To say the atmosphere was tense was an understatement—it was oppressive. Sitting opposite Garreth, Diana stared daggers at him, fingers steepled and elbows planted firmly on her desk. It was after hours at the Bureau, and the building was eerily mute, save for the ticks and tocks from the clock mounted on the wall nearby. Each audible second passed by like a countdown to an inevitable explosion.

  Light from the overhead electric lamps outside spilt into the office through the door's window, the only source of illumination in the otherwise unlit room. Garreth appeared a silhouette, his own shadow stretching ahead of him. And through the lengthy stillness, the scent of cigar smoke and stale coffee lingered in the air. Having been awakened in the middle of the night to deal with this situation, the woman let out a deep sigh.

  "You know, when I told you the ministry would be watching your every move, I figured you'd take the hint. Yet here we are," she said, her voice brimming with disappointment. "It's almost as if you went completely out of your way to go against my warning."

  Arms crossed, the man tilted his head. "Listen, I know this looks bad, but—"

  "Looks bad?!" Diana shouted, cutting Garreth off. "Bad doesn't even begin to cover it! It's one thing to break into private property, vandalise dozens of priceless clay sculptures, damage two expensive automobiles, and bomb the Wenton Bridge—but to go through all that just to hunt down a victim of the factory attack? If that doesn't scream guilty, I don't know what does."

  "He wasn't a victim, Diana; he was the blueblood responsible for the steel plant's destruction. You can compare the reports the kid and I wrote up. Fuck it, check the records; you'll see that he was a student at the Magick Academy."

  "And I'm telling you, Gary, that isn't enough. There were no traces of magicks in any of the locations. That journal you robbed?" Reaching into her drawer, the woman pulled out the leatherbound book and tossed it before the man. "Contains absolutely no information that links him to the terrorist attack. Even that letter in your pocket is incomprehensible. All you've done is make it seem like you were trying to silence the guy and to be honest, I'm starting to believe that was the case."

  "Are you fucking kidding me? You've known me for years, Diana. Do you really think I'd go rogue on a whim for bluebloods, of all people? I'd sooner work with those crimson-skinned fiends from across the pond!"

  "Of course I don't, but again, do you think that's what the ministry will think when they find out about this? You've practically handed them the narrative on a silver platter."

  "The ministry can eat shit!" Fuming, the man bolted upright from his chair. "A magus is loose out there while we sit here and argue about nothing! Tell those pricks it's blood on their hands if they want to waste time framing me instead of stopping the real threat!"

  And the woman hammered her fists against the desk, a loud thud reverberating through the room. "This isn't a fucking game, Garreth! Do you even understand the position you've put yourself in? You're in deep shit! And over what? A hunch spurred by a load of drivel some back-alley kid told you?"

  "That kid was a witness present at the scene of the crime. And when have I never been in deep shit? You know damn well how I roll, Diana. I go with my gut, break a few rules, and you smooth things over with the suits. It's how it went down in Blackmoor, and it's how it's been ever since in Wenton. In the end, I'm always fucking right!"

  "Those instances were different because you had something to show for it. Right now, though? You've got zero evidence, zero leads, and a trail of breadcrumbs that connects you directly to that disaster. To begin with, why didn't you notify me when you caught wind of this Holstein guy's involvement?"

  "Because I knew you wouldn't sign off on it. You would've bogged us down in red tape while that orcish bastard covered his tracks. I merely saved myself the trouble."

  "And in the end, did you manage to catch him?"

  "We almost had him, Diana! He just... slipped through our fingers."

  Reclining in her seat, Diana massaged her temple and groaned. "This has become a real shitshow, you know that? I can't bail you out this time, Gary..."

  "So what? That's it? I'm just royally fucked from this point on?"

  "Normally, yes. That is unless we take the initiative..."

  "The initiative?"

  Calmly, the woman slipped a sheet of paper in front of Garreth. It was a form of sorts, with rows of lines waiting to be filled in and an official seal stamped at the bottom. Holding it up to his good eye, the man furrowed his brow, confused as to what his boss was hinting at.

  "What? You want me to write an apology letter?"

  "Not quite," Diana breathily asserted, handing him a fountain pen. "I want you to write a confession letter addressed to the ministry."

  "You want me to incriminate myself?"

  "No, not yourself."

  That was when it dawned on Garreth what the woman was suggesting.

  "You want me to pin the blame on the kid..."

  "It's your word against hers. Anti-elf sentiment has been on the rise lately. I'm certain the higher-ups will accept this version of events instead. Just tell them she was in cahoots with the magi at the steel plant and had been manipulating you with magicks from the day you met. That'll undoubtedly take the pressure off you."

  "She doesn't even have the Gift."

  "That doesn't matter, now, does it? All top brass wants is a scapegoat to quell public unrest. They'll spin it however they need to. For them, it's about saving face. It's a lot more believable, too, since she came out of nowhere."

  "I'm not passing the buck to my partner, Diana."

  "Look, I don't like it any more than you do. But it's the only shot you have at clearing your name. Your career is at stake here, Gary! That and your chances of finding the magus who murdered your family. So I implore you, as your long-time friend and superior, to do this."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Glancing over the paper one last time, the man angrily crumpled it up and tossed it aside. "This is not the out I'm taking; that's final. Think of something else."

  "Think of something else?" Diana scoffed. "There is no something else. This is the best you'll get, and it only comes at the cost of a tagalong you've had for less than a month."

  "That tagalong has saved my neck more times than you'll ever know. I am not flinging her under the bus to get out of a mess I created."

  "You can't be serious. First, you complain about the knife-eared brat, and now you're willing to throw your life away for her? The fuck's gotten into you, Garreth?"

  His jaw tightened, and Garreth remained silent.

  Upon noticing the smoulder in his glare, the woman was hit with a realisation. And she laughed dryly and returned his scowl with a wry smirk. "Oh, I see how it is," she sneered. "You know, I was wondering why you were so quick to soften up to your new partner after the factory debacle, but the more I think about it, the more obvious it becomes."

  "What are you getting at?"

  "Pretend all you like. You and I both know the truth." Diana's golden irises glimmered with cognisance. "Every time you look at that girl, you're reminded of your wife... Cait, aren't you? She was an elf, wasn't she? Or perhaps you see in her the half-elf child you never got to meet."

  Eyes as wide as saucers, Garreth froze, his muscles stiffening as her remark sank in. All colour drained from his face as her observation stabbed him straight through the heart, and his breath hitched in his throat. As the atmosphere thickened, the woman caught on rather speedily that she'd struck a nerve. Gritting his teeth, the man stared at the ground, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Don't you dare bring them up..."

  "Ah, did I hit the nail on the head?" Diana's lips curved into a mocking smile.

  "You're pushing it, Diana."

  "Consider this a reality check. There's no reason for you to care about that girl. She's just another recruit, one that might not even last a year in the field. You, on the other hand, are our ace, a veteran with a record that can't be ignored. So stop clinging to whatever twisted sense of redemption you think she represents. It's a weakness, Gary, and it's going to destroy you."

  Garreth's fists trembled, his knuckles white.

  Unable to hold himself back, he pressed the balls of his feet against the floor and lunged at his boss. "You asked for it, asshole—!"

  And in one swift motion, the woman drew her cutlass and levelled it inches away from the man's throat, forcing him to relent. The mithril blade gleamed faintly, its tip steady and unwavering as it hovered just shy of Garreth's neck. Clutching the handle of her sword, Diana narrowed her eyes at her insubordinate colleague, her expression now one of cold, calculated control with a tinge of pity. "You've lost your edge, Garreth. You've let your emotions cloud your judgment."

  Taking a few staggered steps back, the man averted his gaze and clicked his tongue. "Tch..."

  Slackening her shoulders, the woman sheathed her weapon and extended an open palm. "Hand it over."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Your badge. Hand it over."

  "You can't possibly—"

  "I said, hand over your badge, agent. That's an order!"

  Reluctantly, Garreth did as she asked him to and removed the distinctive Bureau emblem from his jacket. Once he'd placed it in her hand, he backed away slowly.

  "You're suspended, proper. No more wishy-washy excuses. Either you clear your name, or you're out for good. You have until noon to turn in the written confession, understood?

  "You're joking."

  "If I catch you operating out of protocol again... we're done. Doesn't feel good being on the receiving end, does it?"

  "Diana..."

  "Now, call in the girl and wait outside. You're dismissed, agent!"

  Without another word, the man whipped around, his hands still clenched as he stormed out of the room. Slamming the door behind him, Garreth leaned against the wall and ran his hand through his dark, dishevelled hair. "Fuck me..." He muttered to himself, conflicted by the dilemma he was presented with. That was when his eyes landed on the half-elf sitting timidly on the chair nearby, worriedly peeking at the man through a potted plant beside her.

  With a wobbly gait that betrayed his cool exterior, the man approached his partner.

  "Chief wants to talk to you." Garreth thumbed toward the office. "Get in there."

  "O-o-okay..." Lynn stuttered and stumbled to her feet, striding past her gloomy partner.

  Entering the room, the half-elf came face-to-face with Diana. It was the first time they'd ever properly met, and her heart beat out of her chest as she stood rooted to the ground by the door, avoiding eye contact with the intimidating presence on the other side of the office.

  "Please, take a seat," the woman politely said, gesturing toward the empty chair.

  "Y-yes, ma'am."

  Ears angled downward, Lynn settled into the chair in an awkwardly taut pose, the warmth from where her partner had sat adding to her discomfort. And Diana quietly studied the half-elf from head to toe. A suffocating silence hung in the air between them; shifting restlessly in her seat, Lynn twiddled her fingers as she waited for the other shoe to drop. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the woman spoke up. "You've been working with Garreth for a while now, haven't you?"

  Startled by the sudden question, the half-elf flinched only to lower her head and answer meekly. "Y-yes, I have, ma'am. For almost a month."

  "And in that short time you two have known each other, what do you think of him?"

  "U-um..."

  "Come now, don't be shy. He isn't here with us, so feel free to speak your mind. Whatever you say stays in these four walls."

  Wringing her hands, Lynn hesitated before mustering up the courage as she stared at her feet. "W-well, uh, I guess he's not the best partner out there... actually, to be honest with you... he's a terrible partner..."

  Diana raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

  "I-I don't mean it in a bad way; I just... h-he tends to go at his own pace. You'd think, based on his reputation, he'd be a well-rounded maverick. But... that's when he works solo. In a team, he's at times full of himself and an unruly, reckless, blunt, and impulsive old man with a smoking problem."

  Caught off guard by her brutal honesty, the woman wrenched out a grin. "Y-you've got one heck of a mouth on you, huh?"

  "T... that being said, though..." Lynn paused, biting her lip. Her pointy ears drooped even lower. "I think he's a good person."

  "Hm? Why is that?"

  "He... he always looks out for me, even when he doesn't have to. I know he acts like he prioritises the mission over lives, but deep down, I don't think he does. I've seen him risk his life for others! Above all, though, he doesn't treat me like a nuisance just because I'm half-elf. That's... really rare. I mean, he's even defended me a few times..."

  Diana's simper faltered, and a flicker of emotion flashed across her face—a visible crack in her facade.

  "You probably don't understand where I'm coming from," the half-elf continued. "I-I know you have your issues with him... so do I. But, the fact of the matter is, he's an upstanding person. My partner—no... Garreth is the kind of man who would stay by your side even when the world stands against you!"