The battle exploded in fire and noise. Bullets tore through the air, metal clashing again and again.
Specter and Orion moved in sync, holding the outer line.
One by one, the unlucky assassins fell, blood dragging long streaks across the ground. The scene was messy, almost ruined.
On Noir's side, with her teammates backing her up, she didn't need to fight through the chaos.
She walked straight toward Lysander—each step steady, unhesitating.
He curled his lips into a faint smile, eyes hiding a stubborn belief.
"You're still… strong. Beautiful. But unstable," he said, a low chuckle slipping out.
"You've never truly escaped the chains inside yourself."
Noir didn't answer. She stared at him.
The red glow in her left eye flared like it wanted to tear him apart—then the blue in her right eye ignited as well.
Lysander froze.
For a moment, what stood before him wasn't just an assassin.
Not even the woman he once loved.
It was something holding both destruction and reason in its hands.
Noir spoke, her voice cold and heavy.
"Since the day I crawled out of that trash, nothing has been able to chain me again."
Shock flickered across Lysander's face. His fist tightened, though he forced himself to stay calm.
"That's impossible… the two eyes were never synchronized. How did you do it? You're the only case. That's why you're a masterpiece…"
"Come back with me," he said softly.
"I'll help you become the masterpiece. A symbol."
Noir stepped closer. Moonlight flashed along her blade.
"A masterpiece?"
"I don't need that filthy title."
Orion cut in mid-gunfire, yelling loud.
"Yoo, ex-boyfriend! Get it through your head already—Noir's not some toy you can lock away!"
From behind them, Specter added calmly, his voice sharp.
"Noir, be careful. He's definitely planning something."
Lysander said nothing. He gestured for his agents to pull back, eyes never leaving Noir, as if carving her image into his memory one last time.
In that moment, he realized something the organization never understood.
Noir had become something far beyond anyone's control.
The smoke hadn't cleared yet. VOID's forces began to retreat under orders—but Noir wasn't about to let it end there.
Before Lysander could react, she lunged forward, fast like a phantom.
Her blade flashed through the night, red and blue eyes burning.
The assassins panicked, firing wildly at her.
Specter rushed in to cover her back, shouting sharply.
"Noir, watch out!!"
Orion got even more fired up.
"If you're hitting your ex, break his bones properly, Noir! Don't hold back!"
The two forces collided hard. Noir and Lysander exchanged blows like they were reliving their past—those years of fighting side by side, surviving together.
They knew each other's breathing, habits, timing.
That was why the fight dragged on without a clear winner.
Only this time, they were enemies.
And the balance no longer favored him.
Lysander dodged a lethal slash and let out a rough laugh, breathing hard.
"Noir… you'll never bring me down."
Noir stayed cold. No emotion showed, but her strikes grew heavier, sharper.
"Fuck off."
From afar, Orion cursed while holding the line.
"Damn it, these guys just won't drop! How are they still standing?!"
Specter stayed focused, eyes locked on Noir. He wanted to help—but he knew this fight was hers alone.
Meanwhile, deep underground, the Doctor and Ari watched the screens in tension. Signals spiked wildly.
"No… this is bad…" the Doctor muttered.
"They've found the secondary coordinates…"
Before he could finish, a violent boom slammed into the bunker door.
The whole base shook. Dust rained down.
Ari gasped.
"No… they're here!"
Kealith crouched in the corner, covering her ears in fear.
"Kealith!" Ari pulled her close, holding her tight.
The pounding echoed deeper into the bunker.
The Doctor waved his hand sharply.
"Activate full defense protocol!"
Heavy machinery roared. Thick steel doors slid into place, layered with electromagnetic shields. Red lights swept across the rooms as everything locked down.
Ari exhaled shakily, hands still trembling, and sent a signal to Noir.
"They're outside the base. Defense is active now. Be careful—there are more of them than we expected."
Outside, Noir and Lysander's clash burned on.
Lysander had planned to wear her down, capture her alive.
But Noir's control was absolute now. Every move, every calculation—she saw through them all.
Her gun was always aimed at his vital points.
Only his reflexes saved him.
Each blade strike thickened the air, dust swirling like a storm in the dark.
Noir launched a decisive attack. Her blade grazed his neck—half a second closer, and blood would've fallen.
Lysander stop for a second. Sweat dripped, but he still smiled faintly.
"You really surprise me, Noir."
Orion shouted even while fighting.
"Run, ex-boyfriend! There's no chance for you here!"
Meeting Noir's icy gaze, Lysander understood—the plan had failed.
If he pushed further, he wouldn't just lose.
He might die.
He stepped back, creating distance, and shouted.
"RETREAT!"
The organization's forces scattered. Lysander's figure faded into the night, his voice echoing rough and low.
"One day, you'll come to me on your own, Noir… I'll be waiting."
The forest fell silent again, broken only by the heavy breathing of the three of them.
Specter stepped closer.
"Are you okay?"
Noir didn't answer. She tightened her grip on the blade, her eyes sinking back into cold stillness.
Smoke and dust hung thick in the air. The forest lay ruined.
All three were wounded—slashes through fabric, blood soaking in, breaths strained. But none of them stopped.
"We head back. Now," Noir said, her voice flat, eyes flashing red and blue.
Specter nodded, gripping his gun despite the torn wound on his shoulder.
Orion grinned through blood on his forehead.
"Seriously… can't even get one peaceful night."
The fallen were dragged into darkness. Weapons collected. Bodies piled.
Noir led the way, scanning every shadow, making sure no one was left alive.
They reached the bunker entrance. The door was scarred, bullets embedded everywhere—but it had held.
Noir's hand trembled slightly as she sent the signal inside, forcing herself calm.
The steel doors opened. Cold white light spilled out.
Ari stood there, face tight with fear, rushing forward when she saw them.
"My god…are you good?…"
Doctor Aurel followed, worry filling his eyes, calling Kealith to help bring them in.
Inside, as wounds were treated, silence settled heavily.
Specter slumped in a chair, eyes half-closed.
Orion tossed his gun onto the table, voice tired and mocking.
"Every time. One 'walk outside' and the bodies pile up."
Noir leaned against the wall, her gaze dark.
Lysander was gone—but not erased.
And this battle was only the beginning of the storm to come.