Erend stood still with his eyes fixed on the map mounted on the far wall. His expression remained composed and calm despite the gravity of what was at stake.
His eyes drifted slowly across the floorplan of the facility, tracing corridors, terminals, storage units, and conduits, examining the structure with the focus of a hunter analyzing the path of his prey. Which at this point, he kinda is.
General Lennard sat at his desk nearby and silently observed him. There was a subtle tightness in his face but he masked it well, at least outwardly.
From a drawer, he pulled out a small tin of chocolate cookies then popped one into his mouth, and chewed slowly as he watched Erend with vague curiosity.
Two minutes passed. Still, Erend didn't move or speak. Just staring at the map while staying silent.
General Lennard finally leaned forward, his patience thinning.
"What exactly are you looking at, Drake?" he asked.
Erend didn't turn to him at first. "Trying to see where to begin, sir."
Then, without changing tone, he looked over his shoulder. "I might have a start."
He turned and walked toward the door.
Lennard blinked, chewing the last bit of his cookie, then let out a quiet sigh. He watched the door close behind Erend before leaning back in his chair.
He reached for another cookie.
The general knew very little about Magic. At least, not in the way Erend or the others did. Truthfully, he was afraid to dig deeper into it moreover having it.
Leading this project was supposed to be a triumph for him, mankind reclaiming control over the chaos Magic once brought.
But deep inside, Lennard wasn't so sure they should. Not after what happened with the President years ago. But he knows that they must, or the danger that Erend told him will have a much worse impact.
But he didn't even want the power and he would just let the soldiers wield it. However, later, he was certain that if the project were succeeded he would also need to take that power.
He bit into another cookie and sighed again.
"Whatever happens," he muttered under his breath, "I'll do my part."
Then, after a pause, added with faint approval, "Hm… this cookie's really good." Findthischapter'ssourceonMV-LEM-PYR.
At least he had those cookies right now.
Erend moved swiftly through the facility's side corridors, heading toward the repurposed industrial wing now known as Sector Nine-B that was once a manufacturing floor but now converted into storage, auxiliary systems control, and staff operations.
The area was dimmer than the central hall, filled with rows of pipes and humming machinery.
A few staffers milled about. Some doing late checks, others on break.
He spotted two men off to the side, lingering in the small designated smoking zone tucked between large coolant stacks.
They didn't notice him.
He didn't move closer and just observed from afar.
Closing his eyes briefly, Erend tapped into his Dragonborn senses.
The world shifted slightly. Colors dulled while emotional heat bloomed like invisible fire. He sought out fluctuations of emotion like fear, anxiety, or maybe guilt. Anything sharp and distinct that came from a spy.
Then he felt a spike of nervousness. Tense and twitchy. Like prey that knows it's in dangerous territory.
It came from the smoking area.
Erend sharpened his focus and extended his Dragon hearing, gently filtering out background noise until he honed in on their voices.
"Let's send the intel at midnight," one of them whispered.
"Yeah. I already got the candidates' names and most of the machine specs," the other replied, exhaling smoke. "Still, I'm kinda nervous. Those veterans are here too."
Both their emotional fields were clear now: anxious, and unstable.
Erend didn't need more.
He shifted slightly around the corner, catching a better glimpse of their faces and memorizing them in a second.
Then he turned away silently, vanishing back into the shadow of Sector Nine-B. No confrontation yet. He had their scent now and he wasn't letting go.
Erend returned to the General's office not long after, his steps steady and his expression were stern now that he had found his prey.
He gave a simple report to General Lennard, informing him that he would remain in the facility until tomorrow.
No explanation. Just a quiet statement of intent.
Lennard didn't question it because he understood that he was just starting his investigation.
He simply gave a slow nod and handed Erend a small keycard. "Do what you need to do, Drake."
Erend accepted the card, gave a short nod of acknowledgment, and turned to leave.
He made his way toward the living quarters where the chosen candidates were staying.
The halls here were quieter, marked by low lighting and the faint hum of overhead systems.
His boots thudded softly against the polished floor as he walked past a few idle guards and crew.
Along the way, he activated his Dragonborn senses again. The world dimmed slightly as his perception stretched. He didn't just look but he felt his surroundings. The pulse of emotions in the air like the calmness, fatigue, and a few flickers of excitement. No signs of panic, skittish, or coiled intent. No deceit.
He relaxed slightly. There were no spies here. He was confident in that. After all, he, Billy, and Captain Boartusk had chosen these candidates themselves. They'd handpicked each one through background checks, instincts, and hours of tests.
Still, it didn't stop Erend from checking. Vigilance was natural now.
He reached his assigned room. The door recognized the keycard with a soft beep, and it slid open.
The room was simple but clean. A standard military living space. There was a bed, a desk, and a small bathroom. No windows.
Erend stepped inside and let the door close behind him.
He didn't take off his armor yet. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, eyes staring ahead at nothing. The silence settled in around him.
A tight knot of nervousness coiled in his chest.
Just… pressure, weight. The sense that something massive was about to change. Something was coming and he had to be ready. Hopefully, the call to action from Krono will not come too soon.
He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and let the quiet hold him for a moment.