The notification arrived without warning or explanation. Keegan was pulled from conditioning drills mid-cycle and escorted to a briefing room he had never been cleared for before. The walls were thicker, the lights dimmer, the security redundant. This was not routine. The examiner didn't bother with pleasantries. "The Guild has approved a paired-operation trial," they said. Keegan's stomach tightened immediately.
"I work alone," Keegan replied. It wasn't defiance. It was policy, learned the hard way. The examiner tapped the tablet once, projecting a dossier into the air. "Not anymore," they said. "You are being assigned a partner." Keegan didn't look at the file at first. He already understood the implication. Someone was about to become leveraged.
The partner entered the room moments later. She moved with quiet precision, older than Keegan by a few years, eyes scanning the room as if assessing exits and threats instinctively. Her dark hair was tied back, posture calm, and expression neutral. The dossier flashed in his mind: Ophelia. Mid-tier hunter, stable Pact, no recent incidents, calculated survivability. "This is intentional exposure," the examiner continued. "We need to observe interaction effects." Keegan finally looked at her. "You're bait," he said flatly.
The examiner didn't deny it. "We're testing whether your detachment holds under forced proximity." Ophelia's gaze flicked toward him briefly, sharp but unreadable, as if noting his warning without fear. Anyone competent would recognize the setup immediately. Silence stretched across the room, heavy with unspoken consequences. Keegan felt the Blink Hemarch stir faintly, attentive but restrained.
Their first deployment was fast-tracked. An urban Hemarch sighting, low-population zone, controlled escalation. On paper, it was safe. In reality, Keegan recognized the setup instantly. Tight corridors. Limited exits. High emotional stress potential. The Guild wanted to see which variable failed first—him or Ophelia.
They moved through the ruined block in silence. Ophelia kept formation perfectly, never crowding Keegan's space, never forcing conversation. Professional. Smart. That made it worse. Keegan didn't want incompetence. Incompetence would be easier to detach from. This was someone built to last. Someone worth losing.
The Hemarch struck without warning. Not the target listed in the report, but something heavier, faster. A mid-tier manifestation driven by fear saturation, claws tearing through concrete like paper. Keegan reacted on instinct, pushing Ophelia out of the initial strike zone. The move was automatic. Emotional. A mistake.
The Hemarch noticed immediately. Its attention shifted, movements adjusting with predatory intelligence. It wasn't targeting Keegan anymore. It was watching the space between them. Ophelia shouted a warning, weapon flashing as she engaged. Blood hit the ground within seconds. Keegan felt his pulse spike hard enough to strain the restraint band.
The Blink Hemarch surged in response. Not activation—pressure. Hunger sharpened by emotional input. Keegan forced it down, teeth clenched, muscles screaming as he fought without augmentation. The Hemarch closed in again, faster this time. Ophelia took the hit meant for Keegan, armor shattering under the impact.
Keegan caught her as she fell. For a split second, everything slowed. Breathing. Blood. The weight of another person in his arms. The Guild's experiment reached its critical point. The Blink Hemarch roared inside him, panther shadow clawing at the edge of control.
Keegan screamed—not in rage, but in denial—and forced himself to let go. He stepped back, severing the contact, breaking the moment before it could anchor. The Hemarch hesitated, confused by the sudden absence of emotional signals. That hesitation saved Ophelia's life. The Guild logged the result as a success.
Later, alone again, Keegan sat in silence while medics stabilized Ophelia in another wing. She lived. Barely. The examiner's report was concise. "Detachment delayed escalation," it read. "But it did not prevent the initial response." Keegan stared at the words until they blurred.
The Blink Hemarch settled back into stillness, watching him with patient intensity. The test wasn't over. The Guild wouldn't stop. They had confirmed something valuable. Keegan could be made to care—and made to suffer for it.