No heroic deeds!

CONFERENCE ROOM

Inside—a long table, a wall-sized painting of a chessboard mid-game and a dozen empty chairs. A map of Jarathia lies unrolled.

Mersa gestures. “Beatrix, the miasma—here’s all the information you need.”

Beatrix takes a seat, posture crisp despite the fatigue. “You’re the one in command now, then?”

“I want the forest and surroundings evacuated,” Mersa says, tapping the locations on the map, “and the humans in the Outskirts with them.”

“I can help.” Nine begins.

“Yes, we can help!” Hanla agrees.

Mersa lifts a hand, sighing. “You two will rest. The best doctors will see you. As much rest as possible.” He repeats, firmer this time. “You’re far beyond S-rank—and right now, you’re our only hope. We… messed up Jarathia.”

Hanla meets the grief in his eyes.

Nine nods. “Understood.”

Mersa folds up the map, decision made. “Go. We’ll brief you later.”

Beatrix rises with them. “I’ll need every detail.”

In the doorway, Nine touches Hanla’s shoulder. “We’ll do our part, right?”

Hanla nods, a small fierce smile breaking through the exhaustion. “Right.”

They leave the room.

The corridor outside the conference room hums with low voices and frayed nerves. Tyreese, Avort, and Jenna stand at the front of the crowd—which includes half the city’s merchants, by the looks of it—their faces pinched, ledgers clutched like shields.

“It’s quite a lot. Merchants, I mean.” Hanla murmurs.

“Ohh, don’t worry. Everything is part of his plan.” Jenna says, her tired smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Behind them, Sunthia stands, catching Nine’s and Hanla’s eyes and flashing them a small, fierce grin.

Tyreese raps his knuckles on the door. “Mersa?”

“Come in—" Mersa calls back. “But if anyone talks about stupid things from the past, I’m gonna unload five years of prison on all of you.”

Tyreese laughs and swings the door wide open.

Everyone heads inside the conference room. Sunthia moves in front of Hanla and Nine, planting herself squarely in their path.

“I got a task too.” She says, jaw set. “I hate it. I’d rather be out on a battlefield…”

“Oh?” Hanla tilts her head. “Really?”

“Can we help you with it?” Nine asks.

“Yes. Please help me.” Sunthia’s eyes harden. “Because YOU TWO are my assignments. You’re wounded, and we don’t know when the seal will break. So—no heroics! Trust the adventurers to handle it. Let them work and rest up!”

Nine exhales. “Fine. But if they die—”

Sunthia rises on tiptoes and presses a finger to his lips. “Shhh. No heroic deeds!”

Hanla opens her mouth. “But I—”

“Same for you!” Sunthia snaps, then softens. “That’s an order.”

Hanla sighs. “Maybe… we could do something together, then?”

Nine glances to Sunthia, who nods. “Sure.”

They step aside as the briefing begins.