Arin moved quietly to the side. The receptionist gave a faint, polite smile before returning to her screen, as if he’d already disappeared. Arin scanned the lobby anxiously, wondering how long he would be kept waiting, but it didn’t take long.

There was no sound. Not even footsteps. He was simply... there.

Arin blinked. Then he was just there. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a sharp, plain dark gray suit stood in the lobby's dim corner. No badge or insignia. There was something in how he carried himself. A quiet authority that made it clear he was here to guard.

The man's gaze locked onto him. Not at the receptionist, not at the surroundings. At Arin.

“They’re expecting you.”

The other elevators were at a distance, aligned in a neat row: gleaming glass doors, bright indicators, perfectly ordinary, perfectly functional spaces for employees and visitors alike. But the man didn't even look in that direction. He just moved quietly into a narrower corridor. The floor here shifted from bright marble to dark stone, the lights grew dim, and the ceiling felt lower. At the end, a door vanished into the wall itself, more architecture than entrance. No sign, no light gave it away. You'd likely walk past without ever knowing it was an elevator. He pulled a keycard, scanned it silently. The doors opened with a slow, heavy precision. Inside, it was spotless and cold, as if no one had ever truly lived there. There was no panel of buttons, only a hidden route straight to the top.

As Arin stepped inside, Azimushan’s voice curled into his mind, lazy and hushed. “I’m here, master. Just whisper.”

Arin's eyes narrowed on the man, his suspicion sharp. He said nothing, simply pressing the single button. The doors sealed, and the lift began its quiet climb, as if it had no other choice.

The rooftop.

Corwin family territory.

No one else’s.

Eventually, the elevator stopped. No one came to meet him; the enormous man merely gestured ahead.

The hall felt cold and expensive, wealthy but lifeless. Only the faintest trace of florals softened the chill.

The waiting room beyond was no different. Simple, with light walls and a plain couch. Outside the tall windows, a busy city stretched. Its buildings were so high, they touched the sky. The heavens seemed to begin right there. No question lingered about the floor; this was where the sky itself began. He caught his reflection in the glass. His coat was neat, though his boots were worn. His eyes were alert. Almost silently, a hidden door in the wall slid open. A tall, middle-aged woman stood there. Her hair was perfect. Her gaze, sharp and unyielding. Her makeup and clothes were subtle, never too much. Confidence radiated from her posture as an unspoken claim this is mine.

She looked directly at Arin. After a pause, she spoke.

“I’m Elise Corwin. Kael’s mother. They said you’ve come to see him.”

Arin inclined his head slightly. “Hello. I’m Arin Ravenscar. We work together.” And then, as if that weren’t quite enough: “Kael saved my life.”

The woman tilted her head just so. In that tiny gesture, Arin recognized Kael’s posture in hers. Cold, distant, restrained.

Yes. It was clear who Kael took after.

The woman offered no further response. At last, she gave a faint gesture of invitation. “Come. Let’s not keep you waiting.”

Arin followed her in silence. The hallway simply swallowed their footsteps, leaving only a hushed quiet. The walls were bare, yet they felt vast.

The room they entered felt more like a palace parlor than a home. High ceilings stretched above vast windows that dimmed the gray light. The space was grand yet cold, stripped of any unnecessary furniture. Near the entrance, only one painting disrupted the plainness: a grand portrait of the Corwin family. Two sons and two daughters, posed in dignity, embodied the family’s prestige.

The portrait was perfect. Too perfect. No one smiled. No one touched. Just a row of faces, stiff and distant, frozen in place.

At the center of the room, a white staircase curved gently upward. At its base stood a small sakura tree. Pale pink petals clung to its branches. It was the only sign of life in the space.

The woman turned to Arin, gesturing with practiced politeness to the wide beige couches. “You may be seated. Will you require refreshment?”

She sounded like a hostess but moved like a diplomat preparing for negotiations, not tea. Polite, but utterly devoid of warmth. She seated herself on the edge of the opposite couch.

Arin shook his head and tried to settle onto his seat as well. “Thank you. No.”

She said nothing. At a silent nod, a servant appeared from nowhere and set a small tray before Arin. Whether he wanted it or not, it seemed to be required: mineral water or ginger tonic, in fragile glass and porcelain.

Wanting to break the awkward silence, Arin ventured, his voice soft and uncertain, “It’s… very quiet here.”

The woman lifted her chin slightly, offered a faint smile.

“One hesitates to speak,” Arin added with a nervous smile of his own.

The woman crossed her legs with elegant precision. “Does one?” she said, making no effort to carry the conversation further.

The chill was obvious. Arin shifted tactics.

“Would it be possible for me to see Kael?” he asked, more firmly now, though still carefully.

The woman gave a small nod, her expression unchanged.

“It’s possible. But that depends on his wishes.”

“Meaning…?” Arin asked, his patience thinning.

A soft cough broke the quiet. Arin turned and saw Kael standing at the top of the stairs.

He froze.

Kael looked worn but was still standing. That alone brought a strange kind of relief that Arin had not realized he needed.

Kael wore a deep, almost black robe. It was simple and elegant. His posture was steady but his eyes showed fatigue. Not a strand of hair was out of place.

"Arin. You’re here," Kael said as he started down the stairs.

His mother stood abruptly. "I will leave you," she said and walked out without looking back.

Arin stood too, unsure if he should stay seated. He gave Kael a faint smile.

They faced each other in silence.

After a moment, Kael spoke again with a lower voice rough from tiredness. "I did not expect you."

Arin dipped his head. “You saved my life… I wanted to see for myself that you’re all right.”

Kael’s gaze drifted to the window briefly, then returned to him. “It was my duty to protect you. As you can see, I’m fine.”

Arin knew protection wasn't part of Kael's job, but he nodded anyway. “I’m glad. Still… thank you.”

Kael’s gaze lingered on Arin a moment longer than expected. “How did you manage to find your way here?”

Arin gave a small, wry smile. “I bullied a few people, begged a little, and made a few threats.”

To his surprise, Kael returned the smile briefly, and for a moment the room seemed a bit less cold. Then the smile faded.

“Since you’ve seen I’m alright, we need to get to the serious part,” he said.

Arin was surprised by the shift but nodded. “Oh... sure.”

Kael’s tone grew cautious. “I think someone is after you. They want you dead.”

“What happened yesterday was planned from the very start.”

Arin tilted his head slightly, studying him with curiosity.

“They knew we would go to the Archives after seeing the body at the underground station. Maybe… the station officer was killed just for that.”

Arin blinked. “So… you think it was a trap from the start, right?” he asked.

Kael nodded, his voice cold but calm:

“Yes. It was the first move to get to you. If someone is willing to kill a helpless man just to reach you… they’ll do much worse next.”

Arin tensed involuntarily, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“What do we do now?”

Kael fixed his gaze on him.

“We’ll be ready.”