Four days before the mission.

Sophia Vale stepped out of the administration block into the late afternoon light. The golden sun painted the academy pathways in long, elegant shadows. Between two buildings, she caught a clear glimpse of the Vale building.

Vince was entering through the main doors, his distinctive purple hair catching the light. Azure followed a few steps behind him, head slightly lowered, shoulders drawn in, the practiced, careful posture of someone who had learned not to draw attention.

The room, Sophia thought. She knew which one. What are you up to?

She had always known. There were aspects of Vince that required a particular kind of patience to manage, the patience of someone who had been managing difficult things for a very long time.

She let it go.

"Sophia." Miss Brown was hurrying after her from the administration building.

Sophia stopped and turned, her expression politely distant.

"Sorry to interrupt. I was reviewing some administrative forms and—"

"I have a meeting," Sophia cut in smoothly. "I’ll be back before four."

She continued walking without waiting for a reply, her sharp heels clicking rhythmically against the path, red dress swaying with each confident step.

****

The meeting room had no windows. It was buried deep inside an old, forgotten annex of the academy, a sealed triangle of power.

Three high-backed chairs of dark, polished wood stood arranged beneath a single, harsh overhead light that cast dramatic circles of illumination while the rest of the room drowned in soft, velvety darkness.

Sophia sat in one chair, legs elegantly crossed, wearing a striking blood-red dress that seemed to drink in the light. One arm rested casually on the chair’s armrest, her posture relaxed yet commanding.

Across from her was Edgar Belmonte, black hair, clean-shaven, piercing blue eyes. He had the unnerving composure of someone who had stopped visibly aging in his early thirties and had been that way for far longer than he cared to admit.

In the third chair sat Monica Veyron, short, sleek white hair, smooth porcelain skin, and features that looked almost too perfect. Both carried the same timeless quality.

"I thought about it the moment Bala told me," Sophia said, her voice calm and measured, cutting through the quiet. "This is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for. The chance to finally dethrone this government."

"Sophie." Monica uncrossed and recrossed her legs with fluid grace, the faint rustle of fabric whispering in the dark room. "This government has deep roots now. We can’t afford to underestimate them."

"The students I’m giving him are from the exact families we need," Sophia continued, her red nails tapping once against the armrest. "It’s the only way to truly unite them against the current regime. Grief does what argument never could."

Edgar stared into the shadowed space between them, fingers steepled under his chin, blue eyes gleaming coldly in the overhead light. "What are the chances of success?"

"Over fifty percent," Sophia replied. "But I want to push them to a hundred."

"Grief might force them to join us," Monica nodded slowly, a small, predatory smile touching her lips. "That’s a strong move. How do you raise the odds?"

"None of the students come back inside the walls," Sophia said simply, her voice flat and final. "That’s the final nail. All four major conservative families lose their children on the same mission. They’ll have no choice but to unite against the government that sent them out there."

Edgar’s mouth curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "What’s the plan?"

"I have a suggestion," Monica said, leaning forward slightly. The overhead light carved sharp shadows across her porcelain face.

"We’re listening."

"Mary Stam." Monica’s eyes gleamed with quiet excitement. "I’ve used her for years against government operations. Shadow walking. She could slip in with the team undetected and eliminate whoever we specify."

Edgar and Sophia exchanged a weighted glance.

"Veyrons," Sophia said with fond exasperation, the kind that came from centuries of repetition. "That’s a Veyron weakness and you all share it. Similar to the plan from a century ago. It doesn’t work."

"Mary Stam isn’t immortal," Edgar added, voice smooth. "One of those students could take her down and then we lose the guarantee."

"It was just a suggestion," Monica said lightly, leaning back with a soft chuckle. "Though she’s already in the area if approved."

"It won’t be approved," Edgar stated. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"I’ve already thought through an alternative," Sophia said, taking control again. "We need someone from within School Central. Someone who looks like they belong on the team. Someone the mission briefing itself puts into perfect position."

"Wise," Edgar murmured, nodding.

"What do you expect from a thousand years?" Sophia replied.

All three of them laughed, low, cultured, and utterly cold. The sound echoed strangely in the windowless chamber.

"I genuinely cannot believe," Edgar said, settling back, "that these people have forced us into a meeting like this."

"Talk about it," Monica said, her white hair catching the light like fresh snow. "A government that was supposed to be our puppet. I don’t even know how it slipped out of our hands."

"I call it evolution," Sophia said. More quiet laughter. Then her tone sharpened. "On a serious note. We need to move fast."

"You’re right." Monica’s voice dropped to a near whisper. "These mortals might actually try to open the walls."

"A possibility," Sophia agreed, rising smoothly from her chair. "Which is exactly why we need a government that knows its place. One that listens."

Monica and Edgar stood as well, their movements graceful and synchronized.

"By the way, Eddie." Monica turned to him as they moved toward the door, heels silent on the carpet. "How are the Belmontes? You’ve all been so quiet lately."

"We’re well. Riya has been involved in charity. Ability development programs." Something dark flickered across Edgar’s face. He turned toward Sophia. "Sophie. Do you remember Riya’s student? The bald one."

"You mean Owen?" Sophia said.

"Yes," Edgar said, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "Owen."

The name hung in the air like a quiet, deadly promise as the three immortals stepped out of the windowless room, leaving the single overhead light burning behind them in the darkness.