Tension builds as Evah faces off with Erion, her anger boiling over as she confronts him about a past event. Her fury is palpable, but Erion's reaction is far from what she expected—he remains cool, detached, and almost amused, heightening the mystery surrounding him. Despite her desire for an apology, his mocking attitude only fuels her frustration. The air between them grows thicker with each word, and as the distance between them closes, it becomes clear that there is something much more complicated simmering beneath the surface. Evah is left shaken, caught in the emotional turmoil of an unresolved past and a man who seems to have no intention of offering closure. Meanwhile, Yuka remains confined in a stark, oppressive space, where uncertainty and her sense of guilt weigh heavily on her. As she navigates her physical limitations and her role in a larger, more dangerous game, her thoughts never stray far from Evah's safety. Her mind races with doubts, but she hides them behind a forced smile, all the while wondering if she made the right choice in trusting those around her. With both women facing their own battles, the chapter leaves a lingering sense of suspense—what is really at stake, and who will come out on top?
INT- ERION'S OFFICE
"I refuse to work under an unapologetic traitor like you, Erion!"
Yeah, you're seriously messed up.
Evah's mind flashed back to the moment when Erion's hands had remained unnervingly steady, not a single tremor, even though their lives had been on the line. How could he stay so calm?
"And on what grounds should I apologize?" Erion's voice was dangerously smooth as he closed the distance between them, the last shreds of his patience clearly slipping.
I can't believe this.
You were ready to leave Yuka in that warehouse!" Evah snapped, the fury she'd been holding back finally bursting free. There. I said it. I'm still not over it.
"That's protocol. You save the life you can." Erion's voice softened, but just barely. A faint irritation seeped through the smoothness of his tone. "She's your friend. I understand... and I apologize." With mechanical precision, he extended his hand and gave a bow—too smooth, too practiced, as though it were nothing more than a hollow formality.
He's mocking me.
"And you, traitor," Evah snapped, her voice trembling with rage. "You locked me out like a criminal after everything we went through!"
"That's protocol," Erion replied, his tone devoid of emotion. "We placed you in hospital care and took your statement. You received the best assistance available. But if that's not enough for you... I apologize." This time, Erion's bow was minimal—stiff, almost robotic, as though he had done it a thousand times before.
He's just acting. He's the Major General—he knows how to play his cards. Evah reminded herself, but her anger only deepened with each passing second. Desperation clawed at her, and before she could stop herself, the words slipped out.
"You kissed me, you arrogant idiot!" Evah's words flew from her lips like daggers, her chest heaving with the weight of her fury, her eyes burning as if they could set him aflame with a single glance.
It was you! That's why you look so familiar...
Wait… did he just smirk? That wasn't the reaction she had expected.
It took her a moment to realize it, but with all the trauma and emotions swirling inside, she didn't want to bring it up. This wasn't the right time. But now, this man didn't even look the slightest bit apologetic.
"So we're still stuck on that, huh?" Erion's voice was unnervingly calm, almost too calm. He stood just a meter away now, his gaze fixed on Evah with a detached, almost mechanical indifference.
"I was on a mission. I needed a cover," he added, his words cold and devoid of any real apology—just a hollow justification.
Evah's eyes narrowed, her frustration reaching a boiling point. "But you never apologized," she shot back, her voice thick with disdain, each word laced with bitter venom.
"Whatever the reason, you at least owe me an apology."
He sniggered, a cold, mocking sound, as he began to close the distance between them.
Evah instinctively stepped back, only to realize the hard edge of the wooden door pressing against her, trapping her.
"I see," he murmured, his voice slow and deliberate, a slight nod accompanying his words, his gaze unblinking.
Just show a little sensitivity!
"I see. Should I apologize?" Erion's voice dripped with mockery as he took another step closer, his presence looming over her.
"Yes, you should!" Evah shot back, her voice sharp, though she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze—he towered over her.
That was my first kiss... and I can never take it back.
Erion smirked, leaning in just a little closer, his mocking smile widening. "Should I say sorry?"
He's smiling like some damn jester.
"Yes, you should!" Evah snapped, her frustration barely held in check.
Erion paused, his expression flickering for the briefest moment before he leaned in even closer, just inches away from her face.
"Am I sorry?" he asked, his voice low and deliberately teasing.
Without warning, he braced his right arm against the door, boxing her in. His smile faded, replaced by a sudden seriousness that sent a shiver down her spine. His flaming blue eyes locked onto hers, no trace of humor remaining.
Stunned, Evah struggled to find the words, her mind racing as her voice barely escaped. "Yes, you... are," she stammered, realizing only too late how dangerously close Erion had gotten. Her heartbeat quickened, pounding in her chest like a relentless drumbeat.
"Am I?" he repeated, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned even closer.
The world around them seemed to blur, fading into the background. The wooden interior of the office pressed in on her, suffocating, as though the walls themselves were closing in.
He's doing it again!
How can someone be so alluring and terrifying at the same time?
Then, suddenly, a sharp clank of metal rang through the air, followed by the subtle shift of the door she had been leaning against. It gave way slightly.
Evah nearly stumbled, her balance faltering, but she caught herself just in time, her breath catching.
"What the...?" she muttered, eyes snapping open.
"I was just opening the door for you," Erion said, his tone casual as he kept his grip on the doorknob, his grin still firmly in place. "You said you wanted to leave, right?"
That's why he was leaning so close...
Did I just... assume he'd do it again?
"Are you waiting for something?" Erion smirked, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"No!" Evah snapped, her frustration overflowing. With every ounce of strength, she shoved the door open, and it groaned in protest, swinging outward with a sharp creak.
She stormed out of the office, her steps quick and purposeful, fueled by a mix of anger and urgency.
Erion remained leaning against the doorframe, his gaze following her retreating form, a grin tugging at his lips.
The girl's always angry with me for no reason at all.
Evah hurried through the office, her eyes darting as she searched for the exit. She passed a cluttered desk stacked with files, likely the work of investigators, and a person on the phone, their voice sharp and urgent as they answered emergency reports.
She glanced quickly at two large rooms with tinted black glass—probably conference rooms—before moving past a massive lab, its signage boldly proclaiming it as a high-tech facility.
It's a nice office, she thought, trying to distance herself from the unsettling atmosphere.
But the more she observed, the heavier the sense of danger pressed on her.
People moved swiftly through the corridors, each absorbed in their work, oblivious to her presence. The buzz of activity reminded her of her own office back at her previous job—always frantic, always tense.
How much do they pay these people to risk their lives? she wondered. The thought gnawed at her. What if I get caught up in whatever mess is brewing here? What if I get dragged into something I can't escape?
But then again, Erion had already caught the people behind all of this, right? Right?
INT- Conference Room - 7 PM
The room was bathed in a soft blue glow, with its sleek, two-way aqua-colored mirrors reflecting the high-tech atmosphere. It was a space that had seen its fair share of intense moments—sometimes used for interrogations, sometimes for brainstorming, always for work that demanded precision and sharp minds.
Erion, deep in thought, stood in front of the glass board, where a map and plans were projected, meticulously making notes and continuously adjusting the diagram. His focus was unwavering as he worked through the details of his mission, the weight of the task pressing on him as the minutes ticked by.
A knock at the door broke his concentration.
"Come in,"