The days passed quickly, and soon the time had come. I dressed in casual clothes — a light purple top with black pants, simple but deliberate — and slipped on a black mask that matched the outfit. My reflection in the mirror looked almost ordinary, but I knew better. Today wasn't just another mission. Today was a test of something far more dangerous.
When I headed to the garage, Mike was already waiting, leaning halfway out the car window and waving exaggeratedly. "Hurry up!" he called with his usual grin.
I ran toward the car, trying to steady my heartbeat, and slid into the seat. The driver pulled us onto the road toward the city. The journey was long, about an hour, and I spent most of it staring at the passing scenery, trying to calm my nerves.
Mike, of course, filled the silence. He chattered nonstop about everything from music to his favorite meals, and then, suddenly, he burst out, "Hey, I'm going to shop for clothes! You know what I love? Tuxedos. Do you know why? Because I like going to parties and pretending to be a rich guy. Hahahahaha—just joking!"
He laughed at his own joke, and I managed a faint smile.
Then his voice dropped. The air shifted, colder, sharper.
"Why do you want to go to the city, Lena?"
The question cut through me. For a moment I froze, almost forgetting how to breathe. But I forced myself to answer calmly, with a practiced smile. "I'm going to shop too."
Mike's eyes narrowed, as if weighing my words. Then, just as quickly, his grin returned. "Yes! We're shopping together!" he shouted with boyish enthusiasm.
I turned my gaze back to the window, hiding the unease twisting inside me.
When the city finally appeared, glowing with life, I felt a pang in my chest. So different from the cold halls of Interitus. When the car stopped at the designated shopping center, Mike bolted out instantly, running straight inside. I stepped out more carefully, checking the time. 2:00 PM. Only one hour left.
Inside, Mike was already pushing a cart wildly, grabbing whatever caught his eye. I walked slower, scanning the displays until something caught my attention — a necklace. A delicate green jewel that shimmered like light trapped in glass.
I froze. It was beautiful. Too beautiful.
Mike appeared at my side and smirked. "That jewelry really compliments your eyes. Let's buy it." Without waiting for me, he called the shop assistant and paid.
Before I could protest, he clasped the necklace around my neck himself. I caught my reflection in a nearby mirror — the green shimmer against my skin. It didn't just compliment me. It reminded me of who I was… and the power I carried. A dangerous irony.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Mike said with a satisfied grin.
I touched the jewel lightly, swallowing the tightness in my throat. "…Thank you."
He shrugged. "No problem."
I glanced at the time again. 3:00 PM. My pulse quickened. "I'm going to get something to eat," I told him carefully. "I'll be back by 3:30."
He didn't question it, just waved me off. "Sure. Don't get lost!"
I slipped away and headed toward the café. My heart pounded with every step.
Inside, the air smelled of coffee beans and sweet bread. I ordered a frappe and sat at a table near the corner, scanning the crowd. For a moment, doubt clawed at me. Maybe she wouldn't come. Maybe this was a mistake.
Then someone slid into the chair across from me.
It was her.
She wore casual clothes — a black jacket, hiding her wounds from our previous battle, headphones around her neck, and a mask. Even in disguise, her presence was sharp, commanding. Her voice, low but firm, broke the silence.
"Why did you want me here?"
I gripped my cup. The words stuck in my throat. How could I say it? How could I trust her with something that could destroy me?
But then the café door opened. A presence I recognized immediately. Mike.
Panic surged through me. I stood up too quickly, my chair scraping against the floor. Rachel's eyes sharpened, and she grabbed my hand.
"Are you in trouble?" she asked, her tone filled with a concern I hadn't heard in months. Her eyes searched mine, and in them I saw something I thought I'd lost forever — genuine worry.
It broke me.
Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. I gave the smallest nod, leaned closer, and whispered one word:
"Gonzaga…"
Her brow furrowed. She didn't understand — not fully. But she heard the weight in my voice. Gonzaga. The name of my new parents. The ones Interitus held as hostages. The ones who were supposed to be my safe harbor, now reduced to pawns in this endless war. That name wasn't just an answer. It was my secret plea, my buried truth, my reason for enduring the blood and fire.
Before Rachel could respond, a hand clapped down on my shoulder.
"Heather."
Mike. His voice carried a lazy grin, calling me by the fake name they have created, but I felt the danger under it. He had noticed my panic. I prayed he hadn't noticed Rachel.
Rachel, to her credit, didn't flinch. She straightened casually, still holding my hand for a fraction of a second before letting go. Then she spoke smoothly, like nothing was wrong. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just curious about her necklace. It's really pretty. Where did you buy it?"
I froze. She was covering for me.
Mike brightened instantly, puffing up with pride. "Ah, you noticed? I bought it for her. Gorgeous, right?" He grinned, sliding an arm around my shoulders. "Thanks for the compliment. Anyway, we should go."
She gave the smallest nod, her mask hiding most of her expression, but her eyes told me everything. She understood.
Mike and I left the café. I glanced back once. The girl was still at the table, watching. And for the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of hope.
The ride home was quieter than the journey there.
Mike leaned back in his seat, one leg bouncing lazily, humming some tune under his breath. To anyone else, he looked carefree, like a boy who had spent too much money shopping and now basked in his victory.
But I wasn't fooled.
Every so often, his humming would stop, and his eyes would flick toward me. Quick, sharp glances. Then he'd smile again, wide and careless, as if nothing had shifted.
I sat stiffly, my mask pressed against my face, fingers fidgeting with the green gem at my throat. The necklace suddenly felt heavy, like a chain instead of a gift. My heart still raced from the café.
Rachel's hand on mine.
Her worried eyes.
The word I had whispered—Gonzaga.
Did Mike notice? Did he hear?
The city lights blurred past the windows, and for a while the only sound was the steady hum of the tires against the road. I kept my gaze outside, afraid that if I met his eyes, he'd see straight through me.
Then his voice cut through the silence.
"You know…" he said, tone light, almost singing, "that girl in the café seemed… interesting, don't you think?"
My blood froze.
I turned my head slowly, forcing calm. "She liked the necklace you gave me."
He grinned, resting his chin on his hand. "Yeah, that's what she said. But she looked at you like… hm. Like she knew you." His eyes gleamed, sharp despite his playful smile. "Funny, isn't it?"
I forced a soft laugh, though my throat burned. "You're overthinking."
Mike studied me for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Maybe." His smile widened again, too wide. "Still… I'd hate to think you were hiding something from me, Lena. We're partners, after all."
The word partners felt more like a chain than the necklace around my neck.
I tightened my grip on my arm to stop the trembling and turned back to the window.
He smiled brightly.
The rest of the drive dragged on in suffocating silence.
When we finally reached the base, Mike hopped out of the car with the same easy grin, carrying bags of clothes like nothing had happened. He waved at me. "See you around, Lena!" Then he disappeared down the hall.
I stood frozen by the car, the necklace burning against my skin, my breath unsteady.
Rachel's eyes came back to me in the dark silence.
Hold on. Don't break. Not yet.
I clung to that.
Because if I didn't… I would shatter.