He struggled to recall the last time administrative responsibilities had weighed so heavily on him.
It wasn't as though he particularly disliked the job. But even if his strength and ability had been the deciding factor in his promotion to Head Captain, Lucien couldn't help suspecting that the other Captains' passive attitudes toward the role stemmed from a shared desire to avoid deskwork.
More irritating still was the man lounging across from him, legs propped on Lucien's desk, newspaper in hand, behaving as though the Captain's workload wasn't worth acknowledging.
"You Earth humans are quite hilarious," the man remarked without looking up. "To devote so much space, day after day, to simple criminal proceedings? It's almost as if there's nothing better to do."
Lucien might have replied if he hadn't already predicted the pattern.
Their conversations had followed the same rhythm for the past year. Teach would wander whichever continent of Earth he felt like exploring for a week, then return to Lucien's office to mock whatever absurdity had caught his eye.
Only an inspector from the CBC could enjoy such freedom.
And having history with Lucien likely emboldened his audacity.
"Then again," Teach continued, flipping a page, "it's telling that the most prevalent cases involve an Eminent attacking a typical human–no doubt to serve as backbone for one agenda or another."
"Do you not grow tired?" Lucien asked.
"Quite a puzzling question. I am as relaxed as can be."
"I only wish to know how long you plan to overstay."
"How unwelcoming," Teach sighed. "I was under the impression that hosting someone like me was an honor. And who can blame me, when you've yet to complain all this time?"
"I assumed 'someone like you' would take a hint if I simply ignored you. But in the time you've spent screwing arou– visiting Earth's nations, countless boundaries have ended and begun. If you do not value the time in your hands, I assure you that I value mine." Lucien answered with the most measured tone he could manage. Even Teach would have to acknowledge that hospitality had limits.
And beneath it all, there was a matter neither of them dared mention, yet it lingered like a shadow between them.
"How much does an Earth year matter in a world I'd never age in?" Teach asked, flipping to another page with dismissive ease. "In fact, how much would it matter even if I did? A single year means little when my reputation is at stake."
"I was under the impression that the opinions of us Earth humans meant nothing to someone like you. That was the only explanation I could form based on your blatant disruption of our growing momentum."
Teach slowly closed the newspaper.
Then folded his arms.
"So you're finally losing your habit of beating around the bush," he said. "But be careful. Reckless accusations against me are something most come to regret in due time." Their gazes met. "Seeing as I was the largest anomaly present during the 56th's first expedition in years, I chose to remain and clear my name. I even volunteered my expertise in retrieving your officers, yet my assistance was rejected at every turn. And after all that, I'm still accused of something as lowly as tampering with a portal? How am I meant to perceive this, Lucien?"
Lucien only offered a calm smile, which seemed to heighten Teach's exasperation.
"Funny enough," Teach said, "you've yet to present a likely motive."
"A motive? It's not so easy to pick just one, so you must give us time." Lucien replied with feigned ignorance. "We could settle on the monumental event it would've been, the 56th initiating a revival in our expeditions. Or, if we wished to leap to the extreme, we could deem it an assassination attempt on a new unprecedented subject."
"Extreme is an understatement. I'd call it lunacy. Do you truly believe I'd interfere with Veil's advances for petty reasons like that? Earth's Eminents truly aren't dissimilar from its lacking humans."
"You wouldn't have needed to. The engineer we're currently punishing could have been easily stirred, leaving you with no reason to lift a finger. But of course, that couldn't have been your doing, correct?"
"What does it matter? Such a thing wasn't confessed, was it? There's no basis for that notion."
"Of course not," Lucien answered, still smiling. "Someone inclined to stay silent wouldn't have the ability."
"Then it seems we'll get nowhere, no matter what alibi I produce. What exactly can I do to change your mind, Lucien? One friend to another."
"For one, you can keep your hands off the 56th. These bland 'inspections' only began with a motive I can easily guess, and I've told all of you from the center branch repeatedly. The news about the child who scarred Degeneration was fraudulent. Fabricated from hearsay. No such child was ever a ward. And if it comes to it, we will take action against these constant disturbances."
Teach chuckled, finally lowering his legs from the desk.
"That statement would be more believable if the person whose existence you deny and your newest Captain weren't the same."
"…"
"You tried to shove me away from the truth, but you underestimated me. It's disappointing how much you failed to account for."
There was an existence Lucien was obligated to keep hidden from the CBC's grasp, which was why he had carefully manipulated every scrap of information that might reach Teach, whether through gossip or records.
But now he could only conclude that any moles the CBC had planted among the 56th were not so easily accounted for.
Teach was clearly waiting for a confirmation, though Lucien couldn't tell whether it was to verify the results of his meddling or to ensure his agenda succeeded if the first attempt failed.
If it was the latter, Lucien would not hesitate to respond in kind. The inevitable trouble that followed would be dealt with later.
"Sir…"
The door opened, and a grey-haired older man strode in.
"What is it, Alber? It's not like you to enter unannounced," Lucien said, noting the unusual interruption.
"They have returned."
There weren't many things Alber could be referring to, but the atmosphere and timing pointed to only one.
Still, Lucien waited until Alber continued.
"It was a complete success. The Nebula has returned with every officer accounted for."
A long silence followed, as though the listeners expected him to repeat it.
"Is that so?" Lucien finally said. "That's good. That's… really good."
He kept his response minimal, unwilling to voice the feeling within.
But Alber wasn't finished.
"That is not all," he added. "Today marks more than a joyous occasion for the 56th. They have also executed the first-ever recorded neutralization of a Spire-class Shadowbeast."
CLACK!
Lucien shot to his feet so abruptly that his chair nearly toppled.
Even though only a select few knew the true origins of the Spires, it was common knowledge how catastrophic their existence was deemed in Veil's catalog.
And considering they were impossible to track, for any officer to encounter one of Lumine's mistakes and survive was already a miracle, let alone neutralize it.
"Are you positive?"
Alber gave a single, firm nod, watching as Lucien's thoughts quite obviously raced with barely contained excitement.
But before anything else, Lucien had one matter to resolve.
"Teach," he said, turning sharply, "I assume it's about time you head back, no? As you've heard, you have nothing to worry about anymore."
Teach, who had drifted into disbelief during the conversation, snapped back to reality.
"I must admit you're right. It seems you have your own matters to attend to, so I'll leave you to them."
Without another word, Teach stepped out, Alber holding the door as he exited.
After a moment passed, Alber closed the door and faced Lucien.
"May I ask what your intentions had been? Would you have done something reckless if I hadn't opened that door?"
"Probably not," Lucien replied, rubbing his temple, "but who's to say what's going through my head these days?"
"I had the same curiosity."
Officially, Alber was merely Lucien's assistant, but in truth, he was the backbone of the Head Captain's daily operations. Someone whose critical opinions carried more weight with Lucien than anyone else's.
If Alber found Lucien's recent decisions strange, then they likely were.
"You as well," Lucien countered. "To reveal such critical information so casually, what were you trying to accomplish?"
"Even if it was destined to become common knowledge, I agree it wasn't the wisest moment. But it was less about your guest and more about my own amusement at your expression."
Lucien let out a short laugh.
"You didn't bat an eye when a previous-generation Captain was somehow killed by a regular human. Or when a newborn child was found with the qualities of an Apostle's servant. Unprecedented events never faze you. But this matter excites you? It seems the times are changing us all."
"Maybe so. And I'm curious, how do you take this outcome?"
Lucien sighed, rubbing his face.
"I believed he wouldn't be foolish enough to risk innocent lives so casually, so I only offered him those I found were the worst of the batch. Could it be that I only provoked his stubborn nature in the end?"
"That might have been the least meticulous you've ever been. It made me wonder if you truly wished to hold him back as you appeared to. And to show that much worry, could there be something you expect from him that you refuse to share?"
"That's not something you should concern yourself with, Alber. Even if there were, I've lost the right to argue either way."
The deal he'd made with the rookie Captain of the Nebula had been fulfilled a year later, and Lucien had lost terribly.
"I won't stop with this expedition. I intend to make the CBC unable to ignore the Nebula again. When that happens, you will ensure the Nebula's adoption into Central HQ by any means necessary."
Lucien had dismissed it as childish ambition born of ignorance.
But now he realized he had been the one failing to acknowledge the passage of time, and the inevitable shift it brought to the heart and soul of a man.
He finally had to accept it.
"Maybe… he is truly ready."
***
It was a typical day in the Crossroad, the portal chamber that connected various boundaries, through which Veil officers traveled and aged.
The barricaded, surging black portal that had lingered for a year had become part of the room's atmosphere, no matter how out of place it seemed beside the remaining humming violet portals.
So when it suddenly quieted and its color shifted, every person present felt their attention seized.
Out stepped a young man with silver hair, carrying a sleeping little girl in his arms.
Behind him followed a short platinum-haired girl, drowning in a jacket far too large for her, as though purposely hiding everything beneath it.
Next to her, a red-eyed blonde girl and a red-haired young man matched her pace.
"I wonder how much we've missed."
"I don't know, but I'm fine as long as we didn't miss too many Day of Heirs."
"Ahhhh! I forgot about that!"
Behind them came a blond boy with blue eyes and his black-haired partner, who had a scabbard resting across his shoulders.
"Since when did you care about the Day of Heirs? I thought you hated hugs, happiness, and all that sappiness."
"I was never that gloomy, and I refuse to let you pretend I was. I don't care about the keepsake aspect, but I do have something I do every year on that day."
"Ooh, like a tradition? You really can't miss those. If it happens too often, it's usually best to start looking for better jobs. Otherwise it slowly kills ya inside."
"You don't have much to worry about. Our system's been updated to match. It's the twenty-first of September today, so even though you missed last year's, the next erasure is still eight days away."
Looking like an exhausted chaperone, a young man in a long jacket checked the device on his wrist while a golden-haired woman giggled at his misery.
The group moved as though dancing in their own world.
Even when several engineers approached to remove the barriers blocking their path, they didn't lose their rhythm.
Sure, they were a mess, as officers returning from difficult missions usually were.
But the way they walked into the world without letting it disturb their tone was uncanny.
It was clear the 56th had welcomed a new batch of lunatics.
Still, their presence was impossible to underestimate.
After all, they were the first in the 56th to walk out of a black portal in over ten years.