Thunderbird's masked face remained still, but Azalea could feel the way his unseen eyes narrowed at her. "Only the weak make excuses for their incompetence," he said, his tone low and cutting. Azalea bristled as he took a slow step forward, his presence pressing down on her like a tangible force. "If you were actually useful, you wouldn’t still be stuck inside the Ministry, completely blind to half of what’s going on," he sneered. "Do you even realize how much we lost tonight? That failure is on you."
Azalea’s anger boiled over. "Don’t you dare pin this on me, Thunderbird!" she snarled. "Every time something goes wrong, you shove the blame onto someone else. And when things go right, you hoard all the credit for yourself. You’re shameless."
A tense silence settled between them.
Azalea suddenly felt the absurdity of the situation. Here they were, arguing so fiercely, yet neither of them had an actual face to show for it, just two blank masks staring at each other in the dim light. Her voice dropped slightly, the fire still burning behind her words. "And don’t act like I didn’t warn you about the Ministry’s new equipment. I reported it. I told you it would cause problems for the operation. But no, you ignored me. Thought you knew better. And now we are the ones paying for your mistake."
Thunderbird stood silent for a moment. Then, with a scoff, he turned away.
Azalea watched him carefully, still gripping her wand. "Typical, And let’s not forget," she said coldly, "last time your men were the ones who got sloppy and nearly led the Aurors straight to us. If I hadn’t cleaned up after you, you wouldn’t have been able to move those goods out so easily, "
"Enough!" Thunderbird’s voice cracked through the space like a whip. He hadn’t expected her to push back so forcefully. For a moment, he studied her, his head tilting slightly, as if surprised by the defiance in her tone. Then, his voice dropped into something quieter, something more dangerous. "The past is the past. I’m not interested in assigning blame. But listen to me very carefully, Azalea." His words were deliberate, measured, each one carrying the weight of a threat. "You exist to serve the club. You will serve it wholeheartedly. If you ever forget that… I don’t think I need to remind you what happens to those who fail to comply."
A thick silence hung between them.
Azalea clenched her fists, her breathing slow and controlled, but the tension in her frame was undeniable. Behind her mask, her sharp glare was locked onto him, brimming with barely restrained fury.
Thunderbird merely chuckled, amused by her defiance. "Don’t look at me like that," he said, his voice slipping back into that mocking tone. "You don’t exactly have the subtlety to hide your emotions. And weaklings who glare at the strong? They only invite their own misfortune. Consider this your last warning."
Azalea felt a heavy pressure settle on her shoulders, her body instinctively reacting to the oppressive weight of his presence. A thin layer of cold sweat formed on her back, though she refused to let it show.
Thunderbird allowed the silence to stretch before finally shifting gears. "Now, where’s the package? Did you get it?"
Azalea scoffed. "What do you think? If I didn’t, would I have come back so easily?" Reaching into the small interspatial bag secured at her waist, she retrieved eight jammers and handed them over. "Four anti-Apparition jammers, four shielding jammers."
Thunderbird took one of the sleek metal rods, turning it over in his gloved hands. The dim light reflected off its surface as he examined it closely. "You’re sure this thing is as effective as you claim?"
Azalea folded her arms, unimpressed. "Didn’t you get a firsthand demonstration just two days ago?" He shot her a look, but she continued without hesitation. "I spoke to a few Aurors afterward," she said, keeping her tone cool and professional now that the conversation had shifted to business. "They laid out several shielding jammers before the operation. The result? Their wards became strong enough to almost match yours. More importantly, these jammers completely bypassed your standard detection spells, you had no idea they were there."
Thunderbird’s fingers tapped idly against the device as he listened. "But the real problem," Azalea went on, "was the anti-Apparition disruptors. Once they activated those, your men had no way to escape."
Thunderbird’s grip on the jammer tightened slightly. "So that’s how it was," he muttered. His voice was unreadable, but there was an edge of realization there, perhaps even unease. "And the tracking method they used… that was alchemy, too?"
Azalea nodded. "Yes. That, and the new gear provided by Wilson Alchemy shop, or, if you want the full name, Wilson’s Arcane Alchemica . Thanks to their equipment, most Aurors have been wearing tracking glasses for the past few months."
Thunderbird’s masked face tilted slightly. "Tracking glasses?"
"Yes. After the last job, they found the traces your people left behind and conducted a large-scale sweep. That’s how they locked onto the drop site so quickly. It wasn’t just bad luck, it was technology."
Thunderbird went silent, turning the jammer over in his hand again as if reevaluating the very concept of it. A low, humorless chuckle escaped him. "So that’s why those useless Aurors suddenly became so competent. Turns out, they weren’t relying on their own skills at all. Just clinging to their fancy toys." His fingers flexed slightly, and for a brief moment, it looked as though he might crush the jammer out of sheer frustration. Instead, he exhaled sharply and tossed it back into his cloak.
Azalea, watching him, rolled her eyes. ‘What era do we even live in?’ she thought to herself. ‘Did he really still believe that magic alone was enough? That they could win by wands alone, ignoring the rapid advancements happening around them These old-school wizards clinging to their outdated ways… they were the real fools.
Thunderbird barely spared them a glance before scoffing in disgust. "I'm not interested in relying on alchemical creations. Depending too much on these things weakens your resolve. I suggest you do the same. Just like those enchanted boots you brought back last time, sure, they give you a temporary speed boost, but that power isn’t yours. Don’t let yourself grow dependent on it."
Azalea narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me? You ordered me to steal these, and now that I’ve risked my neck to get them, you’re telling me you don’t want them? What if the Ministry catches you next time? Are you really so stubborn that you’d put your pride over the club?"
Thunderbird’s arrogance was unbearable. And the irony of it all, this man who looked down on alchemy was standing here in an enchanted mask, using alchemy to conceal his face. Maybe he should toss that away too. "I have no use for them myself," Thunderbird said dismissively, his voice an irritating drone in her ears. "But that doesn’t mean the club won’t find them useful. I’ll distribute them to those who need them when the time comes." He waved a gloved hand. "For now, you keep them. I’ll collect them later when I have use for them."