A NEW DAY

We were summoned to the headmaster’s office.

Orion sat behind his desk, tea steaming in front of him as though nothing in the world could faze him. Professor Aira stood at his side, holding a stack of reports that looked far too thick for comfort.

“Quite the night,” Orion said mildly — as if we hadn’t just fought off a small army.

“They were framing the Silver Claw,” I said, leaning against the desk. “Trying to paint Beastfolk as terrorists. It would’ve worked if we hadn’t been there.”

Orion nodded slowly. “And you have my thanks for preventing what could have been a massacre.”

Professor Aira glanced up from the reports. “Normally, this much property damage would earn you all a month’s worth of detentions.”

Orion smiled faintly. “But considering the circumstances… I think we can call this a success.”

I exhaled in relief. No punishment this time. We were getting off with nothing more than bruises — and maybe a few stern looks.

As we turned to leave, Orion’s scroll buzzed. He glanced at it — and his expression darkened.

The Queen has awakened.

The next morning, the smell of pancakes woke me.

The smell of pancakes woke me.

I dragged myself out of bed, every muscle aching like I’d been run over by a freight train, and padded into the kitchen.

Taiga was at the stove, flipping pancakes with surprising grace — his hair still messy from sleep and a smear of flour across one cheek. Evelyne was beside him, slicing fruit with military precision, arranging them in perfect little fan shapes on a plate. Jeanne leaned casually against the counter, arms folded, smirking like she owned the place.

Lyra sat at the table, her bandages peeking from under her shirt, a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. Her golden eyes softened when she saw me.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jeanne said, not even trying to hide the smugness in her tone. “Took you long enough. We figured we earned a celebration breakfast.”

Taiga grinned, proudly holding up a perfectly golden pancake. “And we didn’t burn anything this time!”

“That’s debatable,” Evelyne said dryly, though there was a faint curve at the corner of her mouth. “You nearly set the first batch on fire.”

“Keyword: nearly,” Taiga shot back, sticking his tongue out.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Let me guess — same disaster as yesterday?”

Jeanne nodded

I sat down at the table, letting the warmth of the room and the smell of food wash over me. Lyra slid the teapot toward me, and I poured myself a cup, watching the steam curl into the air.

It felt…like a dream that I once have.

Lyra caught me staring and tilted her head. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Just… this is nice.”

Taiga plopped a plate of pancakes in front of me. “Get used to it, buddy. We’re making this a thing.”

“Not every day,” Evelyne said quickly. “This kitchen is not a war zone.”

“Breakfast diplomacy!” Taiga declared dramatically. “Nothing builds team spirit like carbs.”

Jeanne rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

I took a bite, and for the first time in what felt like forever, my chest didn’t feel so heavy. No mission waiting, no enemies at the gate. Just friends, food, and a quiet morning.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the lazy rays of sunlight spilling through the window. “I think I could get used to this new life,” I murmured.

For a while, we just ate together, trading small jokes and quiet laughter. And for once, the world felt safe — even if just for a little while.

Elsewhere, Far below the city, Silas and Alice crawled out of the twisted wreckage of the downed helicopter with a handful of surviving thugs. Their clothes were torn, blood dried on their faces.

They staggered into what looked like an abandoned train station — only to find themselves surrounded.

Figures in black armor emerged from the shadows, their visors gleaming with the glow of red optics, their emblem — a sword and serpent.

“Well, well,” a cold voice drawled from the darkness. “You’ve made quite the mess of the Silver Claw… and handed the Beastfolk the reputation we wanted.”

Silas said nothing, jaw clenched, his grip tightening on his cane as he instinctively stepped in front of Alice.

One of the armored soldiers stepped forward. “Should we kill them sir?”

Bootsteps echoed against the concrete as a tall man strode into the faint light.

The man said. “And waste perfectly good pawns?”

He stopped just short of Silas, looking down at him with something like amusement.

The man’s name rolled off his tongue.

“Ardan Vulkrone.”

Silas’s grin returned, sharp and dangerous.

“Then I guess we’re in business.”