The Villain League headquarters was unusually quiet that night. Not because it was peaceful, but because everyone was listening intently. Muffled voices drifted in from the next room, fragments filtering through poorly insulated walls.

Keigo stood leaning against a column, hands in his pockets, a slight smile on his face as if nothing could touch him. His wings rested folded, barely vibrating with almost imperceptible micro-tensions.

“I'm telling you, something's not right...” whispered a voice in the background. “You have no proof,” replied another, in a low tone.

A feather slipped under his jacket, separating from his wing without anyone noticing. Another remained suspended, motionless, feigning carelessness. He didn't look at anyone in particular. He shouldn't have.

But he listened.

“I don't know... he appeared at exactly the right moment.”

A murmur responded with something he couldn't make out.

It wasn't an open accusation. Not yet. The tone wasn't enough to set off general alarms, but it was enough to plant a seed. And seeds, in places like that, grew fast.

He didn't know who it was.

And that forced him not to make a single mistake during his infiltration mission.

“Everything's fine... for now,” he thought, regulating his breathing without altering the carefree curve of his smile.