K I N G S G L A I V E June 26th A l g a r e t h

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"Were they notified?" The older man asked, still gazing through the top floor window. He adjusted a small golden cufflink over and over again in what appeared to some sort of nervous tick as the sun set over the cityscape of Algareth. The man was clearly in his fifties or sixties as indicated by the crows feet extending from narrow, calculating hazel eyes, but his light olive skin contradicted the notion of old age with its smoothness and glaring absence of any wrinkles; a head of short, neatly cut, salt and pepper hair supported this contradiction as well. He caught a glimpse of himself in the pristine window pane and dropped his hands to let them rest in pockets. The dark suit he wore - three piece, with a matching color vest underneath the blazer and a white collared shirt under the vest - fit perfectly as any tailor-made formal attire should and in doing so accentuated broad shoulders and a medium build. This was a man fit for the position he held and he knew as much.

"Yes, Mr. President. They were notified," The younger man replied with an almost robotic, obligatory tone tinging his voice. The younger man stood some distance away from the president, two couches facing each other and a coffee table in the middle sitting between him and the most important person in Algareth. He stood with his hands behind his back and his legs completely straight and together as he awaited acknowledgement from his superior. He was much younger in the face than the president with bigger more ambitious brown eyes, fair skin, and professionally styled brown hair. The suit he wore - only two piece - was black and slim with a maroon collared shirt under the buttoned blazer and also tailor-made to fit perfectly. His build was smaller than the older man's though he was taller than him by a few inches. He adjusted his slender-rimmed glasses just as a strongly exaggerated sigh echoed in front of him.

"Christ, Cyrus, you could at least pretend that we've known each other for years," The president said, finally turning from the window.

Cyrus chuckled and unclasped his hands. "It's a habit, sir. What do you think people would say if I accidently addressed you as Julius?"

"They would think you're actually capable of independent thought, for one," Julius flashed a grin and made his way back over to the large, oval shaped desk in front of the room-length window and took his seat. Cyrus smirked and followed before stopping on the other side of the desk and ignoring the two chairs on either side of him. "Good lord, take a seat at least. You're too uptight, shit." Cyrus seemed to think for a moment then reluctantly sat down in one of the chairs. Julius shook his head and opened a manila folder that had been silently waiting on the desk. The smile disappeared from his face as his eyes scanned over the content.

"Everything is in place, don't worry. It's true that we're going to meet the Queen of Ivalice on her own turf, but we've taken every measure and have accounted for every scenario. The Royal Guard will not fail to protect you, sir," Cyrus said, suddenly serious once more.

"I know that already. I'm not worried about you or the Royal Guard or any security measures. You know damn well what I'm worried about."

"I suppose I do, sir. You're worried about them, am I right?"

"Yes. It's the only thing to be worried about. If they fail, you understand the consequences?"

"Every scenario, sir,"

"What?"

"We've accounted for every scenario."

Julius let an exhale escape as he rubbed his forehead. He closed the folder and leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling and ceiling fan which was not spinning at the moment. "I'd almost forgotten... I don't want it to have to come that, Cyrus. It can't."

Cyrus stood and adjusted his blazer and glasses. "I hope it doesn't have to, Mr. President," he replied and with that, the vice president, and Julius's unofficial adviser, turned and made his way toward the double doors. He stopped in front of them briefly and glanced his shoulder almost meaning to say one more thing. Thinking better of it, the doors opened and he exited leaving Julius in the top floor office alone with nothing but his thoughts and the men posted just outside the doors. He turned in his chair and faced the window pane once more. The city really was a beautiful sight during sunset.





"Just what kind of fuckery is this?!" Nero almost shouted in disbelief. Two large men pushed the smaller man out the door and onto the bustling sidewalk. Nero stumbled backwards, but managed to keep his footing. He sucked his teeth and brandished a crushed cigarette box that somehow still held two cancer sticks. He lit one just as the manager of the establishment he was just thrown out of came storming through the two large security guards. "That shit said all you can eat man, you can't deny me the damn pizza," Nero nonchalantly stated as he took a puff.

"Kids, it said kids all you can eat!" The short, rotund manager fired back.

"Yeah yeah, semantics. We're all kids at heart, right?"

"The hell does that have to do with eating other people's food as well?!"

"You know there's kids dying of starvation in Africa, right?"

"What the hell's an Africa?!"

"Shit, that was actually in a book I read,"

"Stop this nonsense! I better not see your face again!" The manager flipped up his middle finger and stormed back followed by his hulking security guards. Nero chuckled and took another puff as he turned down the sidewalk and made his way to a parking lot towards a black sports sedan. He checked his watch briefly before hurriedly pulling his phone from a jean pocket. His face suddenly became serious as he stared at the screen.

"Crap, I'm late... " He muttered to himself. It was a short drive mostly due to obvious and highly dangerous speeding, but the sedan pulled into a parking garage and slowly crept through the mostly empty structure before pulling into a lone parking spot. Nero quickly got out and made a beeline for an elevator door that was only accompanied by a blank pad in lieu of any buttons. He placed his hand on the pad and it came to life with an LED hue and a multitude of rapid-fire pricks to the palm. The pad flashed green and a lock released allowing the door to slide open and its waiting occupant to enter. There was only one button on the wall inside and once pressed, the door closed and locked and a short descent later, Nero stepped out into a large, square room that split into different hallways on each wall.

The immense space held large rectangular table in the center with chairs all around it as well as lockers on opposite walls. Pulling out his phone again, Nero once more read over the message he, and no doubt the rest of the members, had received:

This is Vice President Cyrus Alistair, representing the wishes and intentions of President Julius Cid. As you all are aware, the time for peace negotiations with the kingdom of Ivalice is rapidly approaching. As discussed, the Royal Guard will accompany myself, The President, and some of his personal cabinet as we venture to meet the Queen. However, the executive order has been given and the Kingsglaive have been activated for this meeting as well. We will be sending your unit to Ivalice ahead of us with a crucial objective. Both the President and myself feel that this may very well turn out to be some sort of setup and we cannot take any chances. We need the Kingsglaive to infiltrate the Palace of Ivalice and look for any evidence of any negative actions planned against Algareth or the President during this meeting. You are not be seen and you are not to use any magic as no one can ever know you were there. If you fail, your infiltration would be seen as an act of war against Ivalice by Algareth and we cannot afford for our political rivals to have that kind of leverage over us. Meet at the Safehouse and prepare for immediate departure. A car will take you to an airship in one hour.

Nero sighed and approached a locker on the wall. His uniform was hung neatly inside and he gazed at it for a moment. It had been half a year since the last operation, but the Kingsglaive were being assembled once more. He knew the others would be arriving shortly.

Mirany exhaled sharply in frustration as the stripped wires she was working on sparked unexpectedly. She just discovered why this single street light kept burning out so quickly; this was the third time this week she'd been sent to replace the bulb. Her boss would be very interested to learn that whoever had "repaired" this wiring last month had done a piss-poor job. She shook her head at the very thought of a fellow electrician carelessly breezing through such a task. There was never a good reason to do a job so shoddily, and she looked forward to throwing such a thoughtless sloth under the bus.

She had just finished fixing the wiring and was testing the new lightbulb when her phone gave a single ping. Removing her gloves, she reached deep into one of the many pockets of her work-issued cargo pants and read the message. Mirany grinned. It's about time. Finishing her task a little more quickly, but no less thoroughly, she thought of whether she should stop at her apartment before heading over to the Safehouse. No. I restocked my go-bag after the last mission. I have everything I need. She stripped off her gloves and lowered the cherry picker to the ground, eager to rejoin her team members and work up a plan.

After dropping the cherry picker and her tools off at her work building, Mirany jumped onto her motorcycle and sped her way to the parking garage. As she rode down the elevator, she thought of every road to Ivalice she was aware of--and whether they should even risk taking a road. I wouldn't. But I suppose it isn't entirely up to me. The elevator doors opened, breaking her out of her musings. She strode quickly to the Safehouse library and began selecting maps out of their well-stocked archives. Topographic maps, forestry maps, and road maps of Algareth and Ivalice all made their way under Mirany's arms, and she walked back to the main room to spread them all out on the large table.

Somewhere in the room, Gideon's phone was losing its shit. The young man cracked his eyes open and immediately regretted the move as blinding light poured into his vulnerable eyes. Blinking twice, he was at last able to gain a decent picture of his surroundings. He was in the living room of the modest apartment he had been afforded as a member of Teirland's diplomatic attache to Algareth, laying on the couch he vaguely remembered collapsing on at some point after the dreadfully tedious diplomat's ball he'd attended the night before. Judging by the absolute mess the room was in, the splitting headache swimming behind Gideon's eyes and the fact that he could not seem to find his shirt, it seemed fair to guess that the party had gotten a lot less boring at some point.

The phone was still ringing. In a daze, the soldier swung his hand over the the glass table where it lay and swatted at the screen in a vain attempt to make it stop. His struggling was resisted, and reluctantly Gideon grabbed the device and read the message that had appeared on the screen. He paused for only a moment, and then immediately sprung into action.

Or perhaps it'd be better to say he rolled into action, as his first attempt to rise from the leather couch met with disaster. On the second try he managed to get to his feet, and dashed quickly to his apartment's changing room. Ten minutes later, he emerged, having transformed handily from hungover ruin to a well-groomed military gentlemen, though he'd been wise enough to avoid anything in his wardrobe that made his national allegiances explicit.

Lastly, he slung the holster of his twinblade over his back and began sauntering towards the door. "John, get the car ready," he spoke brusquely into the apartment's intercom, then exited the room and slammed the door behind him.

The garage was only a short drive away from the diplomatic offices, a distance further scrunched by the reckless pace Gideon was driving at. He left his car parked next to what he was pretty sure was Mirany's motorcycle and strode over to the lift, whistling quietly to himself the whole way down. Finally, the doors opened into the Safehouse and Gideon stepped out, rolling the kinks out of his shoulders.

"Do you suppose," he announced to the room, "That the brass could be convinced to give us more than an hour's warning next time? I might've been in the middle of some important diplomatic business."

S A G A F U L C R O S S

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June 27th, 3:00pm

The sound of a gun cocking reverberated throughout the bright and spacious living room, emanating from the modestly sized television that had captured the full attention of Saga Fulcross. Sitting cross-legged upon a lengthy, black couch, her hands had a death grip on the drained tub of vanilla ice cream in her lap, dark eyes totally focused on the scene unfolding before her. This was her favorite show, And Justice for All, that followed the partners Jared and Laura in their quest to solve all manner of grisly crimes. As of late, it had been taking some strange turn, focusing on the brutal murder of a multitude of children. "What the fuck, Jared? This can't be happening..." the brazen lady whispered, leaning in as the show took a dramatic twist.

"Don't you see, Laura? I'm the one who killed all those little girls. And now, I'm going to kill you." A bespectacled, raven haired man warned a timid looking woman. She was pressed up against a wall with a handcannon against her forehead, her blonde locks drooping past the barrel of the gun. An ominous smile flickered onto Jared's handsome face. As a shot of the man's finger pulling the trigger flickered onto the screen, Saga's body tensed up in anticipation. However, just before Laura's fate was revealed, the screen went black. Unfortunately, the credits followed the scene, ending the show's one hour run time on a cliff hanger. It was obviously a ploy to attract more viewers, something that quite bothered Saga, someone had followed the drama since its inception.

Grimacing as the show implored her to catch next week's season finale of And Justice for All, Saga let out a displeased growl and promptly got to her feet. A glance at the clock quickly made her eyes go wide, and a surge of panic hit her like a ton of bricks. Apparently she had been so engrossed in her show that time had gotten away from her. "Shit! Saga swore loudly before placing the empty tub of ice cream on the coffee table, grabbing her keys, and fleeing from her home. As her lithe legs swung rapidly into the driver's seat of her olive green jeep, she silently cursed herself for being so inattentive. After all, Saga and the rest of the Kingsglaive had a mission to do, something she was not intent on being tardy for. Revving her powerful, all terrain beast to life, the furious woman reversed dangerously out of her drive way and onto the road, away from her modest home. Depending on how many laws she broke, a swift calculation told her she'd be at the Kingsglaive's safehouse in... 7 minutes, give or take.

K I N G S G L A I V E S A F E H O U S E

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June 27th, 3:07pm

It ended up that Saga was exactly right in her calculations, as she swung right into the parking garage when the clock struck 3:07. Sure, a few people probably hated her now after she cut them off and ran a few red lights, but that was beside the point. The fact was that the mission was not endangered now due to her prompt arrival. Narrowly barreling into vehicles she recognized as Gideon's car and Mirany's motorcycle, Saga parked perhaps a little too close to the elevator. Not once had she ever been complimented for her driving skills, and it did not seem anyone would begin to in the near future. Clambering over her jeep's windowless door, hurried strides whisked her over to elevator's door, where she immediately placed her right hand on the pad. As the pricks of her palm subsided, the doors opened and she methodically pushed the singular button within the small chamber. Impatiently, the brazen woman tapped her foot and waited for her stop.

As the doors opened once again, Saga stepped out with the force of a hurricane. It was clear by her attire, nothing more than a white tank top and navy blue sleeping shorts, that she was not quite dressed for the mission at hand. Luckily, there was the standard issue Kingsglaive raiment waiting for her within the confines of a personal locker. "Sorry, sorry. I got stuck in the tube." Saga announced her excuse for being tardy, all the while shaking her head in disgust. Her march led her next to Nero and she greeted him with a small smile. Deftly opening her locker and pulling out the military-esque garments within, she attempted to strike up some sort of conversation. "Good to see everyone again. Looks like everybody is healthy and-" Her words teetered off as her nose caught the familiar scent of grease and tobacco wafting from Nero's form. As she hiked up a pair of tactical pants over her sleeping shorts, her eyes dangerously narrowed in on the well-built man. "Nero, I thought we talked about this addiction of yours... I figured you would have stopped by now."

Not even 5 minutes inside, and she was already on Nero's ass about his unhealthy habits.

B L A I R C L O V E R F I E L D

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"Hey cutie! Another beer over here!"

The big, burly man called over to Blair as she had her back turned to him and was trying desperately not to roll her eyes and vomit. The man could stand to lose a few pounds, and she was referring to the other three guys he associated himself with. All of them were loud, obnoxious, and were probably drinking their paychecks away while their significant others and children suffered at home.

But it paid the bills.

Blair, despite what she may appear to be, enjoyed working at the bar. It provided much needed entertainment on otherwise slow, boring days. All she had to do was walk around in a tight outfit, pour drinks, and pretend she gave a damn. She was surprised she didn't have to smile much, if at all. The men (and even some women) enjoyed the "resting bitch face" she sported. Some found her to be a conquest, the ultimate prize. Get her to smile and you won the day.

These people typically failed.

Blair turned around and nodded as she went behind the counter and poured another glass. This was the man's fifth one in 2 hours, he would be getting cut off soon. They weren't regulars, but she has seen them around before. She imagined they were work buddies, construction or something. If they weren't so unappealing, they'd be almost appealing.

Blair finished her pour (she mastered the craft in only a day) and walked over to the booth. "Here you go guys. Can I get you anything else?" she asked in a seemingly concerned way she was able to easily get out. The three friends smiled knowingly as the big man in charge gave a shit-eating grin. "Well now that you ask, I could use your phone number."

She almost couldn't hold it in. Was this guy serious? She's been flirted with before, it comes with the job (and the fact she was one of very few women in the bar, and she had a pulse) but that was seriously a poor effort. Blair could only look into his eyes, giving him a 'watch yourself' glair, "Sorry, my number is not on the menu. How about some wings instead?". She turned away when the man started to speak again, "Whoa now baby. No need to get snippy. I thought I'd try, is all. I see something else I want," and before she could turn around to look at him again, she felt the man's hand slip on to her rear. And held it there.

The other three men began chuckling as she stood there. She almost couldn't believe it. She had never been groped at the bar before. Some have looked, but never touched.

"That's a nice ass doll. Couldn't help myself," the man stated matter-of-factly, like it was HER fault that because she had such a nice butt he had to touch it. She tilted her head to the left side as he continued to fondle her.

It only took a few seconds for her to turn around and punch the guy square in the face.

It didn't even hurt.

The man's head belted back and he let out a cry, "Ah, Bitch!" A few more seconds passed and he looked at her, a fierce gleam in his gaze as he and his three friends stood up, "No bitch does that to me and gets away with it!" he screamed and reached out to grab her. Blair proved to be too quick as she easily outmaneuvered the man and took his arm and flipped him over. He let out a loud groan as he hit the floor, hard. His three friends stood dumbfounded before they, too, went after her. It was almost too easy. She let them close the gap before she got one of them with a good kick in the junk. The other two she let them both get near before she spun around and gave a solid back kick to one's head as he topped over on the other. Both fell with a satisfying thunk.

Before they could get up and continue this thrashing, she head another voice, "Oi, break it up you lot. Can't you see this is a poor, defenseless woman you're harassing." Blair looked over to see Colin come out from behind the bar. He, of course, conveniently waited to stop the fight after she kicked their asses. It was one thing she liked about it.

The men groaned and stood up, "Are you fucking kidding me! She.." but Colin held up a hand, "Before you spout out any other nonsense that's sure to get you punched again, let me say that I saw the whole thing. The lady merely defended herself. Now why don't you all go home. I'll add your drinks to your tab." The men stood there to argue some, but stopped, "Ah, it's not worth it." They all got up and left, but not before the one she punched turned around to stare at her one more time. She gave him the finger.

She turned to face Blair. He shook his head and chuckled, "Can't say they didn't deserve that, but now you're out a tip." She only shrugged. Before she could speak, she heard the familiar ringtone on her phone. She bounced behind the bar and picked it up and read the message. She nodded, "Sorry, I need to head out. Can you handle the rest here?" she asked Colin. He nodded his head, "Course I can. Nobody bothers to fondle my arse here," he said with a wave. She headed out the door.

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It's been a while since she went on a Kingsglaive mission. She admitted to herself she missed doing it. She saw the others outside of their work, some would come into the bar or she'd see them on the street. She had to admit that she enjoyed working with them. She didn't think she'd find anyone she could trust wholly, but the group proved her wrong. She would easily allow any of them to watch her back.

She sauntered into the room to see some of the others already there. She came in just as Saga was lecturing Nero about his smoking habit. She walked over to a chair and sat down, "If he wants to smoke, I say let him. We already do deadly things all the time, what's a cigarette going to do that's worse?" She shurgged, "I kicked some guys' asses today, so I am in a good mood," she said with the same stoic face. The others that knew her well could tell there was a hint, however small it was, of a smile.

D I A N T H E S A R R I S June 26th A l g a r e t h ' s N a t u r a l H i s t o r y M u s e u m

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Written in the history books throughout Azalea, the first trace of humankind on the planet was found in the Northern Hemisphere in the Continent known as Eigis. An arctic jungle diverse of polar creatures, the continent is populated by a native race known as Terrans who have blood ties to the First Men of the planet. Covered in ruins and villages, its citizens still live in ancient buildings and structures said to date back thousands of years ago. For centuries Azalea's archeologist and scientist have found the continent to be a hotbed of history, and to this date, items of old are still being found today. As of recently, Dianthe was notified of a discovery taken place within one of the many dig sites on the continent. An item, which she soon learned was called a vinyl disc, was discovered with over thirty other discs perfectly reserved in time thanks to the frozen temperature.

In it's fragile state the disc was found to be too precious to study directly, and with modern technology, the vinyl was read, repaired, and remade. And what was found was none other then music. As the senior historian at Algerath's Natural History Museum, Dianthe was given the music and made responsible to set up an exhibit, but with a recent message from her second job the young woman was unsure if she even had the time to look into the project. As frustrating as it was, Dianthe had accepted the jobs despite her hesitation, and as she sat in her beat up silver Toyota she found herself looking over the audio files that had been uploaded onto her phone.

Scrolling through the countless names, she finally settled on an artist and song as tapped it open. Frank Sinatra - That's Life. The song artist and title name was an absolute mystery to the historian, but for the sake of good money and getting a taste of the past, Dianthe decided to give it a listen. Connecting her phone to her car radio, she leaned back in her seat and waited to hear what came off of the cleaned up audio, and as it played goosebumps slowly rose on her skin. The music, while grainy, was comprehendible. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before, and it was in no way like the music that was currently polluting Azalea's mainstream radio stations. Upbeat, jazzy, and soulful, she couldn't help but hop in her seat as she danced softly to the oddly appropriate song. Turning on her car and putting it into reverse, Dianthe backed out of her parking spot and headed off to finish a few errand before making her to the Safehouse.

D I A N T H E S A R R I S June 26th S a f e h o u s e

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After running her errands the rest of the drive was short and peaceful, and with her equipment already sitting in her locker at the safehouse, Dianthe decided against stopping at her apartment and instead headed straight to headquarters. Parking outside of the seemingly empty structure beside Nero's sedan and Saga's Jeep, Dianthe lugged out a handful of bags as she kicked her car door closed and locked it with the button on her keys. It had been a fair struggle to get inside, nearly dropping a number of items as she fought to balance the bags on her chest and get her hand read on the pad. Descending down once inside, the familiar voices of her teammates filled her ears as the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. Saga getting on Nero's case, Blair defending him, and Gideon complaining even before the mission, Dianthe couldn't help but feel at home again as she took in the leathery smell of the Safehouse.

"Do you suppose that the brass could be convinced to give us more than an hour's warning next time? I might've been in the middle of some important diplomatic business."

"Oh hush, Gideon. I can smell the alcohol on your breath even in the elevator. In fact, I bet you're nursing a hangover right now." Oh, it was good to be back.

Throwing a playful wink Gideon's way, Dianthe turned her gaze to Blair, Saga, Mirany, and Nero as an excited grin stretched across her face, "Can you all believe it's been so long! We've finally got the band back together!" While it had been half a year Dianthe had stayed in touch with her teammates, often visiting them personally or calling everyone together at Blair's bar whenever they were available, which was often rare. So despite seeing them recently, the princess' excitement was focused on the mission aspect of their regrouping. It was only on missions that Dianthe felt closest to her team, and she was more than ready to get back into the field after such an extended vacation.

Carrying her bag of treats over, she dropped them at the center of the table after neatly moving a few maps Mirany had laid out. "Since it's been so long I decided to get you all a little something, kind of like a celebratory present. So, I hope you all are hungry!" She said, almost speaking directly to Nero as she stared him down with a hard look. Knowing her leader, he had probably eaten earlier but she knew he would never turn down a piece of pizza from Capello's Pizzeria, Algerath's best Italian Cuisine and Pizzeria.

Frozen chocolate strawberries and a fruit salad for Blair, a personal sized supreme pizza from Capello's for Nero, a bowl of Shrimp Scampi with Linguini -- also from Capello's -- for Saga, an iceberg cheeseburger and lemonade from another one of Algerath's famous diners for Mirany, and a tall fruit shake and salad for the hangover king himself. Staring proudly at the display of food on the table, Dianthe crossed her arms and gave herself a mental pat on the back, "It was payday, so no thanks necessary." With that said, the redhead made her way to the locker room where she removed her business clothes and changed into her Kingsglaive uniform before returning to her teammates. Pulling out one of the many chairs as she leaned her sheathed weapon against the tabled, Dianthe plopped down on the cushioned seat before grabbing her own personal pepperoni pizza, "Looks like we're all here, then. Go ahead, take it away, boss man." She said, putting her full attention on Nero before shoving a piece of pizza in her mouth.

K I N G S G L A I V E || N e r o S a x o n || S a f e h o u s e

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Nero grinned as he slowly buttoned his collared vest and Gideon entered the room. "Yeah, I'm sure that business was real diplomatic, Carrahy," He replied to the man loudly without turning from his locker. Nero had always liked Gideon if only for the fact that he made it so much fun to pick at him. Most things a person said simply rolled off of the proud man's shoulders and the commander of the Kingsglaive appreciated an individual with thick skin. The locker clanged to a close just as Saga planted herself next to her superior to get her own uniform - and, of course, her sense of smell was as accurate as always. She immediately wrinkled her face and narrowed her eyes as she pulled on clothes. Internally, the man next to her was hanging his head in shame.

"Nero, I thought we talked about this addiction of yours... I figured you would have stopped by now."

Nero chuckled and folded his arms, turning to push his back against the locker like a high school jock. "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me, Saga," A hand reached around the back of his neck as he pulled away from the locker. "We gotta have our indulgences, right?" He made his way toward he large table in the middle of the room with a casual stroll. It was good to see that his team had not changed much. Despite the time between missions, the Kingsglaive members never failed to fall back into the old social routines. While anybody else would think that a highly elite military unit would behave more professionally, Nero was fine with the informal mentalities. In his mind, it would have been boring otherwise. He approached the table and plopped into a seat at one of the ends right near where Mirany had a spread of maps laid out. She was staring at them intently.

"All business, huh?" Nero joked. He made a note of what some of the maps actually were and took a guess at what she was trying to determine. "While I appreciate your efforts as usual, I think we're going by airship. Although, a topographical map could be a good idea come to think of it." Nero leaned over to stare at a map just as Blair entered the room. Or maybe she had already been there because the first thing she said was in defense of her commander's smoking habit. An appreciative smirk pulled at the corners of the man's mouth and he briefly turned in his chair to the blonde to give her a thumbs up. She was right after all; the dangerous activities of the Kingsglaive were not the type of operations to be taken lightly and a cigarette, by comparison, could no more harm than being impaled by an enemy soldier's blade.

A glorious smell wafted into the room just as the rest of the team finished getting changed and taking their seats at the massive table. Dianthe had always known her way to a man's heart. In she walked with culinary gifts for all and the smell of Capello's pizza was undeniable. That'll teach that bastard to throw me out, Nero thought as a personal-sized supreme slid down the table in his direction. Even having literally just eaten there was no denying the satisfying aroma of a masterfully crafted pizza. It was a thing of beauty. The opened box revealed the perfectly risen crust surrounding an even canvas of cheese and toppings. As the team finally situated themselves, Nero grabbed a slice before delving into the mission itself.

"Well... " Nero began, taking a large bite out of his food. "As much as I'd like to continue the pleasantries, seems like we're here for a reason after all. You all got the exact same message that I did so you know why we're here and it's a damn doozy. We're going to be infiltrating the fucking Palace of Ivalice. Me not knowing how to feel about that aside, it's going to be an extremely delicate operation. As the message said, if anyone finds out we're there, it won't matter that they'll wonder who the Kingsglaive is, they'll take it as a declaration of war from Algareth. We could single-handedly turn these hostile tensions into the full-blown war they've been threatening to escalate into and that is a no-go," Nero finished his pizza in record time and stood from his chair, deciding instead to take an informal seat on the edge of the table itself. His face suddenly became series with narrowed eyes, folded arms, and a firm disposition.

"Just as the VP said, we cannot, under any circumstances, resort to our magic. Hell, we've rarely had to use it before and this isn't the type of operation where we take unnecessary risks. With that said, I'd also say our weapons should be a last resort. We don't want to kill anyone during peaceful negotiations and, only if comes to it, non-lethal force should be our first option. A car is going to take us to one of the stealth airships and we're gonna drop into the city from above. We're only doing this because, due to the peace talks, Ivalice has tightened border security and everyone entering or leaving is subject to scrutiny," Nero grabbed one of the topographical maps Mirany had spread on the table. One of them happened to be a bird's eye view of the palace itself - that type of information was public record. "We're gonna land in the courtyard just outside of a back entrance into the palace. It'll be the middle of the night so we'll have darkness as a cover, but considering the guard, we'll probably have to put some people to sleep immediately. I guess I'll give you guys the full plan when we get there."

The clock, high on a wall above a set of lockers, read 4:30 PM. It was time to depart.

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J u n e 27th || 1 1 : 5 0 PM

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Airships came in all different sizes and styles. While the air fleet of Teirland was generally considered to be the best engineered in all of Azalea, the stealth division of Algareth itself stood as the only manufacturer that could rival them. They had been specifically created to produce airships small and quiet enough to carry very few numbers of people at a time - ironically, engineers from Teirland had been secured through private contracts to help commission these technological marvels. The airship carrying the Kingsglaive cut the through the soft light of the moon and blackness of night at high speed, but made almost zero noise in doing so. The advanced propulsion system manipulated gravity to move the ship in any given direction rather than actually having the ship fly the air itself. It was the product of the magical science arm of the kingdom and it worked well enough that it became the standard for covert operations. The ship itself was a boxy design of solid ebony while four small wings protruded from the four edges where walls met roof and bottom to create a sort of "X" shape in the air. The propulsion system in the back radiated a light pink glow and the front of the vessel slimmed into a coned nose to help with aerodynamics. It was a simple looking craft in all honesty, but nothing fancy was required to be stealthy.

The pilot raised two fingers in Nero's direction as the group sat in the small boxed area, three members on each wall across from each other. There were monitors hanging from the ceiling directly behind the two pilots and a bevy of compartments above each row of heads. The exterior was deceptively small as the interior was big enough to house each team member and their choice of weapon. Nero adjusted the gauntlet on his right forearm before a click and whizzing noise sounded for a second. "I know it's been a while so I'll explain these things again," He said pointing to the gauntlet. "These are the same gravity deformation gauntlets we used back when... Well, back when someone thought it'd be a good idea to escape via cliffside drop off rather than wait for a proper extraction." Nero gave Dianthe a playful side eye before continuing. "They work pretty simply. When we jump from the ship, all you have to do is snap your fingers and the gauntlet will generate a spherical energy field that will slow your fall until you land silently. The trick is just snapping at the right time. We're gonna need to free fall until we're close to the ground in order to get the drop on the knights that'll be standing guard in the courtyard." Nero stood and grabbed his lance that was leaning on the wall next to him, swinging it around to a metallic plate in the middle of his upper back where it magnetically attached. "Oh, and don't forget to pull up your damn masks."

The airship door automatically opened, jutting out a few inches first and sliding backwards, as the pilot signaled again that they'd reached the jump point. The craft came to an abrupt halt in the air and hovered. The palace, with its magnificent size, could be seen down below in the distance just as a light layer of clouds began moving over it. This semi-cloudy night had been a purposeful choice. As the rest of the team gathered their gear, Nero stepped up towards the opening and glanced back. "This is our first mission together in about half a year and it's a pretty important one at that so we have to take this seriously. That being said however... " He pulled up black fabric from under his vest and fit it around the lower half of his face, the partial mask coming to the bridge of his nose. "See you on the ground!" He chortled and took a gleeful dive.

The air was cool and refreshing as Nero held his body straight to gain the maximum speed on his descent. He narrowed his eyes to decrease the rushing air hitting them and as the spires of the palace grew closer, his heart pounded a bit more. He had missed this kind of exhilarating feeling for six months. Right on time, he snapped his fingers and a clear energy field distorted and warped the space around him, slowing his fall, but not as much as he needed it to - which was also a purposeful choice. The knights on the ground were separated around the walled courtyard; two stood by the door the team would need to get into, two stood on the left wall with about ten feet of space between them, one seemed to patrolling around a garden area on the right wall and one stood near the center of half-circled wall across the yard from the door. They were all far enough away to be taken out quietly. Nero slowed his descent a bit more, but still came in with enough speed to put a knee into the knight's armored back and force him to the ground. He flipped the surprised enemy around, opened his visor, and punched him square in the face with enough controlled force to knock him out before he could say a word.

One of the knights near the left side of the half-circled wall had been taken care of and since he knew that his team's timing was usually near perfect, he expected the rest of the small patrol to be handled momentarily when the rest of the team dropped in.

Gideon plopped down in a chair and immediately propped his feet up on the table, surveying the arrivals with a grin. For Dianthe he gave a chuckle and a half-shrug. "Guilty. Though to be fair, I can think of few more important diplomatic duties than the nursing of hangovers." The young man gave a half-wave to Blair as well. "Goodness. Did some poor soul attempt to smile at you? Perish the thought."

Shortly after, Nero entered into his 'commanding officer' mode and began to lay out the mission briefing. In truth, Gideon spent the majority of the briefing staring at the ceiling, making mouth noises under his breath, and nibbling at the fruit salad Dianthe had gotten him (if the choice of meal was the result of Dianthe's playing a joke on him, the joke was on her - free food was only ever good). As a result, he only caught a few buzzwords of the mission briefing, like 'no magic', 'no weapons', 'full-scale war'. Goodness, it was going to be another one of those missions.

Finally, Nero said something that made the whole room rise up, and Gideon deduced that the briefing was over. "Right then, let's be on our way," the soldier said, rolling his shoulders. "Incidentally I'd like to remind everyone that I'm still leading in kills/knockouts by seven, so, you know, step it up for this one."

---

Maybe it was his Teirish blood, Gideon never felt more at home than on the deck of an airship. Up in the sky, the wind blowing through your hair, surrounded by several hundred tons of military hardware... a man could be free on an airship. There was none of the bullshit you got down below, or at least there was less of it.

But there was no time for waxing poetic. Gideon was in the box, sitting between Dianthe and Mirany, his twinblade affixed to his back. They were dropping into combat soon, a high-stakes infiltration mission, and Gideon would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly giddy. Being a diplomat with no job had its perks, but the young man missed the soldier's life; specifically the part where he got to beat people up on a regular basis.

Gideon chortled all through the safety briefing at the mention of Dianthe's 'incident' with the gauntlets. He already knew how to use them, of course: the Kingslaive versions were far more advanced than the equivalent technology used by the Airship Corps, but it was the same basic prinicipal.

At long last the door opened and Nero went plunging out. Taking only a second to pull the mask over his handsome face, Gideon was the next one out after him. Now he was falling, faster and faster and faster, and the soldier let out a loud 'whoop' as he straightened his body into a dive, only snapping his gloves at the perfect moment to maintain his speed.

Nero was already in the process of knocking out one of the knights, so Gideon tilted his fall towards the knight patrolling in the garden. He touched down directly behind the guard, who only just managed to turn around when Gideon threw an elbow into his armored face. His opponent reeled back and Gideon sprang forward, sliding across his enemy's back and smacking him across the face again. The masked soldier twisted his whole body around to kick the guard with his right leg, throwing his other leg around the man's waist and letting the momentum from his spin carry the knight to the ground, where Gideon promptly yanked his helmet off.

He brought the flat of the helmet across the man's face two times, knocking him out cold. Gideon straightened his back and began to advance towards the doors. "One."

Mirany rolled her eyes for what was neither the first, nor, she thought unhappily, the last time at Gideon's undue self-important blathering. She returned her attention to her maps, vaguely noting the others' arrival and their familiar banter in the back of her mind until Nero spoke to her directly.

"While I appreciate your efforts as usual, I think we're going by airship. Although, a topographical map could be a good idea come to think of it."

She blushed as she looked back down at the table. Of course we're not walking there, you idiot. Even after three years, she was still unused to the perks of being a member of the Kingsglaive. Airships. Weapons. Food.

Mentally she shook her head. Now wasn't the time to hold a pity party for herself over her poor upbringing. It was then she noticed the cheeseburger and lemonade Dianthe had brought her. She smiled. Dianthe still didn't know what her favorite food was, just like the others, but somehow she had figured out that Mirany adored lemonade. She directed her small grin at the redhead as she picked up the plastic cup and took a long sip from the straw.

Nero began speaking through a bite of his pizza and Mirany turned her attention to him. She took a few bites of her cheeseburger as she listened, but didn't finish it. It wasn't really her thing, but she wanted to show Dianthe she appreciated the gesture.

As Nero continued to speak, Mirany realized she had forgotten to change into her uniform. It really has been a while. I've gotten sloppy. Sneaking quietly to the locker room, she dressed quickly while listening to Nero's loud voice echoing from the meeting room. He was just finishing up his speech when she returned, strapping her dagger to her side. Everyone stood, and Gideon piped up again. Mirany braced herself.

"Right then, let's be on our way. Incidentally I'd like to remind everyone that I'm still leading in kills/knockouts by seven, so, you know, step it up for this one."

She didn't even bother rolling her eyes at that one.

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Mirany polished her dagger to occupy herself on the flight, studiously ignoring Gideon's obvious glee at being on a mission again. She didn't look up from her work while Nero gave the re-briefing on the gravity gauntlets, though she listened intently, relieved that he was refreshing her memory. Beyond the circuitry she encountered on a near-daily basis through her job, she was pretty unversed in the world of technology, having lived on the streets for so long. Wires and switches she could understand; having them physically in front of her meant that she could see just how everything connected to make a light turn on. But the so-called "intuitive" controls of today's gadgets and gizmos--these were foreign to her.

Finally, they reached the airspace over the palace courtyard and it was time to exit the airship. Mirany's heart fluttered anxiously in her chest. She didn't relish the thought of just hopping right out into the air and falling hundreds of feet, even if she did have a magic glove that controlled gravity. She gave a last glance at Blair sitting across from her. Her face was unreadable as always, but Mirany thought that maybe she was a little nervous too, and the notion was oddly comforting. Resolved, Mirany put away her polishing cloth and resheathed her dagger.

After Nero and Gideon propelled themselves out the airship door with typical bravado, Mirany unbuckled herself from her seat and stood. Nervously, she readjusted her gauntlet and walked to the open door. Pulling her mask over her face, she took a deep breath and stepped out into the open air without hesitation. Her stomach did somersaults in her abdomen, but she steadily kept her body ramrod straight as she dropped from the airship. She felt her braid lift from her neck and sway violently in the wind. She scanned the courtyard as she fell and selected the knight directly across from the door as her target. She shifted a bit in the air, directing her descent toward the guard. She gauged her distance, waiting, then snapped her fingers abruptly. She kicked out at the back of the man's head as soon as she reached him, knocking him out cold, and neatly landed beside his crumpled figure in a crouch. Looking up, she saw that Nero and Gideon had taken care of the guards on either side of the wall. She stood swiftly and jogged over to join them.

I V A L I C E || June 24th - 6:23 PM

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In the center of the city, inside a high tower of the Palace, the tangerine light from the setting sun filled the spacious, circular room, pouring in from an entirely glass wall to the north of its entrance. The light tinted the refined decor of the space, adding to a palette of muted colors: maroons, forest greens, deep purples. It gave enough light to cast shadows behind the two lone figures in the middle of the room, both absently watching the ongoings of Ivalice as the day came to a close.

"Is it contained?"

The fine, yet firm voice came from the woman to the right of the intricately constructed table where the two were sitting, upon which a teapot, two cups, and a small platter of finger foods were resting. Light from outside colored this woman's greying hair, pulled up into a high, neat bun and held in place by an ornate rustic golden barrette. Her long, richly blue gown spilled onto the marble floor, and though it was obviously attire for the affluent, it was relatively simple in design. Pale, slender fingers were nursing a porcelain cup and saucer, which occasionally made its way up to subtly pursed lips. Sitting with pristine posture, she possessed a very mature air about her, although one would never have guessed her old age. There was an obvious lack of wrinkles or fine lines on her face, though the quiet confidence nestled behind sharp, blue eyes was enough to indicate years of experience. Yet despite her imposing demeanor, her charm and warmth still emanated without fail.

"Yes, mam," came the cool reply, a low, drawling alto from the woman sitting across from her. She too had a saucer and teacup, but she held the cup within the palm of her hand instead of delicately holding it by the handle with her fingers. Though much younger than her clear superior, her posture was no less perfect. Shoulders rolled back, spine lengthened, ankles crossed together near the legs of the cushioned chair. In contrast to her surroundings, this female seated across the table sported a sleek, almost-blackened blue armored bodysuit that fit snugly to her athletic build. Her hair, jet-black and waist-length, was styled the way she'd been doing it for most of her life; straight out of a very old magazine she'd come across, which displayed hairstyles from the "1940s". Two victory rolls crowned her head, while the rest of her hair lay in waves down her back. Prominent cheekbones cut through her slender face, which sported deep-set jade green eyes that might have spawned the phrase 'if looks could kill'.

The two ladies continued to sip from their drinks in comfortable silence for a few moments, before the first woman spoke again.

"Ophelia, you are aware that the consequences of a mishap during this meeting would be disasterous-"

"Yes, I am very aware, my Queen."

Both women finally tore their gazes away from the cityscape to look at each other. There was some sort of stare-off between the two, before Queen Cereza relented and relaxed into her seat. It wasn't so much out of defeat than it was respect. After all, she'd known Ophelia personally for upwards of eight years, and she knew her Knight General would've handled everything with agency. After taking a long draw of her tea, she flashed the girl a warm smile and set both saucer and cup down on the table before her. "I apologize, dear. You know I'm just concerned about this meeting..."

Ophelia, also being quite at ease in her relationship with the Queen of Ivalice, mirrored her lady's smile over the rim of the cup - a rare sight for those not in her good company. "No apology needed, mam. I understand." Replacing her drink on the table, as well, she continued, "Everything is in place. All my men have been trained and briefed, all security measures have been activated, and all the formalities for the President and his entourage..." the women shared an almost comic glance at the mention of Algareth's Presidential party with each other before she continued, "are being taken care of as we speak."

Nodding, Queen Cereza inhaled deeply while idly tracing patterns on the table with her finger tip. Her gaze slipped into a more serious state as she asked, "And are we sure it's contained?" Wanting to alleviate her worry, Ophelia matched her tone with her lady's meaningful stare. She knew there was only one way to comfort her when she was this concerned. Checking, double checking, and triple checking. "Yes, mam, I'm sure. But-" The Knight General rose from her chair and moved to stand at her leader's shoulder, placing a hand on it and squeezing reassuringly. "I will go check on the status again and have someone report back to you."

The Queen, always appreciative of her right-hand's thoughtfulness, lifted her own hand to give Ophelia's a little squeeze of its own. "Thank you, dear. You know me so well." She chuckled under her breath, and watched as the girl left through the large doors, before turning her attention back to the setting sun.

D I A N T H E S A R R I S Safehouse

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Capello's pizza was truly a masterpiece of culinary art. Just the right amount of marinara sauce was under a thick layer of pure mozzarella, and while not greasy, the personal pizza was perfect crunchy and chewy. Crust risen just right without a trace of the dough being burnt, and with every bite it was like a piece of heaven was in her mouth. For a solid second of that first bite Dianthe was no longer in the safehouse with her Kingsglaive unit, but with her pizza. And if it hadn't been for her leaders powerful voice, she would have been lost in Capello's famous pepperoni masterpiece. It was hard to tell if she was taking his word seriously as gooey cheese threatened to drop on her uniform, but Dianthe's crystal blue eyes watched Nero with great interest as he spoke of the missions risk.

The threat of war was something Kingsglaive was used to, but since this drama was between the two biggest powers on the planet there was no telling what kind of destruction such a war could cause. There was no half-assing it on this mission, not that she'd half-assed one before, but the seriousness of the situation was nothing to play around with. "Incidentally I'd like to remind everyone that I'm still leading in kills/knockouts by seven, so, you know, step it up for this one."

Eyes narrowing, Dianthe threw Gideon a small glare before smirking, "A hundred dollars says I'll take that lead." The challenge made all of Dianthe's previous thought look hypocritical, but her pride was too big not to make an attempt top knock out. As satisfying as completing a mission was, knocking Gideon down from his pedestal was, if not more, satisfying than the latter. It was a playful rivalry, but Dianthe knew better lose focus of her priorities. It also didn't help that stealth missions weren't her forte, but tonight it would have to be. So with her head held high, the princess strode past Gideon with confidence in her step as she made her way to the pick-up zone. There was no way she was going to lose to him, and with the weight of the world literally depending on this mission, Dianthe was going to make sure to bring her A game on this one.

D I A N T H E S A R R I S Palace of Ivalice

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The flight to Ivalice was longer than Dianthe would have liked, but she had spent most of it listening to the music on her phone. Eyes closed, and listening intently, she had gone through most of the old time tunes by the time they reached their destination. Standing with the rest of her team, she kept her eyes locked on Nero as he began their briefing. She had done this sort of thing many times before, hopping out of planes that is, and the gauntlet was also very familiar as stated by Nero in his explanation to the rest of the team. Rolling her eyes before flexing her fist within the gauntlet, Dianthe's took her free hand and grabbed Ophian from her seat. Locking the sheathed sword to the metallic plate on her back, a cold chill ran up her back as anticipation and excitement welled up within her. 'Here we go.'

First it was Nero, then it was Gideon, and then Mirany. Not wanting to wait any longer, Dianthe stepped forward and took a peak out at the dive below. Clouds hung above the massive palace as she watched her two other teammates follow after their leader within the air. Looking back at Blair and Saga, the redhead gave the other two a thumbs up before pulling her mask up over the bridge of her nose and jumping out. Wind whipped at her face as she fell, the cool night air burning at her skin as her eyes squinted in response to the pressure. Glancing at the castle she gazed at the towering structure as she fell beside it. Vibrant blue eyes glanced back at the ground with haste as she caught sight of one of the two guards standing near the door. Adjusting her fall and dropping in fast, Dianthe snapped her fingers no more than thirty feet above the guard as she used the momentum of her fall to knock him unconscious. Digging her knee into his back as she grabbed the back of his head and forced him onto the ground, Dianthe took him out on impact. Dragging the unconscious body of the guard away from the door, she leaned him against the wall before returning to the group and adjusting her mask. Grinning visibly beneath her mask, a shaky breath slipped from her lips as she whispered quietly to the rest of her team, "Man, it feels good to do that again."

S A G A F U L C R O S S

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Saga scoffed at Blair's interjection and Nero's comment about indulgences, a curt frown plastered upon her visage now. They were much too casual about the subject. Cigarettes affected the respiratory system and their dear leader had a significantly higher chance of being afflicted with cancer and other maladies. So what was a cigarette going to do him? Well, for one, Nero was going to find himself unable to keep up with the rest of his team one day since his lungs would be filled to the brim with tar and whatever awful substances were in those cancer sticks of his. That might very well get all of them killed, considering his healthier team mates would be the ones having to slow down on account of him. Pulling on her black vest, she decided against bringing the cynical situation to light. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you." were her final words on the matter.

Across the room, Mirany was busying herself with maps, which was a bit odd considering they were being airlifted to their destination, something Nero made sure to address. The maps could be useful in any case though. At least, Saga had never known a map to be totally useless, so she could commend the younger woman on her efforts. Gideon, on the other hand, was being... well, Gideon-ish, lounging in his distinct imperious way. The man's boasting never ceased to get under her skin, but he was one of the very few cocky-types that could put their money where their mouth was. She remembered loathing every minute around him when they had first been brought together and the many fights the two of them had gotten into. Unfortunately, that man would never be tamed. While he was still a headache, now he was one that she could tolerate.

Then there was the excitable, lively body of Dianthe, who floated into the room on a cloud of enthusiasm. To say that Dianthe was a breath of fresh air would be an understatement; she was a woman who wore her emotions on her sleeve yet radiated with positivity, something the team often needed considering the nigh suicidal nature of their job. The voluminous room was swimming in the intoxicating aroma that the tall woman brought with her. A hefty amount of delicious food was strewn about Mirany's table of maps, and the redhead presented the gifts she had purchased for everyone. Having finished lacing up her combat boots, Saga made her way over to the company of her comrades and spotted the gift of a rather immense portion of shrimp scampi. Internally, her heart sank, knowing she would have to reject the food. As much as she wanted to indulge in the meal, there was no way she'd make it through the mission, or the airlift for that matter, without visiting the bathroom more than a few times. Shrimp scampi was delicious and one her most favorite things in the world, but it also nuked her stomach to oblivion.

"This is very sweet of you, Dee. I don't want my stomach imploding on our next mission though, so I'm going to refrain from eating this. I'll pay you back." Saga apologetically explained to her friend, feeling a bit bad about it. Seating herself, her dark eyes watched as everyone else engorged themselves. They made her feel old since they had no problem whatsoever with risking the integrity of their bowels just before a crucial mission, while she sat there and silently listened to Nero debrief them, like some of kind of old crone. How the hell that man could eat whole pizzas and not shit himself on a regular basis was beyond her. If there was anything to be impressed about by him, it was that he had a damned gastrointestinal system of a god.

---

Saga sat cross-legged next to Blair as the aircraft's soft hum threatened to lull her to sleep. She reckoned she probably could get away with a nap, but then she'd be too groggy to do anything useful for the team. Not to mention, there was a growing sickness in her stomach that would make sleep impossible. While she had been on countless planes before, motion sickness always caught up with her one way or the other, and she practically relied on a steady regimen of Dramamine to quell the symptoms of nausea. Reaching into a small utility pocket on her belt, Saga's gloved hand pulled out a bottle of white pills, grabbed a few, and tossed them down the hatch. As she placed the bottle back to its proper location, her mind mentally checked over her supplies. In a word, Saga was prepared; along her belt, there were several other pouches that contained a variety of useful items, such as a multitool, a small canteen, and a flashlight. Upon her shoulders an unmarked medical kit hung like a backpack, filled with basic supplies. She was no surgeon by any means, but she had learned a few things in her lifetime, especially since she had discovered her magic's healing properties. Other than supplies the dark haired woman deemed necessary, her two obsidian katars remained holstered along her thighs, waiting for their time to shine.

Finally, it was time for the Kingsglaive to get into action. The ramp opened and the sprawling sight of the palace below greeted Saga's dark brown orbs. Nero was chatting away, readying his team for action and prepping them on the use of their gravity deformation gauntlets. She curiously examined the device upon her left forearm and pondered on its safety. Call her old-fashioned, but she much preferred parachutes to these things. At least parachutes had a back-up, whereas if this gauntlet malfunctioned on the way down then she was toast. On the flip side, deploying a gigantic piece of fabric above enemy territory immediately made you a floating target, which was the exact opposite of stealthy, so she supposed that was the benefit of these wrist bound contraptions.

Saga watched as Nero, Gideon, Mirany, and then Dianthe plummet to the earth below before she decided it was her time to dive. Solemnly, she shook her head as she noticed that each of them had forsaken the use of a rebreather, something that could have left them unconscious on the way down due to the altitude they were jumping from. With a sigh, the motherly woman equipped her own mask, a dark grey visor that covered her entire face. It looked very much like a trimmed down gas mask with three protruding ports stored with oxygen. Nothing sexy, just something for safety. Steadying herself, Saga ultimately followed the others and leaped from the aircraft.

She didn't relish the sensation of falling nor the riveting palace that inched closer and closer, merely focusing on the objective at hand. Below, she spotted the guards and the resulting takedowns each of her comrades performed, a quick succession of vicious blows. The woman homed in on the unsuspecting guard to the right of the door they needed to get into. Like a hawk, she swooped down with a frightening amount of velocity, snapping her fingers just as her body angled itself for a proper landing directly in front of the guardsman. The energy field that surrounded the woman slowed her fall enough to render her safe and sound, thankfully. Making landfall in a crouch, the man was deeply surprised by the arrival of an assailant from seemingly nowhere. There was no time for him to react though, as Saga's heavy knee swiftly buried into her prey's nether regions. Before he could cry out in pain, the faceless, grey-masked Saga grabbed him by the throat, slammed him to the ground, and stifled his pleas. Both of his hands flew up in a panicked, vain attempt to pry her fingers away from his throat but to no avail. Her grip was simply too powerful. To hasten the process, her other hand covered his mouth and mercilessly watched as the poor soul fell limp beneath her. Perhaps her assault was a bit excessive, but it got the job done.

Methodically, two of her fingers felt for a pulse along the guard's carotid artery. Though it was weak, he was still alive, if just barely. Breathing a sigh of relief, Saga dusted off her hands and waited to see the last guard finished off, content that no fatalities had occurred yet so far.

B L A I R C L O V E R F I E L D

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Blair merely listened and observed each of her teammates. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact she was now part of this group. She didn't think she could find anyone to trust her life with, let alone a team. Yet here she was, part of something big.

Dianthe was the last one to come in and Blair took notice of the assortment of boxes and bags she had with her. It was only then that Blair caught a whiff of some good smelling food. Dianthe had apparently bought each of them some food varieties. It took Blair a moment to see that Dianthe had purchased her some chocolate covered strawberries, her absolute favorite food. Blair let herself smile a bit as she moved the food closer to her and put one in her mouth. The strawberry was fresh and moist and the chocolate was creamy and melted in your mouth. She was in pure heaven.

"Ah...thanks Dianthe, this was...nice of you." That was all she could muster out. It was more than she gave most people and she was sure Dianthe could pick up on the sincerity of her compliment.

As they ate and Nero outlayed the objective, Blair took careful notes in her head. She scoffed at the mention of being non-lethal. She didn't particularly enjoy killing, but sometimes it had to be done. Nero also brought up the fact they shouldn't resort to their magic. It took Blair a minute to realize she hasn't had the need to do so. She knew the setbacks, the dangers of using her new skills, but she was fascinated by the idea of using her powers. Time and place, she figured. It was a last resort, if that.

As they finished their food, Gideon made a comment about his "kill" count. Blair couldn't help but snicker, "I let you win Gideon, you should know that by now. But since you asked for it, I'll make sure I win this time around."

With that, it was time to depart.

---

Blair didn't enjoy flying. In fact, she hated it. She wouldn't let it show though, but as she sat there with the others she was taking slow, hard breaths trying not to freak out. She watched the others, who appeared more calm and she decided to suck it up. As the others began their descent, she waited until they were all gone before she walked up. "Ok...here we go. Just jump, land, take out some bastards as you go, and we're there. Easy...yeah..easy.." she said to herself. She strapped on her mask and shook her body. Within a few moments, Blair leaped out and began her fall.

She watched the others below her, she was kind of impressed by their abilities. She knew each of them had the training, the skills necessary to get these jobs done, but it still was impressive to see. She knew, deep in the back of her mind, that with her being the youngest, it fell on her to prove her capabilities. Even if she was already part of the team, each mission was a kind of "entrance exam" for her.

She saw the others land and take out a few of the guards on patrol. As she hit near her mark, she noticed the lone guard that was left for her. Non-lethal, that was the key. She neared the man, who noticed his bretheren being felled, but before he could react, Blair was on him with a boot to the face. As she landed, the man fell over, but was not out. Blair quickly got on time of him, "Nighty night," she said and punched the man, knocking him out. To make sure, she checked his pulse and felt his heartbeat. She nodded to herself and stood up, taking off her mask. She looked at the others and gave a small smile, "All right, nicely done."

K I N G S G L A I V E || N e r o S a x o n || P a l a c e o f I v a l i c e || June 27th, 12:01 AM

---

As expected, team synchronization was still impeccable even after six months off the job. The Kingsglaive, under the darkness of the night, descended from the hovering airship above and came down on each patrolling knight at around the same time. The group moved the armored bodies out of the dim moonlight and into shadowed corners of the courtyard before regrouping near the door. Before them, stood the grand Palace of Ivalice. The structure was located in the dead center of the city and was ornate and grandiose as could be. Spires rose to the starry skies in a circle around the main building which was built with a mix of old medieval architecture and something that would be described in an H.P. Lovecraft novel. Advanced technology ran throughout the exterior of the building as well and the Palace stood as the shining achievement of Ivalian construction. Nero stepped towards the small set of stairs before using two fingers to tap the bluetooth headpiece in his ear. His voice echoed within the minds of his fellow team members.

"I'm sure you guys remember these too," He began, an invisible smirk formed beneath his mask, "Luckily the coding was never changed. We'll be able to free communicate with each other while we're inside and no one should be able to intercept the frequency or get passed the encryption... Unless they had another one of us on hand, and what's the chances of anyone else being able to use magic?" Nero softly chuckled and stepped closer to the door. "The plan is simple. If you tap your earpiece twice, the eye panel should pop out and give you the pre-loaded map of this place. The Palace of Ivalice is public record so we'll get a basic idea of how this place is laid out. We'll need to find any evidence of traps or planned conspiracies against Algareth. Should you find anything, use the eye panel to take pictures as we won't be taking anything. We're gonna have to split up though, this place is just too damn big. Dianthe is with me, Gideon is with Blair, and Saga with Mirany. We'll take the library upstairs, you guys can use the map to determine your own searching locations. There's a shit ton of rooms and we gotta check everything. We only have a few hours... Let's do this." Nero turned and faced the door.

He brandished a small tool which distorted the palm scanning pad next to the golden door and after a few seconds the red light flashed green. The door clicked and Nero pushed it open carefully, yet quickly, and the team filed in. The back door brought them into the large, circular main lobby of the Palace. The interior was set up with hallways all around leading to different locations and a spiraling set of wide stairs leading to the upper floors. Nero nodded to Dianthe and the duo, hunched over in the darkness, made a beeline for the spiraling stairs. At the same time, Nero tapped his bluetooth twice and a small grin lens folded out in front of his right eye. The map of the Palace was really a blueprint of the final design back when they first finished the construction. The rest of the team would need to figure out where they wanted to and search there, but also avoid the patrols of knights scattered around the area. There was to be no forced used against anyone in the interior though stealth had never been a problem for the Kingsglaive.

The problem they were yet to face loomed in a quiet, secret area of the Palace not shown on the blueprint. It would be of a magnitude no one was expecting.

D I A N T H E S A R R I S & N E R O S A X O N June 27th, 12:01 AM P a l a c e o f I v a l i c e

---

During her first year as a member of Kingsglaive, Dianthe can remember how anxious she had been. Heartbeat racing, palms sweating, and unable to handle the pressures that each mission held. Now a three year veteran, the princess no longer held such uncertainty, and unlike before, her heartbeat stayed calm and her breathing seemed to almost be absent. She had learned over a short amount of time to overcome such self-doubt, realizing her own confidence just like she had done in her years under the Royal Guard. It was only then that Dianthe flourished, now using her full potential from years of experience as she followed Nero and the others into the Palace of Ivalice. Mind quiet and eyes locked on Nero as he explained another familiar device before going on to the blueprint located within their bluetooth, Dianthe gave her full attention to their Leader as further instructions were laid out.

Splitting up into pairs, Dianthe stayed crouched as she followed behind Nero to the stairs. As huge as the Palace was outside, the interior seemed to be even bigger. Flora's own Palace seemed so little in comparison, but that only made Dianthe more curious to see just what hid behind the doors of Ivalice. So as they began up the staircase, the redhead clicked open the green tint lens and took in the Palace blueprints. "I don't understand the need for so many levels, but the Library is located on the twentieth floor." She echoed to Nero, her finger holding down the bluetooth as she continued crouched up the staircase behind him.

Dianthe's voice came through loud and clear in Nero's head. He audibly, yet quietly, groaned as she delivered the sour news that the duo would have to head to the twentieth floor. Even in these modern times, architects still thought that the meaning of grandiose meant verticality. To that revelation, Nero stopped at the top of the landing to the second floor and stood fully. His gaze shifted from one side to the next as he spotted singular knights pacing across the marbled floors with considerable distance between them. Just as the main lobby, the upper floors were all built in a giant circle with doors and hallways branching off into unknown places. This particular floor held only two knights on either side of the area. They seemed to be slowly pacing in half circles around the entire floor in alternate directions, simultaneously. That meant two things; there was nothing of importance on the second floor of the Palace and it would be easy enough to sneak passed them. As luck would have it, Nero also spotted a familiar design on the blueprint. "Screw twenty floors, we're gonna hit the elevator shaft," He echoed in Dianthe's mind.

Crouching low once more, he took a quick look around before spotting grey set of metal doors with a small pad next to them on the wall - it had to be the elevator, but they would need to time their movements correctly to pry open the doors and slip through unnoticed. Knowing that his partner would take his lead, Nero carefully made his way onto the floor and hugged the wall right as the knight on it turned to walk in the opposite direction. The elevator was located on the other wall with the other guard and that one was just turning to walk away from it.

The woman's calves could have thanked her commander for his decision to take the elevator. Rock climbing, free running, and sky diving had never been a problem, but stairs were her all around enemy -- and twenty stories sounded worse then hell. Without complaints, Dianthe gave Nero a small nod as they reached the second floor. Staying low on the stairs and watching the other rooms and hallways located on the closer stories, Dianthe's attention returned to Nero as soon as he moved. Hugging the wall beside him as the Guard on their wall turned away from them, the woman held her breath as she watched the other Guard on the opposite wall trudge lazily away from the elevator. They needed to act fast, and considering time wasn't on their side, the redhead took lead knowing exactly what needed to be done. Staying low and confident that Nero would follow her lead just like she had done, Dianthe hurried to opposite wall beside the elevator while watching the Guard continue to walk away from them. Placing both of her gloved hands at the center of the door, she released a calming breath through her nostrils as she readied herself to pry open the elevator with Nero's aid.

Following Dianthe after mere moments, Nero scurried across the darkened floor and arrived only a few seconds behind his waiting partner. Without even a confirming glance, Nero stuck his fingers in the small slit where the metal doors met and, with Dianthe's help, pulled the doors apart just enough for one person to fit through. They were going to have to climb the shaft by hand since they obviously couldn't call the elevator down. Nero followed in after Dianthe and as she began to ascend the cables using a specially built automatic rope ascension tool, he closed the doors once more and began his own ascension with a quiet whirring sound from his own gauntlet launched tool.



The Library used to be referred to as the archive, but it was renamed after it was shuttered to the public and moved to the twentieth floor. The Palace opened its entire ground floor to the public during certain hours, but the library had become so expansive that the decision was made to move it and use it as a means to store sensitive information as well. It was a large room with red and gold carpeting on the ground and chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling overhead. Shelves of books rose toward the ceiling and each aisle of bookshelves hosted its own super-tall ladder for the probable means of a librarian to easily care for and search books. The rows of bookshelves were set up in two columns if one were to be looking from a bird's eye view while small tables with numerous documents stacked on top ran down the middle of the columns. The Library was actually a highly guarded room, but the Kingsglaive members had been able to work their way inside.

Once the heavy wooden doors were closed behind them, Nero put two fingers on his bluetooth. "Well... Here we are. Guess we should spread out and start looking. I'm not exactly sure what we're looking for here, but we've got time to comb through a good chunk of this place," He echoed in Dianthe's head.

The smell of leather refined books and dust filled her senses as she crept in to the Library behind Nero. The massive space and elaborate decor had forced Dianthe's neck to crane back as she took in the expensive chandelier hanging at the center of the room, and had it not been for the mission, she would have felt bad stepping on the vibrant red and gold carpet. Nero's voice was quick to pull her attention back in to focus, and with little more than a nod Dianthe headed down the columns to inspect the stacked documents sitting out in the open. It was unlikely that she'd fine anything among the stacked documents, but one would never be sure without checking.

Rifling through the documents and laying them out just as they were arranged to avoid visible changes, Dianthe skimmed through the words on each page looking for anything that could be directed at or involving Algareth. Treaty documents, structural blueprints involving Ivalice government buildings, along with documents regarding the Kingdoms tax information was within the first stack of papers. Nothing really of interest, but Dianthe hadn't even moved to the second table yet. Picking up the first page on the top of the second stack of documents, a small smile graced the redheads lips as she read the pamphlet. "Ivalice Summer Festival, hm?" Finger on the bluetooth, Dianthe's playful tone echoed out to Nero as she continued. "As a native to Ivalice, are the festivals as fun as this flyer makes them out to be? Cause' I'm not sure if I can handle counterintelligence and false advertisement all in one day."

Nero had not thought of Ivalice as home in a long time. At Dianthe's question, a nervous half-chuckle leaked out before the man took a moment to think. "Well... " Nero began, clearing this thought and temporary jitters, "You know Ivalice. Everything they do is some kind of event. The summer festivals are actually some of my better memories. I would sneak out of my place and just walk the streets and look at all the damn decorations and booths. It seemed like they spent so much money to impress the foreigners visiting. I was always in awe-" Nero stopped and fell silent for a moment before he seemed to come to some kind of epiphany. He continued to comb shelves of books as he spoke. "Speaking of awe... Aren't you from the 'Kingdom in the Sky'? Heh, I didn't even think it was real for awhile."

Knowing little of her Commanders past, it was almost amusing to hear the nostalgia in Nero's voice as he spoke of the festival in his home country. Of all the places and continents she had travelled, Ivalice had not been one of them. Interested in hearing more and getting a better visual from his perspective, a soft audible chuckle rumbled from Dianthe's chest as Nero turned the question around on her, "Well, you wouldn't be the first to think that." Pondering on her years in Flora, Dianthe skimmed through a small folder within the stack of documents before laying it down once she was sure nothing of significance was within it. "Flora's summer festival isn't too bad. Lots of singing, and dancing, and drinking."

Moving to the next table, Dianthe began to shuffle through another stack of papers as she continued to talk about her home, "It usually lasts a week, but my father and grandfather would stay absolutely wasted for the entire duration of the festival. I was never old enough to join in on their fun, and as the princess I was supposed to stay reserved and lady-like." A scowl had pulled across her lips as she shook her head to rid herself of less than fond memories, "But once my father was too drunk to walk straight I would always wonder off. Check out the vendors myself, join in on the dancing. All that jazz."

Nero stopped at one of the tables at the end of an aisle of shelves and began to leaf through the documents. There really was not much here. His face wrinkled and a small sigh echoed through the mask in disappointment. The definition of a successful operation varied when it came to the Kingsglaive and at this particular moment, Nero and Dianthe were having no success. Some of the documents were kind of interesting though - of course, not half as interesting as Dianthe's little revelation. "A princess? My memory can be pretty bad, but just how long have I not known that we've had royalty on the team? And a princess who drinks? Man, this world truly is progressive." Particularly dangerous missions of the past replayed in Nero's memory as he thought about his partner being a princess. He visibly grimaced a bit as all manner of punishment that flashed at the thought of anything happening to her.

Cheeks growing red and movement coming to a halt, Dianthe silently cursed herself as she realized she had just blown her own cover. As the commander of Kingsglaive, the redhead had assumed he was aware of her title or real surname upon her joining the unit. The again Dianthe knew Nero wasn't the true head of Kingsglaive, either. "Guess the cat's out of the bag... " With that final echo and a nervous laugh, the redhead shook her head in frustration and focused on the mission, ready for the conversation to change or end altogether.

Her luck on finding any clues within the mountain of documents was coming up short as well, and already frustrated, Dianthe couldn't help but make an audible groan. "I'm not having any luck here. Just crap piled on top of more crap." Dropping another folder full of nothing, Dianthe clicked open the map of Ivalice as she checked out the other areas. "Should we head to another floor, or go for another room?"

Nero checked a digital watch built into his gauntlet and shook his head. "We've already been here for half an hour and not a damn thing," Nero clicked open his own map and gazed at it for a moment, "I guess we'll have to move on then. We'll just check the adjacent rooms and hope for the best. We don't have time to be picky," He said, finally admitting defeat. The Library had been full of nothing useful, but that in itself was not a bad thing. The fact that it seemed like Ivalice truly intended to have peaceful negotiations with Algareth was the best outcome possible. In a way, the Kingsglaive failing this mission would have been for the best. With a nod to Dianthe, Nero headed towards the doors followed closely by the newly revealed princess. No sooner did he place a stack of documents on a random desk he passed did a loud click and grinding of gears break the silence of the darkened room. A massive shelf against the wall slowly slid to the left side, revealing a small doorway connected to a long, dark corridor. Nero grinned.

"Looks like this wasn't a complete waste after all." He motioned to Dianthe and turned to head into the corridor.

B L A I R C L O V E R F I E L D & G I D E O N C A R R A H Y

---

Gideon set a slightly faster, more casual pace than his contemporaries did as they entered into the palace. Gideon listened with half of his brain as Nero rattled off their orders and split the group into teams, the other half idly examining the map of the grounds provided by his earpiece. When at long last his commander was done talking, Gideon tapped his earpiece and motioned Blair to follow him. "We'll take the kitchens and the servants quarters, check for poison, conspiracy, strange looking personnel, or anything out of the order in your average aristocratic cesspool. Come along, dear, we ought not tarry." He set off walking briskly, pausing only once to check if Blair was following.

Blair didn't mind being with Gideon, out of all of her team she was one of the ones that got the least on her nerves. That was a feat in and of itself. She tapped her earpiece to study the map again before putting it away and followed Gideon. Though she didn't enjoy use of the term "dear" she let it slide this one time. "I never understood why people had servants. Is it that hard to serve yourself food or clean up after yourself?" She rolled her eyes in contempt as they entered the first room.

"Oh, it's dreadfully difficult," replied Gideon as he pushed through the servant's door behind her into the kitchen, quickly setting about rummaging through cabinets for anything overtly suspicious. "You've got to get into the head of an aristocrat. Never done an honest day's work in your life, never intend to - your sole goal in life is to preen and prance and impress so that you can marry well and die fat." The soldier made a show of shuddering at the notion. "Of course you're not going to do any of the washing - might mess up your pretty hands."

Gideon picked up an apple from a nearby counter and tossed it from one hand to the other before taking a bite of it. He chewed reflectively for a moment, then swallowed. "Well, this one's not poisonous."

Gideon's description of aristocratic life sounded painfully dull to her. She kept silent as they searched, finding nothing out of ordinary in the kitchen. "Rather than taste testing every apple there, let's assume that if the ones within easy reach aren't poisonous, none of them are." She opened the side door that led to a hallway towards the servants quarters, checking for patrols. She didn't expect to see anyone, since she doubted the guards patrolled the servants area. Assuming anyone gave a care at all, she felt like the servants were looking out for themselves.

"You almost sound like you've been there, done that before."

"Works for me," Gideon said, tossing the apple over his shoulder into a bin. "Let's give the servant's quarters a once-over for suspicious... things, then link back up with the others." He followed after his partner, striding quickly through the hallways so as to avoid appearing any more suspicious than he already did. "Of course I have. The Carrahy line is one of the most respected families in all of Teirland. It is the life I would have led, had I not proved... uncooperative."

Gideon stepped into the first of the servant's bunkrooms, cramped affairs with up to ten beds a room. "Ugh. Despicable conditions, the poor bastards. Check the beds, I'll look in the desks."

Blair began checking the beds. There was almost nothing of note, which was sad in its own way. There were almost no personal objects and they all looked the same. Like the same person was sleeping in each bed. Were they clones?

Blair did find the odd journal, personal jewelry, and all that, but nothing that stood out as anything useful in their mission. She was giving Gideon's words more thought. She thought back to her old life with her family. Would they have been considered Aristocracy? She didn't know. They lived a comfortable life, had money, power, she imagined, and a decent sized home. They didn't have servants though, but she guessed it could be argued that the soldiers under her father's authority were servants in their own right. And her mother taught her students and ruled over them, in a way.

She shook her head. No, she wasn't like these people. She wasn't like her old life. "I didn't know that about you. How did you become uncooperative?"

Gideon found nothing in the desks or wardrobes of interest, save a few personal letters that made him feel a bit bad for reading them. This whole affair was bringing back unpleasant memories of his youth, and all the merry exploitation he'd unwittingly been a part of. He'd be glad to be shut of this place. "Oh, you know, I started being myself. Offending family friends, making scenes at dinner parties, beating up vaunted heirs of rich households, you know. What's more, there was a woman they were intent on my marrying; a dreadful creature. I wouldn't hear of it. I suppose they shipped me off to the academy mainly just to be rid of me."

He straightened his back and dropped the letter he'd been skimming. "You'd understand that, though. Military family, right? Different city, but it's the same everywhere. Suppose we head into the next room? There's nothing going on here save some particularly scandalous gossip about one of the washing-girls."

Blair nodded and proceeded into the next room. It seemed like a communal recreational area, for the servant's off hours. There was a small kitchen, a sitting area, some tables, but otherwise nothing of serious note. She went in, you never know.

"I never really gave it much thought. I suppose it is the same. However, I don't believe my family planned on marrying me off to anyone. They mainly wanted us to be good at fighting. If you were good, you got their attention. If you didn't, they didn't notice you." She closed her eyes and clenched her fists upon remembering it. She was torn between the hatred she had for her parents and the lifestyle they led, but also knowing that they did care, in their own way, for their children's well-being. No one is perfect.

She checked out the kitchen. It wasn't as stocked as the other one, but she noticed a note sticking out of the back of one of the cabinets. She picked it up and read it. It was a simple scribble that read "A, meet me in our usual place. You know the drill. -X". She held up the note, "Found something. Not sure what to make of it, but perhaps we'll find some more information as we continue our search. Don't suppose the letters mention an A or an X do they?"

Gideon wandered around the recreational area, poking and prodding and checking under things and generally feeling slightly ridiculous. He'd been under the impression that the Kingsglaive were meant to do the impossible, not poke around pool tables for clues. He furrowed his brow slightly at Blair's description of her circumstances. "That's a bit rough, I suppose. Doubt you ever had any trouble with that, though - you're a proper firecracker." It was exceptionally rare for Gideon to make a kind word about anyone's prowess other than his own, but he was sincere; though he doubted she'd be a match for him, she was still one of the most capable warriors he'd encountered, (though being a literal firecracker probably helped with that.)

He strode over to Blair and examined the note for a second. "Huh. No, can't say they did. I would say that that definitely qualifies as 'suspicious', though it's probably just regular palace cloak and dagger stuff. Still worth bringing to the old man."

There was a noise from the hallway - heavy footfalls of a booted man. Gideon tapped his earpiece and sent a message to Blair. "Someone's coming. Better hide."

Blair appreciated the compliment, but felt a little weird at hearing it. As long as she's known Gideon, she didn't hear him compliment many people. He usually was boastful about himself. She put the note away for later, you never knew what would be useful information to have.

Before she could respond to his observation, he blipped her with the warning. A place to hide? Here? There wasn't a whole lot. She opted for the tried and true way of hiding: in the closet. She pushed herself in and neared the back of it as best she could. She managed to conceal herself behind some cloaks and tools, but it was a tight squeeze. She held her breath and waited for the steps to either pass, or enter their room.

Gideon looked left and right frantically as Blair climbed into the closet. It was a good hiding spot, but it was only going to fit one of them, and unless he wanted to cling to the bottom of the pool table, there weren't any other spots in the room he could reach that'd be likely to conceal him. The door cracked open and Gideon was still standing in the middle of the room. On an impulse, he ripped off his mask.

The man that stepped in was old and gruff-looking, dressed from the neck down in the armor of an Ivalice guard. He barely made it two steps into the room before he was confronted by an incredulous Gideon. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing in here?" the young man shouted at the guard in a well-practiced 'angry aristocrat' voice.

"I-I was just makin' my rounds. Who the devil are -"

"Who the devil am I? You don't recognize Head Inspector Godor when you see him? My picture's on the wall in the damn guard's lounge, and yet you don't know who I am?"

"I... I never heard of no Head Inspector...." The confrontation was clearly leaving the guard less and less certain of his own position, and he mumbled his words while looking down at the floor with the inescapable sensation that he'd done something wrong.

"What, is there anything you do know? Your wing is in a goddamn state, let me tell you. My partner and I were able to waltz all over without being seen, and you didn't even recognize that she's in the room? Disgrace to the nation. Isabelle, my dear, come out here and tell the man what he's doing wrong." Gideon turned to look pointedly at the closet.

Blair had to give him credit, Gideon was able to think quick on his feet. In wasn't until he decided to include her in on the act that she actually grew worried. She was NOT an actor. She preferred to punch people and be sassy than pretend to be something else. Yet, she was called into the spot. She gave a short huff as she took off her mask. She stood up, well as far up as she could in the closet, sighed, and walked out.

The Guard was flimsy in appearance. Really, it was quite sad. She adopted the best Aristocrat voice she could muster, and pointed a finger at the Guard, "Really now! It's quite sad to see you guards missing the most obvious of hiding places. All one has to do is hide in the bleedin' closet and they can get away with anything. Such shoddy work. I have half a mind to report you. What is your name, imbecile?" She felt weird doing this, but oddly enough, she found herself enjoying it. If for no other reason that to make the man pee himself.

The man, now berated from both angles, quailed under the assault. "Uh... uh... my name's Thomas, m'am... I swear it, I, I'll always check in the closets now. I never slacked off a day in my life..."

Gideon made a disgusted noise and shoved the man in the chest. "Goddamn disgrace. You're not fit to guard a sewer, let alone the Queen's damn palace. Report to my office for disciplinary action immediately. Wait with your thumb up your ass as long as it takes us to show up. Am I clear?"

"Y-yes sir. B-but... I don't know where your office..."

Gideon grabbed the man by the shoulders and shook him. "What the hell else don't you know, your mother's name? Bloody well FIND IT!"

"Yes, sir!" Thomas saluted hastily and left, almost sprinting out the doors. Gideon cracked a wide grin and turned to his companion, clapping his hands together smugly.

"That was fun. Ought to do it more often. Now, then, I'd say it's about time we got on with things?"

Blair kept the stoic face as the man bumbled about. As the man left, tail between his legs, she let out a long breath she was holding. Much to her amusement, she enjoyed herself. She even let a smile smile crack its way through. "That was...interesting, to say the least. Thanks so much for including me in that charade." she said with sarcasm. She looked around the room one more time before she walked toward the door, "I think that's all for this room. Let's move onward. I wonder where Thomas is going to end up."

Ophelia S Y N D E N D A L E || Palace of Ivalice || June 27th - 11:57 PM

---

"Uh... I kind of forgot that I was on rounds today."

"...What?"

"No one told me that I was on rounds today. So.. I haven't gone down to check or anything..."

There was a tense pause. The five men in the room could practically hear the volcanic lava bubbling up within their quick-tempered leader.

"Are you shitting me right now?"

Ophelia Syndendale straightened herself up to her full height, still perched on the edge of the table in the middle of the room. Gone was the warm smile only reserved for the Queen and - usually - this group of assholes, who at first had doubted her abilities to lead as a woman. But after eight years of being under her command, those notions were long dispelled, and they were all on the same page. Or so she thought.

The solders were spread in a semi-circle around her, standing at attention, although the atmosphere in the meeting room had been generally relaxed until now.

"What do you mean, 'you didn't know you were on rounds'?"

Caspian, the man who was currently fucking right up, was standing right across from her, locked in the crosshairs of her gaze. The men on either side of him were shifting uncomfortably, averting their own eyes to some interesting specs of dust on the ceiling and walls. There were a few moments of a silent show down between the two before the man broke from his poker face. He threw up his hands in surrender just in time to stop her as she slid herself from the table and took a menacing step in his direction. "I'm just kidding, Lia, it's a joke. I'm kidding," he blurted out, his face cracking into a huge, albeit nervous smile. The guys around him also began chuckling softly, affirming that he was indeed just messing around with her.

The Knight General's would-be hurricane of hurt deflated; she took a moment to close her eyes and exhale through her nostrils before twisting around to grab the soda can she'd just recently emptied, hurling it towards her second hand man and narrowly missing his head as he ducked to the side. His eyes were wide with adrenaline as they darted from the can to his predator, who was pushing the hair that had fallen in front of her shoulders back behind them.

"You know, one day I'm going to figure out how to get you guys back. You all should be sleeping with one eye open at this point."

Her tone and expression were serious, but the group knew the threat wasn't really a threat. Pulling her chain every once in a blue moon was the only way the guys could retaliate for her hard-assery, and Ophelia liked them enough to let them have their fun every once in a while.

Smirking at his little victory, Caspian bent down to scoop up the crushed can and toss it in the nearby receptacle. "I've done my job, don't worry. Everything's fine, mam."

Ophelia rolled her eyes. Gathering her rusted golden cigarette case from the table, she strode towards the double doors, jokingly shoving Caspian at the shoulder as she passed him. "Seriously, though. Don't fuck with me," she half sang, lifting a finger to waggle at them without looking back. "The Queen trusts us completely, and I'm not about to let her down just because you want to try and spite me."

Cas shrugged his shoulders over his ears like a dog with its tail between his legs, though he was still grinning as he took the seat that she had just vacated. The General glanced back and the two shared a little smile before Ophelia pushed open the exit. "See you later, boys." She nodded at the rest of them before turning on her heel and heading to her room.


The large moon shone down on a very neat studio space on the west side of the Palace, illuminating the balcony on which Ophelia was currently having a smoke. Soft music from that 1940s era that seemed to color everything in her life was playing from hidden speakers, creating some cinematic scene from a movie she's probably never seen.

Inhale. Exhale.

Tendrils of purple smoke curled up before her face, appearing to be lavender from the light of the nightly orb. It was a lovely evening, and though Ophelia rarely stopped to appreciate much for its beauty, she couldn't deny it. The breeze was just right, the sounds of traffic below were barely noticeable, and the bourbon she was occasionally sipping on certainly hitting a spot.

And still, even with this perfect evening ahead of her, she couldn't shake the weirdest sensation that something was not right. Perhaps it was because of the prank her men had pulled on her, but there was some strange paranoia building up at the back of her neck. She wholly trusted the group, especially Caspian, and wouldn't question him if he said that he was only joking about neglecting his duties. Of course he would never do that. He knew the kind of wrath she'd bring down on him if he ever slipped under her jurisdiction. And with the meeting of the two kingdoms only two days away, they could afford no mistakes.

She swung her legs down from the little table they were resting on and stood up, stubborn as always. It wouldn't hurt to do another round of checks, just in case.

Stubbing out the stick, she took the glass and her cigarette case inside with her and placed it on the counter before moving towards the cabinet that held her large broadsword and shield, both much too large for her to conceivably wield with ease. Yet she grabbed the heavy blade with too much ease, sliding it into its sheath at her waist, before swinging the shield into its place on her back. The golden handle of the sword and the shield, both of which mirrored the rustic design of her cigarette case, glinted loyally every time light from the moon touched them through the glass wall of the balcony.

Ophelia exited her room, locking the door behind her with a scan of her wristband, which she then glanced at to check the time. She strode towards the grand stairwell, and while doing so, she reached a finger up to touch the earpiece camouflaged to look just like the skin of her ear. "Cas, I'm going down to do a check. If I find out you weren't joking around about earlier, I'm going to make you personally responsible for containing that shit show." Beginning her descent down the stairs, a ghost of a smirk appeared on her face as she removed her finger from contact with the earpiece.

S A G A F U L C R O S S & M I R A N Y C R A W F O R D P a l a c e o f I v a l i c e

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Mirany listened intently to Nero’s plan, tapping her earpiece to see the map just as he mentioned it. She scanned the map as she listened, realizing just how much ground they had to cover in only a few hours. It was daunting, she thought, but doable. They had done more in less time, she remembered, allowing herself a small, secret grin.

The plan of action established, Nero hacked open the door and led his team inside. Mirany stepped lightly inside the doorway, checking in all directions for signs of any more guards, just in case. As Nero and Dianthe made their way quickly for the spiraling staircase, she turned to Saga and used her earpiece to speak to her.

“I think it would be best to start from the bottom and work our way up to the others. What do you think?”

At Mirany’s words, Saga gave a curt nod in agreement. There was plenty of space underground, and it seemed like the logical place to start. Every villain had a secret underground lair after all, if movies were to be believed. Of course, the palace was huge, so it wouldn’t surprise her if the cellar just ended up holding bottles of fancy wine. ”At the very least, we’ll find a nice bottle of chardonnay and have ourselves a good time.” she told her partner jokingly before taking the lead.

Studying the map that blipped over her eye, Saga noticed that the nearby stairs and the main elevator seemed disconnected from the basement. It was a strange design choice that definitely drew suspicion. In fact, the only way down was a separate flight of stairs on the other side of the palace. ”Hope you’re wearing your hiking boots, Mir. Looks like we’ve got some distance between us and the objective.”

Mirany smirked at Saga’s quips, but otherwise ignored them. She was all business tonight. However, deep down she appreciated the joking. Mirany knew she could be a bit too serious when on the job, but she couldn’t help it--being distracted meant she could make a mistake. And her mistakes not only cost her, but anyone around her; she knew that from experience. She preferred to leave the levity to her teammates.

She and Saga began making their way quickly, but quietly, through the palace, being sure to step lightly and make no noise with their footfall. Mirany peered around corners before they made their way across the halls while Saga kept her eye on the map. Only one pair of guards interrupted their passage. Mirany spun and pointed Saga toward a nearby alcove that housed a large statue of a horse, of all things, behind which the women hid until the men passed.

As they walked, Mirany offered no conversation beyond that pertaining to their mission, as was typical of her.

”Those two are packing some heat...” Saga commented as she hunkered down and watched the guards pass. Each of them carried handheld railguns nearly as tall as themselves, not to mention the massive hand cannons in the holsters at their waists. Glancing at the map, she noted that they were headed the same way herself and Mirany were and quickly assumed they were just part of the guard they’d find closer to the entrance. A grimace spread behind her faceless mask. Any wrong move and the two of them were going to be blown to unrecognizable bits. At least she felt like they were on the right track to discovering something.

Her dark eyes studied the corridor, trying to devise a better plan of action than charging straight into death. The only thing that really drew her attention were a series of vents along the wall. Thinking about it, the two of them were small enough to fit through them. Wagering to risk it, Saga’s form burst from the shadow of the statue when the guards had vanished from sight. Glad she carried her multitool with her, the woman quickly went to work on the vent’s screws and pried the metal cover off easily. ”This seems like a better path down after seeing those guards. The corridor doesn’t get much wider either, so we’re just begging to be found if we keep going.” she explained to her companion.

Getting down on her hands and knees, Saga crawled into the claustrophobia-inducing space. There was nothing but darkness in front of her, but, once again, she was prepared for such a situation. In another pocket, her hands brought out a flashlight and illuminated the ever expanding ventilation shaft. ”Feel free to comment on how nice my ass looks.” With that, their journey to the palace’s lower levels began.

As soon as there was space enough for her, Mirany slipped out from behind the statue. She thought for a moment, and then hastily stashed the vent cover behind the enormous horse, thinking that the wide-open vent would attract less attention without its own cover right beside it. Slightly reassured, she knelt down and slid herself neatly into the vent. She rolled her eyes at Saga’s admittedly well-formed backside. ”I really hope no one notices an open ventilation shaft.”

The shuffle along the duct was not as fast as Mirany would have liked, and she was certain Saga would agree, but it was the best they could do. The women dragged themselves along at as quickly as they could manage in the tight space without making too much noise. Mirany found herself compulsively checking her watch, and scolded herself for the useless worrying. Dwelling on the time would do her no good. She’d check it again when they had reached the basement.

Several times, the vent angled downward, and the women were able to simply slide for a bit, which sped up their progress considerably. Mirany was surprised to realize she was slowly beginning to enjoy herself. She felt an odd mixture of relief and excitement--the team was back together, on another mission. It was strange; she didn’t normally miss seeing other people so much until she was already surrounded by them.

Her introversion was interrupted by their arrival in the palace basement. Mirany hopped out from the high opening after Saga and looked around. They appeared to have emerged into a random storage room, which she was sure was by Saga’s design, as she had been in the lead. She looked at her watch. Their passage-by-vent had taken them twenty minutes. Not ideal, but not bad.

“Alright. I suggest we split up so we can cover more ground. Why don’t you search this room while I go next door?”

Saga sure was glad they had exited at a prime location. The map didn’t give much indication about the ventilation system, so this had really been a shot in the dark. In reality, they could have ended up anywhere down here. Wouldn’t it have been embarrassing if they crawled out right into the feet of a guardsman? She hated to think about the repercussions of a scenario such as that. The dimly lit storage room seemed basic enough: lots of boxes littered the walls, a few shelves held glass beakers and other knick knacks, and a couple sealed, metal barrels sat out in the open. Interestingly though, a foul odor hung in the air, almost like something was decomposing. Whether or not it was coming from this room or another… Saga couldn’t tell.

”Sure, I’ll take the easy job. I can’t imagine they’d keep anything interesting in here though. Just ring if you need me.” she replied to Mirany’s suggestion. Knowing the woman could handle herself, Saga proceeded to walk over to the shelves to take a look at the research equipment they stored here. Some of these beakers had a viscous fluid inside of them, almost akin to maple syrup but a dark lavender color, while some contained a liquid that stank of sulfur. Judging just from these flasks and beakers, she was willing to wager that the basement harbored some kind of science facility. However, she could only be certain after she explored more of the basement and found more concrete evidence.

Saga considered procuring a vial of the liquids, but thought it best not to. The last thing she wanted to be doing was crawling around with a potentially dangerous substance kept in a glass container. Moving on to the boxes, she silently peeked into them, but only found more tubes, flasks, and other science mumbo jumbo which were all empty. Sighing, the woman figured this room was a bust. All that was left were those metal barrels, which she dreaded opening on account of the noise it was bound to make. ”So far nothing on this end, Mir. Just a bunch of science crap. Anything on your end?” Mirany never was much of a talker, so the dead silence thus far hadn’t surprise her.

Mirany had sneaked out the door of the storage room and into the room immediately opposite it. She was intrigued to discover a small laboratory spread out before her. A few rows of long, white tables ran the length of the room, each equipped with its own microscope, sink, and other various technological tools that she didn’t recognize. Along the wall across from the door, high shelves reached for the ceiling. She decided to inspect the various labeled vials that were housed there. The labels read things like “TRIAL 1A” and “TRIAL 36C”. There were dozens of them, all different colors, ranging from brackish gray to bright neon green. Lined up on the wall to her right were a few computers and a printer. Mirany strode over to the printer and picked up a sheet from the output tray. She scanned the document, which seemed to describe research conducted on the magic crystals which powered hand cannons--the palace scientists were trying to create massive explosives, the kind that could wipe out cities. While this information was fairly alarming, she doubted it was direct evidence of a hostile move against Algareth. She decided to take a picture of it anyway.

Saga’s query interrupted her as she was laying the documents out on one of the tables to photograph with her eye piece. She continued with her task as she replied.

”Yes, actually. It looks like Ivalice is working on weapons of mass destruction. It’s not a smoking gun, but I figured it’s worth noting, so I’m snapping some pictures right now.”

When Mirany had finished, she replaced the documents to their rightful place and met Saga in the hallway. The pair carefully searched each room, finding no other people, which didn’t surprise Mirany as she couldn’t imagine Ivalice’s scientists working so late into the night; and since the entrance to the basement was so heavily guarded, there was no need for a patrol in these halls. They found a few more documents describing experiments with the crystals, but none seemed any more conclusive than the first one Mirany found, so they took pictures, but without much excitement.

As the two women returned to the vent they had crawled down from, Mirany mulled over all they had seen. It was interesting, and worth knowing, but it still wasn’t incriminating. Mirany took the lead this time, and hoisted herself up into the vent to make the return to the ground floor.

Saga made sure to try and relay their findings to Nero and the rest of the team as they clambered back into vents. "A bit of WMD research going down in the basements, but nothing you wouldn't expect from Ivalice. Could just be routine military development. Worst part is there's no wine down there, so no chardonnay for us girls tonight, it looks like." Saga quipped, dragging herself through the darkness before her. While she was addressing them all, she might as well figure out what the others had discovered, if anything. Not to mention, now would be a great time to scratch some areas off their map. "Status report on everyone? Mirany and I are headed back to ground level through the vents. I'm sure Mir has grown real found of my ass now on account of how long she's had to stare at it."

K I N G S G L A I V E || C y r u s || A l g a r e t h S p i r e || June 27th, 12:55 AM

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"That's right... Do not concern yourself with what's going on presently. The point is that everything is on schedule." Cyrus adjusted his glasses as he gazed at the painting on the wall. The piece was set in a grand, hand-crafted frame that glinted golden hues in the rays of moonlight. It took up most of the left wall of the moderately-sized office, but the size made it easily seen from the center desk on top of which the vice president of Algareth sat. Even in the darkness of the room - and with the dim moonlight providing a soft glow - the colors of the painting stood out with greens, browns, blues, and beige, each distinctly swirling together to create a still moment in time. The depiction was meant to be an interpretation of a scene from the mythical Great War. It was a scene that always seemed to inspire the VP and he smirked at it as he continued his bluetooth conversation.

"Schedule? Sheeiiit... I couldn't care less about any god damn schedule," a rough and burly voice echoed. Cyrus sighed, but not audibly enough for the man on the other end to hear.

"We will adhere to the schedule in that case as well. It is not a matter of procuring the thing you want, but rather waiting until the agreed upon time frame."

The man was silent. Cyrus grinned to himself.

"That's the answer I expected. Now then, make sure you and your compatriots are ready. It shouldn't be longer than an hour now." Cyrus clicked his bluetooth and hung up immediately after finishing before returning to the large chair situated behind the desk. His office held the same full-wall window as the president's suite though not quite as long. He swiveled around and took look out over the cityscape. "This... This is the only way," he assured himself.

K I N G S G L A I V E || Nero S a x o n || P a l a c e o f I v a l i c e || June 27th, 12:55 AM

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The hall seemed to go on forever. Nero and Dianthe accidentally stumbled into a secret passage within the library, but the only thing they had found so far was the world's longest corridor. The area was small and tight with just enough room for the duo to walk side by side with a scant amount of space between them. Rectangular lights automatically brightened on both sides of the wall and the tunnel seemed to be constructed in an arch sort of design with the ceiling close enough for the commander to touch if he outstretched his arm. As no one else had followed them, the pair walked upright rather than creeping though. Nero sighed as the only thing ahead were more lights and more arch. "Good lord," he complained, "Who the hell even decided to build something like this? It's even throwing off my sense of direction. Even though we've only been going forward, I swear to goodness it feels like we've been walking down a slight hill or something, shit." A tap to the earpiece brought out the green-tinted lens and a map of the area. Of course, the secret passage was nowhere to be found. Nero sighed heavily and tapped again to dismiss the lens.

The two finally came to a door after what seemed like an eternity. Strangely enough, it was a primitive kind of door with no keypad next to it - only a rusted doorknob was built into the aging wood. "Talk about retro, I never thought doors like this actually existed," Nero quipped. With a glance over to Dianthe, the commander tested the knob and it turned without burden - unlocked. The door opened with a creak and a regurgitation of dust. They were not prepared for what they saw. The duo walked into the room in shock and disbelief. Bright lights popped to life in a large, circular fixture hanging high above ground level while the metal floor rang out with each step the Kingsglaive members took. Machinery and computers were lined against the walls indicating that the entire area seemed to have been built around the massive centerpiece. In the center was an extremely tall, cylindrical tank with all kinds of thickened bundles of wires and tubes attached to purposefully placed metallic components built into the sides while the tank itself reached up to meld with the equally high ceiling. Within the the tank, massive chains attached to different heights on the sides held down a giant, humanoid being in a kneeling position. Its eyes were closed and its bald head lowered as if it were bowing to someone. The body was brown with some sort of artistic design comprised of beige lines running down limbs, across the torso, and around features of the face. Even the musculature was eerily human with definition and bulk befitting of a giant bodybuilder.

Nero stared in disbelief and Dianthe remained silent in that moment. "Team... Make your way to the location I'm going to blip on the map asap. I... I think we found our smoking gun..." Nero quietly said, tapping his earpiece as he tried to reconcile the reality of the situation unfolding before him. Despite not finding documents or evidence that Ivalice was lying in wait to ambush Algareth in some way, the mission could only be declared a success. Nero and Dianthe had stumbled upon a humongous weapon of mass destruction hiding within the Royal Palace of Ivalice.

The duo were staring at a dormant Behemoth.

Mirany heard the slight alarm in Nero’s voice as he summoned the team to his location. Immediately she pressed the button to view the map, scanning hurriedly until she found the point. Saga exchanged a worried look with her as she did the same. The women made their way to the area with little delay, luckily. Nothing was said as they walked, both sunk in a shared concern. What could have disturbed Nero so much?

The secret hallway they found seemed to go on forever, but Mirany couldn’t tell if it really was that long or if it just felt like it because they were in such a hurry. She decided that of course it didn’t matter--she needed to focus on going faster. Her nerves tightened more and more the closer she got to the blip on the map.

At last they reached an open door, a very old one with an outdated manual opening mechanism. Mirany frowned at it. That's odd. But when she entered the room and saw the massive creature in the tank, her face went slack. It was unmistakably a Behemoth. She was suddenly glad Nero had been so cryptic over the bluetooth. She wouldn’t have believed him. Likely none of them would. Slowly she came up to stand at Nero’s shoulder. She tried to elbow him in greeting, but the gesture faltered and fell short in her shock. Dimly she heard the others arrive, but she had eyes only for the monster. It terrified her in a way nothing else ever had. Well, almost nothing else, she thought bitterly.

Gradually she emerged out of her shock and turned away from the tank, though it chilled her to put her back to the creature. She said, “Even if Ivalice’s weapons research doesn’t pan out, this…" Mirany gestured behind her, “this would be devastating in battle. No wonder they haven’t made any significant progress--they don’t even need explosives.”

She wrapped her hand around the back of her neck in a stressed movement. “And I don’t think Algareth is the only place in danger. Ivalice could take out whoever they wanted to.”