STF HQ — Hallway Outside the Interrogation Wing
The hallway outside the interrogation wing was quieter than usual.
That made it worse.
Ian and Optimus walked side by side beneath the cold ceiling lights, their voices low but urgent. Behind them, reinforced doors sealed off the holding rooms where Devus was being kept under guard.
Optimus checked the news feed on his wrist display.
His expression tightened.
"The press is coming down hard on us."
Ian kept walking.
"Why?"
Optimus turned the display toward him.
A dozen headlines flashed across the screen.
STF SAVES BILLIONAIRE WHILE CITIZENS FEAR DEMON ATTACKS
IMPERIAL ELITES PROTECT THE RICH FIRST
DEVUS EXTRACTION RAISES QUESTIONS ABOUT STF PRIORITIES
Ian stared at the headlines for a second.
Then he looked away.
"Of course they twist it."
His voice was quiet, but there was irritation under it.
"They weren't there. They don't see the demons behind the scenes. They don't see the hostage threats. They don't see the families being used as bait."
Optimus lowered the display.
"I sent Blade, Vex, and Ice King down to the city square to calm things down."
Ian glanced at him.
"And?"
Optimus sighed.
"It's not going well."
City Square — Capital Planet, Tenrihines
The city square pulsed with anger.
Hundreds of civilians had gathered beneath the glowing towers of Tenrihines, their voices rising into one restless roar. Protest signs waved above the crowd. News drones hovered overhead, their lenses locked on every shouted word and angry face.
Blade stood near the center platform with a dozen microphones shoved toward him.
Vex stood nearby, streaming silently for once. His usual confident grin was gone, replaced by a tense, uncomfortable stare as he watched the crowd turn against people he had just risked his life beside.
Ice King stood a few feet back, arms crossed, his eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk watching for danger.
Blade raised both hands.
"I can assure you," he said, calm but firm, "the capital is protected by the best of the best."
An angry protester shoved forward.
"Then why are you saving billionaires while we wait to be killed by demons?!"
The crowd roared in agreement.
Blade's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone controlled.
"Look, the mission was more complex than the news lets on. We needed intel. Devus wasn't just some rich guy we pulled out for fun. His family was being targeted by—"
The crowd erupted again.
Shouts swallowed his words.
"Liar!"
"Protect us first!"
"The Empire only cares about the powerful!"
Vex looked at the live comments flooding across his wrist screen.
They were moving too fast to read.
He lowered his voice.
"This is bad."
Ice King's expression stayed cold.
"Fear is louder than reason."
Blade glanced back at him.
"You got a speech for that?"
Ice King looked at the crowd.
"No."
His eyes narrowed.
"But I have a bad feeling someone wants them this angry."
Blade turned back toward the shouting civilians.
For the first time, he did not have a joke ready.
STF HQ — Interrogation Room
Devus sat strapped into a secured chair.
The room around him was dark, lit only by the glow of wall monitors and the cold blue lines of restraint fields. His expensive suit was wrinkled. His face was pale. He looked like a man who had spent years hiding behind power, only to realize power had never protected him.
Ian stood across from him.
No theatrics.
No shouting.
Just pressure.
"You said the demons move through portals," Ian said. "Connected to the Old World."
Devus nodded.
"Yes."
Ian watched his face carefully.
"How?"
Devus swallowed.
"They appear without warning. No energy surge. No signal. No buildup. One second there is nothing. Then the air opens, they come through, and the portal vanishes."
Ian's eyes narrowed.
"No trace?"
"None that we could detect."
Ian stepped closer.
"And the next one?"
Devus hesitated.
Ian's voice lowered.
"Devus."
The businessman exhaled shakily.
"There's a planet," he said. "Forgotten by most. Overrun with corruption. Pirates, smugglers, private armies, false governments. Nobody watches it because nobody important lives there."
Ian said nothing.
Devus continued.
"That's where the cloud hit."
Ian's gaze sharpened.
"What cloud?"
Devus looked up at him.
"The black cloud. The first one I saw before the demons started moving through my network."
His voice dropped.
"That's where the real rot starts."
For a long moment, Ian only stared at him.
Then he turned and walked out.
Devus called after him.
"You won't stop this by fighting one demon at a time!"
Ian stopped at the door.
Devus's voice shook.
"Whatever is coming through those portals… Varnyx is not the source."
Ian did not turn around.
"I know."
Then he left the room.
Intelligence Wing — Evening
By evening, the Intelligence Wing looked like it had survived a war of its own.
Files covered the main table. Maps hovered in unstable layers above the center display. Data-screens flickered with portal readings, smuggling routes, coded transmissions, financial trails, and footage from Devus' estate.
Scarlet stood over it all, sharp-eyed and sleepless.
"Alright, team," she said, pointing toward the nearest displays. "Debrief now. Prep for incoming case scans. Keep an eye out for portal shifts, coded transmissions, and anything tied to Devus' trade network."
Janyne sat at one of the stations, slumped in her chair, fingers still typing even though her eyes looked heavy.
She murmured, "Do we ever stop?"
Scarlet did not look up.
"Nope."
Janyne stared at her.
"You didn't even think about that answer."
Scarlet finally glanced at her.
"Because the answer hasn't changed since I got here."
Janyne looked back at her screen and forced herself to keep typing.
Across the room, Shadow stood near a darkened monitor, reviewing smuggling routes without saying a word.
Janyne glanced toward him.
Then toward Scarlet.
"So… he really doesn't talk much?"
Scarlet's mouth twitched faintly.
"He talks when it matters."
Janyne looked at Shadow again.
Shadow's mask turned slightly toward her.
She immediately looked back at her screen.
"Noted."
Equipment Room — Night
Claus limped down the hallway outside the equipment room, dragging a heavy toolbox behind him.
His clothes were soaked in oil and sweat. Bruises marked his arms. A streak of grease cut across one side of his face, and his hair looked like he had stuck his head inside an engine and lost the argument.
The equipment floor behind him still roared with late-night work.
Gear repairs.
Armor resets.
Power-core replacements.
Emergency loadouts for missions that had not even launched yet.
Claus wiped his face with a towel and stared down the hallway.
"They weren't kidding…"
He looked back at the glowing sign above the equipment floor.
THE FORGE
Claus gave a tired laugh.
"This place really is a forge."
Then the toolbox wheel caught on the floor and nearly yanked his arm out.
He sighed.
"I hate the forge."
But he kept walking.
Dorms — Trainee Quarters
The trainee dorms were finally quiet.
Billix was face-down in bed, still wearing half his armor. One boot was on. One boot was missing. His blanket had fallen to the floor, but he was too exhausted to notice.
Across the room, Roger lay on his back, snoring softly with a snack bar still clenched in one hand.
His armor chest plate rested beside the bed.
His trainee badge sat on the nightstand.
Neither of them had made it through their first full day awake.
But they had made it through alive.
For now, that was enough.
STF HQ — Common Area
Nightshift rolled in quietly.
The common area changed with the hour.
The loud daytime rush faded into low voices, slow footsteps, and the hiss of coffee machines. Fresh teams took their posts while exhausted ones dragged themselves toward recovery rooms, bunks, or whatever flat surface they could find.
The HQ never truly slept.
It only changed who carried the weight.
Ian's Office — Late Evening
Ian stood near the doorframe of the Intelligence Wing, watching Scarlet work through another stack of reports.
She looked up only when his shadow crossed the doorway.
Ian's voice was tired.
"I'm sleeping tonight."
Scarlet stared at him like he had announced the end of the galaxy.
"You?"
"Yes."
"Sleeping?"
Ian gave her a flat look.
"That's usually what people do at night."
Scarlet leaned back in her chair.
"Could've fooled me."
Ian ignored that.
"You and the 12th are in charge."
Scarlet's expression changed instantly.
"I have to work with him?"
Across the room, Shadow stood in total silence beside the display.
Scarlet pointed at him.
"He doesn't even talk."
Ian smirked faintly.
"He's efficient."
"That's not an answer."
"It is with him."
Scarlet groaned.
Ian turned toward the hall.
"He either agrees… or disagrees."
Scarlet called after him.
"How am I supposed to know which one?"
Ian kept walking.
"You'll figure it out."
Shadow's voice finally came from across the room.
"I disagree often."
Scarlet turned slowly toward him.
"See? That is exactly what I'm talking about."
Ian's smirk stayed as he disappeared down the hallway.
Ian's Quarters — STF HQ
Ian stepped into his quarters and closed the door behind him.
For the first time all day, there was silence.
No alarms.
No reports.
No recruits.
No demons.
Just the low hum of the compound and the distant glow of Tenrihines outside his window.
A wide glass wall revealed the mountain range beyond the capital, its peaks glowing faintly beneath the night sky. Lights from the city stretched far below like stars trapped on the ground.
Ian stood there for a moment.
Then he sat on the edge of his bed.
Piece by piece, he removed his shoulder armor.
The metal hit the floor with a heavy sound.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and let out a long breath.
Devus.
Varnyx.
The Old World.
The portals.
The press turning the people against them.
The recruits barely surviving their first day.
It all stacked in his mind until even silence felt heavy.
Ian rubbed one hand over his face.
He had told everyone to sleep while they could.
Now he had to take his own advice.
But as he looked out at the glowing mountains, one thought refused to leave him.
Varnyx was not the source.
And whatever waited behind the portals was older than anything the Empire understood.