AZRAEL SERAPHANE…?

I stared into the mirror.

He looked the same as I remember—though the years had sharpened him.

The lines along his jaw, the weight in his eyes. 

He wore it well, like someone who understood the value of fear.

My gaze traced the glass, but the reflection didn’t blink, didn’t falter. 

It was like staring at a memory I never wanted to keep.

We haven’t met in years, but now… now I know exactly what he looks like.

And tonight, I’ll wear that face as my own.

The last time we saw each other, it was back then. 

Even after all this time, I know him better than he knows himself. 

Yet that day, it was as if I was looking at a stranger.

A knock at the door.

Aeris’s voice, soft but edged with tension, filtered through.

“It’s time. Are you ready?”

Before I could answer, she followed with, “I’m coming in.”

The door opened, and the atmosphere shifted—light cutting into shadow. 

She stepped in, golden hair catching the dim glow, azure eyes steady. 

Her white dress, lined with delicate frills, framed her like something too perfect to belong here.

My chest tightened, a quiet ache giving way to awe. 

I’d known her since we were kids, but tonight felt different.

Maybe it was the dress.

Maybe it was the way the light caught in her hair.

Or maybe it was because after everything that happened… after Club Vanta, after the safehouse, after that kiss—

She was still here.

Still choosing to stand beside me.

She giggled softly. “Do I really look that pretty, for you to stare at me like that?”

A small smile escaped me before I could stop it.

“You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly.

Beautiful.

The kind that made me want things I shouldn’t.

“I’d rather hear that from you when you’re not wearing Azrael’s face.”

Her words pulled me back to the plan we set last night.

MI'KAEL SERAPHANE — 24 HOURS EARLIER

“There’s one role, a role only you can play, Mi'kael,” Nero had said. 

“Besides the color of your hair and eyes, you’re pretty much identical.”

“We can just fix that with facial imprint technology to temporarily change those aspects,” Aeris cut in.

“What?” I’d asked, still trying to process it.

“It’s one of the inventions our R&D Department came up with for special excursions. Fit for certain personal uses… and for those willing to pay the right price,” she replied.

Still puzzled, I tilted my head.

“Caelora Industries indulges in multiple fields, Mi’kael,” Aeris added. 

“Most of Terra Prime’s military expansions are commissioned to us. It’s one of the core reasons why the Seraphane wanted good diplomatic relations.”

“If that’s the case, then Rael Vantari must have something worth offering them too, no?” I asked.

“Mmm. That’s true. The Vantari Group has always kept secrecy about their actual work,” replied Nero.

“It’s just a baseless rumor in the corporate world,” Aeris said, “but there’s reason to believe Rael Vantari may have cracked the code on how the ability of the Seraphane works.”

I’d always thought the power of the Seraphane was a blessing bestowed on them. 

It felt supernatural, even in a world ruled by science and technology.

“Whatever he’s come up with… it’s probably not Boost,” I said. “I didn’t indulge much in the research on our abilities back in Vel’Serah, but if there’s one thing I’m sure of…”

I stared at the mark on my left hand, tracing its edges with my fingers.

“It’s not something simple science can solve,” I murmured. “There’s more to this world than we know.”

MI'KAEL SERAPHANE

The thought faded with the sensation beneath my fingertips. 

My hand dropped, and the weight of the present pressed in again. 

The room smelled faintly of her perfume. 

Muffled music from the ballroom bled through the walls.

Her face—too close now to be a memory—pulled me back entirely.

I stepped forward and offered my hand. She took it without hesitation, her arm slipping around mine.

“Well then,” she said, a smile ghosting her lips, “shall we?”

Aeris lifted her colombina, gold filigree catching the light like a whisper of fire.

I raised mine—black, edged in silver—and slipped it into place.

Through the narrow eyeholes, the world felt sharper, more deliberate.

I turned to the mirror once more.

Azrael Seraphane stared back.

It’s time.

The ballroom doors opened with a whisper, spilling golden light and the low hum of conversation into the corridor.

I stepped through.

The marble underfoot reflected chandeliers shaped like frozen suns, each glint fractured into a thousand shards across the mirrored walls. 

People moved like clockwork — laughter timed, smiles measured, every gesture choreographed to fit the spectacle.

I didn’t smile. 

Azrael wouldn’t.

“Lord Seraphane,” a man in a wolf’s mask greeted, bowing slightly. 

His voice had the careful respect reserved for men who could end your career with a look.

My gaze — cold, unreadable — met his for a fraction of a second. 

I walked past without slowing.

I could feel Aeris’s presence just behind me, her arm still hooked through mine. 

Her laugh was light, melodic, and meant for the ears of every curious onlooker.

“You’re doing well,” she murmured under her breath, lips barely moving.

“Nobody knows him better than I do after all.” I whispered, calm and composed, as I surveyed the area, making sure no one heard us.

Still. 

There was doubt within me that someone would be able to see through my disguise.

We moved deeper into the crowd. 

The music swelled — a string quartet in the corner, their bows dancing with surgical precision. 

People swirled past in masks of silver, gold, porcelain, feathers. 

Every step was a risk; one wrong reaction and the entire façade would crumble.

Then my eyes caught movement — a man in a simple black uniform, balancing a tray of champagne flutes.

 

He passed within arm’s reach, not looking at me. 

Not looking at Aeris. 

His blue eyes flickered once toward mine, then away.

Eryn.

MI'KAEL SERAPHANE — 24 HOURS EARLIER

“Your job’s simple,” Nero told him, “To blend in. You’ll be a waiter, you walk, serve and listen.”

“That’s it?” Eryn leaned back in his chair, unimpressed.

“Your role’s important, Eryn.” Nero replied, “You’ll be able to go to places they can’t. Keep your eyes on the floor, find Vantari but don’t engage.”

“Huh. What about you then?” Nero questioned.

“I’ll be your handler for this mission.” 

Nero pulled up a schematic of the Ballroom, revealing its structure. 

“I told you, didn't I? Rael Vantari is dangerous. He’d probably notice me instantly.”

“That’s why we’re using you Mi’kael. He worships Azrael like some Deity." added Nero. 

“Just make sure to cover that hand of yours, we can’t have you getting caught. Not now at least.”

ERYN MYRR

The tray wasn’t heavy, but the mask made breathing harder. 

That, and the suit jacket was a half-size too small — intentionally. 

No one suspects a staff member uncomfortable in his own clothes.

I wove between clusters of guests, stopping just long enough to offer a glass, smiling faintly, eyes always moving.

Mi’kael and Aeris were in position. 

Good.

Now, where was Vantari?

ERYN MYRR — 24 HOURS EARLIER

“That’s good and all… But how would I even spot the guy in the first place.” I questioned.

“Surprisingly enough, he's a man of refined tastes.” replied Nero.

“Flamboyant, over-confident and someone who believes in grace and style.” He added.

“Hm. You got all that just by meeting him once?” Mi’kael inquired.

“No. I tailed him for a bit and examined how he acted with the people around him.” Nero answered.

“What makes you so sure that it isn't some mask? That it’s his true self.” I cut in, still puzzled.

“Because.” said Nero, “Prideful people tend to not shy away from displaying their so-called glorious character traits.”

ERYN MYRR

Flamboyancy huh? 

Well if that’s the case, all I need to do is narrow down the people that stand out of the norm.

I passed near a group of four in the eastern alcove. 

One of them had the posture — relaxed but aware, the way dangerous men stand when they’re pretending to be harmless. 

His mask was obsidian black with faint crimson etching. 

Not on our list of confirmed patterns. 

Could be nothing. 

Could be him.

My comm head buzzed once— a signal from Aeris.

I didn’t look her way, but her voice was clear in my ear.

“East, check the second group.”

Got it. 

I moved.

AERIS CAELORA

Mi’kael played his role perfectly. 

To the point where even I almost thought that it was Azrael.

But I saw the way his eyes flicked over the crowd. 

Taking notes of exits, threats, places for cover.

I signalled Eryn to head to the east side and survey the groups there.

AERIS CAELORA — 24 HOURS EARLIER

“Your role is simpler Lady Aeris.” said Nero, “From previous meetings such as these, it’s evident an envoy of the Seraphane will probably be here.”

“If he spots you, that means he'll spot Mi’kael too. 

That means, whoever that envoy may be, could lead us to where Rael is at.” He added.

AERIS CAELORA

What a perfect coincidence.

Sometimes it’s scary how accurate Nero can be.

The moment our discussion from last night ran through my head, that ‘envoy’ appeared.

It wasn’t hard to notice. 

He passively had our eye on us, making sure to analyze us before making his move.

Now all I can do is leave it to Mi’kael.

MI'KAEL SERAPHANE

Aeris’s voice brushed against my ear.

“12 o’clock. The man in white — black owl mask.”

Her tone was steady, but the pressure of her hand told me enough.

The envoy’s presence was deliberate, a slow drift through the crowd that made it seem like the rest of the room was moving around him. 

His gaze cut through the masks and music as if neither existed.

“He’s the one, Mi’kael,” Aeris murmured. “Trust me.”

The envoy stopped two steps short of us and bowed, one hand to his chest.

“Greetings, my Lord.”

I let the silence stretch until the air between us tightened. Azrael would never rush to fill it.

Finally, I spoke.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I—” He faltered, the bow deepening. “Merely offering my respects.”

“In a room webbed with lies and deception?” My voice was calm, but the weight in it made him stiffen. “Where potential enemies and leeches circle like vultures?”

“My Lord, forgive me.” He straightened, but didn’t meet my eyes. “It was… ill-considered.”

“I did have one question,” the envoy continued, voice lower now, almost private.

“Speak.”

The envoy hesitated.

Then quietly—

“How many times did you lose against Mi’kael?”

The ballroom disappeared.

Just for a second.

I was back there again.

Training grounds.

Wooden swords.

Two stupid kids arguing over scores that changed every other week because neither of us could agree who won.

“That one doesn’t count.”

“You tripped!”

“You cheated!”

“Still won.”

We used to keep tally marks.

Compete over everything.

Who won more spars.

Who climbed higher.

Who got scolded less.

Like idiots.

Like brothers.

My fingers tightened beneath the gloves.

I looked at him.

“We’re even.”

The envoy’s shoulders relaxed.

A smile touched his lips.

“Then it really is you, my Lord.”

“Shall I escort you to Rael Vantari?” He added.

I adjusted the black-and-silver Colombina on my face, feeling the edges press against my skin — the mask, the lie, the weight.

“Lead the way.”

ERYN MYRR

The moment the envoy dipped his head and gestured for Mi’kael to follow, I knew the hunt had changed.

So much for drifting the floor and looking harmless.

I kept moving with my tray, circling toward the east side until I was behind them.

Not too close. 

Not too far.

Just another waiter delivering overpriced champagne to people pretending to be important.

The envoy’s white coat and black owl mask bobbed ahead through the crowd, flanked by Mi’kael and Aeris. 

The three of them cut a neat line through the chaos — easy enough to track if I didn’t screw it up.

One wrong move and the whole op’s dead.

I adjusted my grip on the tray, angling it so the glasses caught the light, giving me an excuse to glance around without looking like I was watching them. 

My feet found the same unhurried rhythm as the rest of the staff, but I couldn’t help but go over the plan in my head all over again.

ERYN MYRR — 24 HOURS EARLIER

“You’re not here just to serve drinks, Eryn,” Nero said, tapping the floor plan of the ballroom with a pen. 

“You’re our shadow.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Shadow sounds like a fancy word for ‘backup plan.’”

“That’s exactly what you are.”

“Gee, thanks. Really makes me feel important.”

Nero ignored me, tracing a route from the ballroom up to the mezzanine. 

“If Mi’kael gets taken to Vantari, you stay within tailing distance at all times. No confrontation. No talking unless they talk to you first. You’re there to track movement, feed me updates, and—”

“And bail them out if it all goes to hell,” I finished.

“Exactly. If we get compromised, your priority is getting them to one of these.” 

He tapped three small red Xs on the plan — discreet exits worked into the architecture. 

“Two lead into the lower service halls, one into a courtyard.”

“And if they’re all blocked?” I asked.

“Then you make a new door,” Nero said flatly.

Aeris had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not,” Nero replied. “We don’t get second chances with Vantari.”

ERYN MYRR

The envoy led them toward the main staircase at the far end of the ballroom. 

Two guards in ceremonial uniforms stood at the base, not moving to block them. 

That alone told me they’d been expected.

I dipped between guests, letting a group of masked nobles shield me from view as I closed the gap by a few paces.

The music swelled, laughter rose and fell, but beneath it all, I could hear the faint echo of my own breathing.

‘If the plan goes bad, you don’t run for the front door.’

I took a slow breath, eyes on the three figures ascending the stairs.

Alright man.