Red Crown

Amidst the tension-laden atmosphere, the room crackled with an invisible charge as Phelan and Friedan locked gazes. The intensity between them could rival the birth of a thunderstorm, an impending clash of wills that sent shivers down my spine. Phelan was the first to break the standoff, his piercing glare turning into a withering look that he directed towards me before he exited the room. But Friedan, the ever-intense and intimidating presence, refused to let Phelan's exit be the end of their encounter.

Friedan's gaze remained locked on the door through which Phelan had departed, an unrelenting fire smoldering in his eyes. It was as though he was unwilling to let Phelan slip away so easily, a determination that bordered on the unsettling. Slowly, he turned his attention back to me, his formidable stare drilling into my very soul.

I felt the weight of his scrutiny, the pressure of his unwavering assessment. Friedan's gaze had the power to unravel even the most well-guarded secrets, to expose vulnerabilities that I was desperate to keep hidden. I knew Astrid – his real name – better than anyone, and his scrutiny was as much a part of his protective nature as it was a testament to his uncanny ability to see through facades.

Despite my internal turmoil, I kept my gaze steady, refusing to back down in this silent duel of determination. I knew what he was thinking, his thoughts as transparent as if they were spoken aloud. He believed there was more to the story, that my interaction with Phelan went beyond what I was willing to admit.

Without a word, Friedan shifted his stance, his formidable presence moving closer to me, making the room feel smaller, more suffocating. He set down a basket of assorted fruits on the nearby table, the wrapping still intact, a juxtaposition to his unraveling suspicion. He leaned against the window frame, his arms crossed, his gaze a torrent of interrogation that I couldn't escape.

And then, like a thunderbolt crashing through the room, his voice sliced through the air, laden with accusation. "The guy you dated?"

"We never dated!" The words were out before I could filter them, my tone carrying a touch of exasperation. It was true – Phelan and I had never officially dated, despite the rumors that had circulated. But this declaration held more weight than a simple denial; it was a defense mechanism, a means of deflecting from the truth that was too complex to express.

Friedan's eyes bore into me, unyielding, as if he could sense the hesitation beneath my words. He seemed relentless, unswayed by my initial response, determined to unravel the web of my interactions with Phelan. I was navigating a minefield, and every word, every glance, could set off an explosion of truth that I wasn't ready to face.

"Schoolmate ko si Phelan Vargas. His family owns this hospital." I spoke the words with a practiced calmness, my eyes avoiding his penetrating gaze as I scrambled to assemble a convincing explanation. It was partially true – Phelan's family did own this hospital, and we had been schoolmates. But my heart raced, knowing that this half-truth was a fragile shield against Friedan's scrutiny.

Friedan's expression remained unreadable, his arms still crossed, his eyes locked on my face. He seemed to dissect every word, every syllable, searching for the truth beyond the façade. There was a tension in the room, an unspoken challenge that hung heavy in the air. He was pushing, and I was resisting, and the space between us was a battleground of intent.

"The guy you dated?" Friedan's voice remained steady, unyielding, his eyes seemingly dissecting me with every syllable. The question was loaded, a trap laid for me to stumble into, a pitfall that could expose the deeper currents beneath my words.

"We never dated!" My voice was firmer this time, a touch of frustration edging into my tone. But it was a defense, a mask that I clung to as the pressure mounted. I couldn't let Friedan see the truth – the complex tangle of emotions that Phelan stirred within me, the conflict that had arisen from our interactions.

Friedan's lips curved into a knowing smirk, an expression that set my nerves on edge. He moved, his steps purposeful as he approached the cabinet drawer. A sense of mischief danced in his eyes, a reminder that beneath the intense exterior, he was still Astrid – my guardian and foster brother, with a penchant for prying into matters that were better left untouched.

As Friedan's back was turned, a sense of recklessness overtook me. I seized the opportunity, making faces and sticking my tongue out in a playful act of rebellion, a silent retaliation for his unrelenting scrutiny. But before I could fully indulge in my childish rebellion, Friedan's movements caught me off guard. He turned, faster than I expected, a wry smile playing on his lips as he caught me in the act.

Caught in the midst of my playful antics, embarrassment flooded my cheeks, my protestations half-hearted as I tried to save face. Friedan's expression remained unreadable, his eyes boring into mine with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, a glimpse of the person he was beneath the formidable exterior.

"What are you doing?" His voice held a mix of bemusement and curiosity, his eyebrows raised in mock innocence. But there was something in his gaze that belied his amusement, a sense that he saw through my facade, that he was aware of the insecurities that I tried to hide.

"I'm... Ahh, w-wala. Sumasayaw ako!" The words tumbled out, a hasty attempt to cover up my embarrassment. I willed my cheeks to stop burning, my heart still racing from being caught in the act. But the corners of Friedan's lips twitched, a silent acknowledgment of my antics.

He moved closer, his imposing presence sending a ripple of nerves down my spine. I fought to maintain my composure, even as his scrutiny intensified. And then, with a surprising twist, he revealed what he had been hiding behind his back – an arm cuff, adorned with a crown-shaped ruby, an unmistakable urion crown.

The sight hit me like a tidal wave, a rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, a mixture of shock and joy that I couldn't contain. The crown, the very symbol of my aspirations and dreams, lay before me, a testament to Friedan's understanding of my desires and his willingness to surprise me.

The silence between us was charged, a resonance of unspoken emotions that echoed through the room. Friedan's smirk seemed to soften, replaced by a genuine sense of satisfaction. My throat felt tight, my words caught in the rush of feelings that swelled within me.

"Finally..." I whispered, my voice tinged with awe and gratitude. The ruby crown, a culmination of my efforts and dreams, was a testament to Friedan's role in my life – as a guardian, a confidant, and a source of unwavering support.

Friedan's expression shifted, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that reached beyond words. In that moment, as the weight of his scrutiny transformed into a moment of connection, I realized that beneath his inexplicable exterior, he was my protector, my ally, and someone who understood me in ways that I couldn't articulate.

The tension of the room had shifted, the unspoken challenge evolving into an unspoken bond. As Friedan's gaze remained fixed on mine, I felt a surge of determination, a resolve to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The ruby crown was a symbol of my aspirations, a reminder that I was on a path to redefine my destiny – and with Friedan by my side, I knew I could face anything that the future held.

"Finally, agent Kiera slash Lucy. This is it!" Friedan's lips parted, revealing a smile that illuminated his face with a rare genuine warmth. I could hardly believe my eyes – the usually stoic and puzzling Astrid was showing a side of him I seldom saw. He radiated pride, a sentiment I had rarely associated with him before.

"B-but I thought I failed. B-because I wasn't crowned during the actual event?" Doubt tinged my voice as I voiced my confusion, my eyes flickering between the urion crown adorning my arm and Friedan's face.

His hand extended towards mine, delicately placing the small crown on my arm. I felt the cold bite of the ruby against my skin, a tangible reminder that I had become a fully crowned urion. "You were crowned while asleep. Vega hit your back, which made you lose consciousness. She used a Maricopa harvest ant to enhance the impact. Everyone in the Legion knows how venomous those ants are, so Vega had a valid reason to hit you. But whatever her true intention was, she managed to preempt what was supposed to happen to you. She made sure the circumstances aligned with what should happen to you. It could have been worse."

Friedan's gaze drifted towards the window, his expression pensive. "That's why the rest of the pillars suggested to bring you here even though it wasn't necessary. They thought the venom might kill you. No one on LOU possesses the antidote for that venom. So Vega was probably up to something. She excels at playing mysteriously."

He continued, his words carrying a weight of caution. "That's why anyone can be an enemy, Kiera. You shouldn't trust their words or even their actions."

Though I remained skeptical of Vega's intentions, I understood Friedan's underlying message. He had a knack for reading between the lines and seeing through veils of deception. While I still questioned Vega's motives, I began to grasp the notion that Friedan's instincts were rarely misguided.

"What about Rumina and Kelvin?" I inquired, eager for more information about the others who had been crowned alongside me.

"Rumina was crowned with the Crystal crown, and Kelvin received the Topaz. You're the 80th, Kelvin's the 81st, and Rumina is the 82nd. The three of you will form the 11th Gem Squad," Friedan explained as he deftly peeled an apple using a vintage Swiss knife, then settled on the edge of the bed where I lay.

The 11th Gem Squad? As far as I knew, there were only ten existing squads in LOU. Each squad consisted of ten members, typically representing different layers or ranks within the organization. The squads were organized to handle various missions, with higher-ranking urions typically performing solo missions and enlisting the help of squad members when needed for more complex tasks. It was common for newer urions like us to be assigned less challenging missions.

"The organization expects a lot from you," Friedan said with a serious tone as he took a bite of the freshly peeled apple.

"Well, that's putting some pressure on us. When is our first mission scheduled?"

Friedan rose from his seat and walked toward the window, gazing out as if lost in thought. He sighed before speaking, "August 23, two weeks from now."

I was taken aback, the revelation hitting me like a freight train. The date he mentioned was my birthday. Had he forgotten? Was he not aware that August 23 was my birthday, and I had been anticipating celebrating my debut? He had promised to be my escort on that day. We might have been kids when we discussed it, but that promise had held a special place in my heart. Had he not advocated for a change in the mission schedule with LOU? How could he be so insensitive?

"Seriously?" My voice wavered, disbelief lacing every word.

Friedan only offered a brief glance in my direction, his gaze focused on the world outside the window. "Yes, Kiera. LOU wouldn't schedule your mission on that date without reason. You have your first target. It's encrypted within the ruby crown."

I stuttered, struggling to find the right words. "I, I mean..." My voice trailed off, lost in a mix of emotions. How could I explain my disappointment without revealing the truth? How could I convey that August 23 held immense significance for me – not just as a birthday, but as a day that carried a promise of togetherness and celebration? "Is the date fixed then?"

"It is. This will be your first mission as Agent Lucy, so don't mess up," he replied briskly before placing the peeled apple on a small plate. Without another word, he turned and headed for the door.

He was gone, leaving me alone with my emotions – hurt, confusion, and the imminent threat of tears welling up in my eyes.

I felt a weight on my chest, a heaviness that threatened to engulf me. Tears gathered in my eyes, a torrent of emotions ready to spill over at any moment. Just when I thought Friedan had given me a heartfelt surprise, he had inadvertently wounded me with another – a reminder of his apparent insensitivity to the significance of August 23.

My chest tightened, and I could feel the emotional storm brewing within me. My heart ached, and I was on the brink of crying when the door swung open. A figure entered, obscured by a thick fabric covering their face.

The last surprise from Friedan was hurtful, and now there was another – the baffled appearance of the 11th. The figure known as Zilla.

"Zilla?" I called out in astonishment.

The figure nodded in response. He stood there, his face hidden by the fabric, and I couldn't help but wonder what brought him here. His presence was undoubtedly intentional and carried a weighty purpose, one that extended beyond mere chance.