Prelude to Malice

The aftermath of the Syndicate's downfall lingered in the air, thick with the residual tension of a mission completed but unfinished.

Val stood amidst the battlefield's wreckage, masked and motionless, his form blending into the night. Military operatives maneuvered around him and his team, clearing debris, securing intel, and marking locations for future sweeps.

A sudden, sharp pain burned through Val's left eye. It was bearable but constant, a dull throb that nagged at the edge of his concentration.

"Deleo," he called inwardly, the command urgent. "What's going on with my eye?"

Deleo's voice, smooth and firm, resonated within him. "It's an adjustment, Val. You're attuning to the third seal, and with it, your senses are evolving. This pain… it's not just physical. The seal has opened new depths within you."

Val's fingers brushed the edge of his mask, pressing lightly as if to ease the intensity. "And this is permanent?"

"Think of it as the veil lifting," Deleo replied, his tone carrying a cautionary weight. "Every enemy, every dark intention, will feel nearer to you, even if they're out of reach. The Void amplifies these perceptions. It's the price of power, Val."

Val straightened, letting his hand fall back to his side as the pain settled into a simmer. The team waited a short distance away, their black cloaks blending with the shadows. Bo, Riggs, and Fon stood with a patience that belied the toll the battle had taken on them, their expressions unreadable beneath their masks, yet their postures were firm and ready.

A nearby soldier approached, his expression a mixture of awe and caution. He halted a few feet away from Val, swallowing as he glanced between the masked team members. "Umbra, the cleanup's almost done. We've got a transport chopper on standby. If you and your squad are ready, we can—"

Val raised a gloved hand, silencing him with a slight tilt of his head. "Thank you, but I have my own means of transport."

The soldier hesitated, eyes flicking uncertainly to the team. "But… sir, protocol states—"

A calm resolve hardened Val's tone. "We won't be needing it. We'll regroup on our own terms."

The soldier opened his mouth as if to protest but froze as a smooth, thick black smoke began to drift up around Val and his team. His eyes widened, and he stumbled back, hands raised instinctively. "What… what the hell?"

The smoke coiled and thickened around them, enclosing Val and his team in an impenetrable shroud. It was unlike any shadow the soldier had seen—intense yet eerily smooth, swirling as if with a will of its own. And just as suddenly as it appeared, the smoke dissipated, leaving only empty space where they had been moments before.

The command room at HQ was bathed in a tense silence, broken only by the low hum of machinery and the occasional murmur of military officials discussing the Syndicate's fall. When Val and his team materialized in the center of the room, gasps rippled through the assembled higher-ups, their faces a mix of awe and unease.

The black smoke dissipated, leaving the four figures standing, cloaked in the remnants of the battlefield. Dust, ash, and faint bloodstains clung to their cloaks, darkened and dried but discernible if one looked closely. Their silent, masked forms radiated an eerie calm, drawing the attention of every person in the room.

A few of the allied representatives whispered to one another, unsettled by the method of their arrival. One official, eyes wide with awe, muttered, "That's… more than expected from an ARM user."

Dr. Lewis observed the reaction without a hint of surprise, but a faint gleam of approval crossed his eyes as he looked at Val. Beside him, General Luis gave the team a sharp nod, his expression one of respect edged with an unspoken pride.

Val scanned the room, meeting the gazes of those who dared to look directly at him. The tension in the room thickened, the power radiating from the team's presence unmistakable. Bo, Riggs, and Fon stood at attention, unmoving as the leaders absorbed the intensity of the silent figures before them.

General Luis cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Operation completed. Serpentine Syndicate is dismantled, and order has been restored. You've succeeded where many have failed, and Clareo's borders… are secure once more." His gaze rested on Val. "Umbra, your team's efficiency exceeded expectations. The higher-ups are taking notice."

A sudden, throbbing pain flared in Val's left eye again, more intense than before. He gritted his teeth, a hand subtly moving to press against the side of his face. Dr. Lewis's gaze narrowed, sensing Val's discomfort.

"Umbra, any injuries sustained on-site?" Dr. Lewis's voice was even, his eyes sharp with concern as they lingered on Val's hand.

Val dropped his hand, his voice steady despite the pain. "Just… an aftereffect of the power surge. It'll pass."

But his mind raced as he spoke. "Deleo, what is this? It's getting stronger."

Deleo's response was calm, a steady anchor amid the pain. "Your senses are in flux, Val. You're feeling something—something distant yet familiar. With the third seal open, malice and threats will feel nearer to you, even when they're not. It's part of the evolution."

"So, this isn't just pain?" Val thought back, his pulse steady, though a sense of unease prickled his skin.

"No," Deleo replied, his voice a shade graver. "It's an early warning—a foreshadowing. The malice you sense lingers even without an enemy near. You'll feel their presence, their intentions. This sensation isn't random; it's tied to what's coming."

General Luis's voice broke through Val's thoughts, his tone brisk as he addressed the assembled officials. "The Serpentine Syndicate may be no more, but there are still unknowns we must face. We have reason to believe this operation has ripple effects beyond our borders. Team Unknown has succeeded here, but this isn't the end of their missions."

A murmur of unease rippled through the room as officials exchanged tense glances. Val's gaze returned to the people around him, the throbbing pain in his eye an uncomfortable reminder of the looming threat. His senses, sharpened and heightened, seemed to pick up every shift in emotion, every flicker of doubt and fear among the allied representatives.

Dr. Lewis leaned toward Val, his voice lowered. "Umbra, if anything's off, we need to know. We're on the cusp of a calm before a storm, but these people need to believe this peace will hold."

Val gave a slight nod, though his thoughts were focused inward, battling the sensation that something dark was lurking just out of sight.

One of the allied leaders, a commander from a neighboring country, spoke up, his voice tinged with a hesitant respect. "Umbra, your team's methods are… unparalleled. But this malice, this darkness you've encountered—it's not like anything we're familiar with."

Val's gaze locked onto the commander, the intensity in his eyes hidden by the mask, but his voice carried a cool authority. "There's a darkness brewing that's deeper than the Syndicate. You might not see it, but I can feel it." He allowed the weight of his words to settle, letting the silence that followed fill with a sense of dread.

Another official, visibly unsettled, shifted in his seat, his eyes flicking between Val and Dr. Lewis. "So what you're saying is, this threat isn't over?"

Dr. Lewis responded, his tone carefully measured. "Think of this as an interval, a chance to prepare. The malice Umbra speaks of… it's unlike anything we've encountered. But with Team Unknown, we're in capable hands."

In the pause that followed, Val's eye throbbed again, a piercing reminder of Deleo's words. He glanced down, clenching his fist against the pulse of pain. "Deleo," he thought, "how much time do we have before this… darkness arrives?"

Deleo's voice was soft, but the warning in it was unmistakable. "Time is fluid, Val. The malice you sense is distant but closing in. This calm you feel… it's only temporary. And when it shatters, you'll need every ounce of control to face what's coming."

Val's jaw tightened, but he gave no outward sign of his inner turmoil. He remained still, his posture unwavering as he processed Deleo's words. For now, he would focus on the mission, but the weight of the impending storm lingered, like a shadow that couldn't be shaken.

The room remained tense as the debriefing continued, but Val's mind was elsewhere, already preparing for the darkness that would eventually come for them.