Within the Eye

Chapter 9

The stillness in my office was broken only by the soft hum of the data stream feeding in from the various departments. I let my eyes drift across the glassy surface of the tablet before me, but the words and figures no longer held meaning. My mind, previously locked in a frenzy of high-intensity focus, had finally unravelled.

The loose ends of Project Harbour, which had taunted me for hours, began to drift apart in my mind. Every knot I tied, every smooth transition I envisioned—each was essential, yet none were permanent. There would always be more threads, more tangles, and more variables to address. Always something.

I blinked, allowing my focus to fade, letting myself get lost in the gaps between thought and clarity.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, caught in the soft haze of my detachment, when the door to my office opened.

"Asa," I murmured, not needing to turn my head to know it was him. His steps were always steady, the sound as familiar to me as the ticking of a clock.

He closed the door quietly behind him, his face kind but guarded. His expression, always one of tempered concern, made me want to return to my work immediately, but I found that I couldn't muster the energy. Instead, I watched him as he approached my desk.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Asa said, though the apology lacked weight. His pale eyes studied me intently, and for a moment I wondered if he had noticed my lapse in focus.

"No apology necessary," I replied evenly, returning to my usual sharp demeanour. "You wouldn't be here unless there was something worth interrupting me for."

Asa gave a small, soft chuckle. "True. But I wanted to say..." He paused, his voice lowering as if he wasn't entirely sure how to phrase the next part. "I admire the dedication you have for our work. It isn't easy, and most wouldn't even notice how much of it falls on you. Whether you realize it or not, you're the cross frame that holds everything together."

I raised an eyebrow, processing his words with detached curiosity. Asa always had a way of wrapping his intentions in compliments, making it hard to decipher where one ended and the other began. He reminded me of Maximillion in that regard.

His kindness felt out of place, like a poorly concealed mechanism in an otherwise flawless machine.

"Thank you, Asa," I replied, the words sounding hollow even to me. "But I assume you didn't come here for idle praise."

He smiled, though his eyes were serious. "You know me too well."

I leaned back in my chair, a slight tilt of my head encouraging him to get to the point.

"I need you to deliver an updated verbal report to General Vinzen Tag at the Paladin Order headquarters," Asa said, his tone dropping to one of strict professionalism. "No files. No data transfer. Just you. Project Harbour is highly sensitive, and I know you're the only one who understands it deeply enough to convey the intricacies with the accuracy required."

I studied his face, but there was nothing hidden there. He trusted me, and though his words had been framed as a request, I knew it was an order. One I couldn't refuse.

"Understood," I said. There was no point in arguing. I had my role to play. "I'll leave immediately."

The chauffeured vehicle was waiting for me at the Institute's exit, the sleek black sedan barely making a sound as I approached. The Paladin Order spared no expense on discretion or efficiency, it seemed. I slid into the back seat, nodding curtly at the driver. He acknowledged me with a brief nod of his own but remained silent.

It wasn't long before the gentle hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the ride began to lull me into a drowsy haze. My body, already worn from the long hours of focus and tension, succumbed to the cocktail of fatigue and the lingering effects of my second Casting.

I closed my eyes, feeling the heaviness descend.

"Director."

The driver's voice broke through the fog in my mind, and my eyes fluttered open. I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep.

"We've arrived," he said, glancing back at me through the rearview mirror.

I straightened in my seat, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. "Thank you," I murmured, smoothing the creases in my uniform.

As I stepped out of the car, I paused briefly, looking back at the driver. "And thank you for your discretion," I added. "I appreciate the silence."

The driver gave me a small, respectful nod, though his expression remained unreadable.

The Paladin Order Headquarters loomed ahead, its imposing structure a stark contrast to the more understated elegance of the Cross Institute. The corridors inside were equally imposing, as though the building itself was built to reinforce the weight of responsibility on those who walked its halls.

As I entered the lobby, the familiar face of Cheshire greeted me at the reception desk, her golden curls bobbing slightly as she spotted me.

"Director Pandora," she said, her smile wide and just a touch too friendly. "What a surprise. I didn't expect to see you here today."

"General Tag is expecting me," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

"I'll escort you," Cheshire offered, standing and motioning toward the elevators. Her voice was light and conversational, but there was something behind her words, a slight tension I couldn't ignore.

As the elevator doors closed behind us, Cheshire attempted to make small talk. "It must be quite an honour to be given such important assignments. I heard Institute business is highly classified... and very challenging. It must be important if a Director needed to come in person."

Her tone was friendly, but I sensed something off in the way she said it. Was it envy? Or was it something more complex, something she wasn't even fully aware of herself?

I didn't respond to her attempts at conversation, instead offering a vague, non-committal smile. Whatever Cheshire felt toward me, I wasn't interested in drawing it out. She could harbour her thoughts in silence.

The elevator arrived at its destination with a soft chime. As I stepped out, I glanced back just in time to see Cheshire watching me. Her expression was carefully neutral, but her eyes held a glint of something that felt too familiar—something sharp, almost resentful.

I turned away as the elevator doors slid shut behind me, leaving Cheshire with whatever thoughts lingered beneath her composed exterior.

I stood outside the door to General Tag's office, waiting for his word to enter. The familiar quiet of the Paladin Order felt weighty, as though the air itself was dense with unseen expectations.

And yet, as I stood there, I couldn't shake the feeling that the expectations pressing down on me were my own.

I had to get this right.