Damien looked down at the warehouse from atop a three-story building on the next street over, the combination of his black clothes and dark skin making him difficult to notice even with the nearly full moon. Almost an entire day had passed since the explosion and the police vehicles were gradually withdrawing together with the dusk. The infrastructure had been shaken by the tremors and almost half of the large building caved in, causing a significant loss of goods.

He would’ve at least be glad the building was insured though that was little use considering Damien technically ran both the warehouse and the insurance agency through proxies. At least he could use the payout to launder some surplus that a large trafficking contract generated the previous month. Perhaps he could also fabricate a dispute over it to pay off two amicable attorneys or leak some insider information to some grateful careerist in the media. It would still need some careful consideration and personal attention but the situation could be turned into a net gain if he ignored the loss of a research facility the organisation had a hatchling in.

As he pondered those things, Damien felt the slight heat on the back of his hand increase. Looking down, the brand had turned crimson, meaning the person he had summoned was finally close. The engravement was that of a perfect hollow triangle with no additional engravings or twists, unusual for the wane mages, though Damien’s employer was hardly common. He looked around the streets right below him, soon enough spotting the red glow he was searching for.

There stood Rebecca Olivia, probably the worst for wear Damien had ever seen her. She was adorning her usual lab coat, though it was splashed by filth at multiple places as well as a significant amount of blood around her right shoulder. A piece of it was even torn, made into a makeshift bandage used to patch up the foul looking wound. Her left hand was shaking from the cold while the right limb appeared to be numbly hanging from the shot shoulder. Moreover, she appeared pale, though that could’ve just been the moonlight. The large glowing brand of a full triangle on her forehead was not worth much mention in Damien’s eyes as he was technically the cause of it.

“Feather,” after making sure there was no one around besides himself and Rebecca, Damien softly spoke a single word and allowed the power that surged along with it to envelop him. After making sure the magic was in place, he walked off the building, the spell easily slowing his fall down to a safe descend. Before he even passed the upper floor, Damien already reached into his pocket and took out an older looking cell phone and without needing to look dialled a number. As his call had been anticipated, the other side picked up within one ring.

“She is here, Azure,” Damien immediately reported, “Though she looks half dead.”

“I will ask her the questions myself,” the other side replied, the voice as firm as ever. By that point, Damien had almost touched the ground and Rebecca had already noticed him.

“This has to be the first damn time I am actually glad to see you,” Rebecca seemed to sigh in relief as soon as she was close enough to speak intelligibly without shouting.

“I have Azure on the line,” Damien was not quite as sentimental. He had never liked Rebecca. The woman was far too smart for her own good and stubbornly defiant. No amount of gain was good enough to sway her and no threats could make her flinch. Had she not been a peerless talent, Azure never would have bothered with something as complex as the slave brand on her forehead.

“Hello, Rebecca,” the phone sounded. The early downtown night was quiet enough for the voice to be tangible. Most of the local people were not keen on going out in the middle of a large police investigation, “Let's focus on what's relevant, shall we? Do you have a picture of the boy.”

“No," Rebecca was a bit taken aback by the direction but immediately answered anyway.

"Then describe him to me. Any detail you can remember," the voice continued and even Damien was a bit startled by the seeming interest.

"He was young, 15 maybe less," Rebecca answered after a moment of hesitation, "His most distinct feature were definitely the eyes, piercing emerald green as though they reached into one's soul. His hair was ebony…"

"That will be enough for now," Azure interrupted her, his tone never changing a bit during the conversation, "I will read your full report at a later date. I assume that our investigation is in progress."

"Of course, we have captured two Syndicate executioners earlier today and confirmed Dante's passing," Damien waited for Rebecca to confirm with a nod. He did not allow the sudden change in direction to startle him, "We had to move them to a hideout with a proper truth ward, however, I am going to have the full story by dawn."

“You won’t fucking believe how they found the lab when you get the report,” Rebecca smirked. She still wasn't sure she believed it herself.

“Concerning you Rebecca,” Azure ignored her remark, “I think it is about time you returned to legitimacy. After a brush with death and the violent passing of your old friend, you no longer dared continue your illegal research and decided to start over. That story combined with your undeniable genius, your colleagues will gladly take you back, most scientists don’t bear grudges," his monotone didn't fit the supposedly emotion-driven story at all.

"It just so happens that the National Magical Research Consultant will have died of natural causes by the end of the month," Damien intervened, "I think it would be a nice fit, far better than our current pick."

"Good," Azure agreed, "I am going to be particularly busy in the following days, so the retaliation will be up to you. Only call me in the case of an Alfa emergency.

“May I use…" Damien began.

"All my resources are at your disposal. Goodnight." Azure did not even let him finish as he ended the call.

"How bad off are you?" Damien did not lose any time.

“Hypothermic but not gone far enough to start feeling hot,” Rebecca began her self diagnosis as though she had been waiting for the question, “Some type-3 mana suppressant got into my bloodstream but that will be gone soon enough. The bleeding stopped some time ago but the wound itself is infected. Based on how fucking unbearable the pain gets whenever I accidentally move it, I think the bullet got lodged in the collarbone. I also didn't get to drink anything in about 40 hours.”

"I have a surgeon waiting nearby. You are bloody tough," Damien said as he moved to support her. Those wounds sounded nasty. And painful.

"You should know first hand," Rebecca frowned at him as they started moving.

"How long are you going to bear that grudge?" Damien exaggerated a sigh, "What had happened in that room was business. You should understand me that much by now."

"That's why Azure adores you so," Rebecca scoffed again, "You only ever see business."

"Azure adores no one," Damien smiled slightly, "Besides, you had defeated me in my own game back then."

"And got this shitty drawing as a reward," she pointed at her forehead as her eyes flickered. The brand had disappeared during the previous conversation but that hardly mattered to Rebecca. She knew far too well it would never truly be gone.

"Sometimes you need to fold a royal flush," Damien looked straight at Rebecca, "But you never looked away from the table, so how could you possibly see that?"

"Fuck you and your garbage metaphors," Rebecca huffed.

"I was just offering some constructive criticism," Damien shook his head, "Though, after all these years, it is about time I gave up on teaching an old witch new tricks."

"Don't you start too with the archaisms," Rebecca looked like she just accidentally drank lemon extract, "How much further?"

"Right here," Damien said and just as his words sounded a door opened to the right, revealing a middle-aged man in a funny looking sweater. But behind him, Rebecca clearly noticed the cyan blinders of an improvised surgery room. It was rather telling of the last 24 hours that she was almost forward to being cut into by sharp knives.

"Let's get this over with," she grumbled as she entered, "I want full anaesthesia and a glass of water."