Realmshift: Triad Ascendancy.

Monstrosity.

[GREY]

Four days had passed since our arrival at Jeremiah Falcon's mansion, and, for the most part, everything seemed ordinary—except for one peculiar detail. Jeremiah himself was an enigma.

 Every night, without fail, he would leave the house between 7 p.m. and 1 a.m., adhering to this curious routine with unwavering dedication. The consistency of it only heightened our suspicions.

Whenever we broached the subject, Jeremiah would dismiss us with a curt response, reminding us of our purpose. We weren't here to pry into his life, he'd insist, but to ensure his safety.

 Reluctantly, we accepted his terms, choosing not to press further. After all, investigating him wasn't part of our mission. And surely, if Jeremiah Falcon was a man of questionable character, the Headmaster wouldn't have tasked us with protecting him... would he?

"God, our job is almost done here, and nothing's happened. Were the death threats some kind of prank or what?" Arkane groaned, slumping into her chair.

"Yeah, it's getting pretty boring," I replied with a shrug.

Across the room, Beatrice and Silver shot us matching looks of disbelief. "You want something to happen?" they asked in unison, their voices tinged with exasperation.

We just laughed, unbothered by their concern, and the day carried on as usual.

It wasn't until lunchtime—right around the time Jeremiah usually disappeared—that something finally caught our attention.

"Hey, guys, check this out," Silver called, motioning us over to a corner of the room.

"What is it?" I asked, joining him along with the others.

Silver smirked, holding up a slim stack of papers. "I, uh... accidentally-not-accidentally scanned this room using Savant's Insight. And look what I found."

Silver handed us the files, his smirk tinged with a mix of triumph and mischief. As I flipped through the pages, my heart sank. Jeremiah wasn't just a peculiar man with a suspicious schedule—he was a criminal, running an underground slave trading operation under the alias Dave Miller. The details were chilling: transactions, lists of names, and locations of trafficking hubs. This wasn't just dangerous; it was monstrous.

"This is insane," I muttered, struggling to process the words on the pages. "How the hell did you even find these?"

Silver's grin widened. "Oh, he tried really hard to keep them hidden. These weren't just stuffed in a drawer somewhere. The files were tucked behind a false panel in the wall, buried under layers of protective enchantments. There was a concealment spell to keep it from being found, a ward to misdirect anyone searching in the area, and a nasty explosion spell as a failsafe for anyone who got too close. Pretty clever, honestly." He leaned against the wall, clearly pleased with himself. "But thanks to Savant's Insight, it was like taking candy from a baby. Found them without triggering a thing."

"A slave trader," Arkane said, her voice dripping with disgust as she stared at the incriminating documents. "That's what we've been protecting this whole time?"

I nodded, still in disbelief. "How could the Headmaster not know about this? It doesn't add up. Did he really send us here without doing a proper background check?" I looked up, desperate for answers, but before anyone could respond, I noticed Beatrice.

Her face had grown pale, her expression darker with every passing second. Her hand trembled slightly as she stood there, lost in thought. I reached out, my voice lowering to a whisper. "Beatrice? Are you okay?"

She flinched at the sound of her name but quickly composed herself. "Yes, I'm... fine," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Just a bit tired, that's all. Don't worry about me."