Sergeant

CURRENT STATUS: Cleared for M-HAP (Magic-Human Assimilation Project) Trial - Phase 1

PREVIOUS SERVICE: Metropolitan Police Special Forces Division – Counter-Terrorist Operations Unit

TOURS: Multiple urban pacification assignments, hostage rescues, and anti-cult operations.

RECORD: Clean. Commendations for bravery and leadership. No insubordination or psychological red flags.

FAMILY: Deceased parents. No siblings. No known relatives.

BIRTHPLACE: Almere Sector-9, Holland District

NOTES: Applied voluntarily for M-HAP after sustaining a non-disabling injury in his last operation. Passed psychological and physiological compatibility screenings with no anomalies recorded.

Erend’s fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the dossier. On the surface, it was unimpeachable. Almost too much so. There were no gaps in the record, no missing entries or unexplained medical anomalies.

His academic history was solid but unremarkable. Physical tests showed above-average strength, stamina, and tactical decision-making.

Traits befitting a special forces operator. No signs of prior exposure to Magic-based materials or artifacts, which would have flagged him from the start.

And yet...

Erend’s eyes narrowed slightly at a small line buried in the notes section, easily overlooked:

"Subject exhibited unusually high neural resilience during post-injury trauma recovery. Treated at a classified military clinic before transfer back to police operations. No complications recorded."

He circled it with a pen.

"Here," Erend said, pushing the file slightly toward the center. "This line. The ’classified military clinic.’ That’s the only part that doesn’t match the rest."

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