Sam had returned home; it was 07 o'clock.The dim glow of the city lights seeped through the window, casting faint shadows across the room. He was lost in deep thought, eyes glued to the glowing screen of his phone on the cluttered table in front of him. The digits ticked slowly, each second feeling like an eternity. His foot kept shaking restlessly—an outward sign of the storm inside. Despite the cold weather outside, beads of sweat dotted his forehead, trickling down his temple, making his skin glisten under the sparse light.
*"Will I have to kill someone?"*
*"What else do they want from me?"*
*"Is Sato part of all this too?"*
Many such thoughts twisted like knots in his mind, troubling him profoundly. His breathing was shallow, uneven.
Suddenly, Sam pushed himself up from the chair with a jerky motion. His legs felt heavy, and he moved mechanically toward the bathroom. The cold tiles beneath his feet contrasted sharply with the clammy warmth of his skin. Standing in front of the mirror, he stared at his reflection—pale, exhausted, looking like he hadn't slept in days. His beard had grown unevenly, shadows darkening his jawline. His eyes looked hollow, tired from sleepless nights, haunted by unseen fears.
He opened the cabinet next to the mirror, its surface slightly dusty, and took out a razor. His hand trembled as he pressed it to his face. The mirror reflected his anxious expression—faint lines etched around his eyes, a face that seemed more like a stranger's than his own. He started shaving, the razor scraping softly against his skin, the sound almost rhythmic in the silence. In just a few minutes, his face was clean-shaven, the redness from shaving faint but evident.
Next, he turned on the shower. The water roared loudly as it hit the tiles l. He stood under the spray, letting the cold water wash away the sweat, tension, and grime. When he stepped out, wrapped in a towel, he looked somewhat more composed—at least outwardly.
Ignoring his reflection, he roughly tousled his damp hair, ruffling it into disarray, then grabbed fresh clothes from the wardrobe—simple, dark, unremarkable. He changed quickly, quickly slipping into his jacket, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down.
He grabbed Jacob's bike from outside, its sleek black frame gleaming under the streetlights. He swung his leg over, the leather seat cool beneath him, and started riding through the quiet, empty streets of Minato Ward. The city hummed softly around him—distant sirens, the faint hum of cars, neon signs flickering in the night. His hands gripped the handlebars tightly, knuckles white, every bump in the road jarring his nerves.
About half an hour later, he finally arrived in front of the Obsidian Tower.
The tower loomed like a dark monolith against the night sky, its glass surface reflecting the shimmering city lights. Its sleek, square silhouette was both mesmerizing and intimidating—an architectural marvel that screamed luxury and power. The obsidian-black façade seemed to swallow the surrounding light, giving it an almost hypnotic allure.
Sam dismounted, removing his helmet with a slow, deliberate motion. His fingers trembled slightly as he placed the helmet on the bike's handlebar. He looked up at the towering structure, swallowing hard. His eyes traced its sharp edges from bottom to top—each floor seemingly carved from black glass, the edges shimmering with a faint sheen of polish.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle in his chest, and stepped forward. The enormous glass doors hissed softly as they slid open, revealing a well-lit, opulent lobby. Marble floors gleamed beneath his feet—polished to perfection, cold to the touch. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and polished wood.
As he moved forward, his eyes caught the reception desk ahead. A young woman sat behind it, her face focused on her monitor, her fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced ease. She looked up as he approached, a gentle smile breaking her concentration.
"Hello, I'm Sam… You hired me as a waiter," he said, voice slightly hoarse.
She turned toward him, her smile warm but professional. "Hello, sir. Please wait a moment while I check." She pivoted back to her screen, her fingers dancing across the keys, the soft clicking echoing in the quiet.
Sam shifted uncomfortably, glancing around at the lavish surroundings—marble pillars, golden accents, the faint hum of air conditioning. The luxurious aura made him feel like a small, insignificant piece in a much larger game.
After a moment, she looked up again, her expression polite. "Samael Roberts, is it?" she asked softly.
He nodded quickly, feeling a strange mix of nerves and resolve.
The receptionist's smile grew warmer. "Sir, please submit your mobile and ID card." Her voice was gentle but firm.
Surprised, Sam hesitated for a split second but then reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and. He took them out and placed them on the counter as she took them, her movements precise and efficient.
She handed him some documents with a pen. Her eyes met his briefly,"Please read this contract carefully and sign when you're ready… take your time."
He took the papers, feeling the weight of the moment. The faint scent of lavender from her perfume mixed with the sterile smell of his surroundings. His gaze flickered over the text—just the first two lines—and he signed, feeling the cold paper under his fingertips.
She handed him a sleek keycard, her smile softening. "This is your access. The room number is on your key."
Sam held the card tightly, studying it briefly. His mind raced with questions—what awaits him upstairs? Is he truly ready?
Just then, she called out again, her tone polite but commanding. "Sir! Please this way."
Sam blinked, surprised. "Why stairs, when the elevator is right there?" he wondered, frowning slightly, but he nodded and started towards the luxurious staircase instead. A grand, polished marble staircase spiraled upward, its handrails gleaming gold. The faint echo of his footsteps resonated as he ascended, the ambient lighting subtly shifting to highlight the opulence around him.
After ten minutes of climbing, exhausted and drenched in sweat, Sam finally reached the right door.
His legs trembled, and his breath was ragged. He fumbled with the keycard, swiping it across the sensor, the faint beep sounding too loud in the stillness. The door slid open with a smooth hiss, revealing a bland, almost sterile room.
His vision blurred—the world spun, and he staggered forward. His voice faltered as he mumbled, *"Why is the floor coming so close?"*—before he collapsed face down onto the cold floor with a thud.
________________________________________
The car came to a halt with a sharp screech. Alexa glanced toward Sara, who was drifting into a half-sleep to the rhythm of the cool breeze and the low music. Her eyes were fluttering, struggling to stay open. Alexa smiled softly, she unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out, rounding the car to open the passenger door."We're home, sweety," she said, her voice dripping with affection.
Sara's eyes snapped open. Alexa offered a hand with a warm smile. Still heavy with sleep, Sara reached out and took it. As she stepped out, the bite of the night air nipped at her bare arms, sending a brief shiver through her, but she quickly composed herself.
She took the lead, walking toward the house as Alexa followed close behind, clicking the car door shut.They walked side-by-side across the sprawling lawn. Almost imperceptibly, Alexa slid an arm around Sara's waist, drawing her closer. Sara remained silent, offering no resistance.
As they stepped through the living room gates, they found Max and Hazel completely absorbed in a movie.Alexa's eyes widened in genuine shock.
Sitting right there on the other sofa, tucked between Max and Hazel, was Mr. Li, watching the screen with intense focus.
"Ahem," Sara cleared her throat to get their attention.Max looked up. "Oh, Sara! You're back. Have a seat." He said still completely engroosed in his movie,
Sara and Alexa exchanged a bewildered look. A small smile played on Sara's lips as she watched the trio. She turned to Alexa and whispered, "You sit. I'm heading to the room." Alexa nodded and took a spot next to Max, while Sara disappeared toward the stairs.
________________________________________
...
The harsh morning light pierced through his eyelids, forcing Sam to wake with a groan of irritation. He stared up at the ceiling; it looked foreign. It took a few moments for his senses to return—enough to realize he wasn't in his own home. He bolted upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"So, you're finally awake."
The voice made him freeze. He looked up to see a man standing before a massive window, a cigarette dangling from his hand.
"Y-yeah," Sam managed to stammer.
The man crushed the cigarette into a nearby ashtray and turned, sliding a hand into his pocket. Sam watched him intently. The man began to walk forward with a faint smile—a smile that felt less like a greeting and more like a threat.
As he drew near, Sam instinctively recoiled.
"I hope the bed was comfortable, Sam," the man said, his voice as deep as the ocean and as unnervingly calm as the dead of night. He possessed a terrifyingly cold aura that made the hair on Sam's neck stand up. Behind his glasses, his eyes held a frigid intensity that felt as though they were stripping Sam's skin bare.
He reached out, grazing Sam's cheek with his hand. "A good night's rest is essential before... a difficult conversation."
Even through the leather of his gloves, his fingers felt icy, freezing Sam in place. Sam tried to shrink back further.
"Give it a rest, Renji. What's the point of scaring a bird that's already trapped in a cage?"
A playful, mischievous voice cut through the tension. Renji straightened up and stepped away from Sam.
"Shut up, Nao," he muttered, his tone flickering with frustration.
"What did I even do?" Nao laughed. "You're looming over a poor kid like some kind of monster. I'm just calling it like I see it."
Sam watched the newcomer. The boy was different—wilder. He sat there twirling a golden knife between his fingers with effortless grace.
"Then you handle him. Your new toy. Ten minutes," Renji snapped before stalking out of the room.
Nao looked at Sam. In a blur of motion, a golden flash hissed past Sam's ear. Thud. The knife buried itself deep into the wall behind him. Sam's heart leapt into his throat as he scrambled to his feet.
"Relax..." Nao said nonchalantly, as if brushing against death was merely a game.
Sam was trembling, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He had never felt this helpless before.
Nao approached him, closing the distance until Sam was forced back down onto the bed. Nao leaned in close, bracing one hand against the wall. With the other, he gently wiped the sweat from Sam's brow.
"Are you really that scared of me? Hmm?" Nao arched an eyebrow, bringing his face inches from Sam's, he asked softly.
Sam tried to retreat, eventually closing his eyes and turning his head away. Nao let out a soft chuckle. He stepped back, plucking his knife from the wall.
"What did you think I was going to do?" he asked sarcastically. "You're nothing but a toy to me. Catch."
He tossed a bundle toward Sam. "Change into these and come with me. Otherwise, Renji is going to lose his mind." Sam caught the clothes and bolted for the restroom.
...
Three minutes later, Sam emerged to find Nao lounging on a sofa, engrossed in a handheld game.
"If you keep taking this long, you might as well order your coffin now," Nao remarked dryly, sarcastically.
"W-what do you mean?" Sam asked, confised not understanding the sarscam...,
Nao just glared at him. "Forget it. Let's go."
Sam followed him up another twenty steps to a different room where Renji was waiting. As they entered, Renji glanced at his watch.
"Nine minutes, fifty-nine seconds. Is it?"
"To the second," Nao replied proudly. Renji didn't answer. He walked to the wall and flipped a switch. Instantly, the room was crisscrossed with glowing red beams—an alarm system.
Sam stared, breathless. "W-what is this?"
"Did you really think we brought you here just to give you training of serving food?" Nao's voice had shifted. The playful glint was gone, replaced by something hard. Sam wasn't even surprised by the change anymore; he knew by now that the man in front of him was half-insane, and that now he is stuck at a place where exit is not an easy game like playing marbels.
Renji stepped forward and handed Sam a tray loaded with food.
"When you hear the beep, move. Every one of those rays carries a high-voltage current. Do not touch them." He paused, locking eyes with Sam with that same oceanic depth. "And don't drop a single thing from that tray. If you do, you'll be your own reason to face the punishment."
The threat made Sam's blood run cold. They led him to the starting point.
"On the count of three," Renji commanded.
Sam took his position, his mind racing to process the danger.
"Three!" Nao shouted.
A sharp beep echoed through the room. Panicked, Sam lunged forward. He held the tray with a white-knuckled grip, but his nerves betrayed him. On his second step, he clipped a beam. A jolt of electricity tore through his body.
Sam screamed. Despite his best efforts to hold on, the tray slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor. Renji instantly drop the switch, and the rays stopped. Sam collapsed, breathless and trembling. Nao who has been noticing him from a bit far standing next to renji arms folded,
He approached him, twirling a whip-like cord in his hand. He crouched down beside the fallen boy, a dark smile on his lips.
"Rule number one: No matter how unpredictable the situation is... stay alert. And never, ever panic."
He spoke in a tone so bone-chillingly serious it felt like a blade pressing against Sam's skin.
There wasn't a trace of mercy on his face. He stood up, the whip-like cord whistling through the air before it struck Sam with a brutal, stinging force.
"Aghhh!" Sam's scream tore through the room, his body convoking from the sudden agony.
"Get up in the next ten seconds," Nao said, turning his back as if the violence meant nothing to him. "Or the punishment will only multiply."
He walked back to stand beside Renji, leaving Sam alone on the floor. Trembling, Sam gathered every ounce of strength left in his battered body and forced himself to stand once more
-----------------------------------------------------------
Alexa waited for fifteen minutes, but when Sara didn't return, the restlessness became too much. She stood up and headed for the stairs. Soon, she was standing before Sara's door. She knocked once. No answer. She knocked again. Still, silence. After the third attempt, Alexa didn't hesitate; she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was bathed in a dim, golden glow, drowning in semi-darkness. The maroon sheets on the bed were perfectly smooth, without a single wrinkle—as if no one had even dared to touch them. Alexa scanned the room until she spotted Sara out on the balcony.
Sara stood there in a baby-pink silk nightgown, a light brown robe thrown soberly over her shoulders. Her hair was gathered in a loose, effortless style. She looked lost in a world of her own. Alexa took off her coat, draped it over the chair at Sara's study table, and walked out to join her. She stood beside her, silent. Sara felt her presence but didn't speak; she didn't want to shift the trajectory of her thoughts. Leaning forward, she gripped the balcony railing with both hands, letting her weight rest there.
A few moments passed in heavy silence. Sara stared out into the dark landscape with hollow eyes, her quietness fueling Alexa's curiosity. Alexa turned to look at her. Silky brown strands and a few stray locks had escaped Sara's hair, dancing playfully against her neck and face in the gentle breeze. Sara didn't move to brush them away. In profile, she looked breathtakingly beautiful.
Almost involuntarily, Alexa reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Sara's ear. Sara turned her head. In that moment, her empty gaze collided with Alexa's intoxicated, longing eyes. For Alexa, time simply stopped. She searched Sara's eyes, trying to read every ounce of agony the other girl was enduring.
Then, the corner of Sara's lips twitched. She offered a soft, faint smile. "What happened?"
The spell broke. Alexa blinked, trying to compose herself, her flustered state only making Sara's smile grow deeper.
"Mhmm," Alexa cleared her throat.
In the distance, the giant, shadowy trees swayed in the wind, their rustling leaves creating a haunting melody in the dark.
"What have you been thinking about all this time?" Alexa asked, desperate to clear the awkward air.
"Just... nothing. Nothing at all," Sara dismissed it.
But Alexa remained unsettled. A few more moments ticked by. "Sara?" she asked, gathering every bit of courage she possessed.
"Hm?" Sara turned her full attention toward her.
Alexa took Sara's hand—cold from the night air—into her own warm ones. She began to stroke Sara's long fingers gently with her thumb. "I... I want to tell you something."
"Tell me," Sara replied with that same soft smile, gripping Alexa's hand in return.
"I..." Alexa bit her lip. "I love you... Sara."
Alexa's heart hammered against her ribs. She was trembling with nerves. But in the next second, all the color drained from her face.
"I know," Sara said, still smiling.
The response sent a jolt through Alexa's stomach. "Y-you know?" she stammered, shocked.
"Hm. I've known from the start."
A chill ran down Alexa's spine. "B-but how? I thought I hid it well."
This time, Sara actually laughed—a soft, hollow sound. She gently withdrew her hand from Alexa's, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know, Alexa... love is like a fragrance. It can never be hidden, no matter how hard someone tries."
The car came to a halt with a sharp screech. Alexa glanced toward Sara, who was drifting into a half-sleep to the rhythm of the cool breeze and the low music. Her eyes were fluttering, struggling to stay open. Alexa unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out, rounding the car to open the passenger door.
"We're home, sweety," she said, her voice dripping with affection.
Sara's eyes snapped open. Alexa offered a hand with a warm smile. Still heavy with sleep, Sara reached out and took it. As she stepped out, the bite of the night air nipped at her bare arms, sending a brief shiver through her, but she quickly composed herself. She took the lead, walking toward the house as Alexa followed close behind, clicking the car door shut.
They walked side-by-side across the sprawling lawn. Almost imperceptibly, Alexa slid an arm around Sara's waist, drawing her closer. Sara remained silent, offering no resistance. As they stepped through the living room gates, they found Max and Hazel completely absorbed in a movie.
Alexa's eyes widened in genuine shock. Sitting right there on the other sofa, tucked between Max and Hazel, was Mr. Li, watching the screen with intense focus.
"Ahem," Sara cleared her throat to get their attention.
Max looked up. "Oh, Sara! You're back. Have a seat."
Sara and Alexa exchanged a bewildered look. A small smile played on Sara's lips as she watched the trio. She turned to Alexa and whispered, "You sit. I'm heading to the room." Alexa nodded and took a spot next to Max, while Sara disappeared toward the stairs.
...
The harsh morning light pierced through his eyelids, forcing Sam to wake with a groan of irritation. He stared up at the ceiling; it looked foreign. It took a few moments for his senses to return—enough to realize he wasn't in his own home. He bolted upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"So, you're finally awake."
The voice made him freeze. He looked up to see a man standing before a massive window, a cigarette dangling from his hand.
"Y-yeah," Sam managed to stammer.
The man crushed the cigarette into a nearby ashtray and turned, sliding a hand into his trouser pocket. Sam watched him intently. The man began to walk forward with a faint smile—a smile that felt less like a greeting and more like a threat.
As he drew near, Sam instinctively recoiled.
"I hope the bed was comfortable, Sam," the man said, his voice as deep as the ocean and as unnervingly calm as the dead of night. He possessed a terrifyingly cold aura that made the hair on Sam's neck stand up. Behind his glasses, his eyes held a frigid intensity that felt as though they were stripping Sam's skin bare.
He reached out, grazing Sam's cheek with his hand. "A good night's rest is essential before... a difficult conversation."
Even through the leather of his gloves, his fingers felt icy, freezing Sam in place. Sam tried to shrink back further.
"Give it a rest, Renji. What's the point of scaring a bird that's already trapped in a cage?"
A playful, mischievous voice cut through the tension. Renji straightened up and stepped away from Sam.
"Shut up, Nao," he muttered, his tone flickering with frustration.
"What did I even do?" Nao laughed. "You're looming over a poor kid like some kind of monster. I'm just calling it like I see it."
Sam watched the newcomer. The boy was different—wilder. He sat there twirling a golden knife between his fingers with effortless grace.
"Then you handle him. Your new toy. Ten minutes," Renji snapped before stalking out of the room.
Nao looked at Sam. In a blur of motion, a golden flash hissed past Sam's ear. Thud. The knife buried itself deep into the wall behind him. Sam's heart leapt into his throat as he scrambled to his feet.
"Relax..." Nao said nonchalantly, as if brushing against death was merely a game.
Sam was trembling, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He had never felt this helpless. Nao approached him, closing the distance until Sam was forced back down onto the bed. Nao leaned in close, bracing one hand against the wall. With the other, he gently wiped the sweat from Sam's brow.
"Are you really that scared of me? Hmm?" Nao arched an eyebrow, bringing his face inches from Sam's.
Sam tried to retreat, eventually closing his eyes and turning his head away. Nao let out a soft chuckle. He stepped back, plucking his knife from the wall.
"What did you think I was going to do?" he asked sarcastically. "You're nothing but a toy to me. Catch."
He tossed a bundle toward Sam. "Change into these and come with me. Otherwise, Renji is going to lose his mind." Sam caught the clothes and bolted for the restroom.
...
Three minutes later, Sam emerged to find Nao lounging on a sofa, engrossed in a handheld game.
"If you keep taking this long, you might as well order your coffin now," Nao remarked dryly.
"W-what do you mean?"
Nao just glared at him. "Forget it. Let's go."
Sam followed him up another twenty steps to a different room where Renji was waiting. As they entered, Renji glanced at his watch.
"Nine minutes, fifty-nine seconds. Is it?"
"To the second," Nao replied proudly. Renji didn't answer. He walked to the wall and flipped a switch. Instantly, the room was crisscrossed with glowing red beams—an alarm system.
Sam stared, breathless. "W-what is this?"
"Did you really think we brought you here just to serve food?" Nao's voice had shifted. The playful glint was gone, replaced by something hard. Sam wasn't even surprised by the change anymore; he knew by now that the man in front of him was half-insane.
Renji stepped forward and handed Sam a tray loaded with food.
"When you hear the beep, move. Every one of those rays carries a high-voltage current. Do not touch them." He paused, locking eyes with Sam with that same oceanic depth. "And don't drop a single thing from that tray. If you do, you'll answer to me for the punishment."
The threat made Sam's blood run cold. They led him to the starting point.
"On the count of three," Renji commanded.
Sam took his position, his mind racing to process the danger.
"Three!" Nao shouted.
A sharp beep echoed through the room. Panicked, Sam lunged forward. He held the tray with a white-knuckled grip, but his nerves betrayed him. On his second step, he clipped a beam. A jolt of electricity tore through his body.
Sam screamed. Despite his best efforts to hold on, the tray slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor. Renji instantly killed the power, and Sam collapsed, breathless and trembling.
Nao approached him, twirling a whip-like cord in his hand. He crouched down beside the fallen boy, a dark smile on his lips.
"Rule number one: No matter the situation... stay alert. And never, ever panic."
How does this feel for the opening of the training arc? Should we emphasize Sam's physical exhaustion more in the next scene, or move straight into Renji's reaction to the dropped tray?
"Rule number one," he spoke in a tone so bone-chillingly serious it felt like a blade pressing against Sam's skin. "Whatever the situation... you stay alert. And you do not panic."
There wasn't a trace of mercy on his face. He stood up, the whip-like cord whistling through the air before it struck Sam with a brutal, stinging force.
"Aghhh!" Sam's scream tore through the room, his body convoking from the sudden agony.
"Get up in the next ten seconds," Nao said, turning his back as if the violence meant nothing to him. "Or the punishment will only multiply."
He walked back to stand beside Renji, leaving Sam alone on the floor. Trembling, Sam gathered every ounce of strength left in his battered body and forced himself to stand once more.
The shift in Nao from "playful" to "executioner" is really chilling here. Should we focus the next scene on Sam's internal monologue as he tries to finish the course, or do you want to show Renji's silent observation of Sam's endurance?
This is a beautifully written, emotionally heavy scene. You've captured a very specific kind of heartbreak—the "empty" kind.
Here is the translation into a novelistic English style, preserving your philosophical reflections and the exact tone of the dialogue:
Alexa waited for fifteen minutes, but when Sara didn't return, the restlessness became too much. She stood up and headed for the stairs. Soon, she was standing before Sara's door. She knocked once. No answer. She knocked again. Still, silence. After the third attempt, Alexa didn't hesitate; she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was bathed in a dim, golden glow, drowning in semi-darkness. The maroon sheets on the bed were perfectly smooth, without a single wrinkle—as if no one had even dared to touch them. Alexa scanned the room until she spotted Sara out on the balcony.
Sara stood there in a baby-pink silk nightgown, a light brown robe thrown soberly over her shoulders. Her hair was gathered in a loose, effortless style. She looked lost in a world of her own. Alexa took off her coat, draped it over the chair at Sara's study table, and walked out to join her. She stood beside her, silent. Sara felt her presence but didn't speak; she didn't want to shift the trajectory of her thoughts. Leaning forward, she gripped the balcony railing with both hands, letting her weight rest there.
A few moments passed in heavy silence. Sara stared out into the dark landscape with hollow eyes, her quietness fueling Alexa's curiosity. Alexa turned to look at her. Silky brown strands and a few stray locks had escaped Sara's hair, dancing playfully against her neck and face in the gentle breeze. Sara didn't move to brush them away. In profile, she looked breathtakingly beautiful.
Almost involuntarily, Alexa reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Sara's ear. Sara turned her head. In that moment, her empty gaze collided with Alexa's intoxicated, longing eyes. For Alexa, time simply stopped. She searched Sara's eyes, trying to read every ounce of agony the other girl was enduring.
Then, the corner of Sara's lips twitched. She offered a soft, faint smile. "What happened?"
The spell broke. Alexa blinked, trying to compose herself, her flustered state only making Sara's smile grow deeper.
"Mhmm," Alexa cleared her throat.
In the distance, the giant, shadowy trees swayed in the wind, their rustling leaves creating a haunting melody in the dark.
"What have you been thinking about all this time?" Alexa asked, desperate to clear the awkward air.
"Just... nothing. Nothing at all," Sara dismissed it.
But Alexa remained unsettled. A few more moments ticked by. "Sara?" she asked, gathering every bit of courage she possessed.
"Hm?" Sara turned her full attention toward her.
Alexa took Sara's hand—cold from the night air—into her own warm ones. She began to stroke Sara's long fingers gently with her thumb. "I... I want to tell you something."
"Tell me," Sara replied with that same soft smile, gripping Alexa's hand in return.
"I..." Alexa bit her lip. "I love you... Sara."
Alexa's heart hammered against her ribs. She was trembling with nerves. But in the next second, all the color drained from her face.
"I know," Sara said, still smiling.
The response sent a jolt through Alexa's stomach. "Y-you know?" she stammered, shocked.
"Hm. I've known from the start."
A chill ran down Alexa's spine. "B-but how? I thought I hid it well."
This time, Sara actually laughed—a soft, hollow sound. She gently withdrew her hand from Alexa's, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know, Alexa... love is like a fragrance. It can never be hidden, no matter how hard someone tries."
There was a profound stillness in Sara's voice. She spoke slowly, weighing every word.
"But Sara—"
"Truthfully, Alexa," Sara interrupted, "I don't think I can take this relationship beyond friendship."
Alexa's heart sank. "But why...?"
Sara turned back to the swaying trees, her words coming in measured beats. "Alexa, love is a sickness. And this sickness has seven stages. The final stage... is death. I am at that final stage now. Do you know why?"
She looked at Alexa, whose face was becoming a blur of unreadable emotions. Sara continued, "Because death only looks beautiful to a person who has become weary of the world's brilliance."
"But Sara, Maera is already with Sim. You should move on too," Alexa tried to reason.
"Hmph." Sara let out a dry laugh. "Move on... Alexa, love isn't a filter where if one doesn't look good, you just apply another. Nor is a human a butterfly that must sit on every flower. Love happens with one person... and it happens only once. Everything else is just a 'filter' created by society. In its truest form, for someone to flourish in love, it is necessary for someone else to be destroyed. Love is a connection of soul to soul... and my soul loved one soul to the point of perfection. Now I can't love anyone else anymore."
Alexa clenched her fists, struggling for control. "Sara, you're being so selfish," she said, her voice thick with shock.
Sara smiled. She reached her hand out past the balcony and caught a falling yellow leaf delicately in her palm. "You know, I had this desire to paint her on the canvas of my life, with every color in the world. But.... I was colorblind. Alexa, I'm not being selfish. I just don't know where the love I felt ...is now gone completely, I have puree all my heart now nothing left in me. I don't know... and I have no desire for it to return. Now I don't wait for her, its just that it becomes one of my habit to love her, Do you know why? Because for just one day, I became her angel and asked her to make a wish. And in that moment... in that moment, she wished for someone else."
Sara crushed the leaf in her hand, grinding it into nothingness before letting the wind sweep the fragments away. "So, I gave her what she wanted. And now, I don't know how to feel this emotion—love—anymore. I just can't. I'm sorry, Alexa," she said, her eyes dropping in genuine regret.
Tears welled in Alexa's eyes. She wanted to say so much, but she realized that the door she was knocking on was never hers to begin with. That door had been locked—forever."It's okay, Sara. You don't need to apologize. Maybe it was my mistake. It's late; we'll talk tomorrow."Sara looked at her, and in her eyes, Alexa saw things she didn't recognize.
Regret... pain... grief... and a vast, echoing emptiness.
These weren't the eyes Alexa knew. These were lost eyes. Dead eyes. Eyes that had no hope left to shine, eyes that were simply tired.Forcing a smile, Alexa said, "Good night... Sara."She stepped back into the room and walked toward the study table to retrieve her coat.
As she picked it up, her eyes fell on a sketch lying there. A very neat, detailed sketch of Maera.Alexa stared at it. "Sometimes, I'm jealous of you, Maera," she whispered. A verse of poetry involuntarily escaped her lips: "There is an entire ocean that I have crossed...
yet there is a single moment that I cannot pass through."
She slung her coat over her shoulder, pulled a cigarette from her pocket, lit it, and walked out. As the door shut with a heavy thud, Sara closed and opened her eyes.
Inside her, a voice rose—mocking her, laughing at her.
"Hahaha... honestly, I really enjoyed seeing the look on Alexa's face..."
Sara's lips thinned into a hard line, her voice trembling with a suppressed rage. "Shut your mouth," she hissed.
"Oh, please... who do you think you're showing this attitude to?" the voice sneered, now dripping with even more venom. "What even is your worth, Sara? You're nothing but a weak, pathetic human. Nothing more."
"I said, stop your damn talking!" Sara roared. In a blind fit of fury, she slammed her fist against the balcony railing with a bone-jarring thud.
"Hahahaha!" A loud, mocking peal of laughter echoed from within her. "Just watch, Sara... I am the demon inside you. I am the shadow that will swallow you whole, and you won't even realize it's happening!" the voice hissed like a serpent.
Sara gripped her hair tightly, her fingers digging into her scalp as if she could pull the voice out. "Shut up, shut up, shut up... I said, shut up!"
Her voice broke into a desperate scream as she collapsed, sinking slowly to the floor, defeated by the chaos in her own mind.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Maera sat by the window, staring out at the restless heart of New York. The city of lights was glowing as usual; while some slept, the darkness of the midnight hour played host to a thriving underworld. From the twentieth floor, the world below looked like a toy set, but Maera's mind was miles away.
As a CEO, wealth was at her fingertips—a tool she could wield with a snap of her fingers. But what was the use of an empire when the sun of her life was missing? On the desk before her, the laptop screen flickered, a tracking software running a relentless, circular scan. With every rotation of the radar, her pulse quickened.
Suddenly, a sharp red dot blinked onto the map.
Maera sat bolt upright, her eyes narrowing. She began tracing the coordinates immediately, her fingers flying across the keys. At the same time, she grabbed her phone and dialed a secure line. The signal was bouncing from a remote region in Australia.
The call connected after three rings. "Trace this location now," she commanded, her voice like cold steel. "I want every detail. Every square inch of that perimeter."
Ten minutes of agonizing silence passed before her phone chimed. A series of images flooded her screen—a massive, fortified bunker hidden in the wilderness. Among them was a grainy, blurred shot of a figure with a hood over their head, being dragged toward the entrance.
A text followed: These images are a week old.
Maera didn't waste another second. She hit speed dial for Licheng.
The room was drowned in semi-darkness, white curtains shrouding the long windows. Li Cheng tossed and turned on his large crown bed, exhausted from a night of restless movement, yet sleep remained elusive. His insomnia was only getting worse. He sat up, reaching for a blister pack of medicine on the side table; of the twelve pills, only two remained. He popped them both into his mouth, crunching down on them like hard candy.
His head felt like it was splitting open. Setting his glasses aside, he reached forward to pour water from a jug and downed the entire glass in one go. He had just laid back down when his phone began to ring. With a hand over his eyes, Li Cheng reached out with the other to answer."Hello..." he spoke, his voice thick with fatigue."Mr. Li..." Maera's voice came through, her breathing heavy and ragged.Li Cheng sat bolt upright. "Maera! Is everything alright?"
"Mr. Li, we have a massive lead. We need to leave for Australia immediately. And Mr. Li—we need a tactical team on standby in Melbourne."As she spoke, Maera stood with the phone pressed to her ear, pulling a black bag from her cupboard. Into it, she shoved burner phones, encrypted drives, and a customized sidearm. In a rush, she threw a spare gun and two magazines on top.
"Mr. Li, send me your location. I'm on my way," she said, cutting the call before dialing another number.
It took Li Cheng only seconds to process the situation. He sprang into action, pulling a bag from his own cupboard and packing guns, magazines, and fake IDs.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a packet of a khaki envelope. For a moment, he stood in a conflicted daze, staring at it, before finally shoving it into the bag with a frustrated sigh.He dialed a number that was picked up after a single ring.
"Yes, sir!" the voice answered."Get the bird ready at the location in ten minutes. And the people. I'm on my way," Li Cheng commanded with calculated precision before hanging up and heading to the dressing room to change.Meanwhile, Maera had called her manager. It was 3:00 AM, but for Maera's staff, time was irrelevant—they had to be available at all hours.
"I'm taking an indefinite leave of absence," she told the weary-voiced manager. "All power of attorney is transferred to the Board's executive wing under my digital signature. If the stocks dip by even a fraction of a percent, I'll hold you personally responsible. Don't call me. Don't look for me. Just keep the system running at all costs."Before the sleep-deprived man on the other end could utter a word, she cut the call, leaving him in a desperate lurch. Maera grabbed her car keys, tossed her laptop into her bag, and headed out.
Stepping into the night, she pulled her balaclava hood up to hide her face. She threw her bag into the backseat and slid behind the wheel just as her phone buzzed. The notification displayed an address glowing clearly on the screen. She slotted the phone into the dash, pulled out of the parking lot, and accelerated onto the main road at full speed.
Back at the residence, Li Cheng was fully prepared. He grabbed his glasses and his bag and stepped out of the room. He called Alexa, who was sitting out on the lawn counting stars. She answered immediately."Hello," she said, her tone remarkably serene."Irlyn! Where are you right now?" Li Cheng asked."Outside. Why, what happened?" she replied with a steady voice.Li Cheng, who was hurriedly putting on his shoes, paused for a moment. He was surprised by her tone; she didn't usually sound this quiet or detached."Are you okay?" he found himself asking, despite the rush.Alexa realized that a call from Li Cheng at this hour was highly unusual for a casual chat. Brushing his concern aside, she asked, "Yeah, I'm fine. What about your end?""That's what I was about to tell you," he said, heading toward her and ending the call.
Moments later, he stood before her. "Irlyn, I have a covert operation in the works. You're in charge..."
Li Cheng pulled the khaki envelope from his bag and handed it to her. "I hope I'm making the right decision, Irlyn.""Mr. Li, don't worry. I will do my best," she said, taking the envelope."From now on, all the secrets of the Citadel are in your hands..."Irlyn nodded. "But Mr. Li, what happened?" she finally asked, unable to resist.
he turned, "remember i told you about the girl who saved me that day?", licheng said, alexa nodded, "yeah, i know, you told me about her, so what about now?", *sight*
li cheng took a deep breath, "longe story short, her wife similia has been kidnapped, and somehow they are connected to cobra, now that girl maera, found a lead, but it's not just a lead—we might be looking at a massive network here. We have to be prepared for the worst. Sara must not find out anything."
Delivering the warning in a single breath, Li Cheng departed.
At TEB Airport, Maera's car screeched to a halt. She jumped out, grabbed her bag and essentials, and headed toward the private jet infront of her, where a line of guards stood waiting. After they took her bag and cleared her path, Maera lowered her mask, tucked her hands into her hoodie pockets, and boarded. The guards followed in single file.Within minutes, the plane was taxiing down the runway. Nearby, Li Cheng's car was parked; two guards got in to move the vehicles and clear the scene under the cover of night.Inside the jet, Maera walked toward the cockpit area to find Li Cheng. He was sitting elegantly with one leg crossed over the other, one hand adjusting the frame of his glasses while the other held a delicate glass of champagne, lost in thoughts.
As Maera sat across from him, Li Cheng glanced at her and signaled the pilot. By 5:00 AM, they were airborne for Australia. But elsewhere in the distance, he already captured the entire scene through his camera lens.
After three hours of relentless effort, Sam had finally managed to complete the first training session properly. However, the process had left him a wreck; his hair was standing on end, and his condition was so dire he could barely walk. Having successfully cleared a single round, he limped back toward Renji and Nao. He couldn't even stand up straight."It wasn't that bad. Acceptable," Renji remarked. "Now go to your room and rest... and don't step a foot outside unless you're summoned."Following Renji's next order, Sam stumbled toward the room for which the receptionist had given him a key card. Once Sam had left, only Renji and Nao remained."Tch," Nao clicked his tongue in irritation. "Since when did they start putting normal civilians through training? What are these people even trying to do?"Renji shot a fleeting glance at Nao, who had now slumped onto a nearby stool. "Since when did you start worrying about the system, Nao?"Nao offered no reaction to Renji's mocking tone."We are trainers. Our job is simply to provide the best training and stay ready for action. Beyond that, we have nothing to do with the system. It would be better if you stayed out of it too," Renji added, delivering a long-winded lecture.Nao arched an eyebrow at him. "Don't give me a sermon. I know," he snapped back. Renji said nothing more and walked out of the room.
Sam reached his room with great difficulty; it was 5:00 PM. Unlocking the door with his key card, he stepped inside, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and collapsed straight onto the bed. He didn't even have the strength to move for a sip of water. He had never been this exhausted, nor had he ever taken such a beating before."I just love inviting trouble for myself, don't I?" he cursed himself while lying there.
Sam reached his room with great difficulty; it was 5:00 PM. Unlocking the door with his key card, he stepped inside, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and collapsed straight onto the bed. He didn't even have the strength to move for a sip of water. He had never been this exhausted, nor had he ever taken such a beating before."I just love inviting trouble for myself, don't I?" he cursed himself while lying there.Suddenly, a beep sounded and the door unlocked again. Sam turned his head just enough to see Nao standing there. A wave of intense annoyance washed over him at the sight of the man. he looked at sam's unbuttond shirt...then turned his face to the window.
"Looks like you want to die on your very first day," Nao said. What does this guy want from me now? Sam thought irritably.
"Why, what happened?" he snapped. Nao laughed at his tone. "Oh man... looks like someone's found their tongue."
Nao continued to bait him as he stepped forward and pulled the curtains shut. Noticing the move, Sam sat up. "What are you doing?"
He watched as Nao dimmed the lights. "Easy. It's an Obsidian rule—after 5:00 PM, no room's lights or curtains should be open."As he spoke, Nao dimmed the lights further, pulled out his gun, and set it on the small table in front of him. Sam adjusted his position, leaning back against a pillow. Nao then drew his golden blade, toying with it as he sat down on the sofa. Watching him, Sam began to feel increasingly uncomfortable; all he wanted to do was sleep.
With his boots still on, Nao propped both legs up on the table, casually toying with his blade.
"By the way , Sam... what if I were to flick this blade and hit you right from here?" Nao teased once more.
Sam's face soured at the remark, but he chose not to respond, simply turning his head the other way. Nao let out a smirk. After a few more moments of amusing himself by intimidating and pestering Sam, Nao finally stood up. he picked his gun from the table, Sam watched him as he fished a painkiller out of his pocket and tossed it onto the table, and said: "Take this... you've got a long day of being put through the wringer tomorrow," Nao said in a very cold tone. Without a backward glance, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
"what hell does this guy want from me, one sec cold, one sec warm...who he is, weather" Sam thought *sigh* and let out a long breath as he was too tired to think about anything, he picked the medicine from the table.. pour a glass of water for himself...he tossed two tablets in his mouth and drank the water..
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Around seven in the morning, Max was in his element. Fully dressed and whistling a sharp tune, he bounded down the stairs with his bag slung over his shoulder in his typical carefree style. Hazel followed just behind him, dressed simply for college and descending at a much more composed pace.
"What's with you, Max? You look awfully pleased with yourself," Hazel finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
Max flashed a mischievous grin. "Hazey... you have no idea how much Mr. Li is going to be bothered today."
"Give it a rest, Max," Hazel sighed, trying to talk some sense into him. "You annoy him way too much. Have a little heart. Just because he doesn't say anything doesn't mean you should keep pestering him."
"Oh, come on, Haze! Don't be such a buzzkill. You're so boring, you're ruining my mood. Such a sourpuss, hmph," he teased, stickng his tongue out.
"Max, wait until I catch you—!" Hazel, stung by the jab, hiked up her bag and chased after him. Max let out a suppressed laugh as he bolted for the door.
Their daily bickering echoed through the halls of the Citadel as they raced toward the exit. "Stop right there, Max! I'm not letting you get away with that!"
"You can't do anything, I'm older than you, Hazey!" Max laughed, taunting her as they reached the car porch.
But the moment he saw the scene outside, Max's grin vanished. Irlyn was standing there, leaning against the car and casually twirling a set of keys around her finger. Hazel skidded to a halt behind him, taking in the sight of the waiting Irlyn and immediately piecing the situation together.
"Good morning, Irlyn," Hazel said with a smile.
"Good morning, little Hazey," Irlyn replied warmly.
"Isn't Mr. Li coming today?" Hazel asked.
Irlyn glanced at Max, who looked absolutely devastated that his plan had been foiled. A faint smirk played on her lips. "For the time being, I'll be the one dropping you off and picking you up instead of Mr. Li."
Hazel nodded in understanding, but Max tried to protest. "But we could just go by oursel—"
"No, Max. That's not going to fly with me," she cut him off firmly. "Now, come on, get in the car. You too, Hazel. We're running late."
With that, Irlyn pulled open the door and slid into the driver's seat. Max pulled a long face, sulking visibly, while Hazel watched the whole exchange with quiet amusement.
"Serves you right, Max," she whispered.
"Shut up," Max snapped, clearly annoyed.
A small smile crossed Irlyn's face as the car pulled out onto the route toward the college. Ever since moving into the Citadel, Max's biggest grievance was that he wasn't allowed to ride his bike anymore. Everywhere they went required a security detail, and as long as they were out, they were under the watchful eyes of the guards. Max had tried every trick in the book to dodge them, but Li Cheng always caught him. His plan for today had been foolproof—but with Li Cheng gone, his mood had soured instantly. He knew better than to try and pull those same stunts with Irlyn.
______________________________________________________...
Zero and Parker sat across from each other in the coffee shop.
"So, that's the whole situation. Are you sure you still want to take Noah with you?" Parker asked, setting his coffee cup back on the table.
zero, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke. "Yes. My hands are tied. I've already made a commitment to Noah, and I won't find anyone better for this job." He paused to catch his breath. "Besides, they have details on every single person attending the party. There's no chance of faking it." Zero's expression remained intensely serious.
"I know, but when are you leaving?" Parker inquired.
"This evening," Zero replied curtly.
"But the party isn't until the day after tomorrow?" Parker was now questioning him with the air of a true investigator.
"Yes, because I have some matters to settle..." As Zero said this, his heart skipped a beat. A sharp pain flared in his chest—a physical agony that flickered across his face, though he tried his best to hide it.
Parker watched him for a moment. "Fine." He pulled out a sleek, elegant clip and placed it on the table in front of Zero.
Zero picked it up. "What is this? What am I supposed to do with a clip?" he asked, as if Parker had just done something incredibly foolish.
Parker smiled. "It's not just a clip." He took it back from Zero, twirling it between his fingers. "It houses a tiny, hidden camera and a microphone. When you attach this to your suit, it will capture the entire top-secret environment. But remember, you have to do this after you get into the party...you can do it in the washroom"
Zero, listening intently, suddenly interjected, "Why go to the washroom for it?"
Parker took a sip of his coffee before explaining. "Security checks are mandatory at the entrance. You can't risk it then. Once you're inside the party, you can do it easily."
"Ooh..." Zero let out a long, drawn-out sound of realization.
He took a final sip of his coffee and was about to stand up when Parker's tone suddenly turned dead serious. "Sit down ___ zero."
Zero was slightly takenPipe back, but hiding his surprise, he sat back down. "Yeah, what's up?"
Parker turned his head to stare out the window. Lost in thought, he began, "That day... the news about Elina..."
Parker was still speaking when Zero stood up to leave. Parker immediately bolted up behind him. "It was a misunderstanding!" he shouted toward Zero, who was just about to step out the door.
Zero's feet froze. His heart began to sink, and suddenly, the world around him seemed to spin. The entire scene from that night flashed before his eyes. He stumbled abruptly, and Parker caught him by the arm. Zero's eyes had turned a red from the guilt as he thought that night.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Zero asked, the anguish in his voice impossible to mask.
"When were you ever willing to listen?" Parker countered.
Zero fell silent. "that's right...when did i ever wanted to hear about it...it thought he cheated on me when he didn't..." he thought.. a pain of guilt rose in his chest. He knew he had made a mistake—a massive one. Unable to say a word, he simply nodded, walked out, and headed for his car. His pace was fast. He climbed in and sped off, the car racing against the rhythm of the wind.
Standing back there, Parker watched the car disappear into the distance. A deep sadness lingered in his eyes. Zero was a very dear friend—someone he considered a brother—and this time, the mistake had actually been made by Parker's own team.
"Hah..." He let out a heavy sigh, turned back to grab his wallet, tucked the money under his coffee cup, and picked up his keys to head out.