Steam rolled softly across the wide marble chamber of the headquarters spa. Blurring the sharp lines of the room into something calm and distant.
Warm mineral water rippled gently as dozens of agents soaked in daily murmurs. The tension of recent missions slowly dissolving into the warm relief.
The faint scent of herbs drifted through the air, soothing muscles that had faced death only hours ago.
Roland leaned back against the smooth stone edge. Shoulders submerged to the collarbone. His hair still damp and pushed back. His eyes shone with restless excitement.
"I'm telling you," Roland said, hands moving slightly above the water as he explained, "it wasn't just guessing. Everything had rules. It was all absurd geometry like solving a living equation. At one point, I thought I was dead for sure. But when the rings finally separated…"
He shook his head in disbelief. "It felt like reality itself just… gave another chance to live on."
Henry sat a short distance away, half-submerged, resting his arms along the edge of the pool.
The hot water eased the lingering ache in his back and shoulders. He listened quietly. A tired smile formed at the corner of his lips as Roland spoke with unstoppable enthusiasm.
"You always make things sound like a random mythical story. Even when death is breathing on your neck."
Roland grinned. "Better than panicking, you see."
Roland rested his arms on the stone edge, lazily kicking the water while staring at the ceiling lights.
"So," Roland said casually, "they assigned me archive duty next week. Again. Stacks of reports taller than me. I swear they think I enjoy paperwork more than my own life."
Henry gave a quiet huff that almost sounded like a laugh.
"You are complaining now. But you are the type who actually finishes chores without whining halfway through."
Roland smirked slightly. "Yeah, well… someone has to keep this place running."
The silence that followed lingered longer than usual. Henry's gaze lowered to the water. He saw his own face.
"At least you had a family."
Henry said something all of a sudden.
Roland turned his head slightly looking widely.
Henry continued looking at his own reflection in the mirror.
"Me? Never had one. My mother… was probably some whore who threw me into a garbage yard after birth. I remember, even I was a newborn, I remember... the thunder that crashed just beside me. When I was lying in junkyard and wet in rain."
He shrugged slightly enough to notice. "Didn't die, though. Unfortunately or fortunately… still not sure."
Roland didn't laugh this time.
Instead, he leaned back and spoke quietly, but firmly.
"You know… it is okay."
Henry glanced sideways.
Roland gestured lightly around them. At the agents talking, laughing, arguing about nonsense.
"All these idiots here. Fighting together, surviving together… that's family too. Maybe not by blood but by choice. We are only a bunch of fools, right? Who are willing to give their lives on the line without hesitation."
Henry stared at the water again. This time, the silence felt a little less empty.
....
The locke casted clean light in the room. Roland stepped inside, towel slung over his shoulder.
The hum of ventilation filled the silence while agents moved in and out, dressing quickly, preparing for the rare event that broke their endless cycle of missions and drills.
Roland opened his locker and paused.
He stared at it for a few seconds, brow twitching slightly as realization settled in.
"…I didn't bring anything decent, did I." he muttered under his breath.
Henry, already half-dressed nearby, adjusted the cuffs of his dark shirt and glanced over.
Roland scratched the back of his head awkwardly, giving a small, embarrassed grin.
"When I left home. I didn't exactly plan on attending royal events. Packed only survival gears… forgot actual clothes."
Henry studied him quietly for a moment.
Without another word, he opened his own locker and pulled out a neatly folded set of clothes.
A dark formal shirt, a fitted coat and polished shoes that still carried the scent of leather oil. He tossed them toward Roland.
"Wear these for now."
"Wait. Seriously?"
"They will fit close enough. I have extra underwear if yo—"
"No, thanks."
Roland looked down at the clothes in his hands. Expression changed from surprise to genuine gratitude.
"You know… if I ruin these, I am blaming fate, not myself."
Henry smirked, "If you ruin them, you are buying me new ones."
Roland laughed quietly as he began dressing, adjusting the sleeves and testing the fit.
Surprisingly, they suited him well. Far better than anything he had expected to wear tonight.
"Hard to believe we are actually going to have fun!"
Roland said while fixing the collar. "The King himself attending… southern building lit up like some grand festival."
Henry nodded slightly, slipping into his coat.
"Agents barely get time to rest." Roland continue. "Let alone celebrate. Once a year, maybe… if we are lucky."
Henry paused near the doorway, adjusting his gloves.
"Then enjoy it. Because tomorrow it is back to surviving again. And we don't have any idea who is the ragdoll tomorrow."
Roland stepped beside him, now fully dressed, giving a confident grin.
"Tonight is the night, we shall pretend to be human."
....
The motorcycle engine sounded softly beneath them as it cut through the empty highway.
The road stretched endlessly ahead. A thin ribbon of asphalt surrounded by fields and distant silhouettes of trees that swayed under the night wind.
Roland sat behind Henry, one hand gripping the side rail while the other rested loosely against his thigh.
Streetlights appeared only occasionally.
"Hey, how far is it?" asked Roland.
Henry didn't answer immediately. His hands remained steady on the handlebars. He exhaled once.
"Far enough. Southern building isn't exactly next door."
Roland squinted ahead into the darkness. "Feels like we have been riding forever."
"You should be grateful."
Roland raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For this speed. I am driving with as much patience as I possibly can right now."
Roland blinked once, then laughed nervously. "Wait… this is you being patient?"
"Usually. I drive like a beast."
Roland tightened his grip instinctively, glancing down at the rushing road beneath them.
"…I know, I know. I remember the last ride. Patience is a beautiful thing after all."
Henry didn't respond.
The motorcycle surged forward anyway, divine deeper into the midnight highway.