The Internal Security officer leaned forward. "Mr. Necros, did you understand our question about your healing methods?"

  Magi glanced around the room, noting the positions of each person and the distance to the door.

  "I use Basic Healing," he replied simply.

  The Science Division woman adjusted her glasses. "Yes, but your application is... unusual. Small, continuous pulses rather than concentrated bursts after injury."

  "Is that against regulations?" Magi asked.

  The administrator exchanged glances with the security officer. "Not technically, but it contradicts established Guild Healing Doctrine."

  "I wasn't aware of a doctrine," Magi said. "I just do what works."

  "And how did you determine this method works better?" the woman asked, her tablet ready to record his answer.

  Magi shrugged. "Trial and error."

  The security officer's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Necros, we've reviewed footage from the bone dragon incident. Your healing signature doesn't match standard patterns."

  "I wouldn't know about patterns."

  "You continuously healed your teammates during combat," the woman pressed. "That requires precise control and awareness that most C-rank healers don't possess."

  Magi maintained his neutral expression. "Basic Healing isn't complicated."

  The administrator slid a document across the table. "This is the Guild Healing Doctrine training manual. Page forty-two clearly states that healing should be concentrated and applied after combat or when injuries reach severity level three."

  Magi glanced at the manual but didn't touch it. "I haven't read it."

  "That's the problem," the security officer said. "You're using techniques that contradict established methodology without proper certification."

  "I'm just using Basic Healing," Magi repeated.

  The woman from Science Division tapped her tablet. "Your Guild registration lists no formal training. Where did you learn these methods?"

  "I practiced."

  The security officer's frustration showed. "Mr. Necros, cooperation would make this process easier."

  Magi looked at each of them in turn. "Am I under investigation?"

  A moment of silence followed before the administrator cleared his throat. "This is a routine assessment following unusual attribute usage."

  "Then I'd like to rejoin my team for training," Magi said, standing up.

  "We're not finished," the security officer stated.

  "You said this was voluntary," Magi countered.

  The administrator hesitated. "We did, but—"

  "Then I volunteer to leave," Magi said, walking toward the door.

  The security officer stood. "Mr. Necros, there are questions about your attribute usage that require answers."

  Magi paused at the door. "Submit them in writing to Echo Squad's team leader. Guild protocol section fifteen gives teams the right to formal inquiry processes."

  The three exchanged surprised glances.

  "You've read the Guild protocols but not the Healing Doctrine?" the woman asked skeptically.

  "Marc made us review sections relevant to team operations," Magi replied truthfully.

  The administrator sighed. "Very well. You may go, but expect a formal inquiry notice within 48 hours."

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Magi nodded and left without another word, making his way to the tactical training room where he found his teammates already gathered.

  Marc noticed him immediately. "Everything okay? Our 'health assessment' was just basic questions about the rift collapse."

  "Mine too," Magi lied. "Nothing important."

  Layla groaned dramatically. "Can we get this training over with? I want to finish our break with actual breaking."

  As the instructor began the tactical briefing, Magi half-listened while thinking about the implications of the questioning. The Guild was taking a closer interest in his methods, which meant more scrutiny was coming. The comfortable anonymity he'd maintained was eroding faster than he'd anticipated.

  ***

  When Magi reached his apartment building that evening, something felt off. The lobby was quieter than usual, and the elderly neighbor who normally sat reading by the window was absent.

  He climbed the stairs to the third floor and stopped before his door. The security seal he'd placed along the frame, a nearly invisible thread of basic wind energy, was gone.

  Someone had entered his apartment.

  Magi considered his options. Call the Guild security? Alert his teammates? Neither appealed to him. More people meant more complications.

  He placed his palm against the door, extending his senses through Basic Earth. Two heartbeats inside? No. The apartment was empty of life.

  He unlocked the door and stepped inside, ready to use Basic Fire if necessary.

  The lights were on. He distinctly remembered turning them off before leaving.

  His apartment looked... different. Not ransacked or destroyed, but reorganized. The stack of books by his sofa now stood neatly on the shelf. The collection of mineral samples he'd left scattered across his desk were arranged in perfect rows.

  Magi moved cautiously through the living room, checking for traps or surveillance devices. He found nothing obvious.

  In the kitchen, everything gleamed. The dishes he'd left in the sink were cleaned and stacked in the cupboard. The countertops sparkled. Even the old coffee maker looked polished.

  A note was stuck to his refrigerator with a small black magnet he didn't recognize.

  "We appreciate discretion."

  No signature. No explanation.

  Magi checked the refrigerator. His food remained untouched, though someone had arranged the containers by size and type. Even his leftovers were neatly labeled with small adhesive tags showing dates.

  He moved to the bedroom, finding his clothes folded and organized by color in his drawers. The bed was made with hospital corners, something he never bothered with.

  His bathroom gleamed in ways he didn't know were possible. The grout between tiles looked new.

  Finally, Magi entered his storage closet where he kept his collected materials. Each shelf had been reorganized, with containers labeled and arranged by content type. Monster parts, minerals, plant fibers. Everything categorized with precision.

  His gaze fell on the empty third shelf. The box labeled "Sell Later" containing the black fragment was gone.

  Magi stared at the empty space. The box had contained not only the fragment but also several other potentially valuable items he'd collected from Rifts, small energized crystals, a partial mana condenser, and the scales from an unusually colored salamander.

  But the fragment was the only truly unusual item, the only one that had responded to his attributes.

  Magi checked the remaining shelves carefully. Nothing else was missing. In fact, some items he'd forgotten about had been discovered and categorized. A cracked geode he'd found weeks ago had been cleaned and placed in a display case he didn't own.

  He returned to the kitchen and read the note again. "We appreciate discretion."

  The Syndicate. It had to be. Calvin Reeves had mentioned their interest in the void seed and the necromancer's ring. Magi had declined their offer, so they'd simply taken what they wanted.

  He checked his pocket where the necromancer's ring remained safely stored. The void seed was secured in a special container under his bed, which he confirmed was still there. They hadn't taken either of the items they'd claimed to want.

  Just the fragment.

  Magi considered his options. He could report the break-in to Guild security, but that would mean explaining what was stolen. The fragment wasn't officially registered, and explaining its properties would invite more questions like those he'd faced today.

  He could contact the Syndicate directly, using the card Reeves had left. But what would that accomplish? They'd clearly found what they wanted or at least something they valued.

  The apartment felt foreign now. Every surface touched and rearranged by strangers. His private space invaded and altered.

  Magi moved to the window and looked out at the city. Lights flickered on as evening settled. People moved below, unaware of dimensional anomalies and syndicate operations. Just living their lives.

  He'd have to find a new apartment sooner than planned. This space was compromised.

  In the kitchen, he opened a drawer and found his apartment-hunting notebook, now with color-coded tabs he hadn't placed.

  He flipped through the pages and found the eastern sector apartment he'd been considering was now circled in red ink with a note: "Security upgrades recommended but location approved."

  They were guiding his choices now. The presumption was irritating.

  Magi closed the notebook and returned to the empty shelf.

  What had made the fragment so valuable that they'd take it but leave the void seed and ring? What had his casual experimentation revealed that caught their attention?

  He'd barely scratched the surface of understanding the fragment. Now he might never know its significance.

  Magi stared at the empty shelf where the box had been, his expression unchanged despite the frustration building inside him.

  "...That was rude," he said to the empty apartment.

  The silence offered no reply, but somewhere in the city, the Syndicate had what they wanted. And Magi had learned an important lesson about keeping valuable discoveries more secure.

  He would need to be more careful. The Guild was watching his healing methods. The Syndicate was watching his collection. His comfortable anonymity was dissolving.

  For the first time since the Awakening, Magi felt the weight of visibility pressing down on his carefully constructed simple life.