Whispers of Unrest
The Intelligence Analysis Department was buried deep underground in the Lumen Guard Management Bureau building, true to their motto of working in the shadows while pursuing the light. Endless streams of data poured in without cease, and vast surveillance feeds were analyzed in real time. Even the murmur of voices was kept to a hushed minimum. It felt like a colorless void.
They didn't need to bother with bright overhead lights; the countless hologram windows already cast more than enough glow.
The moment Phenex and Kyle arrived, they headed straight for the massive spherical information network at the center. It was the same Aria aggregate as the one in the Science and Technology Division, but with different objectives, this version spewed out far more hologram windows—like a blazing sun.
Phenex Cristel slowly traced his finger over the sun-like sphere. With practiced motions, a hologram operations map and a dense array of information screens rose up around him.
As always, Kyle Walker found the colossal light mass enviably magnificent. For a former ordinary college student like him, accessing this trove—once reserved for heads of state—never failed to bring a fresh thrill.
"The protests inside the Rain Code barrier are escalating faster than predicted, now that the Lildar Church has gotten involved."
Phenex's expression was as relaxed as ever, his fingers handling precise metrics without a flicker of hesitation. Kyle, standing opposite with his eyes still fixed on the sphere, replied.
"Public sentiment's only going to get rougher. Religion's like an uncompromising, stubborn faith, after all."
Kyle's voice grated like rough metal, delivered with the finality of stating an absolute truth. Phenex's eye widened slightly, peering at him with intrigue through the narrow gap.
Kyle Walker, barely twenty. Sharp analytical skills beyond his years, a subtle hunger for power, and a ruthlessness fitting his manic curiosity. More than usable, Phenex thought. That was one reason he'd assigned someone so combat-oriented to Intelligence Analysis.
"Right you are, Walker. A half-expected outcome. Identity suppression plus resource imbalance—a time bomb combo."
Kyle finally tore his gaze from the sphere to meet Phenex's eyes, as if irked by the scrutiny.
"This kind of collision wasn't what we wanted."
Phenex steepled his fingers, looking ready to burst into laughter.
"Indeed. It was just meant to cull the herd. But now it's turned into ethnic strife."
Kyle looked away.
"So, who's benefiting from this mess?"
"Hmm, who knows? I certainly don't."
No sooner had Phenex's nonchalant reply ended than Kyle scowled and pressed.
"The Grand Marshal?"
Phenex paused thoughtfully. The Intelligence Analysis Department scrutinized every potential threat without fail—proxies or not. Even the Grand Marshal himself.
The Grand Marshal obsessed over barrier stability to an extreme degree, even voicing it in meetings. 'If you've got time to suspect the inside, worry about the Dists outside instead.'
Phenex smiled faintly. It wasn't the rhetoric of a power-clinging politician. His tone allowed no disorder, exuding total control.
The protests' escalation brought the Grand Marshal no gain. It was beyond even their predictions—hardly "under control."
Like he's weathered this sort of thing once or twice before. To Phenex, the Grand Marshal was a fascinating figure: immense power, yet desires aimed elsewhere, a noble purity. How does he manage that? Utterly incomprehensible.
"Doesn't look like the Grand Marshal gains anything from this."
"True. He's fanatically devoted to stabilizing inside the barriers."
Phenex's thoughts drifted to the Guard Corps—his separately operated organization. Toss them in, and these protests would be quashed in no time. Like in Nantigar.
But this was different. Unlike the "insurrection operation" where Intelligence had cooperated, Rain Code lacked pliable provisional governments or glaring conflict sparks to exploit. And with Aria in play, controlling information like before was impossible.
Guard Corps. Digging into them might turn up something fun.
Phenex masked his scheming with a topic shift.
"The department director seems to be putting in effort via back channels. Probably."
His voice stayed silky, but the intent clearly belittled the man. Competent once, sure—but corrupted by power. Rain Code's Intelligence Analysis was uncooperative with Lumen Guard's main branch. Not confirmed, but Phenex suspected the director's involvement from fragmented intel.
"Probably connected to Rain Code's Intelligence Analysis, right?"
Phenex's eyes widened slightly, a mix of pride and mystical awe at the proxy's quick wits. Impressive deduction for someone just hitting their twenties.
"Oh? You think so?"
Kyle glanced at Phenex's inscrutable face before looking away. For a man in his mid-thirties, he felt like a century-old serpent.
"Just a hunch. Anyway, if this keeps up, real clashes are coming. No guarantee it won't end like Nantigar."
"Then we should send agents to the scene first, no?"
"Damn it, you're planning to send me out in the field."
Kyle's dark circles seemed to deepen, prompting Phenex to laugh aloud.
"You're a proxy too. If the nation calls, we run like dogs."
"Can I bite you?"
"Secure order inside the barriers first, then I'll beg you."
Phenex gazed slowly at the Aria sphere. The Grand Marshal and Guard Corps. Rain Code's Intelligence Analysis. Director Remar letting it fester. Factions accelerating ethnic tensions.
He whistled a tune. Kyle eyed him, frowning.
"You scare me sometimes—like a madman."
"Never at a loss for words, Captain Kyle. I'm the deputy director, you know."
Phenex mock-pouted awkwardly.
"Enough. Skip the childish act."
"Hahaha—fine. Oh, I recommend getting close to Brigadier General Jack's kid this time."
"The general's kid? Not his blood, though."
Phenex nodded, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. Always at the center of the petty power plays between Jack and the Grand Marshal. Phenex couldn't fathom it, but the kid clearly held their attention.
"Blood aside. You think he's investing troops in Combat Response just for some proxy?"
Kyle shot back swiftly.
"The brigadier's far from politics. No need to worry."
"The holier-than-thou wolves demand the most caution."
Kyle grimaced at Phenex's sly grin and turned away.
Bell let out a short sigh as she walked the corridor. Her long vacation was finally over. She'd rested plenty, but seeing Sophie strain herself on her account was grating.
Sophie's constant presence had helped crack open Bell's guarded heart bit by bit. She hadn't talked much with Brigadier General Jack, though.
For a moment, Bell wondered if she'd misplaced her self-loathing. That absurd errand... but the bread had been delicious. It embarrassed her that their tastes aligned.
Sophie was swamped handling backlog with the general right now, but for Bell, the positive impact made it worthwhile.
My communicator's gonna blow up now.
Bell stared at her wrist terminal. Before it could erupt, she headed to the Strategy Planning Department, steeling herself for what lay ahead.
Stepping in, the first thing she saw was Isabelle slumped over her desk. Unlike Bell, she still hadn't shaken off the shock.
Bell turned to Lena Hile, who was neatly filing documents, hesitated, then spoke.
"Hi."
Lena turned at the soft voice. Spotting Bell, her eyes widened briefly in surprise before she composed herself with a calm welcome.
"Captain Bell. Long time no see."
The short greeting carried layers of emotion. Around Sophie's age, Lena kept in touch with her and knew about the vacation. She'd been skeptical at first, but seeing the girl pushing forward again stirred something warm—like witnessing it firsthand.
Bell, still awkward, avoided eye contact.
"I wanted to know about upcoming missions."
Lena smiled, tapping her desk twice. Holograms floated up, and she explained deftly.
"Policy's shifted since that incident. No preemptive proxy deployments—regular army or mercenaries first, proxies only if absolutely needed. Mercenary pay and integration costs have spiked too."
Bell nodded quietly, listening intently. Lena was struck by the change; the old Bell would've just nodded and left. It felt novel that she was actually engaging now. Perhaps that's why Lena explained with extra care, like lecturing a promising student.
"So no proxies for minor ops anymore. Like that church arrest support in Valhalla Disk back then."
"Sounds leisurely."
Bell's unexpected remark drew a nod.
"Yeah, more personal time than before. But there's one potential deployment coming up soon."
Lena pulled up another window: Rain Code barrier protests. Escalating fast, situation graph deteriorating rapidly.
"Protests in Rain Code are heating up. Not enough regular troops for response, and only one proxy on site—two if you count the retiree."
Bell flinched at "protests." Lena caught it and added quickly.
"Not about sending proxies for suppression, don't worry. This is just escorting field investigators."
Bell nodded slowly, but unease flickered. Escort meant fighting back if attacked, no matter the differences from that time. Memories she hated resurfaced. She took a sharp breath, steadying herself.
Deep scars lingered: Stephan, Ri Siarin, all the faces she'd passed. She refused to trap herself in that vicious cycle of lingering regrets breeding more.
Bell nodded silently for a moment, then hesitantly murmured.
"Thanks... for explaining."
Lena smiled like a pleased professor and nodded back.
As Bell turned to leave, she paused at Isabelle's listless form.
"...It's about that incident."
Lena whispered. After a brief internal debate, Bell left quietly.
"Hang in there."
Isabelle's head snapped up in shock. Her wide eyes trembled, rims reddening. The petite silver-haired girl stood vivid before her. Bell speaking to her—and words of comfort, no less—was a staggering first.
Overwhelmed, Isabelle shot to her feet and strode toward her.
"Isabelle?"
"Uh, um..."
Bell and Lena spoke in unison, flustered. Isabelle halted, hesitating as if second-guessing.
She gazed at Bell carefully, like seeking permission.
"Can I... hug you?"
Bell froze. Bewilderment crossed her face; normally, she'd refuse sharply. But those teary eyes... she faltered.
"Go ahead."
Like cutting a comms line, Bell shut down her thoughts—becoming a doll, just for a moment.
Isabelle lunged, wrapping the dazed Bell in a tight embrace. Bell stood rigidly, statue-still.
"You've been through so much, Captain. Going to the scene yourself... thank you, truly."
Bell said nothing. But her shoulders relaxed a fraction.
Later, Lena gently pried Isabelle away.
"Isabelle, wash up and rest. Your face is all puffy."
Isabelle's arms loosened carefully. Lighter now, she bowed deeply to Bell and hurried to the bathroom.
Lena watched with approval.
"Heard Combat Response got a big personnel boost. Congrats."
Bell remained stiff, mind reeling: What just happened? I let her hug me...? Frozen expressionless.
A strange, indescribable discomfort washed over her like a wave.
"Even Lieutenant Adolf Mandel from your training is assigned there."
Bell's eyelids fluttered slowly. Silence deepened on her blank face. Then, disbelievingly, she turned her head at a glacial pace.
"...Who?"
The Combat Response door slid open, silver hair bursting in. Kelun, already there, jumped up to salute.
"Welcome, Captain."
The seating had changed to a D-shaped layout centered on Bell.
Bell ignored the greeting, eyes locking on one spot: a hologram nameplate hovering.
"Ughhh."
Kelun nearly jumped out of his skin at Bell's weird groan the instant she arrived. She pressed her forehead, sighing softly.
Shed suspected, but facing reality hit different.