Lucen let that hang in the air before replying, softer now. "'Then you'll just have to keep watching my back, won't you?'"

Varik finally looked at him, expression unreadable in the half-light. "That's the problem."

Lucen arched a brow. "'Problem?'"

"You don't need me to."

That earned a short laugh, sharp and amused. "'And yet you're still here. Maybe you like playing the watchdog more than you admit.'"

Varik didn't answer.

Lucen let the smirk linger anyway, though something thoughtful flickered in his gaze as they walked. He tilted his head up toward the night sky, the faint glimmer of stars barely visible past the glow of the city.

"'So she'll keep circling,'" he murmured. "'Let her. Wolves circle too. Doesn't mean they ever get close enough to bite.'"

Varik's voice cut through steady, quiet. "She will."

Lucen dropped his gaze back down, smirk curling sharp once more. "'Then I'll just bite first.'"

The street fell silent again, the two of them moving in tandem through the dim-lit sprawl, one calm as stone, the other humming with dangerous amusement.

And somewhere, behind the rhythm of their steps, the echo of Selindra's laughter still seemed to linger.

—

The bunker door sealed behind them with a heavy clang, steel bolts sliding into place like the closing of a vault. The sound reverberated through the underground chamber, drowning out the faint hum of the city above.

Lucen let his hood drop, shaking out his hair as he wandered toward the nearest couch like it was his living room. He collapsed into it, legs stretching across the armrest, one hand dangling lazily at his side.

"'Home sweet home,'" he muttered, eyes flicking around the concrete walls lined with racks of weapons, crates of gear, and the faint glow of mana lamps.

"'Nothing says cozy like reinforced steel and enough artillery to start a small war.'"

Varik set his sword carefully on the weapon rack, the metallic ring crisp in the silence. He didn't answer. He rarely did when Lucen was in one of his moods.

Lucen tilted his head toward him, smirk pulling at his lips. "'What? No lecture this time? You're slipping.'"

Varik walked past him to the central table, where a map of the city lay spread beneath a protective layer of glass. He stood over it, studying it like he always did, even when there was nothing new to learn.

Lucen drummed his fingers against the couch arm. "'You're brooding. That's worse.'"

"I'm thinking," Varik said finally.

Lucen snorted. "'Same thing, less romantic.'"

He watched as Varik's eyes traced across the map. Patient. Focused. Always calculating angles no one else saw. Lucen leaned his head back against the couch cushion, staring up at the bunker ceiling.

"'She's really under your skin, isn't she?'"

Varik's gaze didn't move from the map. "Selindra doesn't stop until she finds answers."

"'You keep repeating that like it's supposed to scare me.'" Lucen's tone was light, but his eyes narrowed faintly. "'You forget something, answers only matter if they're true.'"

Varik's head lifted slightly at that. His expression, calm as ever, shifted by just a fraction. Enough for Lucen to catch.

The smirk spread wider. "'There it is. The look. You think I'll slip. Say too much. Show too much. You've been waiting for it since day one.'"

Varik finally turned, facing him across the bunker. "Not waiting. Watching."

Lucen sat forward now, elbows on his knees, grin tugging sharp at the corners. "'Same thing.'"

They held the stare for a long moment. The silence stretched taut between them, heavy with something unsaid.

Then Lucen leaned back again, breaking it with a lazy wave of his hand. "'Relax. You've got your secrets, I've got mine. That's why this works.'"

Varik's jaw tightened just slightly, then eased again as he looked back at the map.

Lucen watched him, studying the way Varik's shoulders carried weight no one else could see. For all the talk of strength and rank, the man looked… tired. Not weak. Never weak. But worn in a way that made Lucen's smirk soften, just for a breath.

"'You know,'" he said more quietly, "'for someone who doesn't need me watching his back, you sure look like you could use it sometimes.'"

Varik didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Lucen leaned back, pulling one knee up against his chest, the smirk returning like a mask. "'Fine. Keep brooding. I'll be the charming one, you be the grumpy one. Works out perfectly.'"

The bunker settled into silence again, save for the faint hum of the mana lamps. Somewhere in the corner, the pipes hissed as water cycled through.

Lucen closed his eyes, listening to it, the grin fading to something smaller. His thoughts flicked back, unbidden, to Selindra's sharp eyes, to Varik's warning tone, to the way the world kept trying to dig into corners he preferred stayed dark.

'Doesn't matter,' he told himself, the words sharp and certain in his mind. 'She can dig all she wants. She won't find anything I don't let her.'

He cracked one eye open, staring at Varik's back as the man stood silent, still as stone over the map.

'But you already know, don't you? That's the difference. You're the only one who does.'

The thought made something twist in his chest, not discomfort, not quite trust either. Something in between.

Lucen shut his eyes again, sinking deeper into the couch, letting the bunker's hum wash over him.

And for the first time since the restaurant, he felt the faintest sense of quiet. Not peace. He didn't believe in that. But quiet.

It was enough.

—

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a corridor of polished black marble and steel inlays.

The Federal Hunter Association headquarters was designed to impress, and to intimidate. Every detail screamed authority: the cold air-conditioning that never faltered, the sharp scent of ozone from embedded mana regulators, the faint echo of footsteps against the spotless floors.

Selindra adjusted her jacket as she stepped out, her white-blond hair catching the overhead light. Hunters passing in the hall glanced at her, then quickly looked away. Recognition lingered in their eyes, but no one stopped her. No one ever did.

She walked with the ease of someone used to being watched. Straight-backed, chin lifted, every step silent despite her heeled boots. Her destination wasn't hard to find, at the far end of the corridor, behind reinforced double doors marked with golden insignia: Executive Council.

Two guards in dark suits flanked the entrance. Both stiffened as she approached.

"Hunter Selindra," one said, bowing his head slightly. "They're expecting you."

She gave him a single nod and entered.

The chamber beyond was circular, lined with tiered seating. At its center sat a wide table, glass and steel, where five council members waited. Their suits were immaculate, their expressions carved from stone.

Each bore the insignia of the FHA, wings wrapped around a blade, but each pair of eyes carried something different: calculation, boredom, suspicion, hunger.

Selindra stepped into the center, the hum of mana wards brushing faintly against her skin. A reminder: everything said here was being recorded, analyzed, weighed.

"Hunter Selindra," the chairwoman began. She was a woman in her fifties, dark hair pulled tight, voice sharp as glass. "You requested this meeting to report… irregularities."

Selindra inclined her head. "That's correct."

"Proceed."

She let her gaze sweep the table once, meeting each set of eyes before she spoke.

"Two days ago, during the aftermath of a crimson-class breach, I encountered Hunter Varik."

A ripple of interest passed through the council members. Varik's name always did that. One of the top ten strongest in the world, a man who rarely interacted with the Association beyond what was absolutely required.

Selindra continued, tone calm, measured. "He was accompanied by an unfamiliar mage. Young. Low-level by appearance. Name given was Lucen."

The man on the far right, heavyset, mustache trimmed too precisely, leaned forward. "And why is this relevant?"

Selindra folded her arms loosely, weight shifting to one hip. "Because this Lucen fought in tandem with Varik against dungeon guardians. Not as support. As equal."

That got their attention. The air in the chamber shifted. Pens clicked against notepads, eyes sharpened.

"Equal?" the chairwoman asked, her voice clipped. "You're saying a no-name mage fought on par with Varik?"

Selindra allowed herself the faintest smile. "I'm saying Varik treated him as if he could."

Silence pressed in.

The man on the left, lean, pale, fingers steepled, spoke next. "And your own assessment?"

Selindra met his eyes. "Lucen's level was low. Twenty-something, by my scan. But power output didn't match. His spells carried… density. Too much for his rank. His control wasn't refined, but the raw force was undeniable."

She let the words hang, knowing exactly how they sounded.

The mustached councilman scoffed. "Impossible. The system doesn't lie. Levels are absolute indicators of combat strength."

"Levels," Selindra said evenly, "are only part of the equation."

That set off a murmur between them, hushed voices debating quietly in their tiered seats. She stood still, unbothered, letting the weight of her words sink deeper.

Finally, the chairwoman raised a hand, silencing the others. Her eyes pinned Selindra like needles. "You're implying what, exactly?"

Selindra smiled again, but it was cold. "I'm not implying. I'm stating. There is something off about this Lucen. Varik knows it. And Varik is protecting him."

That hit. The shift in the air was sharp, tangible. Several of the council members leaned forward now, interest sharpened to a blade's edge.

One of them spoke quickly, voice hushed but urgent. "Are you suggesting Varik has taken on an apprentice?"

"Or a liability," another countered.