It was quiet—eerily so. Even the rustling leaves of campus trees stood still in reverence as Nox zipped up the black duffel. Weapons wrapped in cloth, burner phones taped to the inner lining, rolls of cash nestled between folded, sterile clothes. A matte passport lay face-down on the metal desk—Spanish, name: Damián Reyes. Age: 28. Profession: Security Consultant.
He didn't leave a note. No explanations. Just a cleaned-up room, no scent, and the ghost of cigarette smoke lingering near the open rooftop window.
Downstairs, Ash was asleep, half a controller dangling from his palm. Leo sat in the flickering blue light of the paused game, eyes lingering on the third bed.
"Bathroom?" Ash muttered, rubbing his eyes.
Leo looked at him, blank for a second. Then smiled faintly. "Yeah. Or roof."
Ash nodded and curled back under his blanket, not thinking twice.
But Leo did.
Nox in Madrid: 05:35 AM
A small, nondescript hotel near Lavapiés. Nox stood in the dark, only the glow of a city about to wake painting the skyline behind him. He wore a low-profile hoodie, cargo pants, and tan sneakers. Underneath the hoodie: a shoulder holster and a folded blade tucked near the spine.
He pulled up the encrypted dossier on a burner phone. Three names. One image. A corrupt arms broker named Tomás Ortega. A retired intelligence handler turned blackmailer. And a third: unlisted, unknown. Marked simply as: *"Ghost."
First contact in 36 hours. Zero margin for noise. First step: infiltrate Ortega's security team under the Reyes cover.
Back on Campus: Mid-Morning
Leo stirred oatmeal in his bowl distractedly, eyes fixed on the empty stool across from him. Ash yawned, leaning on the counter.
"He didn't come back last night."
Leo nodded, casual. "He does that sometimes. Probably off working on one of his solo projects."
Ash shrugged. "Wish he'd let me see one. His Twin sculpture was crazy good. The balance, the symmetry—like a brutal dance."
Leo smiled faintly. "He's private."
"Still." Ash blew into his coffee. "Dude's got some kind of haunted poetry in his work. I'd pay to pick his brain."
Leo's smile faded just a touch. You might not survive it, he thought. But he didn't say it.
Madrid: 11:20 PM
The club was loud. Electronic bass, strobe lights, patrons too drunk or rich to care who brushed their shoulder.
Nox moved through them like smoke, sliding between pulses of color, breathing in the scent of sweat, vodka, and gun oil. He wasn't here to party.
He found Ortega's lieutenant near the back, flanked by two men with hands too close to their belts. Nox slipped him a card—black, gold trim.
"Damián Reyes. Private security solutions."
The man grunted, flipping the card once before slipping it into his pocket. "You armed?"
"Always."
He was buzzed in. The trapdoor to Ortega's estate opened.
Campus: Rooftop - Night
Ash leaned over the ledge, looking at the dim city.
"Weird without him here."
Leo didn't answer. He was lighting a cigarette Nox left behind.
Ash blinked. "Since when do you smoke?"
"I don't," Leo said. Then took a drag anyway.
Madrid: Ortega's Estate - 02:12 AM
Ortega was everything the file said—bloated, paranoid, indulgent. But he was smart. Kept his routes random, his walls lined with retina scans and steel.
Nox observed quietly from his new position—security rotation beta, external perimeters. Easy work. Too easy.
At night, he mapped. Mapped the escape routes, the servant schedules, the lapses in patrols. He found the blind spot near the indoor pool. He noted the camera on the north tower that tilted 3.5 degrees too high. Every piece mattered.
He lit a cigarette from Ortega's stash and listened to the man laugh from the inner sanctum.
Tick tock, Nox thought. Your time bleeds.
Campus: Midnight Dorm Room
Ash was asleep again. Leo sat on the couch, turning over his phone.
He finally replied to a message.
Leo: "He's gone, isn't he?"
A minute passed.
Father: "Yes. Off the grid. High-clearance. Don't ask."
Leo exhaled. A part of him still didn't know. The peaceful bubble was an illusion. Nox was the knife in the dark, and Leo was...safe, only because nox blade faced outward.
And he wanted to stay inside that illusion a little longer.
He looked toward the empty bed.
"Come back soon, roumy" he muttered.
End of Chapter 33