The church stood exactly where we'd left it last night — tall, pale stone catching what little lamplight reached the square, its windows dark except for a single glow near the back. The bell tower loomed overhead, silent and watchful, like it was waiting for something to go wrong.
I didn't like that feeling.
It was the same unease as before, crawling up my spine the moment we stepped onto the cracked stone of the courtyard. Like the place itself was holding its breath.
Theo slowed beside me, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. "You ever notice how this place feels… heavier at night?"
"Yeah," I muttered. "Like it's judging us."
[Ah, places of worship,] Aetherion sighed theatrically inside my head.
[Built to inspire comfort, yet somehow perfect at inducing dread. A fascinating contradiction.]
We reached the doors. Thick oak, iron-bound, worn smooth by decades—maybe centuries—of hands pushing them open. I placed my palm against the wood, hesitating just a second before pushing.
The door creaked in protest, the sound echoing far longer than it should've, rolling through the nave like a low groan. Inside, the air was cool and faintly metallic, layered with the scent of old incense and something sharper beneath it—iron, maybe, or damp stone that had never quite dried.
My footsteps sounded too loud.
Ezikiel stood near the side altar, lantern light casting sharp shadows along his frame. He was sorting through a black bag, movements precise and deliberate. He didn't turn immediately. His shoulders were tense, posture too straight, like he'd been standing there waiting for us.
That alone set my nerves on edge.
"You're late," he said at last, voice smooth but clipped.
Theo stopped dead. "We're not late," he shot back. "We're within the agreed time window."
Ezikiel glanced over his shoulder, just enough for the lantern light to catch his eyes. They gleamed, cold and calculating. "Windows close."
The words landed heavier than they should have, sinking into the space between us like a threat disguised as a fact.
I stepped forward, careful to keep my tone neutral. "We ran into delays. Investigation related."
His gaze slid to me—slow, deliberate—and lingered just a fraction too long. I felt it like a weight pressing against my chest.
[Oh, I don't like that look,] Aetherion murmured.
[The way he looks at you feels… proprietary. As if you're a misplaced object.]
'...That's a weird thing to say.'
[Weird does not equal incorrect.]
Ezikiel turned back to the bag. "Supplies are ready. Same as always."
Theo crossed his arms. "You don't sound thrilled about that."
"I am not thrilled," Ezikiel replied calmly. "About many things."
Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. The lantern flickered once, shadows rippling across the carved saints lining the walls. Their stone eyes seemed to follow us, frozen expressions caught somewhere between mercy and judgment.
I swallowed. "Is there a problem?"
Ezikiel paused.
Just for a second.
His hand stilled on the zipper of the bag, fingers tightening almost imperceptibly before he straightened.
"This business has rules," he said. "Unspoken ones. And you just so happened to break one, boss."
Theo scoffed. "Pardon? You were late yesterday too."
Ezikiel turned fully this time, lips curling into a faint, self-satisfied smile. "Many wish for my services," he said, pride dripping from every word, like he was some five-star merchant doing us a favor. "So it couldn't be helped yesterday."
[Look at him,] Aetherion drawled.
[So proud of his own work, it almost borders delusion. Truly a self-righteous merchant right down to the bone.]
I ignored Aetherion's running commentary and took a measured breath. "So… what? You're not selling the supplies?"
"Oh, no, no, no, boss." Ezikiel lifted both hands, wagging his fingers through the air theatrically. A dangerous smile crept onto his face. "What kind of merchant blows a deal over a hiccup like that?"
Theo visibly relaxed. "Good Lord, man, don't scare us like tha—"
"But," Ezikiel continued smoothly, cutting him off, "as my time is very… precious, you will have to pay extra."
Theo froze.
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Call it," Ezikiel went on, tilting his head, "a small, tiny, little additional fee."
The word fee echoed louder than the church bells ever could.
Theo stared at him. "You're kidding."
Ezikiel's smile widened. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself not to react. 'Of course,' I thought bitterly. 'Of course it comes to this.'
[Ah yes,] Aetherion purred.
[The classic extortion disguised as professionalism. A timeless art.]
'Shut up.'
Theo stepped forward. "That wasn't part of the agreement."
"Agreements change," Ezikiel replied lightly. "Circumstances evolve."
"Funny," Theo snapped, "how they always evolve in your favor."
Ezikiel's gaze sharpened. "Careful."
The temperature in the room seemed to dip another degree. Not because of any anomaly—no distortions, no pressure—but because of something far more human.
Greed. Control. Leverage.
I exhaled slowly, stepping between them before things escalated. "How much?"
Theo shot me a look. "You're seriously—"
"We need the supplies," I said quietly. "Arguing won't help."
Ezikiel's eyes flicked back to me, interest sparking there. "Good Choice," he said. "Very good choice, Boss."
[He likes you,] Aetherion observed dryly.
[That's unfortunate.]
I ignored him and waited.
Ezikiel tapped a finger against the bag. "Ten percent extra."
Theo's mouth fell open. "That's insane!"
"It's business."
I met Ezikiel's gaze, steady and unflinching.
"Fine," I said. "But this doesn't happen again."
His smile sharpened, predatory. "We'll see."
[Oh, this is going to be fun,] Aetherion hummed pleasantly.
[For me, at least.]
I had a sinking feeling he was right.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded bills, the paper suddenly feeling heavier than it should've. My fingers hesitated just a second before extending my hand toward Ezikiel.
That was when the church doors slammed open.
The sound cracked through the nave like a gunshot.
All three of us flinched instinctively, heads snapping toward the entrance as heavy footsteps echoed across the stone floor—slow, deliberate, unapologetically loud.
Whoever it was, they weren't trying to be subtle.
A man stepped inside.
I recognized him immediately—hard not to. The deep black uniform of the BAA Security Department swallowed the lamplight, tailored so precisely it looked more ceremonial than practical.
The silver insignia on his chest glinted faintly, catching the eye without ever asking for attention.
'Is that… the agent Vern is looking for?'
His uniform was immaculate. Not a wrinkle out of place. Dark hair slipped messily from beneath his cap, framing a face set in a lazy, almost amused smile—as if he'd already assessed the entire situation and found it mildly entertaining. But his eyes ruined that illusion. Sharp. Alert. Calculating. The kind of gaze that didn't miss details and didn't forgive mistakes.
A man you couldn't read.
[Would you look at that—finally someone with some fashion sense!] Aetherion practically cheered inside my head.
'It's just the Security Department uniform—'
[If that's standard issue, I'd apply immediately! If only I were a little more… human.]
'Shut up. I need to think.'
The man continued forward, boots striking stone with enough force to echo through the church. Saints and shadows alike seemed to recoil from him.
"There shall be no exploitation," he declared loudly, voice ringing with theatrical authority, "inside my kingdom!"
The words bounced off the walls.
'…What?'
Theo blinked. "Uh. Pardon?"
Ezikiel stiffened beside me. I felt it more than saw it—the way his posture snapped tight, the confidence draining from him in a heartbeat. He hissed under his breath, already shoving the supply bag behind him like a guilty child hiding contraband.
"Is he one of your guys?" he muttered sharply.
I shook my head slowly, eyes never leaving the approaching agent. "Not ours."
I stepped forward, clearing my throat. "Are you—"
He walked right past me.
Didn't even spare me a glance.
The air shifted the moment he stopped in front of Ezikiel. No warning. No buildup. One second he was standing there, relaxed and loose—
—and the next, his arm shot out.
Fingers closed around Ezikiel's throat with brutal precision, lifting him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing at all.
"G—!"
Ezikiel's feet kicked uselessly above the floor, hands clawing at the iron grip crushing his windpipe.
"I shall repeat myself," the agent said calmly, voice ice-cold beneath the echoing authority, "you will not charge my subordinates any additional fees."
'…Excuse me?'
Aetherion's laughter exploded inside my head, rich and delighted.
[OH, THIS IS WONDERFUL.]
[Look at the posture! The confidence! The unnecessary dramatics! I adore him already.]
Theo snapped out of his shock first, rushing forward and grabbing the agent's shoulder. "Hey—HEY! You can't just—"
The man didn't even flinch.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at Theo over his shoulder. Not angry. Not threatened. Just… assessing.
Theo froze.
I'd seen that look before—on Silva. On people who'd decided exactly how dangerous you were in less than a second.
Slowly, deliberately, the agent loosened his grip just enough for Ezikiel to wheeze in a shallow breath—but didn't let go.
"You," the agent said without turning fully, "are interfering."
Theo swallowed. "We're… negotiating."
"Extortion," the agent corrected.
Ezikiel gagged softly, fingers trembling against the man's wrist.
I finally found my voice. "You're… from the Security Department," I said carefully.
The agent hummed. "Quite the Observant Subordinate."
[He's charming,] Aetherion sighed.
[In a deeply unhinged way.]
The man released Ezikiel at last. The merchant collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, scrambling backward until his back hit the altar steps. His earlier smugness was gone—replaced by wide eyes and panicked breaths.
The agent straightened his uniform as if nothing had happened.
"You do business in this kingdom," he said calmly to Ezikiel. "Because I allow it."
Ezikiel nodded frantically. "Y—yes, of course. No extra fees. None. I swear."
"Good."
The agent turned then, finally facing us properly. His gaze settled on me first, lingering with interest.
"You must be from the field investigation Department," he said. "Truly courageous Subordinates."
'Why does he keep calling us his Subordinates?'
[Perhaps because a historical anomaly contaminated him.] Aetherion purred.
[How delightful.]
"I—" I started.
Theo cut in quickly. "We're just here to get our supplies."
The agent smiled faintly. "Do not let such filthy tricksters steal your money. That would put shame to your Emperors name."
And without further ado, he left the church just like that.