The administration building was the least interesting structure in the Capital.
That was on purpose.
Places that lasted didn't draw attention to themselves. The buildings that mattered learned to look like they didn't.
This one handled registrations, trial entries, group records — everything that actually kept the system running and it sat three streets off the main market like it didn't belong to anything important at all. It was made of grey stone with a plain door. One clerk behind the counter, head down, doing paperwork like he'd been doing it his entire life and expected to keep doing it forever.
Arie had spoken to him four days ago.
It wasn't anything obvious. Just timing and patience and the kind of conversation people forgot five minutes after it ended.
The clerk's name was Pell.
Pell liked to think he understood the landscape — which groups were stable, which ones weren't, who was worth recommending and who wasn't. He took that seriously. It mattered to him that he got it right.
He was good at it.
Arie had just… nudged things a little.
A casual mention. A group worth paying attention to with a solid record, good leadership. The one that had recently lost a member.
The kind of detail Pell wouldn't ignore.
Two days later, Arie sat across the street with a cup of tea that had already gone cold.
He had a clear view of the door.
Keisha walked in.
Right on time.
There she is.
He didn't move immediately.
He let her settle in. Let Pell do his job. Let the conversation reach the point where a recommendation would feel natural.
Then he finished the tea, stood up, and crossed the street.
The building smelled like paper and oil.
Pell looked up when he entered. Recognition came quick — the kind that came from someone who saw faces all day and filed them properly.
Keisha turned at the same time.
There it was again — that same sequence he'd seen before.
Not surprising. Not really.
She had been thinking about him.
"You."
"Me," Arie said easily.
Pell looked between them. "You know each other?"
"We've met."
Arie nodded toward Keisha, relaxed, open, exactly the way he always was. "Looking for a group?"
"I was just being told about one," she said. Still watching him. "Yours."
He glanced at Pell, just enough curiosity to feel real.
"You recommended us?"
Pell straightened a little. "Strong record. Good leadership. Recently lost a member." A pause. "Timing lines up."
"Convenient," Arie said.
Keisha didn't look away.
"How did the position open?"
Direct and with no hesitation.
Arie didn't change expression.
Didn't need to.
"We lost someone in the second trial," he said. Simple. No extra weight, no missing weight either. "Baro. He died in the brutal section." A small pause. "We've been figuring things out since."
He held her gaze.
"That's the opening."
Silence.
She studied him.
Not the words — the way he said them. What was there. What wasn't.
Testing.
Then she let it go.
For now.
"I'd want to meet the group."
"Of course."
"And I'm not deciding anything today."
"You shouldn't."
She glanced at Pell, at the form in front of her, then back at Arie.
"Your leader. Demi?"
"She handles strategy."
"That means she makes decisions."
"Most of them."
Another pause.
She was thinking about the street.About timing.
About how this looked.
Still not enough.
"Can I meet her now?"
"I can take you."
She hesitated but not for long.
"Alright."
Demi was exactly where she always was.
Corner table with a notebook open. Tea untouched.
She looked up the moment Arie stepped in.
Her eyes moved past him immediately.
To Keisha.
Quick read.
Fast and accurate.
"Demi," Arie said. "This is Keisha. She's looking for a group."
A small pause.
"She's worth talking to."
Demi closed the notebook.
"Sit."
Keisha sat.
The questions started immediately.
Neither aggressive nor friendly.
Just… precise.
Questions about trial history, combat experience, group coordination and awareness.
Keisha answered carefully.
There was hesitation at the start of each answer — not weakness, just someone choosing her words properly — and then clarity once she committed.
"Your ability is amplification," Demi said.
Not a question.
Keisha nodded. "Yes."
"How far can you push it?"
"Not far. Not yet." A pause. "Short bursts. Physical enhancement mostly."
"How short?"
"Depends on output."
Demi wrote something.
Didn't look up.
"Ceiling?"
"I don't know."
Demi finally looked at her.
"You haven't tested it, or you can't?"
A small pause.
Then—
"Both," Keisha said. Then quieter, but steadier, "But it's higher than what I've shown."
Demi held her gaze.
Wrote again.
Arie sat back and watched.
She's better than she looks.
She knows that.
Just not how far it goes yet.
Rosh came down halfway through.
Looked at the table. Took in the situation in about a second. Pulled a chair over like it was nothing unusual.
"Rosh," he said, like introductions didn't need effort.
Keisha relaxed a little.
Not much.
Just enough.
Spectre didn't show.
"Fifth member?" she asked.
"He'll appear when he wants to," Arie said.
She accepted that.
Filed it away.
At the end, Demi closed the notebook.
Looked at Keisha properly this time.
"You're usable," she said. "Your ability has room to grow. You think clearly." A pause. "We'll do a trial run before anything permanent."
"That's fine."
"Tomorrow."
Keisha nodded.
Stood up.
At the door, she stopped.
Turned back.
"The one you lost," she said. "Baro."
A beat.
"Was he good?"
The table went quiet.
Rosh looked down.
Demi didn't move.
"Yes," Arie said.
"He was."
Keisha nodded once.
Something real there.
Then she left.
The door closed.
Rosh exhaled slowly.
Demi opened her notebook again but didn't write.
The room went back to normal around them.
Like nothing had happened.
Arie watched the door for a second longer.
Then leaned back.
He already knew how tomorrow would go.
Two days had been enough.
It always was.
What he hadn't accounted for—
Demi wasn't writing.
She was just… looking at the page.
Still.
Focused.
That kind of stillness meant something.
Arie glanced at the notebook.
He could see the page clearly.
One word.
Small.
Precise.
His name.
With a question mark.