The Capital had been violated; Devastation had been brought to Haringpoint as the vulgarian Otherworlders defiled the most sacred of bastions of Slaegia by their profane presence.

The panic within the Senate had been intense with guards aiding fainting Noble Lady's and soothing the outraged Lords and Princes of this most unconscionable of denouements.

All around the Capital, reports of routs and defilements soared through the Imperial Elite's ears that many began to despair, doomsaying that the End of all Times had finally came. For Emperor Uldin, His Imperial Majesty of the Slaegian Empire, he has been cruelly trapped in an unceasing yet oh so graphic daymare. A horror that he could not wake up from no matter how hard he fought to rouse away from its grasp. Such manifestations of his many aged anxieties have now come to seek its fruition for the long-ruling steward of Ysanigrad. All around Uldin, the very long-aged enemies of the Empire appear before Haringpoint's enshrined burghal heart: The Lich-King Martainne marching side by side with the Goblin Hordes and the Beastfolk Tribes had lain their obscene presence upon the immaculate city of Haringpoint.

Try as his Legions had might, but their strength alone was simply not enough to withstand such a cataclysm. All the lifetimes of diligent work by his ancestors and generations of the Slaegian peoples have begun to crumble, neigh, burn before their very eyes as the Otherworlders devour all they touch. Worse, some Legionaries report that the Shareholder herself is butchering the Fellowship of the Light along with her Vampiric Mistress, the corrupted Elven Princess and the treasonous Karliah. He couldn't comprehend that Chosen One known as 'the Shareholder' and secondly Lady Silverdane would turn their swords against their people without hesitation or thought. Were there previous attempts to dispel their enthralling too weak to disenchant whatever spell they were permeated by? Or were their wills held a deeper of tales behind such seditious acts?

Yet despite all of those betrayals, the most frigid of them all had now braved his treacherous head for all of the Empire to see: The sight of the rebellious Vassal-Prince himself, Clovich Rian who had vivaciously announced his treasonous act of 'Amelioration' atop his Demonic Steed. Brazenly staking his Claim upon the Imperial Throne for his own selfish grandeur, boasting his patronage to his new Demonic Masters. After all that the Empire had given to him, his land, his titles, his wealth and yet it was not enough? Such a callow announcement of his delusions, now insultingly unfolding into reality before the Emperor's eyes would have enraged the aged sovereign to a temper he had never fathomed of seething.

What great transgression that he and the Empire had done that the Gods abandoned all favor of to him and his people?

"My Lord." Ser Huguet hurriedly bowed before the Emperor.

"What more grief can you give me?" reddened tears fell from Uldin's eyes as he looked at the Legion's Marshall.

"I bring none milord." Huguet explained himself. "But your bodyguards, the Teaghlaigh Garda urge you and as many of your Court and Imperial Possessions depart from the Capital at once whilst there is still a chance for escape."

The Emperor caught his heavy respiration. "Escape… Escape… We must flee away from here…" walking urgently as his weary body could to his luggage and his two children.

"Milord I am afraid we are not likely to save all of our possessions." Grandmaster Owyne approached the Emperor. He was accompanied by a now placid albeit anxious Faithleann, Mita the Crow Master and Ser Reikdorf.

The Crow Master crashed her fist by the wall. Her suspicions of their previous Elven guest confirmed, "That Black Elf lied to us!" Mita snarled. "There is no other means to explain how the Otherworlder's came here so fast than his army WAS defeated by the Demons. 'I delayed them by one week'." The pale woman mocked his condescending la-di-da accent. She had always distrusted in general with the Elves of Alfel Nora, although she is marginally allied to say the politest of terms with the Entente, she never hides her disdain for the Black Tree Pact's. Always seem to eloquently speaking in words with double meanings.

"We may get our revenge against that fabulist one day Crow Master. But there is much work and killing that we need to do today." Faithleann's blood boiled.

"What relics should the College and the Adventurer's Guild escape with?" Petur Reikdorf stepped forward.

"Enchanted Items… a-a-and Scrolls from the Arcaneum. We will need them for the coming tempest ahead…" the Emperor answered with what little clarity he could spare. "What do you advise for what remains of our Legions?" he asked.

"Having them all gathered in one place will only put them at risk. I have already sent messengers to halt the Northern Legions from advancing southwards and told them to garrison every fort and settlement north of Marves. I will, with my retinue march northward to congregate with my forces with the Chosen One Ser Garmhaic to organize a resistance against the invaders. As for you milord and your Court. Ambassador Hamtumil has arranged you passage across the sea to gain refuge within Ethuilen under King Aslanidor's sanctuary. From the safety of the Entente, you and the surviving officials of the Llywodraeth Ymerodrol can continue to rule over what remains of our lands."

"How much time then do we have until the Otherworlders fully overrun the Capital?" Petur asked the Marshal.

"For as long as we continue to hold the last three Mana Obelisks, we could still hold them off to allow the escape of as many of our people as possible but at the rate the Otherworlders are flowing into our city, I fear we may only have just the day until they cut off all avenues of escape." He answered. "Of strangely fortunate tidings, the Otherworlders do not seem to be that much interested in pillaging the Burgs. Rounding up the populace away from their fighting with my men." Huguet answered, his voice dipping upon the last stretches of his sentence.

"By the Gods! They are corralling them like cattle for the slaughter." Owyne wailed.

Faithleann clenched his fist. "They shall surely pay for this atrocity." The Chosen One barked.

"This… unfortunate… revelation however does leave us a hopeful prospect… as this behavior un----"

Owyne cut him off. "How can you speak those words of our people?! The Demons will devour them whole to multiply their numbers further!" he exclaimed.

"Grandmaster, forgive my asinine words but my focus is the survival… the Continuity of our Dominion over the Realm. Our people need leaders… heroes to guide them through this dark time. We cannot argue here and now whilst the barbarians and traitors run loose on our streets searching for us. We must leave and save all that we can so that we may have a glimmer that we could return to our former strength." The Marshal explained.

Owyne was silenced begrudgingly, the Marshall was right. All they can do is flee and fight another day. There is nothing to gain by valiantly standing here in a city doomed to be conquered by the Alboen's Hordes. Even the Emperor had to reluctantly conjoin to his thinking. Continuance is the antecedence of this day.

"See it done then Ser Huguet. Begin the withdrawal." Uldin affirmed.

"Your will be done." The Grandmaster, the Chosen One's party and the Grand Marhsal bowed.

"Father?" Estrice tugged Uldin's azure royal robes. "Do we really have to leave?" she asked.

The Emperor dropped his noble demeanor to the character of a father as he knelt down onto her height. "My daughter, you have so much life ahead of you… it is for our own safety…" Uldin explained as much as he could. "Alfel Nora is quite a wondrous place to visit. Not even your storybooks and all the paintings around our home could match the Elven homeland's splendor."

"We will be safe there? I hope so…" Arthurfrir whimpered.

"Milord, we must begin the evacuation starting with your household." One of Huguet's Guards walked towards him and bowed.

Grabbing their precious possessions, Uldin lead his children, their personal servants and their servant's families into the Kobold's Hollow. It was a grand network of hallways underneath the streets of Haringpoint that is used by the denizens of the Imperial Capital as a means to store their food stuffs and other important supplies safely in a cool environment and as an additional, more discreet channel for navigation avoiding the hustle and bustle of Haringpoint's cosmopolitan surface connecting many major landmarks and important centers from the Senate Building, the Cathederal, the Elven Ward, the Docks and even the College. However, the Hollow also housed a seedy reputation as a popular congregation, an entire gallery by citizenry as to say of the less scrupulous members of Slaegian Society. Such playful findings range from tariff-dodging Merchants, bestial-focused establishments and the disreputable of cutthroats and what not of the archetype of the word 'Rogue'.

Using clandestine hoods to allow them to travel incognito through the chaotic crowd of panicked Imperial Cityfolks and blitzed of Legionnaires trying to control the masses fears unnoticed. Their destination being the College of Magi where within the great chamber of the Mirror of Aunsellus a ritual Spell is being prepared to evacuate the Imperial Elites away from the fallen Capital.

Meanwhile, Faithleann along with his party went ahead with Grandmaster Owyne as they swam through the sea of souls ahead of the Imperial Entourage. Their task as stated by the highest authority: Coordinate the rescue of precious relics from the three of the most important buildings of Haringpoint that houses them.

The Grand Lodge of the Grey Order, the Cathedral Vaults and before lastly the College of Magi itself where they will evacuate from.

[-]

At long last, he has arrived at the Hornet's Nest…

"Clear!" Agent De Sardet shouted as he backed off from the main entrance of the Grand Lodge, the Headquarters of the much bothersome of foes, the Adventurer's Guild, or the Grey Order.

Setting aside his new toy, an experimental item given to him the courtesy of the partnered work of Dr. Mahelona and Miss Iris Cadohagan: a Rune Calibrator. This device, modified from a handheld Integral Hands Smart Tool allows the user to imprint and dispel Enchantment Runes with a custom-built Unbinilium Battery. The Scholarly Doctor seeks to one day mass-produce this device and distribute them to the Armed Forces, specifically the Assault Engineers who will appreciate this tool greatly during their tour in Gliesia.

The main entrance of the Grand Lodge was doubly-guarded by a massive oak door enchanted with runes that deter block outsiders from entry. His UAV Recon had also observed the inhabitants of the Guild building sealing off every possible orifice of entrance in preparation for a siege.

These Adventurers are not going to be making this 'Asset Liquidation' mission of his easily.

It was quite an amusing read, researching this organization of how they operate and all of as required by his High Commission Masters. These 'Adventurers' as they call themselves, were collectively responsible for the most amounts of UFEAF-Laniyea Casualties during this conflict. Their light-weight gear, unconventional tactics along with their individually diverse experience dealing with multitudes of adversaries from their own Quests ranging from monsters, bandits, and other whatnot of this world made them the ideal Guerrilla Fighters, unlike their more conventionally minded Legionnaires that Coalition had no trouble of making short work of. With a centralized institution of networked interests to prop their edges and coordinate themselves independently of their Imperial Masters, the Grey Order impressively made the Federation setback several sabotages and men throughout Operation Haymaker. These Grey Order Guildsmen were perhaps one of the most challenging recusant groups Agent De Sardet is tasked to dismantle in his 14-year career in the Bureau. Not as the same level as Space Pirates, roguish Corporations or extremified Separatists back home as he is used to, but these Adventurers are still highly dangerous in their respective ways both new and classical in terms of comparable characteristics.

The site was quite the marvelous example of architecture in the world as the Intelligence Agent says so himself: It was a castle-shaped landmark that towered above the lesser of built Romano-Baroques like architectures. Only falling short of the Great Cathedral, whose height is bested by the Senate Dome, the height of the building being a sign of importance and prestige in Imperial Slaegia. Within the Lodge's halls were twin silo shaped buildings of contrasted width that spaced themselves equidistantly on the lot. According to Karliah, the first potbellied tower, located closest to the front gate, is the main hub of the Grey Order Institutions. Containing bureaucratic Offices to handle the processing of Quests and other day-to-day internal and external affairs for the guild, followed by rentable lodgings for exclusive to Guildsmen who seek a hospitable respite in between their travels in Haringpoint with a variety of Guild-only amenities, and finally a Plaza of privately owned Artisanal Workshops that treasures the finest-crafted arms and artifacts of this world's finest of adventurers for the right price and prestige. It is the publicly accessible wing of the complex conventionally speaking.

But the second tower of which the previous guards, one toweringly gaunt above its paunchier twin is the real prize. Accessible to the higher ranking of folks, both members and patrons, the second tower contains the personal offices of the leaders of the Grey Order alongside the real target of this attack, the Repository which safely keeps uncountable treasures. His targets were: The Relics of Magical Items that pathfinding individuals had excavated from old dungeons and ruins collected and stored for study and display; Followed by the Grey Order's Archives in which the Intelligence Agent wishes to gain access to magical lore books that the Guild was allowed to house a collection of independent of the vision of the College of Magi and finally the Roster of all Grey Order Adventurers reserved for future sanctions when needed be.

In terms of defenses, he can expect magical booby traps and enchantments meant to keep him away from the goodies alongside an indeterminate amount of highly skilled and highly cohesive defenders with home field advantage, any improvised means of home defense in regards to that said advantage, and of course… the option of stealth, not being much of an option time relevance wise.

At first glance, the Grey Order's Grand Lodge is a vault, a fortress within a fortress…

But for Agent De Sardet in his 14-year career as a Bureau of Intelligence Agent, all he needs is 50 good men and he can impregnate this bitch wide open.

"Ser De Saaar—Day?" Karliah proffered, fumbling her tongue upon the Bureau Agent's name. "Once we enter, please can spare the Staff and the younger Adventurers from the wrath of your men and yourself? Many of them are my friends and people who look up to me as a mentor." She requested, appealing to Gary's seemingly distinguish aura he radiated.

"Non, no guarantees I'm afraid that will happen fully mademoiselle. At best the Flash and Tasers… et maybe a rifle butt will stop some of them without actually hurting them too much. But I won't hesitate to kill them if they try me." He replied softly as he checked his ammunition cartridges. "You know how to cast a Paralysis Spell oui? Then use it! Hit them with that before I do something to them I will regret…" De Sardet reminded her.

Karliah sunk her head, her hood hiding her cracking eyes as she struggles to abide by what she is about to do. She had a choice in the matter to save those peoples she cared about. But nonetheless of her virtuous intentions, this is High Treason Karliah is about to enact onto her guild friends and collegiate. However, she knows that if those Adventurers would zealously spirit away the powerful artifacts the Guild holds which will only perpetuate this futile war for irreparable damages to come. She could almost vomit upon imagining their broken bodies before her, eyes locked with a final soul-piercing gaze upon her… their so-called Betrayer.

But she looked up above the city street the Otherworlders gathered upon in preparation for their siege of the Grand Lodge.

One of the most macabre sights the Imperials display in their city is how they enact justice upon criminals in contrast to their civilized architecture. Gibbets to hang criminals, both dead and alive of many degrees of penalized intensity. One such nearby hanging corpse stuck out, a body of a young girl, barely middle of the blossoming maidenhood that she grisly recognized. Her rotting corpse hung a sign detailing her tragic fate: Treason. The sight of her body chilled the Collegiate's bones, but revived her courage. She wished no harm on her former colleagues, and all though she knows they may not likely all listen to her reason, she will do her darndest to ensure they will not befallen the fate of cold oblivion unlike her friend Olayra. Grandmaster Owyne will pay immeasurably for the thousand Hells he had befallen to their country—their world!

"Stay behind me oui?" De Sardet cocked away from the safety of his magazine-fed, fast-cycling Semi-Automatic Shotgun, a personal choice of his whenever he needs to directly act upon his assignments. Its barrel baffled with a hybridized muzzle brake and suppressor.

He led his 50 good men, UFE Navy SEALS courtesy of Major Holyfield to huddle next to him by the grand gate as they made their insertion into the fortified building.

The SEALS were methodically ruthless in their approach, weaving through the barricades and defenses, not like a brutish flood, but of a dance-like presentation, a ceremony more like it, of their prowess. For any rudimentary of obstacles, the SEALS quickly humbled them to heel not with strength as Karliah foresupposed by their cumbrous ebony armor with an unexpectedly contrasted level of finesse. The first circle of defenses can be considered 'wooden' in both interpretations, mostly of intermediately armed Adventurers who more or less were furnished to be lookout and early warning than for any conventional confrontation. With the time it took for a drop of rainwater to drip down of the stone floor, the SEAL Teams eliminated the majority of the initial defenders. Those Guildsmen have survived that weren't immediately taken down non-lethally by Karliah's discretion hastily retreated just as the SEALs poured onto the courtyard as they hugged the walls of the first tower. Upon entry, that is when the full hammer of the fully cultivated Close Quarter's actions the SEALs brought down upon the Adventurers. Room after room, grid after grid, hall by hall, unless of course, they stumble upon an obstacle that requires her arcane expertise, the Special Forces grinded the defenders upon a wake of dead and breaking bodies. Despite the UFEAF's advanced tactics and weaponry, the Adventurous remained ever so tenacious. Like the ants that they were, they retreated deeper and deeper to the slowly eroding safety of their core as the SEALs had to halt their pushes upon several occasions just to resupply their gear from the Rear Echelons. This burned through valuable time, time that both brought ached equally on both sides. The more the Grey Order stubbornly pushed off the Federation, the more the SEALs amped their aggression back. In fact, it didn't take long for the Adventurer's to resort to equip themselves with the magically powerful artifacts they were meant to evacuate as they desperately stood their feet to hold for time so that their compatriots could escape. The noose had tightened amongst the Adventurer's and like cornered animals, to Karliah's horror, they resorted to 'volunteering' the young, the old and the meek. It was a massacre! But unlike those of helpless ableness, Ladui Silverdane can allay its destruction. She quietly sprinted forward, not too far away from her SEAL Team escort but quite far enough that they won't immediately see her without much of an effort of trying.

It didn't take too far off the beaten track before she encountered a holdout of the Guild defenders…

"Put the sword down Menel! I don't want to hurt you." the Collegiate pleaded to a young receptionist a woman she easily recognizes in her days visiting the Lodge. Menel pointed threateningly towards her an iron short sword for her own self-defense. "I know you! You are not a fighter."

But Menel shouted back. "H-how?! How could you Karliah? How could you turn against us?" She feinted a thrust of her sword to keep the 'corrupted' mage away from her and several defenseless Adventurer's and other Guild Staff whom the young receptionist girl is their only shield against the Destructive Force Karliah now represents. "We looked up to you! You were the paragon! The Adventuring Mage! How could you throw all of those you love away to the Demons? Money? Power? Slaves!?" she cried in distraught.

"I did not! I can explain everything. Please!" Karliah pleaded again.

Yet her words fell on deaf ears. "Die Traitor!" the conscripted receptionist swung her blade in a forlorn attempt to fight.

Not wanting to harm the desperate girl yet also knowing that the nearby SEALs will gun her down the moment they see her in the hallway holding that blade, the Mage heartened her courage as she conjured her Magicks for a Paralysis spell. It strokes perfectly on her mark as the Receptionist froze dead mid-swing, her eyes unable to shut as the Collegiate quietly push the sword away from ink blotted hands.

"Everything will be all right Menel… It will be over soon…" she hugged the receptionist girl just as the SEALs who heard the commotion rolled into the room to see Karliah with the frightened civilians.

Quietly, she reassured the Otherworlders that these people are no longer a threat to them and that if anything is to happen to them it is her responsibility to answer, but for now, they needed to get out of here. Turning back to her fellow countrymen, the Mage smiled softly as she ushered the shaken people and one awkwardly frozen living statue away to safety as the Siege continued to rage around them.

Like an Angel of Mercy, Karliah rinsed and repeated her process. Softly attempting to persuade them to stand down and if they don't she will go out of her way to disarm their weapons and strike them with a disabling spell before the SEALs and Rear Echelon Soldiers hastily escorted her internees away from the fighting. It didn't always work, however, sometimes the commotion she creates trying to stop the Adventurers from needless throwing their lives away for a misunderstood cause ended just as she did not wish to see: Their bullet-ridden bodies laying on the Lodge's illustrious floor. Yet even then such failures only fueled the Collegiate to push forward with her bardic camp campaign to advocate her countrymen to yield.

For Agent De Sardet in contrast to the Collegiate's means of pacification, he is as those Adventurers fortunate enough to escape his maws alive, describe of him as wild dog starved off for days looking for blood to sink his teeth in. If the SEAL were likened to a horde of locust, the beat of their boots thundering along the halls as they that sweeps through and devours all in their path before halting to breed their numbers anew. The Intelligence Agent would be likened to an implacable or perhaps better to say, rapacious Ram of bullish hell-bent. When he is not coldly gunning down the Adventurer's who had resisted, he marauded their corpses and rooms in search of all things valuable not bolted down… yet sometimes he would try to take those that were bolted down too. He brought hell upon their doors, oftentimes laying his hands maliciously upon the morale-broken Adventurous as hostages to leverage for the continued capitulation of the rest. One time he would maim the one half of a lover's pair of Adventurous in order to solicit the still defiant half to yield. Another time, he was caught in surprise by a huge brute of a beastman but managed to overpower him with his a timely Judo throw, tossing the poor sod off of a 10-storied window to his fatal descent. Many despaired at this unstoppable force who seemed to shake away everything they throw at him.

"By the Gods! This cannot be happe---" an Adventurer despaired before his chest was blasted open by De Sardet's flechette-throwing Shotgun.

Raising the gun upwards to the ceiling, the Bureau Agent smirked as he sees his eyes before him his Grand Prize: the Grand Lodge's Repository. He knows he had arrived upon the description of a silver barred door inscribed with protective runes to prevent entry.

"Gewis? Gewis! Is all is quiet? Is it over?" a voice emerged from behind the magically sealed barrier of the Repository.

Playfully he knocked back on the door "It looks like the cats have become the mouse." The Bureau Agent rearmed his Rune Calibrator Gadget once again as he carefully raised his hands over towards the Magic Runes harmonically webbed around the door to protect it from harm. Carefully, with a few mishaps and taunts, he quietly disabled the Runes one by one.

"You can still come out and play you know? Or surrender…" Gart taunted them. "You are running out of time! Let me just have those nice relics you keep inside that fancy bank you have behind this door and I will let you go!"

There was no response from the voice behind the vault door.

"I know about those tunnels too by the way." He added. "You are running out of space to run to!" the Agent bluffed, leveraging his knowledge of the secret passageway in the Repository only known by the high-ranking of the Guild's Leaders in case they needed to evacuate the Relics in an event like this. In reality however, the UFEAF soldiers tasked with clearing the Kobold's Hollow aren't that far in to intercept just yet in this time of day. Yet this he hoped, should force remaining Adventurers to attempt a breakout where he could corner the last remnants of the Guild.

"Then I as my sworn duty as the Venture-Captain, you Demons will not dare defile these sacred relics with your corrupt hands!" the voice shouted. "Destroy the artifacts!"

De Sardet's eyes widened as his heart skipped a beat. He could not allow this to come to pass not when he is so close.

"Get Charges now!" he ordered the Seals. They rather destroy the Repository's treasures rather than let them get his hands on them. A Scorch Earth Tactic. "Hurry!"

High-explosive Semtex was immediately set upon the now unprotected vault door as De Sardet cleared for a breach, one final thrust to slay the beast and claim its treasure. The resulting explosion tore through the gate and any unfortunate soul about 7 feet or so less away from the radius as the SEALs swarmed into the marble chamber of the Repository of the Adventurer's Guild. A few bursts of their guns swiftly eliminated those survivors as the smoke in from the wake of the explosion came to see.

He kneeled down, grabbing whatever unburnt documents he could whilst shoeing away the blood-stained but ultimately intact magical artifacts, the Bureau Agent wiped the sweat off of his brow. SEALs meanwhile did the same rescuing whatever paraphernalia as they could before whatever enchantments the Enemy Mages had attempted to embed upon the artifacts. Karliah assisted in canceling out whatever transmutative Alteration spells that would have otherwise adulterate the artifacts into useless junk.

"Spearhead, Spearhead, this is Deimos… I hit the jackpot." De Sardet radioed.

"Confirmed Deimos." Holyfield answered. "Bag'up everything you find, then exfiltrate."

A cadre of assisting Rear Echelon Soldiers immediately arrived upon the Agent's call. They carry wide-boxed chests filled inside with smaller containers and even a few specialized Ziploc bags for good measure. They were typically reserved for the confiscation and preserved containment of contaminable evidence for those under the employ of the Ministry of Interior's coverage umbrella. In a flip of a mental switch, the mode of De Sardet's mood had switched from a bloodthirsty slaughterer back to his serene, no-nonsense temperament as he sheathed his Shotgun for a pair of surgical gloves. Grabbing one of the Evidence Chests and began to collect all the various objects in the chamber. Neatly, he stacked whatever important-looking document he could obtain together alongside the books neatly in pre-labeled cases and the weaponry and armor on others. His brutalized hands now giving great care to these items with an almost loving affection of respect, marveling on the magical artifacts with lust-wondered eyes that at one point, while holding a particularly master-crafted Runic Sword, his finger pricked itself lightly upon the blade's edge.

"This is quite the work I …cut… myself for… ouch…" De Sardet licked the drop of blood off of his finger.

"So many…" Karliah muttered as she was left speechless of the grisly scene.

There was much death that permeated the Grand Lodge's halls as this morbid assault came to a close. For every adventurer, she saw only 2 of 5 of them yielded. Most of whom were either of lower rank of lesser resolve compared to their more venerable-ranked of colleagues then there was the Staff who were no fighters, to begin with. Still, there was still some legacy of the Guild still salvageable albeit now in the Federation's Hands. Karliah hoped that this devastating capitulation would finally end the War with the Empire once and for all.

"Deimos, this is Spearhead. Miss Karliah Silverdane is needed as per request by Stryder Lead." Colonel Polonsky radioed from De Sardet's chest. "The Sappers have cleared out the Hollow and Captain Rose's Team is readying to move in on the College. Over."

"Affirmative Shield-Father." De Sardet acknowledged. "It looks like you are needed elsewhere, mademoiselle. Au revoir for now Miss Silverdane." He waved goodbye as the Collegiate made her leave under an escort of two SEALs.