Top Floor of the Hotel – Grand Master's Private Suite, 9:37 PM
Soft Thai music hummed from hidden HQ speakers along the wall:
"Tears fall on both cheeks... the wind brushes by... the clock ticks on... reminding me it's time to sleep 🎶"
Syd Barrett, a.k.a. the sarcastic menace of the group, lay stretched out on a large brown sofa, head resting in the lap of his mother—Annie Barrett. One of her hands absentmindedly squished and pinched his cheek while the other held an open book.
"What's with this song? You always listen to this band or what?" Syd grumbled, his tone sharp—though hilariously out of sync with the coziness of the scene.
"Right, like you don't loop Kanye a hundred times a day," his sister, Roxxy Barrett, shot back. She was curled up beside their mom with her head against Annie's chest, sipping bright green soda.
"I listen to it because it slaps!" Syd protested.
"Normal people don't listen to Kanye," he continued. "What the hell is he even saying? 'Ah-jook ah-jick gah-gook, miss you, mah-yuk-yik-gik-gik, check your bank account'? What is that even supposed to mean? Dude sounds high. No one can understand a word."
"That's not even a Kanye song," Roxxy deadpanned.
"It all sounds the same to me."
"Better be careful when you go back to Thailand. Someone might deck you. If you get sued for defamation, that's on you."
"Where are we again?"
"Russia."
"Exactly. Russia doesn't give a damn about defamation laws. They can't do squat to me, idiot."
"Gíff, language," Annie scolded gently.
Smack!
"Ugh!" Syd winced as Annie flicked his lips.
"Ow—can you cut your nails first before you flick?"
Annie giggled and leaned down to kiss his face.
"Hey—!?"
Syd turned away, but of course, couldn't escape.
"Come on now, sweetie," Annie teased. "You practically threw yourself at me when I got here—don't act like you weren't dying to hug your mama~"
"Can you not talk like a teenager? Seriously, act your age."
Pinch—cheeks again.
"They call it 'tsundere' these days, right? That's what it's called now, isn't it, you cool Gen Z kids?"
Syd gave his mother the biggest side-eye of his life. He could not handle this version of her.
"Man, you're so fake, Syd," Roxxy muttered.
"What'd you just say, brat?"
"Hey now."
"Karn," Annie turned to her daughter with a warning pinch at the corner of her mouth, "no swearing, sweetheart."
Roxxy flipped off her brother, then nestled into their mom.
"You too, Gíff. You're civilized now. We don't live in a wet market."
"Good evening, fellow board members—"
Thwack! Annie lightly thumped his head with the spine of her book.
"OW! Jeez—this is a Buddhist book!"
"It's not. And it didn't hurt as much as my heart does."
"For real though, you whacked me with the spine!"
"It's Universe in a Nutshell by Stephen Hawking. Not a monk's chant book."
Syd rolled off his mom's lap and onto the plush carpet.
This kind of moment never happened in public. This was just for them—something private and rare. A family-only thing. These were the moments where both Syd and Roxxy would melt into kids again and run to snuggle their mom.
They'd always been this way.
"Gíff, careful, the rug's dirty."
"Mom."
"Yes?"
"What's Jody's second test gonna be?"
Roxxy asked first, but Syd lifted his head curiously too.
"Yeah, what's the deal?"
"You really think I'd tell you now?" Annie raised an eyebrow. "You'd just run off and whisper it to her, wouldn't you?"
Syd: "False accusation. Lies and slander."
"You'd be the first to do it," she teased, poking his foot.
"Pleeeease, mom," Roxxy pleaded.
"You only get special treatment if you're dying," Annie said sweetly, kissing Roxxy's forehead and closing her book.
"I've got work to do. I'm flying back tonight. Gíff, did you see the chili peppers I packed for you in the souvenir bag?"
"Huh? There were only snacks."
"They were in this."
She pulled out a brown cardboard box.
"The staff thought it was mine and sent it to my room. It's actually for you."
"What is it?"
Both siblings swarmed around.
"I brought it for you to share with your friends."
As they peeked into the box, their eyes lit up.
Annie smiled—she remembered those exact expressions from when they were tiny and she gave them new toys.
"It's time. Go put this away. I need to get back to work."
. . .
Entertainment Floor of the Agent Wing (The Dome) – Same Time
As described before, this entire floor resembled a vast indoor park, divided into sections like a national garden. Even if the grass was synthetic, the fishponds were real.
After parting ways with Sera, Mickey Mannix found himself sitting quietly in the artificial green, pencil and sketchpad in hand.
He inhaled deeply, taking in the subtle, clean scent of trees and soil. Facing the pond, he let his thoughts drift. He needed this moment.
But before long, he sensed someone approach.
Marie.
She sat down beside him without a word, wearing a military-print tank top this time.
"..."
No greeting. Just presence.
Mickey glanced sideways.
"You're not gonna say anything?"
"What should I say?" she answered calmly. "I know you need focus when you sketch."
"I sketch wherever I want."
"But silence is still nice, isn't it?"
"...Fair point."
"What are you drawing now? Your style's improving."
"Thanks."
Fwap.
Mickey turned—Marie had placed an arm around his shoulder. He couldn't help sneaking a peek at her biceps before meeting her gaze.
"You still like those, huh?"
"Can't help it."
"Ever thought of switching to an iPad? Most artists use tablets now."
"I've been meaning to... but it's inconvenient."
"Then get an iPad."
"Too expensive. I can't afford it."
"Like we don't earn enough to buy one?"
She leaned closer.
"Or... maybe your rich girl can buy it for you?"
"You mean Sera?"
"Mm-hmm. She's loaded, isn't she? These days, you're surrounded by wealthy people, Mickey."
"What makes you think she'd buy me anything?"
"You think I haven't noticed?"
Marie's eyes narrowed.
"She likes you."
"So?"
He kept sketching.
"What's it got to do with you?"
"Just surprised. I thought you weren't into her type."
"...Heh."
A soft laugh escaped him.
"Guess you're right."
"You meet her in London?"
He nodded.
"You smile more now, don't you? Last time we worked together, your face was stone the whole mission."
"Smile more?"
His pencil paused. Mickey stared deep into the water.
For a split second, his entire brutal life flashed before his eyes. And in that flood of trauma... came Sera's ridiculous, explosive energy.
"...Maybe."
"Do you know why people find you charming, Mickey?"
"My face?"
"Partly..."
She gave a faint smile.
"But mostly because you're a great listener."
He didn't reply.
"I still remember the island. I wouldn't have made it without clinging to you."
"Clinging, huh?"
"Let's be honest."
She leaned against him.
"I'm here today partly because of you, Mickey."
"You did it yourself."
"True... but no one climbs high without a solid base, right?"
Her head rested gently on his shoulder.
"You still play guitar?"
"...Not much."
"But you kept it. A Gibson Les Paul."
"Don't even think about playing it in my room."
"Aw, you read my mind."
She pulled away slightly.
"A couple rounds won't kill us. We barely see each other. Or is it... because of the rich girl?"
"...Yeah."
Mickey answered without hesitation.
"...Wow. That's how it is, huh?"
Marie raised her eyebrows and pulled away completely.
It was an unspoken gesture of respect.
"You and her...?"
"This line of work doesn't exactly leave room for relationships."
"Unless it's physical," Marie said. "Like we were. A year or two ago. So tell me—have you and Sera...?"
"...Ask her yourself tomorrow."
He smirked.
"But I doubt you'll need to. She'll probably come to you."
Then he asked her something back.
"What about you? How'd you end up on probation? What happened?"
"..."
"I can tell, Marie. You're not the type to get caught up in that stuff. And Annie said she almost fired you."
Her real expression surfaced.
A storm of emotions swirled in her eyes—sadness, regret, pressure. Her face was open, but her eyes were shut tight.
"..."
Mickey set his sketchpad aside.
He was ready to listen now. Marie might've just been a one-time teammate, a hookup from his past... but she had been someone he'd once trusted with his life.
He was ready to hear her out.
. . .
10:15 PM – Upper Lobby Area
Toshi guided Sera, now in a clean, formal outfit, to the golden, polished elevator that served the VIP floors.
"I texted Skylar. Annie's still in her suite. I told him you wanted to speak with her."
"You made the appointment?"
"Yup."
Ding.
"Ladies first."
"Why, thank you."
Sera stepped in. Toshi followed and pressed the button—then blocked the panel so she couldn't see which floor.
"The hell—what are you hiding?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry—forgot to think that in my head."
"When you're officially one of us, you'll have full access, I promise."
Ding—door opens
Warm golden light spilled out onto red carpet. The walls were deep brown, lit by antique-looking sconces. Everything screamed first-class.
A few guards approached. Toshi spoke in fluent Russian, which impressed Sera.
He pointed to her, spoke some more, and soon the guards nodded, tapping their radios and gesturing for her to proceed.
"You speak Russian?"
"You never asked—ow!"
Sera twisted his ear.
"Don't say that phrase around me. Ever."
Toshi laughed awkwardly, rubbing his ear.
"The guard said Annie's with family. We'll have to wait a bit."
"Family... ah."
Ding-dong.
"So Gíff and Karn are in there?"
"Yeah. I just found out too."
And just like that, they ran into Syd and Roxxy walking out, with a cardboard box in Syd's arms.
"Oh hey—Syd. Roxxy."
"...Ahoy, Fatty. Jap-boy."
. . .
"Martial arts? What?"
Syd furrowed his brow when he heard why Sera was here.
"And she scheduled it?"
Toshi: "Didn't Skylar tell you?"
"Didn't tell me sh*t."
The four of them clustered by the elevator.
"Could've talked to her earlier, but no—you wait until mom's leaving."
"I've been passed out all day, genius. When else?"
Syd checked his watch.
"She's working right now."
"Want me to go get her?" Roxxy offered, turning around.
"No need, hon. You've helped enough."
Sera's reason for that was simple—she wanted Annie to know she hadn't pulled any strings or begged for attention.
She needed Annie to see that she could wait, that she respected her time and her status.
Syd didn't tease her, surprisingly. And Sera appreciated that, deep down. It meant he understood—this wasn't a joke to her. She really wanted to see Annie.
. . .
"That's how it happened..."
Silence followed.
Marie had just finished telling Mickey her full story.
Not just the facts—she'd poured it all out.
"...I won't bother you anymore."
She gently tapped his shoulder and walked away.
Mickey's face didn't change much. But he had listened—really listened.
He watched her go.
No one knew what Mickey felt.
In the end, he just picked up his pencil again.
Snap.
"...Broken again? Damn."
He tucked it into his jacket.
"...iPad, huh?"
He pulled out a spare pencil.
And kept drawing.