Chapter 29 : Something Was Wrong
The station department was already awake when Sergeant Harris arrived.
That alone unsettled him.
Central Command rarely stirred before dawn unless something had gone terribly wrong. Tonight, the corridors buzzed with hushed voices, boots striking stone floors too quickly, officers exchanging glances they did not linger on. The air felt tight—like a breath being held by the entire building.
Harris straightened his uniform and exhaled slowly.
Get a grip, he told himself.
You've faced worse than this.
But the lie did nothing to calm his nerves.
He stepped into the command wing and approached the large steel doors marked COMMANDANT'S OFFICE. Two guards stood at attention, their expressions unusually rigid.
"Harris reporting," he said.
One of the guards nodded and opened the door.
Inside, Commandant Pius stood by the wide glass window overlooking the city. The faint glow of early morning lights reflected off his medals and the sharp lines of his face. He did not turn immediately.
"You called for me, sir," Harris said, snapping into a salute.
Pius turned slowly.
"Yes," he replied. "I read your report."
That was all he said.
Harris lowered his hand but remained standing, his muscles tense.
Pius studied him carefully, eyes narrowing slightly.
"You look disturbed, Sergeant," he said. "That is not a word I often associate with you."
Harris hesitated, then spoke honestly.
"There's something off about them, sir."
Pius gestured to the chair across from his desk.
"Sit."
Harris obeyed.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The silence pressed heavily between them.
Finally, Pius folded his hands and said, "You wrote that you apprehended a group of youths near the outer district. Explain."
"Yes, sir. We received reports of suspicious individuals moving through restricted zones. No registered IDs. No data trails. At first, we assumed street cultists or rogue enhanced kids."
"And now?" Pius asked.
Harris swallowed.
"Now I know they're not normal."
Pius's eyes sharpened.
"Go on."
"They were dressed in robes, sir. Old designs—too old. Embroidered with symbols none of our databases could identify. Not ceremonial. Not decorative. Purposeful."
Pius leaned back slightly.
"One of them carried a sword," Harris continued. "A blade unlike anything we've ever cataloged. Red obsidian in appearance, but… alive. It pulsed. Like it was breathing."
Pius's fingers tapped once against the desk.
"You attempted to confiscate it?"
"Yes, sir."
"And?"
"No one could lift it," Harris said quietly. "Not even Officer Grant. You know his strength."
Pius nodded grimly.
"But the boy," Harris continued, "he picked it up effortlessly. Like it weighed nothing."
Silence.
Then Pius said, "Interesting."
Harris frowned.
"That wasn't the worst part."
Pius looked up.
"One of the girls," Harris said, choosing his words carefully, "she moved wrong."
"Wrong?"
"Too fast. Too precise. We barely saw her. One second she was standing there—next thing I knew, three of our best elites were on the ground. Disarmed. Unconscious."
Pius's eyes darkened.
"What was she?"
Harris hesitated again.
"She didn't transform," he said slowly. "Not fully. But I saw it, sir. Her eyes changed. Her teeth elongated. Claws—just for a moment. Enough."
Pius went still.
"A werewolf," he murmured.
"Yes, sir. Her name—she said it was Sio Jun."
That name lingered in the air longer than it should have.
"And the others?" Pius asked.
"There was another girl," Harris said. "She looked the most human. Calm. Observant. But she subdued three elites during the chase. Bare hands. No hesitation. Like she was trained for war."
Pius closed his eyes briefly.
"You brought something dangerous into this city," he said quietly.
Harris nodded. "I know."
He reached into his satchel and placed several objects on the desk—emblems, etched with unfamiliar symbols. They glowed faintly, almost imperceptibly.
"These were on their robes," Harris said. "All of them carried one."
Pius picked one up.
The moment his fingers touched it, his breath caught.
His eyes widened.
Color drained from his face.
"Where did you find these?" he asked, voice low.
"On their clothing, sir."
Pius stood abruptly, chair scraping the floor.
"You scanned the sword," he said.
"Yes, sir. Or tried to."
"And?"
"Our mana reader shattered," Harris replied. "Before it could finish calculating. It overloaded."
For the first time since Harris had known him, Commandant Pius looked shaken.
"Do you know what you've done?" Pius whispered.
Harris shook his head.
Pius clenched his fists.
"If these individuals are who I think they are," he said slowly, "then this is no longer a local matter."
He turned toward the window, staring out at the waking city.
"The balance has been disturbed," he said. "And when balance breaks… war follows."
Harris stood silently.
Pius did not order him to bring the prisoners.
Not yet.
Instead, he said, "Increase security. No interrogations. No contact. I will decide what happens next."
"Yes, sir."
As Harris turned to leave, Pius added quietly:
"Sergeant… whatever you caught out there… pray it doesn't wake what follows them."
Far below, in the holding cells, unseen by the Commandant, Sio Jun sat calmly behind iron bars.
And she smiled.