The elevator kept climbing.
The floors ticked by.
Twenty-four.
Twenty-five.
Twenty-six.
Twenty-seven.
Ding.
The doors slid open onto a hallway with dark wood-paneled walls, lit by old-fashioned wall sconces.
Mara stepped out first, back rigid, hands clasped behind her. Elias trailed after her, shuffling slightly, hands in his pockets.
The man in the gray suit led them to a massive oak double door emblazoned with the Association's crest. He knocked three measured knocks.
"Enter," came a deep voice from inside.
The doors opened.
The High Commander's office was exactly what you'd expect from someone of his rank: vast, austere, imposing. Bookshelves lined two full walls. A huge panoramic window looked straight down over the city. At the center sat a dark mahogany desk—almost comically oversized.
But what grabbed Elias's attention were the people already in the room.
Charlotte Vanpelt stood by the window, hands clasped behind her back, staring out at the city. She turned her head just enough to acknowledge them with a small nod.
Borin was sprawled in one of the black leather armchairs facing the desk, legs crossed, looking perfectly at ease. He flashed Elias a wolfish grin.
Aris stood near a low coffee table, tablet in hand. He glanced up briefly, then went back to his screen.
The High Commander's chair was empty.
"The High Commander's late," Borin muttered without turning around. "It's an insult."
"The High Commander has responsibilities that extend beyond your personal schedule, Captain Borin. He'll arrive when he arrives."
"Where's Commander Haggrave?" Vanpelt asked, directing the question to Aris as well. "He was supposed to be here."
"Commander Haggrave was detained by urgent business. A personal assignment from the High Commander himself—directly tied to the matter we're about to discuss."
Borin's bushy brows knitted together. "Personal assignment? What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, Captain, that he isn't here."
Elias, meanwhile, had already crossed the room and dropped onto the second sofa with an audible sigh. He closed his eyes.
"Don't you think standing would be more appropriate, Mercer?" Vanpelt said.
"No," Elias answered without opening his eyes. "Climbing twenty-seven floors was enough cardio for one day."
Mara glared daggers at him.
He shrugged. "What?"
Before she could reply, the doors opened again.
Lord Alistair Crane entered with deliberate steps, pristine white uniform, black leather gloves. But he wasn't alone.
Two men followed.
First: Kazimir Volkov. The Russian Hunter.
Second: Jin-Soo Park. The Korean Hunter.
Alistair Crane circled behind his desk, rested his gloved hands on the back of his chair, but didn't sit.
"My apologies for the delay," he said simply. "Certain guests require… diplomatic arrangements."
Kazimir smiled. "Britania makes trouble for itself by inviting Russia to the table, Lord Crane. You know that."
Alistair didn't blink. "The Crown understands and has approved my initiative. Politics and economics are separate from Hunter affairs."
He straightened a fraction. "Besides, Britania is no longer in the European Union. The presence of Russia and South Korea here fits perfectly with what we're about to discuss."
Jin-Soo Park said nothing. He simply clasped his hands behind his back and fixed his stare on Alistair.
Elias opened his mouth. "All this buildup for what was supposed to be a simple medal ceremony. Feels like the opening of a bad spy thriller where everyone dies in the end except the—"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to look at Mara to feel the murderous aura rolling off her—cold and razor-sharp, almost tangible in the air. He shut his mouth, gave a tiny shrug, and pretended to study the ceiling.
Crane ignored the interruption—or had already filed it under irrelevant. "The Greenbridge Forest incident was not a simple S-Rift. Data recovered by cleanup teams, residual energy analysis, and… the captains' accounts have required a full reevaluation."
He gestured toward Aris. "Vice-Commander Merrick, if you would."
Aris straightened, stepped forward with his tablet.
He swiped the screen, then looked up.
"Ladies and gentlemen. It's official. The Greenbridge Forest Rift has been reclassified as SS-rank."
Borin sat bolt upright, a huge grin spreading across his face.
Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment.
Elias tilted his head back, shut his eyes, and murmured:
"Oh, what a shock."
Aris continued, unfazed.
"Post-intervention analysis confirmed residual dimensional energy consistent with SS-class thresholds. The Boss neutralized by Captain Borin was indeed an SS-level Nemesis."
Borin let out a short, rough laugh.
"I knew it." He leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. "From the first clash, it felt heavier than it should have."
His grin widened. "But in the end, just another trophy on the wall. SS or not, it's dead."
Charlotte turned slowly toward him. "You didn't walk away unscathed, Captain Borin."
She let the silence hang. "Three cracked ribs, one shoulder half-destroyed, both arms severed, temporary ether flow disruption. Hardly a flawless victory. You've got nothing to gloat about."
Borin's smile froze. His jaw clenched.
His fists tightened; the leather armchair creaked under the pressure.
"It wasn't the Boss that did that to me," he growled.
He locked eyes with Elias. "Mercer, tell them."
Elias opened one eye, then the other. He tilted his head.
"I don't testify for people who welch on their debts."
Borin's fists clenched harder. "You little—"
Aris raised a hand before he could finish.
"No need. We believe you, Captain Borin."
He flicked a quick glance at Crane. "And that's exactly why we're here."
Kazimir Volkov gave a small, amused chuckle. His pale gaze shifted from Borin to Elias.
"Running into one of those… and walking away alive."
His smile stretched. "Impressive. Especially for a country on its first SS Rift."
Borin snapped his head toward him.
"And who the hell do you think you are?"
"Enough."
Lord Alistair Crane's voice fell like a guillotine.
"We are not here to stroke egos," he said calmly. "Or settle personal scores."
He drew a slow breath. "What you faced at Greenbridge—and what injured you—is precisely what concerns us all."
Jin-Soo Park spoke for the first time.
"The individual you encountered. It was an Apostle. A member of a criminal raider organization that enjoys opening Rifts."
"An Apostle?" Charlotte repeated, frowning. "To start with, Captain Mercer never mentioned that in his report."
All eyes turned to Elias.
Still sprawled in his armchair, he opened one eye.
"Ah, must've slipped my mind…"
Mara rubbed her forehead.
Alistair Crane fixed his gaze on him.
"Captain Mercer, did you deliberately omit critical intelligence from a mission report?"
Elias didn't answer.
Borin turned toward him, brows furrowed. "You working with them?"
Elias shrugged. "Is that any way to thank the guy who saved your life, Borin?"
"Shut it! I was just drained from fighting the boss—otherwise I wouldn't have needed your help."
Elias didn't reply right away. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back.
"I doubt that."
Borin shot out of his chair, fists balled. "What exactly are you saying?"
"That you'd be dead without me."
"Captain." Aris's voice was ice. "This is not the time or place."
Elias shrugged and went quiet.
Alistair laid his gloved hands flat on the desk. "Back to the point. Captain Mercer, why did you leave that information out of your report?"
Elias sat up a little, arms crossed. "Because it smelled like trouble. And I was right."