Content Note: Contains themes of old trauma, betrayal, and intense scenes. Reader discretion is advised.

Upon arriving in the capital, she went straight to the Special Forces Headquarters. She carried with her a thick stack of files— every report, record, and observation she had compiled during her detour.

The headquarters stood tall and quiet in the dusk, its lights casting a cold glow against the evening haze. She stepped inside. Officers and staff were busy at their stations, too focused to notice her presence at first.

After a short conversation with the receptionist, she was escorted through the halls to the office of the commanding heads. No greetings. No small talk. She placed the files on the table— neatly packed and clearly labeled.

The officers opened them, flipping through the pages. Their expressions shifted from confusion to disbelief as the sheer volume and depth of the data sank in.

But she didn’t wait for their questions or reactions. Without a word, she turned and walked out.

The same cab was waiting outside. She slid into the back seat and gave the driver a simple instruction:

“Take me to a nearby inn. Nothing fancy. Just somewhere quiet.”

Soon, they reached a modest building tucked between two larger complexes. A small inn, the kind of place people passed without noticing. She checked in, booked a one- bedroom unit, just large enough to stretch and breathe.

Inside, she peeled off her uniform and stepped into a long, steaming shower. The water hit her back, washing away the dust and fatigue. When she stepped out, her hair was still damp. She barely dried off before flopping onto the mattress. Within minutes, she was out cold.

The city outside buzzed deep into the night. Inside, she slept like a log.

The morning arrived.

Bzzzz! Bzzzz! Bzzzz!

The alarm rattled against the bedside table. She groaned and rolled over, stretching an arm out to silence it. For a few more seconds, she lay still, eyes half-shut.

Then she sat up, rubbed her face, dropped to the floor, and did a quick round of push-ups. Cold water followed— splashing over her face, snapping her fully awake.

As she wiped her face with a towel, something caught her eye.

A letter. Slipped under the door, barely noticeable unless you were looking right at it.

She walked over and picked it up.

Stamped on the front was the insignia of the Special Forces—East Capital Division. Beside the mark, in clean bold writing:

“For Alpha Wraith.”

She paused.

Took a slow breath.

Then stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the envelope.

What now?

She broke the seal. Inside was a single piece of paper.

And it read—

From:
Special Forces Division (Central Capital)

To:
Code Name - Alpha Wraith

Time Sent:
0618 Hours

Subject: Invitation - Special Force Strategic Conference

Good morning, Commander,

After reviewing your recent mission report, we would be honored to have your presence at today's Special Forces Strategic Conference. Your insights and experiences would be highly valuable to the ongoing discussions regarding security reinforcement strategies.

The session will be held at 1500 hours at the Capital Defense Center, East Wing.

We understand the short notice, but your participation would be greatly appreciated.

Dress code: Formal uniform.

A private car will be dispatched to your registered location by 1330 hours.

Looking forward to your attendance.

Respectfully,

Major Varyn Keats

Special Forces Commander

She sighed softly. “I guess rest in the capital just isn’t for me…”

A glance at the clock. “Ugh. Already half past twelve.”

Thirty minutes later, she was dressed and ready. A long grey coat with polished medals over a crisp white shirt, black tie, black pants, and polished black shoes. She checked out of the inn without fail.

The black car with East Wing Special Forces insignia stood there waiting at the gate.

As the city rolled past her window, skyscrapers gleamed under the sharp midday sun. A blend of old and new— the capital’s pride on full display. After nearly ninety minutes of silent travel, the car finally slowed near the East Wing Special Forces headquarters.

The conference hall was almost festive. Workers rushed around with decorations in hand. Officers moved through the crowd, barking orders or carrying stacks of documents.

The building itself was enormous. Inside- two grand staircases framing a central emblem of the East Wing carved into stone. Between them stood a glass elevator. She stepped inside, watching everything blur behind the moving glass.

A thought ran in her mind- "Is this really a Special Force Strategic Conference Hall, It looks more like some high-end Auction Hall for rich!"

On the upper floor, the waiting room buzzed with conversation. Soldiers and officers murmured about the recent missions, the border raids, the growing tensions.

She waited quietly.

Then, the call came.

Everyone was summoned to the main hall below.

A podium had been set up. Rows of chairs lined the marble floor. The room filled with people, each taking their place with practiced order.

A tall man in a sharp uniform walked up to the podium. His jacket was covered in medals, a silver braid looped around his right arm. His presence alone quieted the room.

“I am Major Varyn Keats,” he began, voice steady and clear. “Commander of the East Wing.”

He spoke about the Eastern Division’s achievements, their history, their sacrifices. The tone was proud— but calm.

Then came the shift.

“Today,” he said, pausing, “We honor a soldier unlike any other. One who, without the backing of a full division, infiltrated an enemy headquarter, extracted valuable intel, and returned without a scratch.”

Whispers rippled across the hall. Heads turned.

“Codename: Alpha Wraith.”

A beat.

“A commander… from a city many here would overlook. And yet—one of our finest.”

The room went still.

Liora stood up and headed towards the podium. He stepped forward and carefully pinned a medal to her coat.

Then he smiled, not as an officer— but as someone genuinely impressed and announced.

“As a gesture of our deepest respect, Captain… you are hereby invited to join the Capital Special Forces, East Wing— Unit 24— as a Lieutenant.”

The room held its breath.

She didn’t hesitate.

“Thank you for the offer, sir. But I won’t be accepting this privilege.”

The words rang loud and clear.

A stunned silence gripped the room. Somewhere, a glass shattered.

The Major didn’t take offense. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I must say… I’m both amused and proud. Even in the smaller cities, such strength still blooms.”

Polite applause followed. She stepped off the stage. People nodded to her, some saluted, some greeted. The medal gleamed on her chest. More awards were handed out. A banquet was announced but she didn’t stay.

Outside, she entered the cab again and leaned in close to whisper the destination.

The ride was quiet.

Eventually, they stopped far from the East Wing Hall— at a small, almost forgotten graveyard. No one else was around. It was quiet, Dim.

She bought a bouquet of white lilies from a stall near the entrance, then walked alone past the crooked stones and overgrown paths.

She stopped at a simple grave. No grand markings. Just a name and a date.

She knelt and placed the lilies at its base.

“…Hey, Mum.”

Silence.

Her fingers brushed the cold stone. She looked down, voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s been fourteen years. I’ve been doing better… really.”

A long pause. Her throat tightened.

“But about her. My sister. I don’t know where she is. Or if she’s okay.”

Another pause.

“I wish…”

The words died in her throat. She wasn’t able to finish.

She stood, bowed her head, and whispered, “Please give me strength, Mum. I swear— I’ll avenge you.”

The wind answered, rustling through the trees and grass.

She didn’t look back but as she left she tried searching around with a hope on her eyes but that shattered quickly.

A helicopter waited not far off. It lifted her straight back to her city— directly to the command office.

The rest of the day passed in silence.

The next morning, she sat in her cramped office cabin, half- listening as a junior officer rattled off a supply report. Boxes were still stacked near the door— unopened and ignored for now.

“They sent way less than what we were supposed to receive, ma’am,” he said, placing the paper on her desk.

Her cheek rested against one hand, the other drumming against the report without much interest. She was flipping through a Capital newspaper instead.

"Figures," she muttered. "After all that work—they didn’t even send the promised goods."

She sighed under her breath. "Maybe for them I was just a convenient tool to use... using a nobody like me for a high--risk mission."

While reading a headline caught her eye.

"Ghost Strikes Again: Unknown Soldier Infiltrates Enemy Base, Extracts Classified Intel—Unscathed."

She scoffed.

“Pfft. Ghost? Sounds like a damn video game character.”

The junior, still standing nearby, cracked a grin. “Do you play video games in your free time, Commander?”

“Shut up,” she said flatly, eyes still on the paper.

Just then, another officer—young, sharp, and clearly in a hurry—pushed open the door, a file in her hands.

“Commander,” she started, “About General Marek. He still won’t speak. Nothing about this involvement in illegal intercountry human trafficking, black market ties, or the scams. But the evidence we’ve got— it’s solid. If we want to bring this to light nationally, we need his statement. We’ve tried every method—”

“Okay, okay. Got it, Maria,” she interrupted calmly.

But her face said otherwise. Her fist clenched the supply report and crushed it into a ball. She tossed it into the trash beside the desk.

From the drawer, she pulled out a pair of rubber gloves.

Snap!

Snap!

“Guess I’ll have to deal with that bastard myself.”

Chapter End

.....................................................................................................................................

End of Chapter Note

And that’s a wrap for this arc!

It was a messy, chaotic, sleep-depriving hassle—but it’s done. Finally.

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— Aizu Kin