Edin rubbed his eyes, blinked twice, and checked the screen. He was not hallucinating. A Radien Stallion was approaching them—the exact same model as Arden's car. However, Arden was not the only one who owned a Radien Stallion, so it was not necessarily her that was driving towards them.

But it could be.

He fiddled with a knob and joystick as he zoomed. The license plate expanded, and this was its number: SG 111.

"Rowan," he hollered, eyes still on the screen, "Arden's coming!"

"Who?"

"Arden! Her car's heading this way."

Footsteps thundered as Rowan hurried down the stairs. "You mean Arden Mægenstern's on the way here?"

"Yeah, that's her car."

Rowan scuttled to the panel, his breathless mouth as wide as his bulging eyes. "Why's she heading here?"

"I don't know! I—"

"Wait, I think I know why," Rowan interrupted him, "she might be here for inspection."

"Inspection?"

"Don't you remember what Senior Norman told us two weeks ago? A senior's going to come here and inspect our post to see how we're doing."

"He did? He didn't tell me!"

"He didn't?"

Edin shook his head.

"Wait." Rowan paused and touched his chin. He then recalled, "Oh, right, you weren't here when it happened. I was watching the panels while you were in the bathroom, and then I saw his face pop up on one of the screens. He told me that we're going to get inspected in two weeks and asked me to tell you."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I forgot."

Crackle. The car ground to a halt right next to the post.

The two young men stood still. They watched her from their many monitors. A car door swung open, and a tall, slender woman emerged from the driver's seat. Edin held his breath.

He had lived with Arden for two years, but this was the first time he had seen her in a guardian's uniform. Unlike their outfits, which were brown and beige overall, her clothes were as black as ink—he could not tell where her trousers ended and her boots began, and her hair would have faded into her shirt had she not trimmed it above her shoulders. A metal ribbon wrapped around her soles. It was not gold, nor silver, nor iron. Platinum. Her commanding presence was already palpable when she wore civilian clothing. Now, in her senior attire, she was authority incarnate.

Edin and Rowan moved not a muscle as she locked her car and strode towards the door. Edin paced a few steps away from the control panel, faced the door, and straightened his posture. Rowan copied him. By the time she had entered, the two were already in a position to greet her. She stood across them. They were all the same height, yet if one saw how the men were looking up to her, one would think that she was far taller.

"S-senior Arden," Rowan stuttered, "I'm very honored to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you, Rowan," she said, the corners of her lips quirking a little.

Rowan stole a glance at Edin. His expression read: "She said my name!"

"Anyway, I'm sure Norman must've told you about your inspection today," she began. "He got sick this morning, so I'll be taking his place. Move over please."

Rowan scurried backward to make space. Edin strolled in the same direction.

Arden turned her head sideways, surveying the station. She halted in front of the panel. Her gaze drifted from one side of the panel to the other, then upward from the panel to the topmost screen, then sideways to the other screens, until they had covered the whole wall. She then took two steps forward and leaned over to fiddle with some of the controls. New programs and windows popped up in some of the monitors. After a few minutes, she closed them all.

"Everything's functional," she remarked.

"No problems so far," Rowan said, nodding.

She made no further remark. Arden glided across the floor and continued her inspection, her soles making sharp clinking sounds that pierced the air every three-fourths of a second. Upon nearing the windows, she retrieved a thin and white cloth from her pocket and wiped it on the glass. It was spotless. She pocketed the cloth, made one full circle around the first floor, and then paced toward the storage room. She opened its door.

"Hmm."

"Is there anything wrong?" Rowan inquired.

"No, not that I can see."

Arden then set foot inside and scanned the interior, turning on her heel as she did so. She craned her neck to get a better view of the top shelves. Her hands pushed boxes and objects aside as she scanned each rack, nook, and cranny, later sliding them back to their original positions.

"Impressive. From my experience, the recruits would usually be far messier."

"We organize it during breaks."

And by "we," Rowan meant Edin. Rowan's only contribution was putting his belongings on one shelf and leaving everything else untouched; Edin would neaten the rest of the storage room.

Arden ascended to the upper floor, and the two followed her. The first room she surveyed was the bathroom. She turned on the lights.

"Very dry," she commented. "That's good."

"Hear that?" Rowan whispered to Edin. "She thinks we're doing a good job! No complaints so far."

Edin only nodded.

The two stood still as she continued scrutinizing their station, only moving away when they needed to make room for her. She spared no space from her scrutinous gaze—even the backs of the shelves in the pantry were subject to her survey. It took her no less than ten minutes for her to scan the entire second floor. Once she had done so, she stood next to the stairwell, five meters from the two recruits.

"Well, you two have passed inspection," she informed.

Rowan breathed a sigh of satisfaction and relief.

"But I'm not done yet. Rowan, please wait for me downstairs. I want to talk with Edin in private."

"Yes, Senior Arden."

Rowan paced past her and climbed down the staircase. Once she was sure that he had left them alone, Arden strode towards Edin till they were only two arms apart. Her lips straightened.

"There's something we need to discuss," she said, her voice low and resonant.

His was trapped in his throat.

"I checked your records earlier today, and I was expecting that you'd have slain a dozen beasts by now. However, for the past three-and-a-half months, you've only slain one: a glæsseling. Meanwhile, your partner has slain eighty-five.

"I'm perplexed. The records show you're always here. I don't recall seeing you being sick or unfit to fight lately. I thought you were scared, but the beasts your partner's slain are far less threatening than what you've killed today.

"Explain your activity for the past three months."

Edin cleared his throat. He said, in a voice that was soft—though not firm—like hers, "Well, it's because my partner wanted to do all the killing."

He could not see it, but she furrowed her brows. "Your partner wants to do all the killing?"

He nodded. "He's very enthusiastic about slaying beasts, mostly because of money, I think. When he's not on the battlefield, he's usually counting money and thinking of things to buy. He only got me to kill the glæsseling today because he was scared, and I had experience."

"So all of this is his initiative?"

"Yes."

"Even while he was on break?"

"Yes."

Her face had no expression. "Tell Rowan that I want to talk with him. Wait for me downstairs."

He nodded. He paced towards the stairwell. Halfway through his descent, he called out, "Rowan."

Rowan was sitting in front of the control panel, monitoring the screens.

Edin said more loudly, "Rowan."

Rowan jerked his head around. "Yup?"

"Arden wants to talk with you."

"With me?"

"Yeah." He set foot on the lower floor. "Go upstairs."

Rowan stood up and hurried up the steps, his footsteps thumping as he did so.

Edin took a seat on one of the rolling chairs and pushed himself toward the control panel. His eyes stared at the screens, but he saw not the village, nor the desert beyond it. His mind's eye instead looked toward the upper floor, picturing Arden and Rowan's conversation. He fidgeted. Edin supposed that she was inquiring him about their uneven shares of work.

He was right. Upstairs, Arden interrogated Rowan, "Edin told me that you're 'very enthusiastic' about slaying beasts. Is that correct?"

"It is. I—"

"Speak softly," she cut him off. "He'll be able to hear you if you speak that loudly."

"Uh y-yes, sorry." His voice quivered, like the rest of him.

"Anyway, I understand how you can be excited, but is it really to the point of killing virtually every beast near Stoll except for the one that came today?"

"Yes."

"Even when you're supposed to be on your break?"

"Yes."

"Is this all your initiative or is it because he asked you to do it for him?"

"I-It's all my initiative." Rowan shrunk from the pressure under her unseen gaze. "I know that we get paid more for every beast we slay, and since all the beasts around here are not that dangerous, I just wanted to take advantage of it to rake in more money."

"Hmm, I see. So why didn't you slay the glæsseling that neared your post today?"

"I-I was scared of it. I asked Edin if he would like to do it because he's killed one before."

"So, he never asked you to slay a beast so that he didn't have to?"

"Never. I'd be out the door before he could ask."

There was a stuffy silence between them.

"D-did I do something wrong?"

"I wouldn't say it's wrong," Arden said, "but it is unusual. Usually, if two partners are of equal rank, they'd slay an equal number of beasts. Are you sure that you're okay with how you're splitting the work?"

"I am."

"You don't consider your work disproportionate or unreasonable?"

"No—well yes—I mean, it's way more than his, b-but I wanted it. He didn't ask me to work more, not at all."

There was a slight downturn at the corners of her lips. "Well then, that's all I need to know. One piece of advice: treat your breaks as breaks. I don't want anyone to work too much."

"I'll keep that in mind, Senior Arden."

A series of beeps emanated from below. The control panel. The two of them remained stationary across each other.

"Rowan?"

"Yes, Senior Arden?"

"Aren't you going to check the screens or windows?"

"Uh"—Rowan's face turned red—"y-yes, I am."

Rowan dashed downstairs. Arden remained on the second floor, heading to the nearest window instead.

He reached the lower floor. Edin was holding a knob and joystick.

Rowan asked him, "What is it?"

"Give me a sec."

Edin shifted the joystick and rotated the knob clockwise. A dark mark enlarged on three of their many monitors. Edin rotated another knob to adjust the focus. The blurry outline writhing within their screens transformed into a more recognizable monster. Eight limbs crept along the scorched ground towards them, and from the monster's mouth came a gargle-like growl.

Edin shot a glance at Rowan, whose eyes had lost their eager luster. They froze from the blood that ran cold in their veins.

It was the most dangerous beast they had ever come across.