Cell 7 ate quietly at first, then a little too quickly, until the clatter of spoons against plates became louder than their caution.

Genevieve took her time savoring the taste. Only then did she realize her subordinates were looking at her.

"Lead, did you like it?" Jannik asked, his voice suspiciously careful.

"What do you mean by that?" Genevieve raised a brow. "Of course, it’s delicious. Do you want to go back to eating scraps from the roadside?"

Her rebuttal shrank Jannik back into submission, just as she had done to Lucie earlier. Cell 7’s familiar hierarchy was beginning to recover.

"Tidy up your trays," Genevieve ordered.

This was the least they could do. Everyone nodded and followed her order.

As they settled their trays back, the DASF unit approached them.

"Agent Courbet," he called from the side. "The Commander will meet you now."

"What about my subordinates?" Genevieve asked, glancing back at Cell 7.

"Within permitted areas," the DASF said, eyeing the rest of Cell 7. "An escort team will guide them."

Lucie and the rest had no reaction. That was to be expected.

Genevieve looked at the DASF unit for a moment, then turned to her subordinates.

"Don’t cause trouble for me."

The current arrangement was acceptable. Her team had not been treated unfairly, and for now, Golden Eagle had shown no intention of humiliating them.

She gave Lucie a small nod, the kind that was used when words became unsafe.

The DASF unit caught it but paid no further attention. As long as these people understood the constraints, they could do whatever else they wanted within them.

Genevieve faced the DASF unit again.

"Lead the way."

The DASF unit turned without another word.

Genevieve followed him out of the canteen.

Behind her, Cell 7 remained seated for a few seconds longer, surrounded by the clatter of trays, the smell of breakfast, and the strange sight of soldiers eating identical meals as if nothing about this morning had been unusual.

The walk to the Command Room was shorter than Genevieve expected. She barely had enough time to gather her thoughts before the DASF unit stopped before a reinforced entrance.

She disliked entering a meeting without enough time to think ahead. Now, the door toward Golden Eagle was right in front of her.

"The Commander is waiting inside."

Genevieve took a deep breath, steadied herself, then stepped in.

The Command Room was not grand. That was the first thing she noticed.

She expected banners. Ceremonial decorations. Objects that symbolized authority. The kind of staging higher-starred generals used to look imposing before their subordinates.

However, the room was built around function.

Maps covered one side. Radio equipment filled another. Tactical displays marked streets, blocks, patrol lines, and clusters of red symbols across Grefort City.

It was a command space, not somebody’s throne room.

Hans stood near the central display.

Tyrus sat off to one side with one leg crossed over the other, looking less like a guest and more like someone waiting for a lecture to become interesting.

Johannes stood nearby, silent and composed.

Callum remained near the door.

Genevieve’s eyes moved across the room, then returned to Hans.

"Agent Courbet," Hans greeted. He gestured toward the empty chair. "You’ve arrived. Please, take a seat."

Genevieve followed his gesture and sat in the chair near the table.

"Golden Eagle."

"How was your stay?"

"The bed was comfortable enough."

"That’s good to hear." Hans slowly sipped his tea. "I apologize for the rudimentary setup. Nobody expected that your safe house would be attacked during our meeting."

"That was not your fault." Genevieve shook her head. "We failed to account for another threat vector."

"I know."

Genevieve paused. Hans said such words plainly.

Does he know something?

Genevieve studied him once more. The answer had been too plain to be casual.

"May I ask the status of my injured subordinate?"

"Resting," Hans replied. "The medics said he should recover by today."

"That fast?" Genevieve asked before she could fully hide her surprise.

"My people are very competent." Hans smiled faintly. "For them, this is short work, Agent Courbet."

Her mouth twitched.

Hans ignored her disbelieving expression and set his cup down.

"Your people will keep their temporary quarters for now. Medical access and food remain available. As for movement, they may look around, but only where escorts allow. I assume you understand why."

"We will not make things difficult for your soldiers, Golden Eagle."

"That reassures me greatly," Hans chuckled.

"What about our weapons?"

"Restricted until you are cleared to carry them."

"So you do not trust us yet."

Genevieve said it more as a test than a complaint.

"Trust takes time," Hans shrugged. "For now, I am offering restraint."

"That sounds convenient."

"It is an honest compromise."

Johannes remained silent at the side. Tyrus kept to himself, closing his eyes and listening as if the conversation were music to his ears.

Genevieve folded her hands over her lap.

"And what do you expect from us during this period of restraint?"

"Explore the base?" Hans looked at her as if he had been wronged. "The assigned DASF should have told you that much before this meeting."

"He did."

"Then why ask?"

"To hear how you would answer."

Hans stared at her for a moment. Then he chuckled.

Johannes remained silent, but Tyrus’s lips curved faintly as if he had heard something amusing with his eyes closed.

"Fair enough," Hans said. "Look around. Ask harmless questions. Rest. Recover. If something is restricted, my soldiers will tell your people before they step over the line."

"And if they step over the line anyway?"

"Then they will be escorted back."

Genevieve waited.

Hans raised a brow. "What? Did you expect me to threaten execution over a wrong turn?"

"No. I wanted to know whether you would say it."

"You enjoy testing people."

"It keeps me alive."

"That makes two of us."

For a moment, the room settled into a quieter rhythm. Then the pressure around the conversation shifted.

Tyrus opened his eyes and shifted between Hans and Genevieve.

Finally, he smirked. The good show is here.

He had been itching to tell Hans something about last night, only to find that the Commander had other matters to handle first.

As he observed Genevieve’s expression and the faint tension around her thoughts, he realized this conversation was not far from what he had wanted to tell Hans anyway.

Genevieve straightened. "Then allow me another question."

"Go ahead."

"I have seen your base."

"I assumed as much."

"The power-generating towers. The rotating dish. The large industrial structure at the center of your base."

Genevieve watched Hans’s face as she spoke. "None of them were here before."

"You’ve noticed the difference."

"I presume you built them?" Genevieve probed.

"Not exactly."

Hans answered honestly. In the strictest sense, he had not built them with his own hands, nor had ordinary labor raised them from the ground.

It sounded truthful. The answer was not a lie, but it was not the whole truth either.

Genevieve raised a brow.

"If not you, then who?"

"Is that the question you want to ask?"

"It is one of them."

Hans shook his head while chuckling. "It’s not the most useful one, Agent Courbet. You know that better than I do."

Genevieve did not deny it.

The method mattered, but not more than intent.

If Golden Eagle refused to answer, pressing him would only waste time. If he answered too easily, she would trust the answer even less.

Either way, the question would not help Cell 7 today.

Hans leaned back slightly.

As his influence widened, questions about his technology would only become harder to avoid. Cell 7’s arrival had become convenient in a way he had not planned.

He had not planned to use them that way, but their reactions had given him a useful preview of the scrutiny he would face later.

Civilians could be impressed by lights, food, and walls. Regular soldiers could be impressed by discipline and firepower.

But trained agents looked for the specifics. They looked for supply chains, construction time, manpower, access points, internal contradictions, and the lie hiding beneath an almost-truth.

That made Genevieve and her group useful. The questions would not stop, but their scrutiny could help him learn how to answer with certainty later.

He had wanted similar reactions from Tyrus and Johannes as well, but both men were too controlled in their own ways to give him a clean answer.

Tyrus turned everything into entertainment, and when curiosity took hold, he still preferred to wait until the moment amused him.

Johannes buried his thoughts beneath obedience and caution. That had been useful earlier, but Hans’s situation had changed now that his base was no longer something he could explain as a fortified shelter.

Genevieve, at least, asked the question directly.

"You are not going to answer," she said.

"No."

"Then why allow me to ask freely?"

"What do you think?"

Hans had no intention of clearing up her doubts. He took another light sip of tea before placing the cup back down.

Genevieve narrowed her eyes. She knew they were both testing each other. However, Hans’s walls were harder to penetrate.

Amidst her thoughts, Hans tapped the table once, grabbing back her attention.

"Agent Courbet, you should rest from your duties for now."

Genevieve’s eyes narrowed.

Hans smiled faintly.

"Counter-smuggling operations are hard work. Especially when the cargo involves HELIX material."