The clock on the lecture hall wall ticked louder than the professor's droning voice. Dax slouched in his seat, one leg bouncing, half-listening as graphs about international economics blurred across the screen. His pen spun between his fingers, the fifth time he'd nearly dropped it.
Another student raised a hand. Another question. Another ten minutes added to a lecture that was already thirty minutes too long.
Dax leaned to the side, cracked his neck, and muttered under his breath, "This is criminal…"
He glanced at his phone. Milo had sent a message.
"Time to move. Job's ready."
A grin tugged at the corner of Dax's lips. Finally.
He shoved his things into his bag, stood up, and made his way out of the classroom with a practiced, lazy swagger. The other students barely glanced at him, used to the constant parade of departures mid-lecture. Dax was good at getting in and out without anyone remembering he was there.
The moment he stepped out of the building, the city's noise swallowed him up. He didn't mind. He preferred it that way—lost in the crowd, blending into the chaos. The kind of life that made him feel untouchable.
He didn't bother with the bus or a cab—too slow, too predictable. Instead, he reached into his bag, pulled out his black-and-white skateboard, and flicked it to the ground. The design was bold, streaks of white and black swirling over the board in chaotic patterns, like the markings of some kind of wild, untamed creature. A perfect match for his mood.
His feet found the grooves instinctively, the wheels humming as he pushed off with effortless speed, zipping through the crowded sidewalk like a phantom. He angled down the street, weaving between pedestrians, feeling the thrill of speed rush through his veins. The adrenaline buzzed in his chest, the same sensation he chased every time.
The text pinged again, this time with a location: an address. And beneath it, one word: "Go."
Dax's grin widened. Time to get to work.
He skated through the narrow side streets, cutting through alleyways and avoiding the main traffic, until he reached the sleek, glass-and-steel building that had become home. He hopped off his board, grabbed it under his arm, and headed for the elevator.
When the doors slid open, he stepped into the quiet, air-conditioned interior. The building was the kind of place that felt as untouchable as he did, one of those high-rise apartments where the walls were glass and the floors were polished marble. The elevator ride to the top was short but gave him time to think.
As the doors opened to the top floor, Dax made his way down the hallway to their apartment, keys already in hand. The moment he stepped inside, the scent of coffee and metal hit him. Milo was already at his desk, his face lit by the glow of multiple monitors stacked with blueprints, security feeds, and lock codes.
Dax didn't even bother saying hello to Milo as he knew the drill. He dropped his bag and skateboard near the door, kicked off his shoes, and moved straight to the kitchen.
"What's the word?" Dax asked as he grabbed a drink from the fridge.
Milo turned his chair slightly, eyeing Dax for a moment before his gaze shifted back to the screen. "We're all set for tonight. Target's a tech company. High-end stuff, high security. But you're in luck.I've already found their weak spots."
Dax leaned against the counter, scanning the screen over Milo's shoulder. The tech was top-notch, but nothing that Dax hadn't cracked before. He wasn't worried. He never was.
"So," Dax said, smirking as he poured himself a drink, "you gonna do all the work, or are you gonna let me have some fun?"
Milo shot him a look, the corners of his mouth twitching in a small smile. "You're gonna do the fun part, as always. Just… try not to break anything this time, yeah?"
Dax's grin widened as he tipped the glass toward Milo, then threw it back in one go. "Breaking things is half the fun."
Without another word, Dax moved toward his workspace, a cluttered mess of tech, half-built drones, and various stolen gadgets. On the far side of the room sat his glider, sleek and ready for its next test flight. He pulled out his tools, already thinking ahead to the job.
"Don't forget the details," Milo called from across the room, already turning his attention back to the next phase of their plan. "We can't afford to get sloppy."
Dax didn't answer, already distracted. He knew the job was gonna be smooth. He always made it smooth.
But this time? He might just be looking for a little more than the usual haul.