The computer screens glowed brightly inside the temporary underground shelter.
Specter sat before rows of flashing code, his fingers typing nonstop, as if speed itself could suppress his anxiety. He focused on breaking through the organization's external camera encryption. Every time the screen flashed "ACCESS DENIED," the veins at his temple stood out more clearly.
Orion leaned against the wall, casually fiddling with a soldier's helmet he had taken a few days ago, a half-mocking, half-playful smile on his lips.
"Hurry up, my friend. I seriously need to wash these clothes soon. If they stink, blending in will be a nightmare."
Specter didn't even look up.
"Focus. You go in first, I follow. We don't have time to waste."
A sharp beep echoed. Specter exhaled hard, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Done. External cameras are blind for seven minutes. Move."
Orion put on the helmet, adjusted the armor, and sneered.
"Seven minutes is more than enough for me to jump around their rat nest."
Under the cover of darkness, the two disguised themselves as patrol soldiers and passed through a side gate of the base. Searchlights swept across them, data flashing on the scanners—ID numbers, names, ages, all complete. But these assassin units worked at the lower tier, their faces fully covered, identified mainly by codes. Thanks to that, and their familiar walking posture, no one paid attention. Both of them were sweating hard. The inspection took nearly two minutes.
Orion walked ahead, his expression indifferent like any other soldier. Specter followed, keeping an even pace, his eyes still scanning every direction. Any crack could expose them both.
A guard passed by, yawning, glanced at them and asked lazily,
"Which unit are you coming from?"
Orion answered quickly, calm and natural.
"Patrol Unit Four. Shift change."
The guard only nodded, not bothering to check further. The heavy steel gate opened, letting two silent figures slip into the steel maze of the organization.
The metal corridor led them deeper inside, the air thick with the smell of metal and disinfectant. Orion scanned carefully, spotting strange signs—patches of dried blood, a small black fabric fragment identical to the material Noir once wore. His heart tightened. But before he could get closer, a cold voice sounded behind them.
"Both of you. Stop."
A group of commanders approached. High-ranking insignias gleamed on their shoulders, suspicious eyes sweeping over Orion and Specter.
"New orders. You're temporarily reassigned to the research division, Eastern sector. Immediately."
Specter clenched his jaw but replied calmly.
"Yes sir."
They were forced to change direction and follow. Orion glanced at Specter, impatience flashing in his eyes. He whispered, his voice low enough only Specter could hear.
"We just saw traces of her. If we're dragged to the East sector, we'll lose time."
Specter replied just as quietly, his voice restrained like steel.
"Stay quiet. Follow them for now."
Orion gripped the hilt of the blade hidden inside the armor, his eyes darkening. He wasn't someone used to holding back—but this time… he had no choice.
The so-called "reassignment" tightened like a noose around their necks. They stood inside the lab, pretending to review data like loyal soldiers. Orion's hand kept clenching, his eyes repeatedly drifting toward the hallway leading to the main experimental area—where he believed Noir was being held.
A supervisor noticed and narrowed his eyes.
"You two look… restless. What do you need?"
The air instantly grew heavy. Specter reacted fast, bowing slightly, blocking Orion's gaze.
"We just want to finish quickly and return to our original posts. There's a lot of work waiting. Is there a problem, sir?"
The man didn't answer right away, only growled,
"Focus. I'll assign someone to assist you."
Specter stiffened slightly but couldn't risk stirring trouble.
"Thank you, sir."
The man didn't leave. He kept watching—first Orion, then Specter. Orion's movements were slightly clumsy.
"You! Do you even know what you're doing?"
The situation grew more dangerous. Orion was anxious but forced himself to answer.
"I'm very sorry. I'll do better."
The supervisor stared harder.
"You look… bigger than usual. New recruit?"
"Yes… yes, sir. I'm new. Not much experience yet." Orion lowered his head.
The supervisor still didn't let go.
"Recite your agent code."
The words hung like a blade above their heads.
"V-PT30819 and V-PT30922, Sir!"
Specter's calm reaction, he adapted smoothly. The man didn't ask further. Perhaps he trusted the tight security system too much to believe outsiders could infiltrate. He seemed about to continue, but another soldier rushed in with a report, forcing him to stop.
Once they left, Orion slammed his fist onto the metal table, eyes blazing.
"At this rate, we've already wasted precious minutes. Noir's situation is getting worse."
Specter's voice dropped.
"We can't rush. But you're right—they're suspicious. We need another way."
Only three minutes left.
He immediately opened a hidden communication channel, voice urgent.
"Doctor, I need you to take full control of the camera system. If not, they'll track every step we make. Only if you control it can we buy time and find Noir faster."
On the other end, Dr. Aurel's voice came through—hoarse but firm.
"The risk of exposure is extremely high. But if you have no other choice… I'll try. Prepare yourselves. Within ten minutes, the camera system will destabilize. Don't waste this chance."
Orion looked at Specter. For the first time, his eyes calmed slightly—but deep within, the fire of impatience still burned.
In the end, those seven minutes meant nothing.
They had failed the first step.
The cameras above them continued to flash red—
still watching,
still working.