Chapter 168 : Under the Cover of Night

The cold at high altitude was biting, even penetrating the protective layer of Incursio. Tatsumi flew in total silence, with only the soft whisper of the wind around his dragon wings as his companion. Far below, the mountains looked like the giant spine of a sleeping creature under a velvet blanket of night. His first mission had begun, and every nerve in his body was taut with concentration.

He remembered Akame's words. "Think of yourself as the wind, not a bird."

That meant he couldn't just rely on power. He had to become part of the environment. When a strong gust of wind came from the west, he didn't fight it. Instead, he slightly folded his right wing, letting the wind push him in a gentle arc, conserving energy and making him seem like a natural anomaly, not an intruder. When the pale moonlight broke through a gap in the clouds, threatening to illuminate his silver armor, he focused completely. He didn't just wish to be invisible; he proactively tried to alter his armor's properties. Incursio's shimmering surface slowly dimmed, turning into a matte gray that absorbed light, an instant camouflage born from his newfound will and control.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, he arrived above the target. From an altitude of a thousand meters, the PLF camp looked like a collection of isolated fireflies in an ocean of darkness. He circled silently, the optical lens in his helmet active, zooming in on the scene with incredible detail.

He found the perfect perch: a thick branch near the top of a giant pine tree towering at the edge of the camp, completely hidden in the shadows. With his newly acquired grace, he landed without a sound, his wings folding smoothly against his back. From there, he was an unseen, observing god. His visor began to record. He documented everything: the layout of the barracks, the guards' patrol routes, the type of weapons they carried—standard energy rifles—and a brutal training ground, filled with mud and barbed wire. His attention was drawn to a larger tent in the center of the camp, more heavily guarded than the others. The command tent.

In the dark war room of the villa, only the light from the monitors illuminated the tense faces of Hawks and Akame. One screen displayed a blurry thermal image of the camp, with a single small heat signature—Tatsumi—motionless at its edge. Another screen showed the audio waves from the silent communication channel, only occasionally picking up the sound of Tatsumi's controlled breathing.

"He's in position," Hawks whispered, his eyes glued to the screen. "Stable and undetected."

"The easy part is over," Akame replied, her eyes never blinking. "The real challenge begins when he has to move again. Or when something unexpected happens. Instinct is the greatest enemy in a mission like this."

Hawks nodded, unable to argue. He had trained the kid in strategy, but Akame had trained him for actual war. He could only hope the lessons were enough. Every minute that passed felt like an hour. The boy's safety, the secrecy of their alliance, and the fragile balance of the three-way war all depended on the silence of that one heat signature on the monitor.

Inside the warm command tent, a stocky man with a buzz cut and a scar on his cheek was yelling at one of his subordinates. His name was Kageyama, the commander of this training camp. His Quirk, "Scent of a Competitor," gave him an incredibly sharp sense of smell, able to detect adrenaline, fear, and other anomalies in the air.

"Your patrol report is useless!" Kageyama growled, slamming a datapad on the table. "You just wrote 'all clear.' I want details! Were there any unusual animal tracks? Did the wind patterns change? The smallest detail could be a sign of an intruder!"

"S-sorry, Commander! There was nothing strange at all!" the soldier replied, trembling.

Kageyama snorted and dismissed him. He walked to the tent's entrance, taking a deep breath of the night air. His sharp sense of smell mapped the surrounding aromas: the scent of damp earth, pine sap, the sweat of the recruits, and smoke from the kitchen. Everything was normal. But... there was something else. Something very faint, almost non-existent. A strange scent of ozone, like the air after a small lightning strike, mixed with a scent he couldn't identify... a scent that felt ancient and powerful.

"Hmph," he muttered. "Probably just my imagination." He went back inside his tent, but the uneasy feeling lingered in his mind.

From his perch, Tatsumi saw the commander come out and sniff the air. His heart stopped for a beat. Was he detected? But the man went back inside. Tatsumi let out a quiet sigh of relief and refocused on his mission. He had recorded enough general data. Now he needed faces. He aimed his camera at the command tent, hoping the man would come out again.

Just then, his attention was diverted. A door from one of the barracks opened, and a group of bruised-looking youths were led out to a second, more hidden training arena. They were new recruits. A cruel instructor began to scream at them, forcing them through impossible physical drills.

One recruit, a skinny boy who was probably only fifteen, stumbled and fell into the mud. The instructor didn't help him. Instead, he kicked the boy hard in the stomach. The boy coughed, trying to get up, but a second kick kept him on the ground.

Something inside Tatsumi snapped.

It was a sight he had seen countless times in his old world. The strong oppressing the weak. His hero's heart, the spirit of Night Raid that defended the people, screamed for him to intervene. He could be there in an instant. One quick strike, and that instructor would never hurt anyone again. His dragon instinct surged, sensing prey that deserved punishment. The energy claws he had trained with almost formed on his fingertips before he forcefully suppressed them.

Do not engage.

Hawks' voice echoed in his mind, cold and absolute.

This was his test. Not a test of strength or speed, but a test of discipline. A test of choosing a long-term strategic victory over short-term moral satisfaction. With a bitter taste in his mouth, Tatsumi forced himself to remain still. But he did the next best thing. He aimed his lens at the brutal scene, recording every kick, every whimper. The instructor's face was now clearly recorded. This was no longer just a training camp; it was a torture camp. This intelligence was invaluable.

After a few agonizing minutes, he knew he had enough. He had to leave before his luck ran out. With extremely slow and controlled movements, he prepared to fly, his muscles tensing.

Suddenly, from inside the command tent, Kageyama shot out, his head tilted up directly towards the tree where Tatsumi was. "I'm sure I smell ozone from that direction!"

Tatsumi froze. He was caught.

There was no time to think. He leaped from the branch, his wings unfurling, and with one powerful, desperate flap, he shot upwards, towards the cover of the clouds.

"There!" Kageyama shouted, pointing at the streaking shadow. "ACTIVATE AIR DEFENSES! SHOOT THAT THING DOWN!"

Sirens began to wail throughout the camp. Searchlights swept the sky. Several automated gun turrets began to swivel towards him.

His reconnaissance mission had just turned into an escape mission.

He dived and weaved, pushing his flying abilities to their absolute limit. Energy lasers shot past him, searing the night air. He couldn't fight back. He could only run.

After a series of heart-stopping maneuvers, he finally managed to get out of their firing range, slipping into the deep darkness behind a mountain peak. His heart hammered against his chest. He had failed to maintain secrecy.

Panting, he activated his comms. His voice was tired and laden with adrenaline.

"Hawks... I'm out. Mission partially successful, partially failed. I... I was seen during exfiltration."

A moment of silence on the other end, before Hawks' voice came back, audibly tense. "It's alright, kid. The important thing is you're safe. Return to base. Now."

Tatsumi flew back towards the coast, the shadow of the now fully alert camp shrinking behind him. He had obtained the intelligence, but at a high price. He had shown the enemy that there was a ghost in their night sky. The shadow war had just become a lot more complicated.