"We need to report this through proper channels." Aiden said, pacing the small safehouse as he reviewed the extracted data for the third time. "If I bring this to the right people at the Bank—"

"The 'right people' are probably the ones behind it." Morgana cut in, arms crossed. "You want to hand evidence to the very system that manufactured it?"

"Not blindly. Carefully. There are internal oversight channels that exist outside the Chief Executive's direct control—"

"Channels that move at the speed of bureaucracy, while people keep losing everything in the meantime." Morgana shot back. "We should move now, expose this publicly before they can bury it."

"And get ourselves killed, or worse, discredited before anyone takes it seriously?" Aiden countered, frustration creeping into his usually measured voice. "This needs proof stacked on proof, not a reckless leak that gets dismissed as gang propaganda."

"Careful, Aiden. That almost sounded like you don't trust my judgment." Morgana said, arching an eyebrow.

"I trust your judgment plenty. I just don't trust the Board not to twist a leak into exactly the narrative they wanted in the first place — evidence of a dangerous gang destabilizing the city, rather than evidence of their own corruption."

Morgana fell quiet for a moment, turning the point over despite herself. She hated admitting it, but the logic held.

They argued for several more minutes, both digging into their positions with the stubbornness of two people used to being the one making final decisions. But gradually, the sharp edges of their disagreement began to soften into something almost playful.

"You know," Morgana said, a smirk tugging at her lips, "for someone who broke into a Bank vault last night, you're awfully attached to proper channels."

"You know," Aiden replied, matching her tone, "for someone who claims to hate bureaucracy, you negotiated our contract like a seasoned diplomat."

She laughed — a real laugh, surprising them both. "Fine. Maybe we're both a little bit right. We investigate further, quietly, before deciding how to act. Compromise."

"Compromise." Aiden agreed, something warm settling in his chest at how naturally they'd found their way back to common ground.

They spent the next hour cross-referencing the extracted records, eventually isolating the name that kept resurfacing across dozens of fraudulent loans: Baron Dresthorne, a dragon financier known publicly for legitimate investments across Ledgerhold, but whose name now appeared buried within transaction after transaction tied to the manufactured debt crisis.

"A dragon Baron with ties to tax evasion and now this." Morgana said, studying the file, her expression darkening. "That's not a small target. He's got connections deep into the city council."

"No," Aiden agreed, a new weight settling over the investigation. "It's not. Which means we move carefully, and we make absolutely sure of what we're dealing with before we act."

Morgana nodded, already turning over the logistics of infiltration in her mind, the earlier argument entirely forgotten beneath the shared focus of the challenge now laid out clearly before them both.