Suspicion

Dunn's words struck a chord within Irina, a cold wave of realization washing over her. "I don't remember you ever praising the Goddess," he repeated, his tone growing heavier.

Crestet's gaze turned sharp, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Oh. Why is that?"

Panic settled in her heart even though, deep down, she knew this day would eventually come.

"It's something that has stayed with me ever since living in the orphanage." She tried to look relaxed, not wanting to raise any more suspicion over her actions. "At some point, I stopped believing in the Gods in general."

"So you're saying that, ever since joining, you've never praised the Goddess? Have you ever prayed to 'Her'? Or used 'Her' honorific name in general?" The Deacon's tone was strangely flat.

No. I didn't want 'Her' gaze on me.

She spoke honestly. "I believe not."

Crestet fell silent, lost in thought, while Dunn remained equally quiet beside him.

Irina tried to clear her mind of anything and everything. Nothing she had planned had gone according to plan, having made countless mistakes along the way. I'm just a human... how am I supposed to accomplish anything as a mere sequence 7?

The Deacon's question brought her back to reality. "Would you mind pronouncing 'Her' honorific name right now?"

I knew it... what's done is done. Hopefully, this won't bite me in the ass later on.

"I guess it's fine." She scratched her head in mild annoyance.

She sighed, closing her eyes and switching to ancient Hermes.

"The Evernight Goddess stands higher than the cosmos and more eternal than eternity.

The Mother of Concealment,

The Empress of Misfortune and Horror,

Mistress of Repose and Silence."

She opened her mouth to continue with a normal prayer but stopped midway, not knowing what to say.

Will this be enough? Being under Amanises' gaze is not that bad... Irina tried to comfort herself. Aucuses or, heaven forbid, Leodoro would have been MUCH worse. And let's not talk about the others...

Crestet nodded. "I'd like to speak with you tomorrow, once you've recovered your spirituality."

"Sure, your Grace. In that case, I'll be taking my leave." Irina bade them farewell and walked up the stairs, unaware of the heavy gazes on her back.

Once home, Irina collapsed onto her bed, letting her body sink into its softness as though the blankets could shield her from the growing pressure. She closed her eyes, clumsily using cogitation. Just sleep, she told herself, trying to push aside the storm of thoughts clawing their way to the surface.

But the cracks felt wider with each breath. All her careful planning, her strategies—they felt like they were slipping, shattering to pieces. She hadn't managed to save Old Neil fully, hadn't stopped him from performing that ritual. The Goddess's gaze now upon her; and everyone now knowing about her higher sequence, the fear of being exposed, she knew they were going to tightly monitor her.

As she lay there, her chest tightened with a new fear. If I can't even protect Old Neil... how am I supposed to stop the Megose Incident? How am I supposed to save them all?

Why do I even care so much about them? She asked herself, her heart pounding with the echo of her own question. So what if I've spent months working with them? They're just fictional characters, just... not real people. She held onto that thought desperately, repeating it to herself like a mantra. They're not real—they're just part of a novel. But beneath her own walls, she began to doubt herself. They're just... not real, she thought again, as if trying to convince herself.

If she truly cared, if these people—her coworkers, her captain, her... friends—had come to mean something more, she'd have to face a terrifying truth: that this world of monsters, secrets, and abominatios was now her reality. And that was a reality she wasn't ready to accept. She was just a low-sequence Beyonder, a human, with too little power to truly protect anyone, even herself. No—she had to believe this was all still fiction, something that wasn't real, just a novel, and everything had to flow according to it.

But then why, despite herself, did she long to keep them safe?

Days had passed, and Irina couldn't ignore the shift in Dunn's behavior. His gaze seemed to linger on her a second too long, as if searching for something hidden beneath her surface.

She'd catch his eyes on her even in casual moments, and the way his expression subtly tightened each time she entered a room set her on edge.

Conversations that once flowed easily now felt like tests, his questions probing deeper than they needed to, laced with the kind of caution reserved for handling something unknown—a criminal, her mind added—potentially dangerous.

What hurt the most was the silence that had grown between them, the familiar friendship slipping further away with each passing day. She missed it—the easy conversations, the gentle tease about his relationship with Daly, the trust that felt like family. But she pushed the thoughts down, telling herself it didn't matter, that he was nothing more than a character in a story she already knew.

It doesn't hurt, she whispered to herself, he's not real. She repeated the lie, hoping to make herself believe it, to build the walls back up and pretend his coldness hadn't hit as deeply as it had. But as she caught herself longing for a single, unguarded moment with him, she felt that ache grow—a reminder that, despite her denials, part of her had come to care for all of them.

Monday had come again, Irina and Klein, sitting at the long bronze table, were discussing the week's events as usual, waiting for the clock to strike three.

The seer's tone was solemn. "You won't like what I'm about to tell you."

Irina, already feeling dejected, didn't expect good news from the beginning. "Can it get any worse? Dunn thinks of me as some—some criminal. I'm surprised they didn't keep me behind Chanis Gate for longer."

She continued, but her voice dulled, "They want me in Backlund... I guess they value my Sequence more than anything else..."

"... the Captain asked us to keep an eye one you. He didn't give any specifics, but... with the way he put it. It didn't sound good at all."

She let out a dry chuckle, "Fantastic. So I have the whole team against, and I didn't even notice! I'm just that blind, aren't I?"

Staring at the endless grey fog, she couldn't help but laugh at her own slow demise. "All that work for absolutely nothing, it's not like I've actually achieved something in all this time."

"That is not true and you know it, you are a mid-sequence Beyonder! You're so stro-–"

"NO KLEIN." She took a quick breath to calm herself. "Mid Sequence means nothing for me. I..."

Why... why am I telling him this? He shouldn't know about those problems, she berated herself mentally. He's the protagonist for Gods sake, he has enough on his plate already.

"Forget it," she lowered her gaze, staring at her hands. "I'll deal with it somehow. It won't be long anyway."

Klein tried again, "Whatever it is, I'm sure there are other ways to achieve it," but to no vail.

"Leave it." She stressed, "You can't do anything about it."

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two. It was Irina who broke it, her tone resigned, "It's almost three... actually, I think I'll skip today. I have to at least try to do some preparations."

The seer began slowly, his voice measured, "Last time... you mentioned you were trying to save someone." His eyes softened slightly as he added, "That person was Old Neil, wasn't it?"

Irina lifted her gaze to meet his, the silence between them thick. "Is it something similar this time as well?"

She forced herself to nod. "Yes."

A shadow crossed his face, his lips tightening, holding back his thoughts. "How many more... how many more times will you try to save someone's life?"

"I can't tell you."

His expression faltered, a flicker of understanding and resignation. "I see... good luck. If you need anything, you can always ask."

Irina closed her eyes, nodding without looking at him. "Of course." But even to her own ears, the words sounded hollow.

As if...

Red filled her vision, and she was back in her room, seated on her bed, surrounded by the dim, familiar silence. Her fingers clenched the fabric beneath her.

Days drifted into a blur as Irina immersed herself in her role, her focus sharpening as she acted with an almost desperate intensity. She could feel the seal within her weakening, slowly disappearing with each passing day. Soon—she told herself—it will be time to advance to Sequence 6. A thrill coursed through her at the thought, yet it was dampened by the realization that she still needed the potion and materials for the Sequences that would follow. Her search through Alexandria had revealed a lot, some even stretching back to the First Epoch. But she had been cautious, not daring to even open them. Some doors were better left closed.

In her search, she had found books recounting the lives of Beyonders from long-past eras. Yet, after a few, she abandoned them with a frown, none of those old tales can help me fight against them...

Irina rarely worked alone now. The Captain made sure to always have another Nighthawk accompanying her, keeping watch. Only her shift at Chanis Gate remained private—though even those had grown fewer. She understood what this meant. Dunn was wary of her, and she could do nothing to change this. But she forced herself to ignore the weight of his suspicion, setting her focus solely on her goals. I'm running out of time. Her eyes stung with fatigue, the shadows beneath them growing darker with each passing day. Each missed hour of sleep left her feeling like she was slowly withering. But it doesn't matter. As long as I make it through this mess, I can rest. Just get through it, and then...

When new missions arrived at the Blackthorn Security Company, Irina took a relatively simple assignement, investigate one of Lanevus acquaintance. But there was another mission that made her stomach twist, an investigation into Madam Sharon, with Klein assigned to tail her, as per Dunn's orders.

Not much time passed, and the custodian's thoughts grew hazier as she felt her seal weakening further. No wonder, she mused, her fingers running along the edges of her pocket mirror. She was constantly monitoring it as well as daily visiting Alexandria. It's no wonder this is the easiest seal to break, she thought. I don't have to digest it the way other Beyonders would.

One quiet afternoon in the lounge, she was skimming through a magazine, barely paying attention to the pages as Frye and Kenley sat across from her, each absorbed in their own reading. The silence was unexpectedly shattered by footsteps outside, followed by a sharp knock and the sudden swing of the door.

"Irina, Kenley." Klein stood there, his face unusually grave. "We have a new mission."

With a quick nod, she set down her magazine, exchanging a tense look with Kenley as they rose. The two followed Klein to the Captain's office, where, moments later, Dunn emerged from the basement carrying a mirror wrapped tightly in thick, dark cloth.

"You're in charge of using Sealed Artifact 3-0217," he instructed, passing the artifact carefully to Kenley.

Once again, Irina thought, a flicker of resentment and determination flickering inside her. I've reached this point without advancing higher... But her frustration faded into resolve. I'm a Sequence 7, for heaven's sake! I will find a way to change this mission's outcome!

Lost in thought, Irina barely noticed as the four of them made their way downstairs and climbed into a carriage that would take them to their target. Kenley glanced down at the heavy artifact in his hands, his tension evident.

"This is the first time I've been involved in something like this," he murmured nervously. "They don't normally assign Sealed Artifacts for Beyonder incidents."

Klein offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Maybe Madam Sharon has already fled."

Dunn gave the seer a weary look, his tone dry. "Let's try not to let Madam Sharon escape."

That's going to be the least of our problems.