The morning sun cast long shadows over the clan's estate as we made our way toward the main hall. The structure loomed before us, a testament to old-world architecture fused with modern enhancements—polished stone walls, reinforced gates, and subtle energy runes embedded in the foundation. It was clear that, despite their secrecy, this clan had resources.
I adjusted my suit jacket, the weight of my swords resting comfortably at my side. The others walked in formation—Zach, calm and composed; Amir, twirling a throwing knife between his fingers; Nel, her sharp gaze scanning the surroundings; and Deya, her expression unreadable.
A group of clan guards stood at the entrance, their posture rigid as we approached. Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a jagged scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. His aura was controlled but brimming with barely restrained hostility.
"You're early," he muttered, eyes flicking to our weapons.
"Time is valuable," I replied smoothly. "Especially when an unstable domain threatens to collapse and take your entire estate with it."
The man's jaw tightened. He turned on his heel, motioning for us to follow. "The clan leader is waiting."
Inside, the tension was even thicker. Servants moved with hurried steps, their whispers hushed. The air felt heavy—not just with anxiety, but with something else. A presence.
Zach's hand brushed against his cufflinks, his eyes narrowing. "The domain's influence is spreading. It wasn't this bad last night."
Amir let out a low whistle. "So either it's accelerating, or someone's making it worse."
Nel shot him a look before focusing ahead. "Let's find out."
We were led through a grand hallway into a vast chamber. At the far end, seated on an ornate chair, was the clan leader. An older man with streaks of silver in his dark hair, draped in ceremonial robes. His gaze was sharp, assessing us before he spoke.
"You must be Team One," he said, his voice steady but laced with exhaustion. "I assume you've already drawn your own conclusions about our situation."
I stepped forward, meeting his gaze. "That you had a level three domain user in your ranks, and that their death left behind a sleeping domain? Yes. That much is clear." I let the words sink in before continuing. "What isn't clear is why you never reported it to the Organization. Or why you called us only when it became uncontrollable."
A beat of silence. The air crackled faintly.
The clan leader exhaled, his fingers tightening around the armrest. "Because we had no choice."
Deya, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. "No choice? You expect us to believe that?"
The old man's gaze darkened. "Believe what you want. But if you think we've been sitting idly while our home is consumed, then you underestimate us."
Zach folded his arms. "Then prove it. Tell us what you've been hiding."
The clan leader hesitated, then glanced toward the back of the chamber. A set of heavy doors stood there, flanked by more guards.
"What lies beyond that door," he said, "is the heart of our clan's legacy. And the source of your mission."
I exchanged a glance with my team. Then, without another word, we followed him toward the doors—toward whatever truth had been buried behind them.