Marshall entered Trench's office, her expression as unreadable as ever. She closed the door behind her and crossed her arms, waiting for the Director to speak.
"They're still in there," Trench began, gesturing toward the monitors displaying static-laden feeds from the Astral Plane. "Darling and his team. The longer they stay, the more… concerned I get."
Marshall raised an eyebrow. "You think they're not coming back?"
"No," Trench replied, though the hesitation in his voice betrayed his confidence. "But I've seen what the Plane does to people. You've seen it too. It's unpredictable. Ruthless. Darling's brilliance could just as easily be his downfall."
Marshall's gaze softened slightly. "He's not alone out there. Ashton and Alexander are capable. And Darling… he's smarter than most. If anyone can navigate the Plane, it's him."
Trench sighed, leaning back in his chair. "It's not just about navigating. It's what they might bring back. The entity they encountered… the Board called it an intrusion. They were… agitated. More than usual."
Marshall frowned. "The Board doesn't get agitated. Cryptic, sure. But agitated? That's new."
"Exactly," Trench said, his tone grave. "Whatever's in there, it's bigger than we realized. And Darling…" He paused, his voice dropping. "Darling's drawn to it. Like a moth to a flame."
Marshall took a step closer to the desk. "Do you want me to prepare a retrieval team? Bring them back before things get worse?"
Trench shook his head. "No. Not yet. We need answers. But if they're not back in the next hour…" He trailed off, the weight of the unspoken threat hanging in the air.
Marshall nodded. "Understood."
As she turned to leave, Trench's voice stopped her. "Marshall. If something happens to him…" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "You'll make sure the Bureau knows what he's done. What he's sacrificed."
Marshall glanced back, her expression unreadable. "Of course, Director."
The door closed behind her, leaving Trench alone with his thoughts. The static on the monitors seemed to grow louder, filling the room with an oppressive hum. Lighting another cigarette, he stared at the swirling smoke, willing the minutes to pass faster.