The VOID briefing room was drowned in cold white light.
A digital map hovered in the air, dozens of red markers blinking across it. The atmosphere was tight, stretched to the breaking point.
A man sat at the center of the table. His hair was streaked with gray, but his eyes were sharp as ice. He slammed his fist down.
"How long has it been?
One expendable pawn, and you still haven't dealt with her?"
A subordinate lowered his head, voice shaking.
"Sir… she keeps moving. She has outside support. Every trap we set was dismantled. So—"
"STUPID!"
The roar echoed through the room, cutting everything to silence.
Another man leaned forward slightly.
"We can't deny it anymore. Noir isn't just running. She's striking back. She's crippled at least two supply routes and destroyed a signal relay. Lower ranks are getting restless. If this drags on, the advantage shifts to her."
The leader's gaze darkened, his voice heavy as lead.
"Then deploy everything.
Bring in A-class agents. I want Noir dragged back here. Alive or dead, it doesn't matter. A product that dares to betray us… cannot be allowed to become a symbol."
"But sir," a man in a red suit spoke up.
"bringing her in was never easy."
"That girl will die sooner or later. We created her—
we can erase her."
Thousands of assassins sat in silence, waiting for orders. From the moment they were created, they were conditioned to obey absolutely. Betrayal meant one thing: death, without remains.
In a shadowed corner, a figure sat with arms crossed, watching. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. He said nothing. His eyes, sharp as blades, were fixed on a single red dot on the map—close to where Noir had last been seen.
The room filled with cigarette smoke and scattered files as officers continued arguing over how to hunt her down.
He, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, motionless like stone. His face was cold, his eyes deep and unreadable. But beneath that surface, something churned.
Noir.
Her name echoed in his mind.
The girl who once stood at his back through countless blood-soaked battles. The one who had brushed against feelings he never dared to name. To him, Noir was half his life.
And yet she left.
She abandoned the organization.
She abandoned him.
An officer glanced his way.
"Oh right? You've been quiet. Weren't you closer to Noir than anyone else? I'd say you're the most suitable one to handle this."
He gave a strained smile, burying everything behind his eyes.
"If the higher-ups trust me, why would I refuse?
Loyalty has always been my principle."
The words came out cold and clean.
But deep in his chest, he knew he was lying.
Since the day Noir disappeared, he had lived like a shadow. Loyalty. Obedience. All of it was just a shell. In the deepest silence, he still clung to a single hope—that if they ever met again, he would finally hear why she left him behind.
***
Thousands of miles away.
Noir and Orion had already moved far from the shelter. The outskirts of town lay quiet, yellow streetlights washing over grimy sidewalks. They blended into the night, searching for basic supplies, moving fast, careful not to draw curious looks.
Suddenly, a cold wind hissed from a narrow alley behind them. Noir turned—too late. A dark figure was already on them. The strike came sharp and sudden. Orion swung his knife on instinct.
Metal clashed.
Noir stepped back, her left eye flashing red for a split second.
When she looked again, the shadow was gone—as if it had never existed. Only a strange symbol remained on the stained wall. A half-circle crossed by a diagonal line.
Orion slammed the knife handle against the ground, snarling.
"Damn it, what kind of fu*king shit was that?! Hits once then runs like a dog with its tail tucked. Pisses me off. If you're gonna fight, fight properly. This cat-and-mouse crap—so damn theatrical. Thinks he's cool or something? If I ever catch his face, I swear—"
He went on and on, comparing the guy to everything from a failed hunting dog to a circus clown gone astray. Noir walked ahead, brow twitching, eyes cold, resisting the urge to shut him up by force.
"Are you done?" she cut in, voice low and rough.
"Never. I could rant till tomorrow," Orion snapped, though he finally sheathed his knife and shot a glare around.
She exhaled, pushing down the echo of something old stirring inside her. She knew the symbol wasn't random. Still, Noir chose silence. Tonight would be another sleepless one.
/Who would dare do this?/ she thought.
They slipped deeper into the alleys, grabbed what supplies they could, and headed back to base. Orion kept muttering curses the whole way, making Noir seriously consider stuffing a rag in his mouth.
But in her eyes, the image of that symbol lingered—like a wound that refused to close.
The base was quiet when they returned. They dropped the bags on the table, dust still clinging to their boots.
Specter looked up from his files, tension clear in his eyes.
"You're later than expected. Something happen? Or… was this place compromised?"
Orion waved a hand, annoyed.
"Compromised my ass. Just ran into a psycho. Didn't fight, didn't commit, just vanished and left a dumb symbol behind. Makes my blood boil. No wonder the organization only plays cheap tricks."
Kaelith's eyes widened, hesitant.
"A symbol? You mean… someone is watching us?"
Noir crossed her arms, gaze icy.
"Not exactly. But his skills aren't something to underestimate. That symbol… he wanted me to notice."
Specter frowned.
"You think the organization already picked up a lead? Someone approached this fast?"
Noir met his eyes, calm but firm.
"This location may already be a disadvantage. We double our caution. For now, no one moves alone."
Orion slumped into a chair, grumbling but still teasing.
"Hear that, kid? Stick close to me from now on. Don't wander off or you'll get snatched before you know it."
Kaelith puffed up, firing back.
"You're the one who'd get caught first! I run way faster than you."
A bit of laughter broke through the tension. Specter glanced at Noir, catching her sharp gaze—still cold, but edged with unease. He knew it. Whatever this was, it wasn't simple.