Veil of the forsaken.

"Veil."

The blonde girl stayed seated in the empty trial room, her hands resting on her knees as her breathing steadied. Lady's words still echoed faintly in her mind, stirring something she couldn't quite name. The way she carried herself, the way she spoke—it felt... different. Purposeful. Not like the others she'd met. Not like the woman who had slapped her into obedience.

Shaking her head, the girl rose to her feet, the faint creak of the chair breaking the silence. She wasn't here to reflect on others—she had a mission, one that required focus. The gauntlets strapped to her hands still hummed faintly from use, and she flexed her fingers, feeling the weight of the tools she'd come to rely on.

The halls of the hideout were quieter now as she made her way through them, her footsteps muffled against the polished floors. She passed by a few stragglers—some with expressions of disappointment, others quietly celebrating their success. It didn't matter. None of it did. Her path was set, and there was no turning back.

As she rounded a corner, she found herself outside the communal lounge area. Through the wide archway, she could see Lady again, this time standing near a table with Sei-do, Arlos, and Mugsi. They were deep in conversation, their post-trial debrief filling the room with low voices and the occasional laugh from Mugsi. Lady stood slightly apart from the others, her arms folded, listening intently as Sei-do recounted something with sharp gestures.

The blonde girl lingered by the wall, half-hidden in the shadows. She couldn't explain why she didn't walk away or why her gaze stayed fixed on Lady. Maybe it was the calmness she exuded, or the way even in casual conversation, she seemed untouchable, as though nothing could disturb her poised exterior.

But there was more to it than that. There always was. The girl's instincts told her Lady wasn't just admired for her elegance or skill. It was something deeper, something people didn't say aloud but felt in her presence. The way Sei-do leaned closer when speaking, the way Arlos's usually relaxed posture straightened slightly when addressing her—it all pointed to an unspoken understanding that Lady was more than just a leader. She was a force.

Lady turned slightly, her ice-blue eyes scanning the room, and for a moment, they locked onto the girl standing in the hall. It wasn't a sharp look, nor was it an invitation. It was simply acknowledgment—a brief glance that made the girl feel both exposed and understood in the same breath.

The girl turned away quickly, her jaw tightening as she forced herself to keep moving. Whatever that moment had been, it didn't matter. She wasn't here for connections or admiration. Her goal was clear, and distractions—even ones as compelling as Lady—were a luxury she couldn't afford.

As she walked away, her pace quickened, determination settling in her chest once more. She'd passed the trial. She was in. Now, it was only a matter of time before she got what she needed.

Lady approached with her signature poise, her ice-blue eyes steady as they glanced over the girl who sat in silence. Instead of sitting across from her, Lady gracefully lowered herself onto the chair beside her, her movements fluid, practiced, and deliberate.

For a moment, neither spoke. Lady's gaze wandered lazily over the room, taking in the details—the unfinished drinks on the table, the faint hum of conversation in the distance. "You're awfully quiet," she said finally, her tone light with a touch of teasing.

The girl didn't respond immediately. She shifted in her seat, glancing sideways at Lady.

Lady tilted her head slightly. "Should I assume you're always this quiet, or are you saving all your words for the next fight?"

A faint smirk flickered across the girl's lips before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "Maybe," she replied, her voice barely audible but laced with subtle defiance.