Chapter 183| The First Briefing
Priya’s first scheduled briefing arrived precisely on time, a full week after her initial visit, and Allen found himself, watching her set up a considerable array of documentation across the guild’s meeting table with brisk, practiced efficiency, cautiously optimistic about exactly how sustainable this new, structured rhythm might actually prove.
"Audio analysis update first," she began, once the family had settled around the table. "Our linguistics team ran additional passes on the recording. They’ve identified something worth flagging — a faint background sound, almost entirely masked beneath the primary voice track, that they believe is water. Not rain, not plumbing. Something considerably larger. Waves, potentially, or a substantial body of moving water."
"She was near the coast when she recorded that," Vivian said slowly, working through the implication.
"That’s our working theory," Priya confirmed. "Combined with everything else we know about facility placement patterns within Umbra Black’s broader operational structure, coastal proximity fits a considerable pattern we’ve already documented across several of their other confirmed sites."
Allen absorbed the detail with quiet, focused attention, turning the fragment over alongside everything else the investigation had slowly, patiently accumulated. "Does that actually narrow anything down? The coast is considerably long."
"Not on its own," Priya admitted. "But paired with future leads, it’s one more data point that might eventually matter. I’d rather flag every fragment now than have you discover later that we withheld something you deserved to know."
"We appreciate that," Myria said, already noting the detail in her own considerable, growing case file.
Priya continued through the briefing’s remaining items with the same careful, methodical thoroughness — updates on Wray’s continued cooperation, a summary of the fourteen identified subject groups’ current status, and a cautious note that command had assigned additional analysts to cross-reference the 1947 intelligence file against every subsequent decade’s fragmentary records of unusual, long-lived Hunter activity.
"Anything concrete from that cross-reference yet?" Allen asked.
"Not yet," Priya said. "It’s slow, painstaking work, sifting through decades of records that were never properly organized with this kind of search in mind. I don’t want to promise a timeline I can’t guarantee. But the team’s dedicated, and thorough."
"How large a team, exactly?" Myria asked, always curious about the mechanics behind whatever institutional support they’d been promised.
"Six analysts, currently," Priya said. "Command’s authorized expansion to twelve if the workload justifies it, though I suspect we’ll hit diminishing returns before we ever need that many. Historical archive work rewards patience considerably more than raw manpower."
"We trust the process," Allen said, and meant it, months of patient investigation having taught him considerably more faith in careful, deliberate work than he’d ever possessed during his own early, desperate scramble toward strength.
Irene, who had listened through most of the briefing with unusual, focused patience, finally spoke up as Priya moved toward her final notes. "Can I ask something? The subject groups you mentioned. The other thirteen. Has anyone actually reached out to them yet?"
"Two, cautiously," Priya said. "Both still processing. It’s delicate work, exactly as difficult as you’d expect, and we’re moving carefully to avoid retraumatizing anyone who might not even know their own memory was altered."
"We offered to help with that," Myria reminded her. "Farrow said she’d bring us in once the first contacts were properly established."
"She did," Priya confirmed. "I’ve read that note in the file. I think it’s a good idea, honestly. Lived experience carries a weight that even the most well-trained counselor can’t fully replicate. I’ll coordinate the introduction once the two current contacts are stable enough for outside involvement."
"Thank you," Irene said, some of her earlier restlessness settling into quiet, genuine purpose.
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Once the formal briefing concluded, Priya lingered a moment longer than strictly necessary, her own composed professionalism softening slightly as she gathered her materials.
"Can I ask you something, off the record?" she said.
"Of course," Allen said.
"How are you all actually doing?" she asked. "Not the case. Just — you, personally. I’ve read enough files like this to know the toll they take, even when the investigation itself proceeds smoothly."
Allen considered the question with genuine, careful thought, appreciating the sincerity behind it. "Some days are harder than others," he admitted. "But we’ve got each other, and we’ve got this town. That helps more than I think I properly understood, before we built it."
"That’s a good answer," Priya said, something genuine and warm entering her expression. "I hope it stays true, however long this ends up taking."
"So do we," Allen said, and watched her gather the last of her materials, feeling, as her transport finally pulled away from the guild’s entrance, a small but genuine measure of gratitude for exactly how far this investigation had traveled — from a desperate, isolated scramble toward truth into something considerably more sustainable, carried now by people who understood, properly, exactly what the work actually cost.
"One more piece," Myria said quietly, once Priya had gone, reviewing her notes on the water sound. "Small, but real."
"Small, but real," Allen agreed, and let the evening settle into its own quiet, considerable rhythm.
Vivian joined them a moment later, having overheard the tail end of the conversation, her own composed expression carrying thoughtful, careful weight. "I’ve been thinking about the coastline detail," she admitted. "It’s not much on its own. But it’s the first physical detail we actually have about where she might have been, rather than simply who she might be."
"That’s true," Myria said, considering it. "Everything else has been identity and motive. This is the first fragment that points toward geography."
"Do you think it’s worth pursuing independently?" Allen asked. "Or do we leave that to Priya’s team?"
"I think we leave the active pursuit to them," Vivian said. "But I don’t think it hurts to keep our own eyes open. If we ever encounter something that resonates with a coastal detail like that, in passing, unrelated to this case entirely, I’d rather we notice it than dismiss it."
"Agreed," Allen said, and the family settled into quiet, considered thought, one more patient step forward in a search that had already taught them, so thoroughly, exactly how much genuine progress could hide within the smallest, most unassuming details.
Everlyn, who had listened quietly through most of the evening’s discussion, finally reached for her notepad. ’Do you think we’ll ever run out of small pieces to gather?’ she wrote. ’Sometimes it feels like this puzzle only ever grows bigger, never smaller.’
"I’ve wondered that too," Allen admitted. "But I think every piece we do gather makes the next one a little easier to find. That has to count for something."
"It does," Myria said firmly. "We’re considerably further along than we were even a few months ago. That’s real progress, however slowly it sometimes feels."
Everlyn nodded, some of her earlier uncertainty easing at the reassurance, and the family settled into the evening’s quiet, considerable rest, one more patient day’s work behind them, and, ahead, whatever the puzzle’s next small piece still had waiting.