[Internal Document – Veil VII | Classification: Somnus | Clearance Level: Sigmar 5]

  Operation Umbral Fog – Field Evaluation

  

  
• Deployed Unit: Shadows of the crown – Beta Formation
  
    ? Primary Objective: Retrieval or destruction of stolen Class A-5 Arcane Engine
  
    ? Subject Under Direct Evaluation: Velcrux, Lyssandra – (No legacy mark. Unstable emotional core. Unverified potential.)
  
    ? Parallel Observation: Vorn, Caelia – (Highly efficient. Elevated emotional risk when operating with younger subordinates.)
  
    ? Remote Supervision: High Instructor Venesse Aerla — Veil VII


  

  Attached Note: Direct contact authorized in case of critical emotional deviation. Behavior logs will be archived for review by the Veils Council.

  — Seal validated via arcane signature. —

  "The sky swallowed us.

  I wasn't afraid of dying.

  I was afraid of being the only one left alive."

  The ship roared softly. The night sky of Seravenn swallowed us.

  The operation had begun.

  Fall into the Fog

  —Shadow Code One confirmed. Insertion point at Delta-17 coordinates —announced Caelia firmly, as the ship descended just a few meters—. Total radio silence from now.

  The hum of the engine deepened, almost reverently. Everything inside the compartment seemed to hold its breath.

  —Shadow Code Two: diamond inverted deployment. I'm at the front, Neyra on rear guard. Velka, right flank. Lyss… you're with me, left flank.

  I nodded without thinking. Still trying not to look like the rookie I was.

  —Shadow Code Three —she continued, activating a lateral console—: No-recovery confirmation. If we’re captured, our identities will be denied.

  My throat tightened a bit. Only Velka clicked her tongue with amusement.

  —So dramatic, Caelia… We won’t get captured. —She flashed me a smile over her shoulder—. Right, rookie?

  The floor vibrated. The rear hatch began to open, letting in a glacial wind. The clouds parted beyond, like a dark, bottomless ocean.

  I stepped closer—and that’s when I noticed.

  There were no parachutes. None.

  —Where are the… descent devices? —I asked. My voice came out higher than I wanted.

  Velka chuckled, barely.

  —Oh right. Welcome to the magical jump. —She turned to me, adjusting her magical outfit—. Focus on your feet. Your magic will absorb the impact if you channel it right. It’s instinct… and faith. If you mess up, well… it’ll hurt like hell. Maybe a bone. Or three.

  The hatch fully opened.

  The wind slashed my skin. We were very high up. Of course—we had to fly this high to avoid Eiswacht’s radars. We were literally falling onto the fog.

  Caelia was first.

  No ceremony, no words. She jumped as if going for a stroll.

  Neyra followed, laughing like it was a game. Velka winked at me and jumped effortlessly, like a feather plucked by the wind.

  And then I was alone.

  The edge of the world opened before me. An abyss. A mission. A lie, perhaps.

  I forced myself forward.

  "Channel your magic," I thought. "Picture the resentment flowing into your feet. Not into your fists. Not into your chest. Land like you hate the ground. Like the ground owes you something."

  I jumped.

  The wind devoured me. My hair whipped like a lash, my lungs froze instantly. The sky shoved me with fury and the world approached like a forgotten memory.

  Velka’s words chased me: "Instinct… faith…"

  I closed my eyes and felt it. My magic running down my legs like a fever. Burning. Alive. Resentful.

  The ground appeared without warning.

  I landed.

  With force. With stability. Almost perfect.

  Until my boots slipped on the wet underbrush and I fell… flat on my butt. The pain was instant, sharp, ridiculous.

  —Ha! —Velka’s voice burst in my earpiece—. Nice landing, princess. You gave the earth a kiss full of passion.

  —It’s not funny —I groaned, sitting up. My pride hurt more than my backside.

  —Of course it is —said Neyra with a smirk—. First mission, first drama.

  Caelia was already scanning the terrain with her magic visor, projecting a holographic map between the shadowed trees. The shadows stretched long. The forest was thick, drowned in artificial fog.

  —Target is two hundred meters out. No signs of enemy presence. Which is precisely what’s suspicious —she murmured, eyes fixed on the screen.

  I was still brushing mud off my boots.

  And then the suspicion hit me.

  What if this arcane engine wasn’t the real objective? What if Eiswacht only wanted to see what we would send?

  It could all be a decoy.

  Operation Umbral Fog had begun.

  But we still didn’t know who we were really playing for…

  The forest murmured.

  No wind. No birds. No mistakes.

  Only us — and the artificial scent of magical fog still clinging to the foliage. With each step, my boots felt heavier. Not from weight, but from the knowledge that I was at war. A real war.

  And this was my first mission.

  The facility emerged from the trees like a living structure: no exterior lights, no patrols, no signs of defense. It was all just... too perfect.

  — “No active turrets. No recent movement,” Caelia said, dragging her fingers across a hidden ground sensor. Her visor flashed blue for a second. “Everything’s contained. They’re inside.”

  — “That’s why it seemed empty,” Neyra muttered as she adjusted her staff, wearing the smirk of someone who already knew things were about to go wrong. “They love playing ghosts.”

  — “Positions,” Caelia ordered, her voice low but firm. “Velka, Neyra — with me. Lyss, take the eastern ridge. Elevated position. Cover our entry.”

  — “Alone?”

  — “You’re support. Sniper role. Do not engage unless they block our entry or threaten our perimeter. Eliminate any obstacles. Understood.”

  I swallowed hard. Turned toward a natural slope. Climbed it and crouched low. From there, I had a perfect view of the facility’s reinforced entrance.

  The rifle in my hands trembled — like it was ready to be born.

  — “My weapon… it makes too much noise when it fires,” I whispered through the comms, worried I’d alert something — or someone — by accident.

  Velka’s ever-amused voice crackled in reply.

  — “Who told you it has to make noise, Lyss? Just… imagine it doesn’t.”

  — “What?”

  — “Magic follows your intent, darling. Your weapon can roar like a dragon or whisper like a secret. If your resentment wants silence… it’ll get it.”

  I nodded, even though they couldn’t see me. Closed my eyes. Gritted my teeth. Focused on silence.

  When I opened them again, my sniper rifle — that black fusion of corroded metal and pulsing energy — almost shimmered with stillness.

  Then, movement.

  A guard stepped out of the facility with a comm device. The enemy.

  I breathed. Aimed. The rifle aligned with my eye like it knew.

  I fired.

  There was no sound.

  Only air, trembling.

  The enemy dissolved on impact. No bones. No armor. Not even a scream.

  Only ash. Pure corrosion.

  I didn’t shout. I didn’t flinch. But something inside me — something human — did tremble. Just for a moment.

  The rifle was no longer a weapon. It was my will made solid. My resentment. My choice.

  And I knew every step, every shot, was being observed. Recorded. The veils would see everything later.

  That’s when I understood:

  A single Magical Girl isn’t a soldier.

  She’s a force of nature.

  More enemies spilled out — confused by the silence. One took a shot to the throat. Another to the chest. A dozen disappeared within seconds.

  Caelia and the others moved like wraiths between metal and concrete. Neyra used her staff to repel bullets in waves of magic. Velka with her sword- pistol fired with surgical accuracy. Caelia was a whirlwind — invisible one second, untouchable the next.

  The bunker’s frame shimmered with Eiswacht-style containment runes — recognizable by their fractal geometry. Seals of perception-warping magic.

  The main door fell in a controlled explosion.

  They slipped inside.

  I remained, vigilant.

  My breathing was slow. My body taut. But my vision — razor sharp.

  This wasn’t training anymore.

  This was war.

  And we were the only ones who knew the fight had already begun.

  Inside the Arcane Facility

  The doors opened with a whisper.

  It wasn't a breach.

  It was a silent execution.

  Caelia Vorn was the first to cross the threshold. Her eyes, glowing beneath her enchanted visor, scanned every angle, every energy conduit, every possible trap. She extended one hand, and her magic flowed like a transparent veil.

  The alarms died before they could be born.

  Her power—emotional illusion, arcane camouflage—seeped into the corridors like cold mist. The sensors registered nothing. The cameras spun in inert loops. The detection wards responded with emptiness.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A technician peeked out from a control station, raising his voice in confusion.

  —“Hello...? Did you hear that?”

  His throat opened without a sound.

  An invisible dagger, launched from the shadows, pierced him cleanly.

  Velka Aurel said nothing. She moved behind Caelia, her form agile and ready unleash precise blasts with her gunblade. The cannon, hidden within the fractured spine of the blade, glowed faintly. But tonight, there was nothing to heal.

  Neyra Solvine walked with the calm of someone who had already calculated every variable.

  —“Two on the left, four in the control room. Three arcanists… and one who thinks he can run,” she murmured.

  Caelia nodded once.

  And then the storm was unleashed.

  Neyra spun her staff, summoning a magical fire that devoured the hallway. The flames left no ash. They consumed… and then forgot.

  The soldiers didn’t even scream.

  Velka fired without pause. Her paralyzing magic left bodies suspended for a breath before collapsing. The bullets that were fired to her simply disappeared, in Velka’s yellow aura

  One of the soldiers tried to activate a distress sigil.

  Caelia raised two fingers.

  Her mind slid into the enemy’s spell.

  She unraveled it. Rewrote it.

  The sigil exploded in the soldier’s palm, killing him instantly.

  The rest tried to run.

  They didn’t get far.

  Each Magical Girl was a nightmare of efficiency. Their movements were sharp, spectral.

  No sound of magic bursting. No tremors of combat.

  Only footsteps.

  Only silence.

  And then… bodies.

  When they reached the core, they found it:

  An experimental arcane engine.

  A floating box of crystal and liquid silver, spinning midair like it held a still-beating heart. It was warm to the touch. Pulsing.

  Almost… aware.

  —“We have what we came for,” Caelia said, void of emotion.

  The three of them retraced their steps through corridors stained with death.

  Nothing lived within that facility anymore.

  Exterior

  I expected lights. Alarms. Explosions.

  But there was nothing.

  The silence weighed heavier than any sound. Through the magical visor, I could see shadows moving inside the bunker. The silhouettes of my teammates appeared and disappeared as if the building itself were devouring them.

  And then—they emerged.

  Three figures, dusted with ash and tinged with residual magic, stepped out calmly through the entrance. Velka carried the arcane core wrapped in a containment seal. Neyra wiped her staff like she had spilled ink on it. Caelia… just walked.

  No blood. No alarm. No resistance.

  Only invisible death.

  I watched them with a mix of respect and fear. That’s what they were. That’s how they functioned.

  And I...

  I was one of them now.

  Not far from there...

  The optical visor, linked to an arcane stealth diadem, adjusted with a faint hum over her eyes.

  From the crest of a snowy cliff, concealed beneath a thermal invisibility cloak and null-perception enchantments, she observed.

  The frozen wind swept the plain below her, but it couldn’t shake her focus. The target building—supposedly abandoned—lay half in ruins. But it wasn’t the damage that interested her.

  It was them.

  —Agent S-01. Visual confirmation. Three subjects —she whispered in a low, precise voice, barely audible through the private magical channel—. Non-standard uniforms. Arcane signatures active. Confirmed: Magical Girls from Seravenn operating in forbidden territory.

  She adjusted the zoom. Every motion, every slight emotional vibration, was processed through her internal sensor.

  Caelia Vorn. Neyra Solvine. Velka Aurel.

  Three names pulled from fragmented reports, captured in scattered battles. Incomplete descriptions—but the matches were clear.

  Three.

  But her gut… wasn’t convinced.

  —I sense... something else. —Her voice trembled just slightly—unusual for an Eiswacht agent—. There's a fourth presence. I can’t see her. I can’t hear her. But her emotional resonance… is different. Raw.

  The channel flickered. A subtle signal from the Intelligence Board.

  ?Attack request: denied.?

  —Understood.

  ?Operation WATCHFUL EYE continues. Do not engage. Confirm withdrawal.?

  She shut off the visor. One last glance at the enemy squad.

  "One of them is new," she thought. "A presence that doesn’t fit. Like a dissonant note in a military symphony."

  She couldn’t risk trying to locate her—but she knew she was there. Hidden. Potent. Unstable.

  She turned on her heels with the precision of a soldier trained since childhood. Her figure vanished into the falling snow, leaving behind only a whisper:

  —Eiswacht is watching.

  I stood up as I saw them emerge from the facility.

  They walked with the calm of those who know exactly what they're doing.

  Not a single visible scratch. No hesitation.

  I watched them with a mix of admiration and a dull fear gnawing at me.

  —"Was that everything?" I asked as I joined them.

  —"Everything," Caelia replied. "Clean. Fast. Just as it should be."

  Velka held the arcane engine wrapped in stabilizing runes. Neyra wiped sweat from her brow like she’d just woken from a long nap.

  But I... I couldn't shake something from my mind.

  —"I saw... something," I said, glancing toward the trees. "As you were leaving. Someone... was retreating. A silhouette. Tall. Silent. Did you see anyone?"

  Caelia frowned.

  —"I detected no additional magical signatures."

  —"Neither did I," Neyra added. "But if you felt it, it might have been cloaked."

  Velka tilted her head.

  —"Getting a sixth sense, Velcrux?"

  —"They were running down the hill," I murmured, mostly to myself. "Like they knew this was a test... not a real mission."

  No one said anything.

  Caelia tapped her wrist communicator and opened a secure channel.

  —"Shadow Team. Target secured. Requesting immediate extraction, current coord—"

  But then everything changed.

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  Something twisted in the air.

  Caelia stopped at once. Her body tensed.

  —"Do you feel that?"

  I could only describe it as pressure in my chest, like the world was holding its breath. The sky seemed darker, the air... heavier. And my magical senses began to scream.

  Caelia raised her arms instantly. Her voice was sharp:

  —"All of you, to me! Shield!"

  I ran. Velka cursed and tossed the arcane engine aside, Neyra moved to her right flank.

  I saw the shield form: a dome of dark gray light, almost liquid. It pulsed like it was made of raw emotion. Not distrust, as Caelia’s usual seal would have been...

  But panic.

  —"It's not stable!" Neyra shouted.

  And then it fell.

  An explosion.

  Not a missile. Not any ordinary bomb.

  Anti-magic.

  The shockwave consumed us. I felt the air leave my lungs. The shield cracked, pulsed—

  —and shattered like glass in a storm.

  I saw Caelia scream... but no sound came.

  Her left arm exploded in blood and magical shrapnel. The shield collapsed just before the blast hurled her back like a broken doll.

  Everything went white.

  When I opened my eyes, the world buzzed. My ears wouldn’t respond. Dust. Smoke. That high, metallic ringing.

  Caelia lay on the ground, her left arm mangled, barely attached. Her breathing was shallow. Her uniform burned in places.

  Velka dropped beside her and reached out. But... nothing happened.

  —"I can't!" she screamed. "It's anti-magic. My healing won’t work!"

  —"What do we do?!" I asked, my voice cracking.

  —"We get her out of here!" Neyra was already searching for cover.

  The three of us dragged her, pulling away from the blast zone. The arcane engine was left behind, shattered among the debris. We couldn’t risk it.

  Velka opened the emergency channel.

  —"Shadows of the crown. Urgent. Commander Caelia critically wounded. Arm compromised, magical trauma. New location marked. Requesting immediate extraction. Repeating: top priority. Unit compromised."

  I looked at her as she bled in my arms.

  I couldn’t understand how she was still alive.

  And at the same time, for the first time...

  I understood how fragile we were.

  Even as goddesses.

  Extraction Point

  The transport descended like a blade slicing through silence.

  No sirens. No orders. Just the cold churn of runes against metal as the ramp opened. Inside, white light bathed the chamber in an antiseptic glow that felt too clean for what we carried.

  Velka was shouting, though none of us could understand her anymore —her voice cracked, her lips trembling as she pressed her blood-slick hands against Caelia’s chest.

  “She’s still breathing—fuck, why won’t it work?! Why isn’t it working?!”

  Her healing magic, usually soft and warm, fizzled like a dying flame against Caelia’s skin.

  Neyra stood still. Frozen. Her face drenched in crimson that wasn’t hers. Her fingers gripped the shaft of her weapon so tightly that the joints turned white, but her eyes stayed locked on Caelia’s ruined shoulder, as if she still expected it to… grow back.

  I stumbled after them, dragging my boots across the wet ground. My breath came in gulps. My hands… were covered in blood. Deep red, thick, warm.

  Not mine.

  Caelia’s.

  I doubled over and vomited.

  The sound tore through the silence. Bitter, humiliating, loud. My whole body convulsed, as if trying to purge the memory along with the bile.

  Neyra was beside me in an instant. She didn’t speak. Just knelt, steadying my shoulders, one hand on the back of my head.

  “Breathe,” she whispered, her voice low and sharp —not unkind, but urgent. “You're still here. You’re okay. Look at me.”

  I looked.

  Her eyes were still wild beneath the blood.

  The medics finally rushed forward —faces covered, uniforms gray and pristine, untouched by grief. They took Caelia from Velka’s arms with clinical detachment. A stretcher floated into place.

  Velka didn’t let go at first.

  “She needs me,” she muttered. “Let me go with her—”

  “You’ve done all you can,” one of them said, without looking at her. “Step back.”

  And just like that, Caelia was gone —rolled into the belly of the transport, swallowed whole by white light and silence.

  We stood there, three Chosen, soaked in blood and failure.

  And none of us said a word.

  The infirmary lights flickered like a beacon in the middle of a storm.

  I was alone in the hallway. I didn’t want company. Or comfort.

  I wanted answers.

  Through the glass, I could see Caelia trembling on the operating table, as if something was devouring her from the inside. Sweat trickled down her forehead. Her breathing was jagged, irregular, like she was drowning in her own power. She convulsed. Her face —always calm— was twisted in a grimace of pain.

  Not physical. Emotional.

  Her magical connection was broken. I could feel it. Like a part of her soul had been cut with a cold scalpel.

  —“Let me in! I can stabilize her!” —Neyra’s voice came screaming from the end of the corridor.

  The analyst had lost it. She was banging on the sealed door, her eyes filled with an obsession that chilled me.

  The attendants weren’t sure if they should restrain her or surrender. They knew who she was. And what she could do if she crossed that threshold.

  It was the first time I saw her like this… human.

  —“There has to be something I can do! Let me help her!”

  I stepped in, quickly.

  —“Neyra…” —I laid my hand on her shoulder.

  She turned as if she were going to strike, but when she saw me… she crumbled.

  —“She always has everything under control,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen her like this, Lyss… not like this.”

  Before I could say anything, Velka appeared behind me. Her eyes weren’t crying.

  But the guilt in her voice was thick enough to choke on.

  —“I couldn’t do anything,” she said, broken. “I’m the damn healer. And I couldn’t save her arm.”

  I stayed silent for a few seconds.

  And then… I felt it.

  The resentment.

  A dark spark burning at the back of my throat, begging me to act.

  My fingers trembled. Not from fear. From desire. From that power screaming for an excuse to break something.

  It would’ve been easy to let it in.

  So easy.

  But I didn’t.

  Not this time.

  Instead, I clenched my teeth and exhaled. Forced myself to focus.

  —“We need to keep it together,” I told them. “If she wakes up and sees us like this, it’ll make it worse. She needs strength. Not guilt.”

  Velka closed her eyes. Neyra pressed her lips tight.

  And finally… they calmed down or so I tought.

  A few minutes later, a doctor stepped out of the room, his coat stained with residual magic.

  —“Good news. She’s stabilized.”

  Velka raised a hand to her face. Neyra let her staff fall to the floor with a hollow sound.

  I... didn’t know whether to smile or cry.

  —“However…” he continued, “her left arm was compromised. The pinky, ring, and middle fingers could not be saved.”

  Velka stepped forward.

  —“Will she…?”

  —“We’ll restore functionality with a tactical prosthesis, connected to her arcane channels. She’ll be standing in two or three days buy she will need some help to adapr so expect her in quite a few days. There will be scars, yes. But she’ll still be who she was.”

  The news wasn’t good. But it was enough.

  That night we returned to the barracks without saying much.

  The arcane core… a failed mission. A reasonable loss, they’d call it later.

  But that night, we knew we had left more than just an artifact behind.

  The room was silent.

  Too silent.

  Neither Velka nor I had said a word since we came back from the medical wing. She sat at the edge of her bed, unmoving, eyes fixed on a spot that didn’t exist. I pretended to change clothes calmly, but my hands were shaking. I tried opening my tactical console. Opened the file three times. Closed it three times.

  I pressed my lips together.

  Velka, who usually complained about the heat or her uniform, hadn’t spoken in over half an hour. Her hair was loose, messy. She kept brushing it from one shoulder to the other for no reason. The only sound in the room was the slow, dragging snap of her gum — as if chewing was the one thing keeping her grounded.

  I turned off the light.

  And we stayed like that.

  In the dark, with the noise in my head swarming like bees: Caelia’s silent scream, the blood on my clothes, the cracking of the shield as it shattered.

  I don’t know how long it was before the door opened. Slowly.

  It was Neyra.

  She came in carrying a pillow under one arm, still wearing her wrinkled and stained uniform. Her eyes were puffy, but dry — like she had already cried everything out… or had no more tears left.

  She didn’t say “hi.”

  She just muttered,

  —I can’t sleep alone tonight.

  Velka didn’t react at first. Then she turned slightly and patted the bed beside her.

  —Knew you’d come, obsessive —she whispered with no sarcasm in her voice.

  No more explanation was needed.

  The three of us improvised a wide bed with blankets, spare pillows, and a weak spell to keep the warmth locked between us. Velka conjured a soft light that floated above like a dying firefly.

  We lay down together. Not out of habit. But because none of us knew how to be apart that night.

  At first, we said nothing.

  We just listened to our breathing.

  Until Neyra whispered:

  —No matter what happens. If something like this happens again… we stay together.

  Velka took a second, but then answered:

  —Together.

  I stared at the ceiling I couldn’t see and clenched the blanket in my fingers.

  —Together —I echoed.

  And there, in that mix of heat and guilt, of drained magic and leftover fear, I realized something I couldn’t deny:

  I’m not alone anymore

  Silence embraced us.

  And so did we.

  Without saying it. Without planning it.

  When the warmth spell began to spread, our bodies adjusted naturally — like broken pieces finally finding their fit: my forehead resting against Velka’s shoulder, Neyra’s hand over mine, three breaths aligned by exhaustion more than will.

  That’s how we slept.

  Not as warriors.

  But as girls who, just for one night, wanted to stop being afraid.