The rain in the Neutral Zone didn't just fall; it stung. Marilyn Thorne adjusted the earpiece beneath her silver hair, her boots making zero sound on the wet pavement.
"Target in sight," a voice crackled in her ear. It was Kamila. Low, steady, and irritatingly professional.
Marilyn looked through her scope. Across the courtyard stood a figure wrapped in shifting black smoke. The Obsidian Prime. Her target. Her mission. But as the smoke cleared for a split second, Marilyn's heart stopped. The demon had her face.
The same jawline, the same eyes—except hers were glowing a violent, pulsing violet.
"Sister..." a voice echoed, not in her ear, but inside her skull. "Stop hunting. Start reigning."
"Thorne, do you have the shot?" Kamila's voice was closer now. Marilyn could smell her—leather and gunpowder.
Marilyn's finger trembled on the trigger. If she shot, It felt like she was killing herself. If she didn't, Kamila would realize Marilyn was having second thoughts and would think of her as a traitor.
Not that she cared but she has gone too far in the agency to lose it all.
"Maybe she's a shape shifter" Marylin reassured herself while adjusting her gun to focus on The Obsidian Prime.
After what felt like hours Kamila spoke irritated "again I ask — Do you have the shot agent Thorne"
"I... I lost the visual," Marilyn lied, her voice cracking.
In the dark, she felt Kamila's hand grip her shoulder, spinning her around. The tension between them was a physical weight. "You never lose a visual, Thorne," Kamila whispered, her eyes searching Marilyn's. "What are you hiding?"
Do you think Marylin will tell Kamila what she saw?