Lu walked through the narrow lanes between the camp's half-collapsed barracks, the dirt crunching softly under her boots. The night air was cold, sharp with metal and oil. She was heading toward the command sector — 24's last known direction — when a flicker of movement in her periphery made her stop.
Five men. Off-duty soldiers. Their uniforms were loose, their posture sloppy — bored, half-drunk, but eyes too alert.
She felt it immediately — the shift in air, the predatory quiet.
24 had taught her to sense that silence.
"Hey, Mask," one called, his grin crooked under the flickering lamplight. "You're new here. Haven't seen you around."
She said nothing. Just kept walking.
The sound of boots scuffed behind her.
Another stepped in front. A slow circle formed around her.
"Where's your partner? The quiet guy?" another sneered. "You shouldn't wander alone."
Her fingers brushed the hilts of her blades — still she didn't draw them. The cold metal was a comfort, but tonight she didn't need them. She could hear 24's voice in her head: If you rely on your weapons, you'll never control the fight — only end it.
The tallest soldier reached out, fingers curling toward her mask. "Let's see what you're hiding."
She moved.
Her left foot pivoted — she dropped low, parried his wrist, and in the same motion struck upward with the heel of her palm. The impact cracked like a whip. He staggered, choking.
Before the others could react, she twisted, drove her elbow into another's ribs, then spun into a back kick that dropped him flat.
Two down. Three to go.
Her breath came slow and steady, not ragged — she was in control.
They lunged, shouting, their confidence breaking apart.
Lu sidestepped one's rush, grabbed his arm, and redirected his weight — his own momentum slammed him into the dirt. The next came swinging wild. She ducked beneath, jabbed twice to his gut, and finished with a knee that sent him gasping to the ground.
Only one remained. He hesitated, eyes darting between his fallen comrades and her steady stance.
Lu tilted her head slightly. "You still want to try?"
He hesitated — then yelled and swung anyway. She weaved under his punch and slipped inside his reach, whispering under her breath, "You should've stayed down." A quick strike to the solar plexus, another to the throat — he crumpled, clutching his chest.
The alley fell silent.
Only Lu remained standing, breathing steady, her blades untouched at her hips.
She looked down at them — five soldiers sprawled out like discarded dolls. For a heartbeat, the echo of the fight hung heavy in her chest.
Then she exhaled and turned toward the command building at the far end of the lane.
That's when she saw them.
24 stood there — arms crossed, eyes unreadable — and beside him, the commander, his expression locked somewhere between disbelief and respect.
The floodlight cast Lu's shadow long across the ground. She reached up, adjusted her mask, and without a word, started walking toward them.
The silence said enough.