Chapter Text
The building didn’t look like anything special. Not heroic or professional, simply mundane.
Ilya stopped on the sidewalk longer than necessary, unsure if she was in the right place. She reread the plaque over and over beside the glass doors. No grand statue, logo, or slogan. It didn’t look any different from an accountant’s office- and that was being generous.
She walks in hesitantly. Inside, the air smelled faintly of disinfectant, and the constant buzzing of machinery added to the ambiance.
She barely made it three steps past security before someone shoved a tablet into her hands.
“Badge up, thumbprint here- no, not there, here. Don’t cross the yellow lines unless you’re escorted. Do not go anywhere without supervision.” The woman barely looked at her- already walking away by the time Ilya managed a nod. The scanner chimed, her badge being accepted with no problem. Despite saying she couldn’t go anywhere, nobody came to escort her, so she nervously went into the lobby.
The lobby was full of glass walkways and reinforced walls. The building was bigger than she thought- people moved through the place with efficiency, barely paying any attention to her. Paramedics pushing gurneys, analysts with headsets, heroes in uniform. Ilya felt out of place; she had studied for this. Years of exams, certifications, screenings, and countless nights of crying. No one posed, no one looked around.
Ilya shifted in her place, anxiety running through her veins like melting lava. She knew the laws, she knew what heroes were allowed to do, and more importantly, what they weren’t.
But no one prepared her for how quiet it was.
A short, chubby woman with short dark hair and pink highlights and a permanent frown intercepted her near the elevators. Her white coat made Ilya realize she must be in the medical wing. “New hire?” The woman said coldly, as if Ilya were a nuisance more than a coworker.
“Rin. I handle the medical wing, alongside schedules and damage control. If you survive your first month, you’ll learn my name anyway. I hope not to see you in the clinic.” She flicked her eyes to Ilya’s badge. “Follow me, don’t wander.”
They passed a row of doors marked with color-coded bands. Green, blue, yellow
Ilya stared at the one with a red stripe.
Rin didn’t. “Eyes forward,” she said harshly. “If you see red, it means you shouldn’t be curious. And in no circumstance should you consider entering.”
That seemed reasonable, Ilya makes that note in her head. She kept walking alongside Rin.
The halls were white, lacking any kind of decoration, and very uninviting. Every few meters, cameras tracked their movement. There didn’t seem to be a single blind spot in this place… That was good.
Hesitantly, Ilya asks. “What exactly will I be doing?”
Rin snorted. “Today? Of course, no one explained it to you, why would they?” She says sarcastically. “You’ll do paperwork, maybe some observation. Learning when not to ask questions.” She tapped her tablet, “You won’t see field work for a while, Cassian doesn’t like sending new hires into live situations.”
The name was familiar; however, it carried a weight she was unsure how to place. “He’s cautious…?”
Rin scoffed, as if remembering something. “Experienced.”
They keep walking until they reach a workstation overlooking a training room. Below, a small team was testing out relics with controlled power.
“Threat levels have been low since the old boss of the mafia died,” Rin added, mostly to herself. “Most of the legacy cases are dormant; there’s mainly weapon trade, money laundering, and territory fights nowadays.”
Ilya watched a hero stumble during practice, and they were corrected immediately - without anger or panic. It felt stable… maybe even safe.
Rin handed her a new tablet. “Read everything, sign nothing you don’t understand.”
“And if I have questions? They told me I can’t be without supervision.”
Rin met her gaze, annoyed. “Ask. I’ll tell you whether you’re cleared to know. There are enough cameras so you’ll never be truly alone.”
She turned to leave, then paused. “Oh- And if you hear alarms that aren’t on schedule? Stay where you are, someone higher-up will handle it.”
The tablet lit up in Ilya’s hands, dense with text and disclaimers. However, as much text as it is, she is used to reading insanely long texts in no time. Maybe this could keep her busy, too. Ilya sighed; she had no way of knowing how unprepared she was.
She scrolled past sections she barely understood- no amount of studying could make her prepared for this- jurisdiction clauses, emergency authority overrides, language so technical and careful it felt as if it was afraid of itself.
“New hires always read like they’re trying to memorize a spell,” a voice said behind her. “Doesn’t work.”
Ilya turned.
The man leaning against the railing looked as if he had lost an argument with gravity, or a very angry tornado. His jacket hung open, his shirt not hiding his built frame, badge dulled by scratches. His white hair looked recently dyed; the clothes certainly were just enough to justify workplace rules.
“I’m sorry?” she asked.
He nodded, as if he didn’t really hear her. “You think if you understand it well enough, it’ll protect you.”
“I just started,” Ilya said carefully.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He smirks. That kind of smile made Ilya both infuriated and like she was about to cry. She thought heroes were supposed to be… heroic, kind maybe. But so far she had met absolutely no one who showed kindness.
Before she could say anything, he pushed off the railing and came closer, boots echoing too loudly for the space- were those kinds of boots even allowed? The guy didn’t seem to like rules anyway. His gaze flicked to her badge- it’s white, meaning it’s temporary for now.
“Rook,” He said, not offering his hand. “Field support. Formerly.”
She could only guess as to what he meant by formerly.
“My name is Ilya…” She avoided his gaze, which felt like poison.
“What kind of name is that?” He gestured vaguely at the training bay. “Let me guess, top of your class? Clean record, total people pleaser.”
She stiffened. “Is that a problem?”
Rook smiles, thin and humorless. “Not yet. Just know that in the field, studies are worth nothing. You’ll learn the hard way.”
He leaned beside her, eyes on the now-empty training ground. “You see that training gear? The weapons, relics, mannequins… all of that? Useless. Real missions don’t look like that.”
“I know,” Ilya said defensively. “I’m not naive.”
Rook finally looked at her properly. “That’s worse,” he laughs, “Naive people listen. Careful people hesitate… You?” He tilted his head. “You think you belong here.”
The words landed like a blow to the head; she could feel the tears coming, the panic settling in. “I worked for this.” She hated how her voice cracked.
“So did I.” There was something sharp under that, not anger, just… resentment. “Here’s some free advice, rookie. Cassian won’t say it out loud, but… don’t volunteer. Don’t get curious, don’t feel safe. Quiet doesn’t mean things are getting better; it just means they are delayed. Preparing.”
Ilya swallowed. She had to see if she had her anxiety medication somewhere. She took some before coming, but… “You don't sound like you trust this place.”
Rook laughed, once. “I trust the walls, I trust the locks… I don’t trust the people.” He starts walking off, already dismissing her. “Welcome to the agency… Try not to die proving you’re different.”
Ilya stood there long after he was gone, tablet dimming in her hands. Her mind was racing, unable to stop. She could feel the familiar panic settling in, but she didn’t have the energy to look for her SOS medicine. She didn’t know why, but Rook’s words unsettled her more than anything.
She focuses on the tablet again, on the words she’d already read twice. Jurisdiction, clearance, liability. But no matter how much she read them, she couldn’t ground herself. Her breathing felt steady; she told herself the tightness in her chest was just adrenaline.
But then, the room felt farther away.
The constant buzzing of the lights, of the machinery, each sound suddenly distinct. Footsteps were too loud, her hands feeling disconnected from her own body.
‘Stop,’ she told herself desperately. ‘You’re not weak anymore.’
She settled the tablet down carefully and tried other grounding techniques. In through the nose, out through the mouth… Slowly, carefully….
‘You’re fine… You’ll be fine… You always have other options; you could work on accounting. You like numbers…. But… This is my dream.’ Tears started to form, her vision tunneling.
“Hey.”
The voice cut through the spiral- soft, compared to the loudness.
Ilya looked up and found herself staring at a man she recognized immediately, even without looking at the insignia.
Cassian.
He stood a careful distance away, hands visible and relaxed. Comforting. His eyes flicked to her trembling hands, then back to her face. “You look like you’re about to argue with your own lungs,” he says. “Mind if I interrupt?”
She swallowed, voice unsteady. “I’m- yes, I mean… sorry, I need a minute.”
He didn’t try touching her or rushing her; he simply turned and motioned to follow him.
They walked side-by-side through the corridors, away from the training bay, away from every loud noise. “This isn’t a war against you, first days are… loud.”
Ilya nodded, embarrassed by her running tears. “I didn’t expect this reaction…. I’m sorry.”
“No one does,” he replied. “That’s why we have a clinic.”
Rin was inside when they arrived, sleeves rolled up, looking at her tablet with focus. She glances at the sudden intrusion, her expression sharpening the moment she sees Ilya’s face.
“Oh,” she said quietly. “That look.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Cassian said, pausing at the door. “You’re not in trouble, Ilya. Not even close.”
The door softly slid shut behind him.
Rin guided her to a chair, handing her a glass of water with sugar.”Slow sips. Feet flat on the floor.”
Ilya obeyed, hands still trembling.
After a moment of silence, Rin speaks. “I’m sorry.” Ilya looks at her expression, which was one full of concern. “I forget sometimes that what’s routine for us isn't natural for everyone. I’m quite grumpy at this hour, but that does not excuse my behaviour.”
“It wasn’t just you,” Ilya managed. “Someone else- Rook-”
Rin’s mouth tightened. “Ah.” She seemed angry for a second, and Ilya was scared she would do something wrong again. “That tracks,” she muttered. Then, more gently. “He’s rough around the edges, and also the center… You know, typical rich brat.”
“I don’t think he meant to-”
“I know,” Rin cuts in. “But… He’s not always in the wrong.” The words were careful, “This job will put you face to face with things that don’t announce themselves… People, especially the criminals we deal with, don’t behave like the training simulations. Today was uncomfortable, but not dangerous. This job will make you fear for your life at every second.” Ilya took a breath, already getting calmer. “If this already feels like too much, we adjust. We don’t coddle- but we don’t break people either.” Rin said firmly but not unkindly.
“I don’t want special treatment,” Ilya said quickly. Then, lower. “I thought I was over this.”
“Good,” Rin replied with a slight smile. “Because you won’t get it.” Then, softer. “What you will get is support, honesty, and time to learn before the worst parts find you.”
The shaking was gone, only leaving exhaustion in its wake.
Rin straightened. “Take ten minutes. Then orientation resumes. Cassian will expect you back.”
Ilya nodded, looking at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing she had seen in years.
Rin steps away, going back to looking at files on her tablet. A comfortable silence wavers over them.
Ilya isn’t weak. But this place was heavier than she’d imagined. Yet, this was only the beginning.
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