The end of the hallway was in sight. Emil looked around, and fortunately, there did not seem to be any guards. The group was about to burst through when a bright light erupted from the doors. A group of five drew long shadows on their arrival down the hallway. Emil and his friends stopped in their tracks and held their breaths. Dark capes fluttered over neat turquoise suits by the gust that slipped inside with them, with golden motifs of feathers and hands glistening on their capes. The one standing closest to the group pointed his finger at them with a stern stare under the shade of his wide-brimmed hat and the long threads hanging down to his shoulders.

"You there. Who are you?" The man asked.

Emil froze. He was about to slip his name without thinking.

"We need to get out of here!" He played along to the chaos. "It's here! I heard some noise from there!" He pointed back the way they came.

The man kept his gaze fixed on the group. "That did not answer my question."

"We...We are here to see sir Norman. Albion, we came from Albion."

The man's curly brows flicked. "I have not heard of such a delegation."

Emil slowly reached around his waist under his clothes. He unbuckled a leather pouch strapped to his belt. Inside was a deck of cards, but Emil was too hesitant with his fingers to draw one.

One of the five stepped to whisper with a stammer from behind their featureless, disc-shaped mask. "M-Maybe we should focus on the primary objective. R-right, Adler?"

"Yeah, we can take these guys out later," A hooded one said with arms relaxing behind their head.

"Let us just kill them now," Another mumbled under her mask as she was about to take off her white, fuzzy gloves. The glare of her eyes was utterly unfitting of a golden-lined masquerade mask stretching over her mouth.

"How is it, Adler?" The disc-masked one asked.

The others watched in anticipation, with the fifth member staying back in the silence of their holed iron globe covering his whole head. Emil felt the danger pierce his skin and bones. He slowly slid off a card halfway, yet his fingers shook too much to pull it out. He felt as if his head would drop if he met their hostility.

"Rufous is right. We have no time for distractions." Adler took his eyes off Emil. "We still need to rendezvous with Harrier. Let us continue."

"Yes," The others nodded.

Emil and others could only gasp as the hooded group passed them in a flash.

"What was that?" Hortensia asked in a cold sweat.

"I...I don't know," Emil said.

"I heard about them," Martin tried to calm his heart. "We are in serious trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"I learned about them through Catori. The last thing you would want to see was those suits and masks. They're the elite agents of MIB, Talon. If they set their eyes on you, you're good as dead."

"What are guys like that doing here?" Emil asked. "Was the other intruder really that dangerous?"

Martin shook his head. "It doesn't matter who it is. Not since he's also here."

"What are you saying?" Aston turned to him. "What happened to your pride, Martin?"

"Don't give me that crap, you rattlehead!" Martin gripped his collar with tears in his eyes. He took one hand off to conjure his book and shook it right before his eyes. "I read his past with Living Memoir. I could barely contain myself when I heard that name. Adler, he's a real monster, even among Talon. I'm glad that I can't read those pages anymore. Hate is too tame of a word to describe those feelings. The sheer animosity seared into his flesh against that name burned me by just reading about it."

"That's not your call," Hortensia reminded with a sour face. "Emil, what are we going to do?"

Emil fixed his glasses with a rough cough. "If what you said is true, Martin, then we are indeed in great danger."

"Exactly, that's why we should get out now!"

"But so is Orel."

Martin held his tongue.

Hortensia raised her voice. "I'll say it again. I don't care what you're looking for. I just want everyone to make it out safely." She looked back at Martin. "That counts everyone. I don't want to see anyone getting hurt by those mage freaks."

Aston stepped up. "While acquiring the artifact would be remarkable, I too, care more for my skin than some trinket."

"Well," Emil smiled awkwardly. "We first need to warn Orel. Let's see how this thing goes along after that."

"We could call him, but I don't think that's a good idea with those agents being involved. The signal can't be that good anyway with the storm above us," Hortensia said.

"We need to find him," Emil looked back. "He can't be too far."

Orel was not about to wait for them; he was running full pace, with the teacher's office in sight. With his feet slipping along the floor, he stopped at the door and gripped the doorknob. The group waited, yet Orel stood still. Ándras walked closer and saw his hand shake the knob like a salt shaker.

"What's with the holdup?" He asked.

Orel took a breath and steadied his hand. "Nothing. Let's go."

Yet, the door opened by itself, or rather, by someone. A tall woman strapped in a black skin-tight suit looked down at him.

"What is it?" Anita Terminus asked. "Students are not allowed here."

"I'm...We're here to see Norman."

Anita's pale face was rightfully confused. "Norman? What could you have to ask him? Whatever it is, you can't just waltz in here. What is your name and class?"

"Um..." Orel stepped back.

Her devious eyes went to Diarmuid. "And who are you?"

Diarmuid coughed. "We are from Albion. We have private matters to discuss with sir Norman."

"Then what are you doing here?" Anita raised her brow.

"Just ask him." Orel struggled to get his word in.

Anita glanced at the honest expression and sighed. "I don't have time for this."

"Is something wrong?" A larger man sporting a lofty mustache walked over.

"Oh, Granger. It's just these people claim to be from Albion and looking for Norman."

"That does sound odd," Hugo thought.

"Could you mind settling this on your own? I got a call and need to go. Call security if something comes up." Anita walked past them.

Hugo did not recognize Diarmuid or Ándras nor their outfits, but something about Orel captivated him.

"You there, sonny," He pointed his round nose.

"Yes?" Orel asked.

"While these men here could be officials not wearing any uniform, you seem a bit too young for an official."

Cold sweat ran down Orel's face.

"I...I'm Norman's-"

"Orel!" Diarmuid grabbed him before he could finish.

"Oh my. It strongly seems that you have come here under false pretenses. Whatever it may be, I should not allow you to continue any further."

Diarmuid and Ándras exchanged a glance and clenched their hands. Orel could feel the tension rising like a storm.

"No, please." Orel stepped between them.

"State your business now!" Hugo ordered with his hands ready to cast.

"I...We're friends!" Orel confessed with sincerity.

"Friends?" Hugo's lip wavered, shaking his mustache like the waist of a belly dancer. "Preposterous! No friend would go to such lengths. He has not mentioned a thing about any new friends."

"...We want to ask him something."

"And what would that be?"

"Why he left, and if he's ever going to come back."

Hugo's face went around with confusion. His hands slowly lowered back to resting on his belly.

"Is that true, boy?" He asked.

Orel nodded.

"Then you must be-"

"What's the ruckus around here?" A familiar voice asked, cranky as always. "Can't a man drink a coffee in peace?"

Barely looking over Hugo's shoulder, a face full of healed scars tried to catch a glimpse of what was happening.

"Norman?" Orel asked out.

Hugo was shoved out of the way, though with great effort. The man almost lost the grip of his mug due to the surprise.

"Orel? Is that you?" Norman asked softly.

"I'm here too," Ándras raised his hand.

"W...What are you doing here?"

"We want answers," Orel said.

Norman's teeth grit together. "Well, I suppose I owe you that." His eyes moved to Hugo. "Um, they are my-"

"Friends. I know," Hugo smiled. "I merely tested them. Come on, get in before anyone notices you. There are no other teachers present."

The meeting around the coffee table was awkward, to say the least. Norman fiddled with his cup with his fidgety hands as he told the gist of what happened.

"But seriously, did break in here just to see me?" He asked.

"They wouldn't let us in any other way," Ándras shrugged.

"Well, you might be right on that."

"And you wouldn't answer your phone."

"...And that." Norman let out a nervous laugh.

Orel laughed along, but couldn't get himself to ask the most important question.

"So, what are you going to do?" Ándras blurted it out.

Norman turned his face back to the coffee swirling around in his cup. The reflection of his fresh-shaven face, the somber green eyes, and his healed yet still visible burn marks made his heart ache as if rubbed with ice. It had been feeling empty for a long time now, longing for the mysteries waiting behind the horizon. Yet, there still existed a cage around his heart, a shadowy hand clenching it tight in its cold grasp. It kept him hostage, or rather, Norman knew, that it would not crush his heart, but anyone else was fair game.

"I...It's not simple." Norman shook his head. "I got a lot of responsibilities I need to take care of."

"Since when have you been a responsible adult?" Ándras asked.

"You don't understand. It's complicated."

"Like how? Are you afraid that girl is going to miss you?"

Norman rubbed his hand across his face. "That's. Not. The. Point."

"Then what is?"

"We can't know unless you tell us." Orel reminded.

"...I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't." Norman whimpered.

"Because of what? What are you so scared of?" Ándras asked.

"...If I step out of the line, you will get hurt."

Orel looked at Norman's defeated face. "Haven't we already gotten hurt? You, me, and Ándras. Even Diarmuid."

Norman hastily glanced around. "It wouldn't just be you. They won't spare anyone."

Hugo coughed and took a small step away as if not listening to the conversation.

"Who's they?" Orel asked.

Norman stayed quiet.

"Then we just need to kick their asses," Ándras slammed his fist into his hand.

For how much he tried to resist it, a laugh escaped Norman's lips. Before it could spark any joy, his face sunk into the anxiety-ridden mess it was before.

"Please don't. I don't want you to die because of me. Please, just forget about me. Go and have a fun life full of adventures. You don't need me for that. No, you can't do that with me."

Orel took a moment to think. "You're right."

Norman's heart sank. It had never been this cold. It prickled it like a thousand needles and crushed under the pressure.

"I don't need you. I want you."

There it was again. The flickering young flame tickled the frozen heart, melting the ice away.

"Don't be foolish. You don't need to go that far for me," Norman tried to brush it off. "You can find a way better mage to teach you."

"Maybe, but they couldn't replace you."

Anger built inside Norman until he smashed his hands against the coffee table. "Are you dumb or something? Why would you risk everything for this lousy, lying, good-for-nothing mage?! I used you to figure out my theories! I lied about myself and never told you anything! There's nothing good about me! I don't even have a spell to call my own! I stole it! From my sister, nonetheless!" He took a few breaths to calm down. "Can't you see now? You best ditch this old fool before you get in any more trouble."

"You're the one who doesn't understand," Ándras shook his head.

"Huh?"

"We came all the way here for you. Don't you think that we're already fine with the danger?"

"You just don't know about what you're up against."

"Of course, we don't!" Ándras raised his voice. "But do you think we care?"

"Well, you should," Norman turned to Orel. "Your family will be in danger, Orel. Why would you take that risk?"

Orel walked over to Norman with a deadpan face and slapped him.

"That was for mom. She wanted me to deliver it for her. She said it was rude to leave without a goodbye." Orel said and walked back to his seat. "They let me go because they wanted to hear back from you too. We're all in this together."

"You're all crazy," Norman shook his head. "You can't even begin to think who you're messing with."

"You know what I would say to those people?"

"...What?"

"Bring it on."

A shadow in the corner of the room grew. Norman jumped out of his seat, face pale with horror.

"That was a threat, was it not?" The shadow asked with a sinister smile creeping up its gleaming eyes.

"No, they didn't mean it!" Norman shook his hands, his legs barely keeping him up.

"What is that?" Diarmuid asked.

"Nyx." Norman gritted his teeth together.

"Dear god," Hugo fell to his knees.

Orel stood up. "You're the one keeping Norman here?"

Nyx laughed with an echo. "And you are one of those supposed friends of his?"

"The name is Orel. Orel Eislandr."

"Well, Orel Eislandr, I ask you this: Are you prepared to die?"

"No," Orel said with his head held high. "That's not what I'm here for."

Nyx's hands loomed over Norman. "And for you, Master Norman, I have something else to say. "His toothy grin moved next to his ear. "Your debt is due."

Catori dragged himself along the walls of the hallway. His long ears picked up something from further down behind a corner. He pulled his body against the wall and peeked. It was Adler with his arm around Ocham's neck. Blood dripped to the ground as he lifted him with a choke grip. Thomas watched from the side, catching his breath.

"Target captured," Adler said.

"Hey, I was going to catch him!" Thomas stomped his feet.

"Incidentally, Mr. Bostic, have you seen any other suspicious behavior?"

"Um, no, I suppose not." Thomas was sufficiently distracted.

"Then, continue patrolling the premises. Inform us if you find any more suspicious persons."

"You're not the boss of me!"

"It is simply a matter of student and Paradis citizen safety."

"Fine, but don't think you MIB people can meddle with everything." Thomas walked off with leaping and stomping steps.

Adler's attention went back to Ocham "It was a surprise to see you again, Ocham," He said with a frown. "How you have fallen. Well, there was never any other option for an unwanted child such as yourself."

"Cooper..." Ocham coughed. "Still working as a government dog, I see. Tell me, does your hand still hurt?"

Adler slammed him to the wall. "Do not call me by that name!"

"So, what is taking you so long? Get it over with," Ocham had a hard time breathing.

"We were given orders to take you alive."

"For what? Interrogation?"

"I am the one asking the questions." Adler tightened his grip. "Was there anyone with you?"

"I work alone."

Adler punched him to the side. "It is unlikely you could infiltrate alone. We will find them, with or without you."

"Then go get them. I will wait for that day."

Rufous, the blank-masked shuffled closer. "What do we do now, Adler?"

Adler lowered Ocham to the ground, though not without punching him in the gut.

"Harrier is late. You and Shikra will escort the target back to base. Are you able to do that?"

"O- Of course." Rufous rubbed his hands.

"There will be no problems," Shikra bowed with a smile under her mask.

"We will wait here for Harrier with Kestrel and Griffon and commence the investigation," Adler added.

"Sure," Kestrel tipped his hood.

"As you command." Griffon nodded.

Catori heard none of the words. The sight of those turquoise suits made him see red. His heart raced, giving new blood to his limbs. His back fur spiked and a row of growling teeth revealed underneath his lips. clenching his hand, he scratched long marks on the stone walls. He could not wait any longer. With his sword in the other hand, he was ready to turn the corner and face the source of his rage. Yet, he knew it would be quite literally suicidal. Even with all his rage, he would not lose his sanity. Still, his blood lust seeped down the hallway, something that Adler, though faintly, picked up.

"Who is there? Step up." He ordered.

Before Catori could realize it, his legs moved on their own. He turned the corner, right in front of the three Talon agents. He could only grit his teeth and growl.

"Talon!" He yelled.

"So there was someone else here." Adler turned to face him. "Who are you?"

Catori felt a jolt in his body, but his lips resisted the urge to move.

"Hmph. I should have known that you would be resistant to my magic," Adler's eyes watched him carefully. "But you do not seem to have much yourself. How could a beastman like yourself have slipped here unnoticed?"

"I could not have guessed they would send Talon either.

"What should we do, Adler?" Griffon asked.

"I can handle this."

The name reached Catori's ears and made them turn red.

"Adler?" He asked back. "You are Adler?"

"Seems like you are mistaken, beastman. Adler is not my true name. It is a title passed down to me. Whatever grudge you seem to have, I cannot tell who it concerns."

"I don't care which Adler you are. Scum is scum. You and the whole MIB deserve the same hell you created for us."

"Empty words of a crying wolf. You scumm deserve nothing less.”

Catori sniffed the air. "Your smell, it’s awful. All those modifications must put a great strain on your body. How many mystic mutations you have attached to yourself? What is even left of yourself? All those smells, down to your tongue.”

“Is that all you had to say, you filthy mutt?”

“What an awful thing to say for someone with mixed blood.”

Adler's fists tightened.

"Adler?" Kestler noticed how he had fallen quiet.

In a blink of an eye, Adler was gone. Catori saw the strike coming and tried to block it, yet the fist crushed his hand. The wrist dangled loose, with bones sticking out from the fur. The sensation of the strike was odd. It was as if he was slugged with a sledgehammer. Though his flesh was magic resistant, his body would take time to heal such an injury.

"I use everything I have of my tarnished body to strive for a better world for humanity, and I will eliminate everything that threatens that reality."" Adler readied his next strike. "Make peace with whatever you have in your heart, for in the name of justice, you will be executed on this spot."