The room, washed in pale white light, lay in quiet stillness. Noir rested there weakly, the air thick with the sharp scent of antiseptic. Ari stepped in slowly, tending to her wounds, wrapping layer after layer of cloth around cuts that still bled faintly.
"Your body has been pushed past its limits. If you don't rest… the aftereffects may only worsen," Ari said softly, her tone firm, though concern lingered in her eyes.
Noir simply closed her eyes and gave a faint hum in response.
Outside—
Specter sat against the wall, eyes fixed on the stream of data he had just obtained. Orion wiped the smeared blood from his blade, occasionally glancing toward Noir's room.
Kaelith sat in a corner, her hands trembling as they clenched tightly together. She didn't dare to speak.
After finishing everything, Ari stepped out quietly and brought water for everyone.
"Noir… she's asleep. It's late, all of you should get some rest."
"How is she?" the doctor asked, taking a sip of water.
"She's covered in wounds. Her body won't recover anytime soon… poor child."
"Noir has been very brave. I only hope the path ahead will be kinder to her…" Aurel lowered his gaze.
Specter, Orion, and Kaelith all fell silent, the air growing slightly awkward.
Suddenly, Ari turned to Kaelith.
"Noir… asked me to tell you…" She paused, her voice lowering.
"From now on… you should stay here. If you go back to them, you will surely die."
The words froze Kaelith in place. Her eyes reddened before she slowly nodded.
"I understand. But… I've hurt her this badly, and she still…" Her voice broke, unable to continue.
Orion finally spoke up.
"Stop crying, kid. You should feel lucky Noir was soft enough to let you stay."
Specter added,
"Right now, you should focus on finding a way to save your parents. Noir… she'll recover."
Outside, heavy rain poured against the metal roof, filling the space with a weight that was hard to describe.
At the same time, at the organization's main base—
A heavy punch slammed into Lysander's face, forcing his head down onto the metal table. Blood streamed along his cheek, yet anger still burned in his eyes.
"You failed. Noir is still alive. The experiment is out of control. Why?" one of the commanders asked coldly.
Lysander let out a hoarse chuckle, blood seeping from the corner of his lips.
"Why? Because you underestimated her."
The interrogator tightened his glove, ready to strike again. But Lysander tilted his head, his voice laced with hatred.
"You push and force everything so rigidly… isn't that just incompetence?"
"You bastard, what did you say?!" one of the soldiers snapped.
"…Don't worry. Noir won't be able to run forever. I'll bring her back myself," Lysander said.
In his blood-stained eyes burned both fury toward the organization and an obsession he couldn't let go of.
Under the cold white light of the interrogation room, blood dripped onto the metal floor, spreading into long streaks.
The commander spoke again, voice sharp.
"You say she's too strong? Or is it that you hesitated?"
Lysander gave a faint smirk, lifting his head, eyes gleaming despite his battered face.
"I have never hesitated. Noir isn't an ordinary human… she's a masterpiece. If anyone were capable of truly subduing her, none of this would have happened. Do you think you're capable?"
The answer silenced the room for a moment. Several interrogators exchanged uneasy glances.
"Fine. Then I'll give you a chance to prove it," the commander finally growled, signaling to stop the interrogation.
As he stepped out into the hallway, Lysander wiped the blood from his lips, a burning obsession rising within him. One thought echoed endlessly in his mind.
/Noir… belongs only to me. No one else./
Back at Noir's place, Noir still lay resting, her breathing uneven at times as her body struggled to recover. Kaelith sat silently beside her, eyes filled with guilt. Specter and Orion quietly discussed their next move, while Aurel remained focused on the system, doing everything he could to maintain a safe gap before the organization traced them.
Night deepened. The room fell into silence. The distant hum of machinery echoed like a broken heartbeat.
Suddenly, Noir jolted awake, cold sweat trailing down her temple. In her dream, she had seen Lysander's eyes again—burning red, filled with obsession, as if he were watching her with every breath she took.
She turned her head slightly.
Specter was sitting beside the bed, having fallen asleep at some point, slumped over the table. One hand still loosely held his gun, as if even in sleep he had to remain ready.
The slightest movement was enough to wake him. His sharp gaze immediately snapped toward Noir, but softened the moment he realized it was her.
"…Did you have a nightmare?" Specter's voice was low, rough, and quiet in the dark.
Noir didn't answer right away, only gave a small nod. She sat up, her body still heavy, but her eyes clearer now.
"Can we go outside for a bit? I want some air… and to talk to you."
Specter paused for a brief moment. Then, without another word, he stood and helped her up, his hand steady despite its coldness.
The door opened softly, dim hallway light greeting them. They walked out quietly, leaving behind the steady breaths of Kaelith, Orion, Ari, and Aurel, who were still resting.
In the darkness, their footsteps echoed faintly. Noir looked up, exhaustion still lingering, but her gaze deep.
"Specter… if one day I can't come back as I am now… what would you do?"
The question fell gently, yet carried a heavy weight, tightening the already silent air even further.