The morning after FaeLina's return was the strangest the team had yet experienced in the Fairy Realm. The illegal scent of woodsmoke still clung to the air in their sterile white room, a small, defiant act of coziness. For the first time since arriving, they had a purpose—a ridiculous, nonsensical, and deeply un-procedural purpose, but a purpose nonetheless.
FaeLina, looking like a tiny, determined general, hovered in the center of their makeshift fort. "Alright, team," she announced, her voice sharp and clear. "The report is due in five days. The task is impossible, which means time is a resource we cannot afford to waste. I have delegated the preliminary research." She gestured to the single table, where four neat stacks of illegal, non-standard parchment now sat, each with a name at the top. "Your assignments are ready. And," she added, her voice a low, serious buzz, "try not to get arrested again."
