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Chapter Text

It was a different job than usual.

Oscar couldn't have explained it, but he sensed it. Both in the air around them and by the way the hair on his neck stood on. It was a premonition that came from within him, from that more animal part that usually slept in a corner of his mind.

Over the years, thanks to the jobs he had done, Oscar had learned to trust his premonitions.

He studied the other men in the room again. Counting himself, there were five in all. The small room of an Italian public library had been chosen for that "get-to-know" meeting requested by the buyer.

It hadn't been easy to reach it. Oscar had to fly from Romania to northern Italy and then take a taxi. If it hadn't been for the very high sum promised at the end of the job, he would never have been there.

Whiskey, sitting in the chair next to him, shifted his position. His bored gaze had been fixed on the door since they had arrived.

José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, aka “Whiskey,” was not a face Oscar saw for the first time that day. Years earlier, when they were both still working in the US Army, they had found themselves in the same division. Finding out that he too had been offered the job made Oscar feel better. Having an ally, or at least a familiar face, in important jobs like that was essential. It could make the difference between life and death.

When he reached the public library and looked around in bewilderment, Oscar didn't immediately recognize Whiskey. Their eyes had met, both drawn to the presence of a suspicious figure. Oscar had sighed with relief in recognizing him, and his brow had furrowed in surprise to find him there.

Talking to Whiskey, Oscar was able to confirm that they both had received the same information about the job: three or four months, one million dollars to protect their target. Details, such as the identity of the target, would have been provided during that meeting.

But the woman who had hired them hadn't arrived yet.

Oscar, standing with his arms crossed, shifted from one foot to the other. If they were outside, he would have gladly smoked a cigarette to distract himself. Unable to do so, he fought boredom by analyzing the men he had to work with.

The strangest was leaning against the wall. He was tall and big, but still under seven feet. To beat him Oscara would have had to use his enormous size against him. Nothing he hadn't already done. What really caught his eye was the balaclava he was wearing, combined with the sunglasses. Why was he hiding his face? Maybe he had one of those baby faces and the balaclava with a skull print was a way to intimidate his opponents.

Or maybe he was just ugly.

The other two men were sitting across the room. One, the Indian-looking one, was mumbling incomprehensible phrases, while he stared at his hands. Oscar wondered what he hoped to see coming out of his palms. Some fireballs? Or knives? Some apples?

Oscar closed his eyes. Boredom was driving him crazy.

The last man turned to them and Oscar felt his gaze on him. He returned it immediately, staring into the black, slanted eyes of what appeared to be a man of Chinese or Korean descent. He hoped he wasn't Japanese.

Finally, the door to the room was flung open and the attention of all the men was drawn to the woman who was entering.

Lieutenant Cristina Caruso was muscular and tenacious. Oscar had understood it the first time he had met her gaze more than a month before, when she had told him about the job. Oscar hadn't accepted right away. It seemed too perfect and clean work. And in return, they would each receive a million dollars? It had to be a scam.

That day in late July, the lieutenant wore her blond hair in a low, neat chignon. Oscar looked at her carefully, lingering on her beautiful and old face. From the little information he had found about her, she had turned fifty in January.

The woman's eyes moved quickly and attentively, pausing to study each of them.

If the context had been different, Oscar would have more than willingly tried to get into her bed. He didn't care that she was clearly an unattainable and secretive woman.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said aloud, speaking to them in English. Her thick accent did not hide her Italian origins.

Lieutenant Caruso walked to the center of the semicircle that the five men had created and put a hand forward, handing them five paper files.

“I'm glad to see you've accepted the job,” she continued. She looked into their eyes one by one and smiled as if to remind them that she was the most powerful person in the room. The five men approached her to take the files.

Oscar returned to his place by the wall and studied the first page. His gaze was caught by the face of a girl.

"Diana Chiara Spina" read Whiskey.

"The person you have to protect," explained Lieutenant Caruso, taking a few steps back until she reached the counter that was on the other side of Oscar.

The little room they had entered reminded Oscar of a schoolroom, even if it was smaller and cleaner. A few white pews had been arranged in a horseshoe shape, but when Oscar and Whiskey entered, they had pushed them against the wall and taken two chairs. However, the wait had prevented Oscar from remaining seated for too long.

"From the moment you leave this room and for the next several months, your job will be to ensure that no harm is done to the girl, either physical or mental."

"Why?" the Chinese/Korean asked.

Oscar asked himself the same question. Why did a young girl need the protection of five mercenaries?

He thought that maybe she was the daughter of someone important.

He quickly read the data reported. As he had guessed he found no information on any family ties. The lieutenant cared about the girl's privacy and Oscar wondered if the one written was an invented name or a real one. By quickly scrolling through the information, the girl's age held his attention for longer.

Twenty years.

From the photo, she looked younger. He assumed that the photo used was one in which she had not yet turned eighteen.

Lieutenant Caruso frowned and looked at the man who had asked the question. "All I can reveal to you is that in these months you will be moving from one place to another. We are probably talking about intercontinental travel. The girl is looking for something that is not for me to explain to you, and she needs to be protected. "

“Who will pay for these trips?” Oscar asked, folding up the file and telling himself that he would study it better later.

"Not you," the woman replied, smiling warmly.

"I wanted to make it clear," Oscar replied, returning her smile.

The woman laughed with what Oscar called contempt. "Don't worry, the girl will pay for your every move. And your needs will be taken care of.” Her eyes narrowed and moved to all of the men. "I hope you won't take advantage of it."

Oscar would definitely take advantage of it. But not right away. He would earn the girl's trust and then let her spoil him. If she was a rich and capricious child, she deserved to have someone take her money.

Oscar could surely have found something better to do with it.

"Where's the catch?" Whiskey asked, crossing his arms over his chest and staring sharply at the woman. "A million each to follow a kid who wants to travel the world?"

"Exactly," the woman replied.

"Who wants to kill her?" Whiskey insisted.

"Nobody."

Oscar immediately noticed that the lieutenant had clenched her fists and jaw.

Cristina Caruso was lying.

"Why keep it from us?" he asked, joining Whiskey's interrogation.

The other three men had also stiffened as if they were ready to attack the woman, tackle her to the ground, and extract whatever information they wanted from her.

"I won't risk my life for a little girl if I don't know what threat awaits me," Oscar insisted, stepping forward and thrusting out his chest.

"Then go away. No one is forcing you to accept."

The attention of all present shifted to the door.

A girl was staring at them with an icy gaze, her shoulder leaning against the door jamb and her hands hidden in the pockets of her black sweatshirt.

"If you take this job and want the million, you don't have to ask about my past," she insisted, stepping back and disappearing from their view.

Oscar was dumbfounded. He had excepted everything except to see and hear his target at that moment. He looked down at the file. The face he had seen was smiling and cheerful, but the girl who had answered him had a frozen and suffering look, as if she had lost her light.

Lieutenant Caruso rolled her eyes. "You don't need to be afraid of any attacks for now," she said.

"For now," the masked man repeated, mimicking her.

The woman ignored him and went for the door. “It's just a matter of making sure she finds what she's looking for and survives. If you have any more questions we can talk about it in the van.”

The meeting was over.

The woman was the first to leave the room, followed immediately by the five mercenaries. The girl had crouched on the ground. Looking weary, she got to her feet and walked first.

Oscar studied her, unable to silence the questions that kept forming in his head. The one Oscar wanted to find the answer to first swelled to silence all the others: who wanted to hurt her and why?

It was evident that the girl was fragile and young. She couldn't be in serious trouble already. Her eyes were not those of someone addicted to drugs or alcohol. She just looked sad. It was more likely that she was related to someone important. Oscar decided that was the explanation he was looking for.

The little girl was sad because some bad guy was preventing her from living like her other rich and spoiled friends. And her father, or less likely her mother, had decided to keep her safe and distract her by asking her to look for something.

What exactly were they looking for? A ring? A very rare stone? Or some lost picture?

Oscar clenched his fists, already managing to imagine how difficult it would be to deal with that girl. Couldn't he have someone easier to handle? He was no longer old enough to keep up with the whims of a little girl.

When they went outside, the girl raised the hood of her sweatshirt to hide from prying eyes and walked with a determined step towards the parking lot of the library.

"Diana, slow down," Lieutenant Caruso ordered, also behaving as if she were dealing with a capricious child.

Without turning to look at her or answer, she slowed and allowed them to catch up.

At least she obeyed like a good girl.

Oscar had to straighten his pants, ordering himself to calm down.

The van was large enough to hold all seven of them. The girl rushed to climb into the seat in front, near the steering wheel. Lieutenant Caruso stopped a few steps from the van, turning to speak to the five mercenaries.

Oscar was almost tempted to ask her for five minutes to smoke a cigarette.

"I'll take you to the airport. From there I will hand over command to Whiskey, the eldest of you. If you then decide to organize yourselves differently and have another captain, do as you prefer." She pointed to the Whiskey file. "In your file, I left the coordinates that you must reach as your first objective. I will keep in touch with you through Diana.”

"It's not very wise to give her a phone if she has to hide," the masked man pointed out.

"The phone she has is new and no one can trace it but me," the lieutenant replied with a touch of irritation at being questioned. “You mustn't take her phone away. It will keep her safe. The threat can't trace her right now.”

Oscar narrowed his eyes, still unable to trust the woman in front of him. A disposable phone would have been safer, but what he glimpsed in the girl's hands was a recent and expensive model.

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow and looked at them all, daring them to question her again. None of the five spoke.

"You can put your bags in the back." She led them to the back of the van and opened the door. Inside, Oscar noticed only a large backpack that he assumed belonged to the girl.

Oscar threw his bag along with the others and hurried to find a seat, aiming for one near the window.

The lieutenant got behind the wheel and started the car. "If you have any other questions, you can ask them now."

Whatever question Oscar had in mind was aimed at the girl sitting across from him, but as long as Lieutenant Caruso was present to defend her, he doubted he could get the information he wanted.

He then began to study the file in his possession. The first page contained only information about Diana Chiara Spina that could have been used in case of need, such as her blood type and her allergies. He read the two emergency numbers and tried to memorize them.

Subsequent ones concerned the details of the mission and information on his companions.

To receive their money they had to protect the girl even from themselves. It was forbidden to try to have sex with her. The lieutenant would have learned of it and would immediately cancel the mission to reach Diana and take her away from them.

Oscar wondered how she would know. They could have stolen the girl's phone, who would no longer be able to contact her. It had been naive of the lieutenant to warn them of the existence of the telephone.

His gaze lifted to probe the other men. Being five of them, it was likely that at least one of them would try to touch the girl inappropriately. Oscar worked hard to decipher who it could be. Potentially they would all be capable of it. He also observed Whiskey. He still didn't know him enough to answer that doubt with certainty.

As he read on, he found a description of the possible threats. The lieutenant warned them to try not to attract too much attention (Who did she think she was dealing with? Newbies?), to avoid public places, and never to reveal their identities. "Never contact any military other than me" was written in capital letters.

Oscar couldn't explain why that point was essential. He skipped over and moved on to the next paragraph, reading other details that he thought were useless.

An entire paragraph dwelt on the little girl's period, with advice on what meds and pads to buy, how to clean blood from clothes, and more that Oscar skipped.

One sentence, in particular, caught his attention. “Don't question Diana about her past. She will tell you about the man who is haunting her when she deems it appropriate."

Oscar's skin crawled.

Man haunting her.

It was an indisputable sentence, which confirmed and denied his theories. The girl was in danger because of a man who was persecuting her.

Oscar rubbed his chin and thought about who it could be. A stalker? Maybe someone from her past. If that mission had been created, it had to be someone dangerous.

He hoped he wasn't dealing with some drug cartel. If the Italian mafia was involved, everything would have been more complicated.

He thought back to the capitalized sentence he had read above. Maybe it was a soldier. Or someone rich enough to have asked the military for help.

"Are there other mercenaries looking for her?" Whiskey asked suddenly.

Oscar expected the lieutenant not to answer.

"No," she said, surprising him.

The girl made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “They still think the worst threat is human.” Even though she said it softly, they all heard her.

The Indian man, who was sitting behind the steering wheel seat, looked at her with wide eyes, and the lieutenant said something in Italian. Oscar thought it was an insult or a warning to keep quiet. The girl answered in an angry voice.

There was silence in the van, although it was clear that no one had yet stopped thinking about what she had just said.

What the fuck did she mean that there was a threat worse than humans?

Chapter Text

Ghost leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs under the little girl's seat. The sentence she had spoken kept repeating itself in his head. He tried to make sense of it, but he found none.

His mind had immediately thought of aliens. Ghost didn't believe in their existence. Even if they existed, they had not yet made it to Earth.

Maybe the little girl had made a sleazy joke that didn't make anyone laugh. Ghost would have believed it if it hadn't been for the icy gaze that the lieutenant had given her.

Ghost wanted to get to the airport quickly. The sooner the lieutenant let them go, the sooner he could find a moment to take the little girl aside and question her. He wondered if his companions were also curious. Probably they were and this could allow him to ally with them during the interrogation.

The little girl was clearly weak, helpless, and pathetic. It would only take a few minutes and a minimum of strength to extract the answers they wanted.

Were they really aliens?

Ghost shook his head, forcing himself to dismiss that thought.

He wouldn't mind seeing them.

As a child, before joining the army, he had seen all the documentaries the television could offer about them. He shifted his gaze to the Italian countryside they were passing through, eager to stop thinking about his past.

Ghost had to concentrate on his job. He needed the money. He just had to make sure that little girl survived and that no one hurt her. He hated not being able to trust one hundred percent of the men around him. The possibility of one of them trying to ravish her made him uneasy.

That clause was making everything more complex.

But he understood why it was necessary.

Having five strong men like them with such a weak little girl for months on end created a dangerous circumstance. Ghost had to stay alert every second, making sure no one was alone with her for too long.

He studied the little girl's profile, wondering if the clause applied even if she was the one to initiate a sexual act first. She didn't give him the impression of being that kind of woman, but maybe one of the other men, obviously older and more experienced than her, could have manipulated her into doing it.

Ghost closed his eyes, telling himself that he didn't have to worry yet. He would think about the possible scenarios only later, when they would be created.

To distract himself, Ghost imagined the million waiting for him. He thought in detail about how he would spend the million.

He would buy a second home, perhaps by the sea, for his mother, a new car for his brother, and filled his nephew with toys. With the money left, Ghost would enjoy the rest of his years, perhaps moving to a quiet city and living off his income.

He seemed to have a bright future ahead.

The only thing he had to do was protect the little girl from the aliens.

He fought back a laugh. He bit his lip and leaned forward. The man sitting on his left looked at him confused, but a glance from Ghost was enough to push him to focus his attention elsewhere.

One of the first things he had to do as soon as he was alone with the new team was to get to know them. Who were the men surrounding him? His file included several pages on each of them. Not only were their physical and medical details reported, but also hints of their past. He found out that all of them had been in the army. The two with the long and complex names were Americans with South American origins; the man sitting next to him was from South Korea; and the one after from India. Each of them had served for different years and Ghost was happy that he didn't know any of them and, above all, that they had never been enemies of him. They didn't need more to worry about, the little girl's obvious bad temper was enough. Nothing Ghost couldn't handle.

He had already dealt with women who thought they were invincible. He would need little to put her back in her place.

The rest of the journey continued in silence. Ghost looked away from the landscape only to observe the little girl.

Within ten minutes of leaving, she had put on the headphones and closed her eyes.

Ghost had recognized them. They were those of a person who had suffered a lot and from whom everything had been taken away. The aliens must have kidnapped her family. He held back another laugh. Or, even better, they had kidnapped her as a baby to experiment on her and now they were trying to get her back to study her even more.

He took off his sunglasses to rub his eyes as his body shook with laughter.

When they arrived in front of the airport, the lieutenant parked the van in the first free space she could find. Ghost darted outside, eager to move after spending a full hour sitting.

He followed the others to the trunk door, pausing behind the little girl to study her some more. Ghost was the tallest of the group and she was the shortest. She seemed tiny in front of him.

One of the Americans stepped forward, taking his bag first. He, too, looked tiny next to Ghost, who eyed him smugly.

Having taken their bags, they all stepped aside to allow the lieutenant to lock up the van. Still silent, they walked to the airport entrance. Ghost glanced around, trying to find anyone who looked suspicious. Many people were looking in their direction and it worried him. Together they attracted too much attention for the wrong reasons.

A little girl with five men who were obviously older than her? It obviously would catch other people's attention. They had to think of a plan to follow in public. Perhaps he or the Indian, being the youngest of the team, could pass for her boyfriend. The other three were too old. At best, they would have passed for her father.

"Diana." They all turned to the lieutenant, who had approached the little girl. She placed his hands on her shoulders. Ghost's gaze lingered on the tattoo on the lieutenant's left wrist. It was a fairly large red drop, with seven lines running from the curve and meeting at the tip. Having never seen that symbol, he wondered if it had any particular meaning. The woman said something in Italian, a language Ghost knew very little. He recognized only one word, "attenzione," because it wasn't too similar to its English equivalent.

The little girl looked down and seemed embarrassed by what she was hearing. Ghost tried to figure out what their relationship was. They didn't seem familiar to each other yet, but when the lieutenant spread her arms and seemed to invite the little girl into a hug, the youngest leaped into that contact. Ghost saw her shoulders and her face relax. The moment only confused him. He didn't understand if their relationship was more intimate than he had thought or if the little girl was just in need of physical contact.

In a couple of days, he probably would have figured out the answer himself.

Part of him hoped it was the latter because then he could have accommodated her himself.

The lieutenant smiled and rested her chin on the girl's head. The two remained attached for almost two minutes. Ghost watched them pass by the watch on the Korean's wrist.

"What time does our plane leave?" asked the short American, looking at the two women impatiently.

The lieutenant whispered something in Italian and the little girl laughed. "You still have two hours to take it," she replied, taking her arms away. "Diana, the tickets are in the first pocket…" The little girl turned to allow her access to the bag. "Thank you, sweetheart." From the little girl's hinted smile, that nickname seemed to please her. "Here they are." The lieutenant took out six printed sheets and handed them to each of them.

The little girl took a step towards Ghost and the others, her head turned to look at the older woman.

"Everything will be fine," she told her in a reassuring voice. "I promise you."

The little girl bit her lip and nodded. "Thank you."

The lieutenant smiled. Her gaze, growing colder and more controlled, moved to the five mercenaries who watched her in anticipation of receiving further orders. "Good luck."

It was the signal that their mission had officially started.

Ghost kept her back straight and tightened his grip on his bag.

"Let's go," ordered the taller, older American. The lieutenant had pinned him as Captain. Ghost would consider him as one until they had a meeting to vote on whoever they wanted or until he did something wrong.

The little girl snorted loudly, drawing glares from all the men. Pretending not to be with them, she placed herself at the top of the team and walked with a firm step towards the interior of the airport.

The tall American grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “You can't go alone,” he told her angrily, leaning down to speak in her ear. “You will always walk among us, staying where we can all keep an eye on you.” The little girl glared at him. "Have I been clear?"

Pulling free of his grip with a jerk, the little girl stepped forward, defiantly disobedient. "Have you ever been here?" she asked, shifting her gaze to each of them. "I have." She bit her lip and continued to stare at them arrogantly. “I already know where we need to go, so you follow me.”

Ghost inhaled through his nose to try to calm down. The situation was worse than he had anticipated.

The tall American put his hands on his hips and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Okay,” he conceded with a sigh. Ghost thought it wasn't a bad tactic to please the stupid spoiled girl. If the tall American had behaved like the peacemaker or the good cop, the others might have done the opposite. “Lead us.”

The little girl looked surprised by his answer. Her lids fluttered and her face became impassive. "Come," she said, walking slowly.

Ghost needed a moment to interpret her behavior. Was she disappointed that the American or the others hadn't tried to fight her and had accommodated her? Did she want to be treated badly? Or maybe she wasn't used to winning so easily.

Every minute spent with that little girl was making Ghost lose his temper. He wanted to open her head to examine it carefully. What would he find inside her?

Aliens?

He closed his eyes and pursed his lips.

The little girl led them through the flood of people who were filling the airport that July morning. She turned around several times to make sure they were following her. Ghost met at least half of the times her eyes and he kept reading the same sadness and anger in them.

Anyone who wanted to harm her had to be a monster. Perhaps that was what she meant by that phrase. It had been a simple comment on the inhumanity of the man who wanted her.

Ghost had to abandon the possibility of seeing an alien in disappointment.

The little girl stood in line to check in. Looking at her shoulders, Ghost thought it was good to have her in front of them. They could pretend they weren't together and follow her all the way to the plane. He hoped his mates had come to the same conclusion.

Ghost looked down at his ticket. Their first destination was Edinburgh. Knowing he was going back to the UK tightened his guts. His family was there, a few hours from where he was about to go, but the mission would keep him away from them.

But mostly he didn't want to remember who he associated with Scotland. Ghost hadn't spoken to him in years and he was planning to keep it that way.

When their turn came, they went one at a time. Finished checking in, the little girl walked over to the chairs near the giant glass windows to their right and looked down at her phone screen. Ghost kept his eyes on her the entire time, making sure no one disturbed her. She spotted some men eyeing her. The others seemed to notice them too and the tall American, the first of them five to pass the check-in, quickly reached the little girl. The harassing gazes lingered on her a little longer, shifting as they realized she wasn't alone.

Ghost was the fourth to finish. "I have to go to the bathroom," he warned them, after joining the little girl and the two Americans. “You start going without me. I'll see you at the gate."

The two Americans eyed him disapprovingly. Ghost didn't want to explain to them that he had to take off his balaclava and replace it with a surgical mask. Neither he wanted to reveal why he didn't want to show them his face during the security check.

The little girl crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at him carefully. From the way she was looking at him, lingering over the cover he was using, it seemed that she understood his intentions. "We won't judge you if you're ugly."

Ghost's eyes widened. At the same time, the two Americans stared at her.

“You can take off that ridiculous balaclava you're wearing,” she insisted, looking him up and down in disgust.

"I can assure you, you don't want to see what's under the mask," Ghost replied, clenching his fists.

The little girl smiled. “I can assure you that everyone here has seen worse.”

Ghost couldn't hold his tongue. "Are you talking about the face you see in the mirror every morning?"

The short American didn't have time to hold back his laughter. He had to cover his mouth with a hand and turn around.

Ghost kept his gaze fixed on the girl, waiting for her reaction. He saw her expression transform as she processed the insult. From surprise she became angry. He braced himself for a tantrum and to hear her scream.

The little girl did no such thing.

She smiled.

“Thanks for saying that,” she replied, taking a step to Ghost's left. “You lifted a weight from me.”

Three pairs of eyes looked at her in confusion.

The little girl giggled. “By the way you looked at me, I was afraid you all had fallen madly in love with me at first sight. Knowing that you find me ugly is good. Amazing." She played with a strand of her hair, imitating an embarrassed little girl flirting with an older man. “We will get along very well.”

Her sarcasm stung Ghost's pride.

It wasn't the direction he had expected. With her comment, Ghost had thought to belittle her, embarrass her, and make her understand who she was dealing with. Instead, she gave the impression of not being impressed. Her arrogance and self-confidence had remained intact and had even protected her from the other nasty things Ghost wanted to say.

Now he was one hundred percent sure. The mission wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

Chapter Text

Yoo waited for the last of the group to finish checking in before joining the rest of the team.

A woman passed by him, forcing him to smell her pungent scent and Yoo closed his eyes. He hated airports. They were always a swarm of sweaty, disgusting bodies, moving quickly and disorderly from spot to spot. As long as he stayed in there, he wouldn't be able to breathe properly.

When the Indian guy finished too, Yoo started walking towards the others. He tore his gaze away from his target, who was lolling in on herself, only to follow a familiar sound. He scrutinized a group of young adults who were arguing a few feet away from him. It only took him a second to realize they were Koreans like him.

He continued to look at them longingly.

He had been away from home for six months now. Between one job and another, he hadn't been able to find the time to return to South Korea. But after that mission, he could retire without worries. He would be able to pay off the debts they had taken for Sooyun's schools and even manage to buy her a small apartment somewhere.

When he caught up with his team, the masked thug set off by himself, going somewhere to their right. Yoo stared at him, confused. From the way he moved, he looked angry. He sought the gaze of the two Americans for some explanation.

The American with the mustache crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the girl in disappointment, while the other, shorter and without a mustache, shook his head and grinned.

"What happened?" the Indian asked, stopping next to Yoo.

"Someone has a fragile ego," the girl commented, picking up the backpack that she had placed near her feet. "I'm going to the gate now. After confirming that it exists, I'll go get something to eat."

Yoo looked at the time on his wristwatch. It was twelve o'clock and their plane would leave at two fifteen, so they had plenty of time.

"We'll do it like this," the mustachioed American began. "We split up. You go up front and pretend you're alone. We will follow you. Try not to stray too far because, as you specified, none of us have ever been to this airport and we could get lost.”

The girl listened carefully, nodding. "None of you are European," she added, glancing at them quickly. "So your security checks will be slower and longer." She looked up at their captain as if asking him what she had to do.

"You go through your checks, stop as if you were replying to a message or looking for something in your backpack, wait for the first of us to pass you, and then start walking again," ordered the short American. Yoo caught a glimpse of the regrowth of his beard and instinctively touched his smooth chin.

"Okay," the girl replied, adjusting her backpack and picking up her phone.

Without saying anything else, she put on her headphones and set off for the security checkpoint.

Yoo waited for the mustachioed to be the first to follow and move behind her.

The girl walked quickly, impatient to get to her destination. Yoo wondered if she was that hungry. Judging by her outward appearance, she looked undernourished.

She kind of reminded him of his daughter. Not so much physically, but in the way she moved and the tone she used. Sooyun had been a difficult teenager to handle, especially when he and her mother had separated. Having a father in the military, who also spent years away from home, had never been easy for her. Yoo hadn't told her yet that he had resigned from the military to become a mercenary and he didn't plan to do so soon. He had no idea how she would react and he cared too much to lose her.

It was enough for him to have his ex-wife make his life harder. After they separated, she had tried everything to prevent him from seeing their daughter.

When he would come home with the million, he would do everything in his ability to get involved in his daughter's life again. No more important events would be missed.

Every time he remembered that he hadn't been able to be present at her graduation ceremony, he felt his chest tighten in shame and pain.

The four men lined up to go through the security checks. Yoo spotted the girl quickly. She stood beyond the wall created by the controls, near the luxury brand stores, her head lowered to the screen of her phone.

Yoo stared at that thing with annoyance. Spending too many hours on that would turn her brain to mush. They had to try to stop her from using it so often. It was not good for her and in their contract, it was specified that they had to take care of her in every aspect of her life.

The two Americans in front of him began to speak in a language Yoo didn't know. He remembered reading in their information that they had Latin American roots and assumed they were using Spanish.

Their complicity annoyed him. If they were talking about the mission, they might have used a language they all knew.

He hoped that their behavior wouldn't lead to the creation of alignments within the team. It would only create distractions from the mission.

The mustached was the first to reach the girl, who kept her eyes down on her phone. She only started to move after letting the other American pass.

Keeping a few meters away from each other, they walked toward their destination. Their target kept her word. As soon as they had found the gate, the target turned around and walked back towards the restaurants and coffee shops. She stopped at the closest one to order a coffee and a sandwich. After taking a bottle of water, she sat down at one of the more isolated tables.

Yoo followed the two Americans to the largest table two meters away from her. He didn't order anything and turned his head to look at the girl who had her back to them. She had positioned her phone horizontally, using the tissue holder as a stand, and was watching a TV series on Netflix.

"We should wait for the big guy before discussing," said the American, touching his mustache. His friend was standing, his arms resting on the bar counter, while he waited to be able to collect the three coffees they had ordered.

Yoo and the Indian nodded in agreement.

The big guy kept them waiting for more than ten minutes. Yoo got bored, while he listened without understanding a single word of the conversations around him. When he finally reached them, he had swapped out the balaclava for a face mask and a hooded sweatshirt. Both were black. Only his eyes were no longer hidden. They were a dirty, violent blue, with long, blondish eyelashes. Yoo glimpsed his deep dark circles and wondered when was the last time he had slept.

"Now that we're all here," said their captain, fixing his gaze straight ahead, which coincidentally coincided with the Indian's face, "introductions are in order, aren't they?" His gaze moved to the others, lingering a few seconds longer on the big guy who had sat at the head of the table and was staring at the back of the girl's neck.

The American with the mustache reached over the back of his friend's chair and rocked in his own. “You can call me Whiskey.”

"Spider," his friend said. His arms were crossed and his gaze was probing the faces of the men at his table.

"Siva," said the Indian, twirling his empty cup between his fingers. His gaze was focused on the debris that had accumulated at the bottom.

“Ghosts.” The thug's voice was rough and harsh.

“Yoo.”

"Good," Whiskey said, with a hint of a smile. "Do you want to choose another captain?"

Ghost shrugged. "It wouldn't make sense to change it now," he mused without shifting his gaze. "Let's wait a few days." Yoo found himself agreeing. Not knowing each other yet, it would be a useless change.

"No," Shiva answered.

"I'm fine like this." Spider smiled at Whiskey, who grinned back happily.

“Who do you think is looking for our little girl?” Ghost suddenly asked. His eyes were still fixed on their target as if he feared that she might disappear at any moment.

"Mafia," Whiskey replied, stopping to swing to allow some girls to pass behind him. His gaze fell on their bodies, which he studied mischievously.

"Mafia?" Siva asked, looking at him confused.

Yoo cursed under his breath. He too had thought about the Mafia, but he wasn't sure that was the right answer. From what little he had heard around, hearing stories of other soldiers and mercenaries, the mafia was still influential in Italy, and often the State had to intervene to protect its civilians. If the girl was persecuted by the mafia, it didn't make sense for an Italian army lieutenant to hire five mercenaries to protect her during an adventure around the world. It would have made more sense to move her to another state, change her name, and keep her safe there.

There was still too much missing information to give them a glimpse of the big picture.

Spider met Siva's gaze and leaned forward across the table. “She could be the daughter of someone powerful who has been threatened.”

"The file cited that a man is looking for her," Ghost pointed out, tapping the table with a gloved finger.

Spider gave him a look, as if offended at being interrupted. “It could be a man angry with her father or a stalker.”

"And this man's name is Mafia?" Siva asked.

Everyone stared at him in confusion.

"Don't you know what the mafia is?" Spider looked at him in disbelief. "The best-known criminal organization in the world?"

Siva widened his dark eyes, but it seemed clear to Yoo that he had never heard of it. "Oh yes, sure."

How did he not know of the existence of the mafia?

From the looks the other men gave him, they all found his question strange.

Siva looked back at the cup and mumbled something that Yoo didn't understand.

He forced himself to look away. It was not for him to judge the strangeness of his companions.

"There's one more thing we should discuss," Whiskey announced, looking at their target. “All together we attract too much attention. It's best to split up."

"What do you suggest?" Spider asked him.

Ghost took a packet of sugar and put it in his pocket. Yoo stared at him confused. “Better to travel in two groups. One of us should always be with the little girl and the others together. So we can pretend she's with her boyfriend."

Spider pointed at himself, Whiskey, and Yoo. "We could at most pass to be her father. If we behaved like a couple, we would still arouse attention." His brow furrowed as if he wasn't happy with what he had just said.

"I don't think Diana should be alone with one of us for too long," Siva said, looking at her.

It was the first time that one of them had referred to the target by her name. Yoo felt uncomfortable and the other men didn't seem to appreciate the change either.

"So?" Whiskey urged him to continue, but Siva stared silently at the girl.

Spider rubbed a hand over his chin. “We could split like this: Siva, Ghost and the girl, and the three of us together. So you two, who are younger, can pass as her friends, brothers, or boyfriends. Do as you like."

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay." From his tone and the lines around his eyes, Yoo thought he was smiling.

“How do we proceed as soon as we land in the UK? Where should we go?” Yoo asked, shifting his gaze to the people who were moving around them.

He noticed a group of dark-skinned men looking at the girl, but they immediately moved on to reach their destination.

"We need to get a map of the area to figure out where we're headed," Whiskey said.

"We can use the girl's phone," Ghost pointed out.

Yoo thought it was a good idea.

Whiskey didn't seem to agree. “If we take her phone away, I'm sure she'll make a scene and we don't want to make her our enemy, right?”

Ghost looked into his eyes without answering.

Whiskey's forehead wrinkled. "Right?"

Ghost looked away and nodded.

“Why can't we ask her to lend it to us or just let her guide us?”

Once again, Siva received disapproving looks. Nobody bothered to answer him.

"I don't think we'll be able to reach our goal today," Spider said. "Unless we want to travel at night."

"We've got no way to move," Whiskey pointed out. "It's best if we find a place to stay for the night and rent a six-seater car the next day."

"And if we don't find one that has six seats, she goes in the trunk," Spider said.

No one laughed and Yoo suspected it wasn't a joke.

Their target stood up. She took her cup and brought it back to the counter, politely greeting the barmaid who smiled at her. Without saying a word or looking at them, she walked past their table. Yoo wondered how she could pretend not to see or feel the five pairs of eyes on her.

"Now?" Siva asked, gripping the edge of the table with one hand.

Whiskey stared at the ceiling. "Now we follow our baby girl."

Chapter Text

Anxiety was eating up Siva.

Had his true identity already been discovered?

He shouldn't have accepted this mission. He was not the right person for the job.

It was the first time he was so far away from home. In that world, there was nothing familiar. The lights, the colors, and the smells… It was all too intense.

The men who had been assigned to protect the girl were calm and controlled, they gave him the impression of being experts. Unlike them, this was Siva's first serious work. What he had done up to that moment seemed like silly homework. His family couldn't expect it to go smoothly.

Siva was not as good as his elder brother, nor observant, or as intelligent and agile as him.

He wasn't him.

He chewed on his bottom lip, peeling away the skin.

Since Diana said that sentence, panic had taken hold of him, pushing him to think the worst. It hadn't left him for even a second, slowly wearing him down from the inside.

While it logically made sense to conclude that Diana wasn't talking about him, Siva couldn't feel any better. The possibility that he had already let himself be discovered remained and that doubt tormented him.

He looked up at the man who was leaning next to him on the wall. His gaze was fixed on the wall opposite them, which was two meters away.

When Diana got up, they waited a few minutes before following her, calming down only after realizing that she was headed to the toilets. The captain had ordered him and the man who called himself Ghost to wait for the girl outside the bathroom and stay with her the rest of the time until the plane.

Siva had never flown before. His older brother, who had already dealt with the Earthlings in the past, had talked to him about airplanes, explaining how it worked. The mere idea of climbing into that box made him tremble.

How did the earthling get into those things?

He had to hurry and find a way to kill Diana and steal her heart.

As if she sensed he was waiting for her, Diana stepped out of the ladies toilet. Her head remained low until Ghost got in her way.

"What?" she asked in a grumpy voice, looking at the man in front of her. "A person can't even go to the bathroom alone now?"

“You can't move without us,” he scolded.

The man's position should have been intimidating: chest out, arms crossed, and legs spread, but Diana didn't seem intimidated.

She rolled her eyes and tried to get past him. "I'm going to the gate now, Daddy."

Siva felt Ghost's breath quicken and his blood trickles down his legs. "We're coming with you," he insisted, still blocking her path.

"Why?" Diana turned to look at Siva too. He shivered.

Don't look at me, don't look at me.

When he would finally kill her, Siva had to find a way to cover her eyes or he would never forget the moment life left them.

But it was too early to think about that. He still had a plan to arrange.

He knew he had to take her aside, perhaps to an isolated place where no one, especially not the other four, could see her. Then, he had to get rid of her dead body, but that was still simple. Devour her heart, obtain her powers, and finally return home.

He looked down at the bracelet that would allow him to leave.

The details of the plan needed time. And he had to make sure everything was perfect.

"Because we're your boyfriends/friends/brothers," Ghost said condescendingly.

Diana stared at him with a disgusted expression. "What the fuck did you say?"

Ghost grabbed the bridge of his nose and lowered his chin, muttering insults. “Siva and I will be following you closely for most of the journey. It's safer that way and we'll attract less attention."

A woman, who wanted to get to the toilets, asked Ghost to move. The man quickly stepped aside and Diana took advantage of his movement to pass him. Ghost and Siva followed her out of the narrow corridor that led to the toilets.

"If you want to be my 'friends', you have to start by shutting up," she snapped, walking briskly and trying to put space between them.

"Don't misunderstand," Ghost said, catching her in a single stride. "We are not friends. You're just a job like any other."

“You're breaking my heart,” she replied, placing her hands on her chest.

Siva started walking to her right, thus blocking the girl between himself and the other man.

Ghost grabbed her arm, forcing Diana to stop, and turned her to face him. "Why are you being difficult?" he asked angrily.

"I'm not being difficult."

"Yes, you are."

Siva closed his eyes. He was already hating them both. It was like dealing with puppies who hadn't yet learned to manage their emotions. He stepped forward and reached out to stand between them. "Let's stay calm," he said. "We don't have to attract attention, remember?"

Ghost let go of Diana's arm with a jerk. She responded with vulgar insults and curses.

Siva glared at her. "Stop insulting the gods."

Diana's eyes widened. "You understand Italian?"

Siva's gaze quickly shifted and he cursed himself for what he had just said. He certainly couldn't explain to her that he could understand every single language spoken on Earth thanks to the spell sealed in one of the bracelets he wore on his left wrist. "Yes," he said, swallowing.

“Oh…” she whispered, narrowing her eyes. Her expression seemed thoughtful. "Good to know."

Without another word, she spun around and continued walking towards the gate. The two men followed in silence. Diana sat in the rows of seats in front of the gate doors. Siva and Ghost took the seats next to her, while the three men who had followed them at a distance stood a few rows behind.

"Why hire us if you don't want to have us around?" Ghost did not give up and resumed the interrogation. By "we" Siva was not sure what he meant. Probably soldiers or… mercenaries. Yes, that was the right word. They were mercenaries. Siva repeated it, not trusting his brain. Though he studied his character for days, he kept forgetting essential details.

His older brother could have explained to him what the Mafia was before letting him go!

"Because," Diana began, "if it were up to me," she pointed to herself to reiterate the point, "I would never have resorted to men."

Ghost stared at her with sharp eyes, it seemed that he was intrigued and angry at the same time. “What do you have against men?”

Diana turned to look at him. "I hate them."

Ghost moved his head and burst out laughing.

Diana mumbled more insults. “I relied on the lieutenant, thinking she was sending me soldiers, not you.”

Siva felt pity for that little girl.

A simple whim of a deity had turned into a horrible life for her. He wondered what her life had been like up until that moment. Definitely not beautiful.

From the file that had been given to him, Siva understood that another creature was already on her trail. He had no idea who it was, and Siva hoped with all his heart that he hadn't been discovered already. On reflection, the man mentioned could not be him. The girl refused to talk about her past as if something had happened that she didn't want to think about. Maybe the man who was looking for her had already hurt her. This meant that it was not Siva.

And that there was someone else threatening her.

Siva leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. Why was he chosen to go there? He didn't like leaving home and not even the powers that had been promised to him in exchange for that murder seemed worth it.

He wanted to go back.

He couldn't survive until the mission was completed.

"You'll have to settle for us."

Diana stood up and sat down in the row of seats in front of them. She turned both middle fingers to Ghost and Siva stared at her confused by what the gesture meant.

Ghost lifted his chin and looked at her intently. Siva sensed that he was about to lose his mind and understood that he had to intervene or the situation would drastically worsen.

“Stop bothering her,” he ordered, scowling at the man with the mask.

Ghost gave him an outraged look as if asking which side he was on.

Siva saw his younger sisters again. He had always hated having to mediate their quarrels. He hoped that at least intervening on Diana's behalf might earn him some of her trust.

Diana closed her arms across her chest and glared at him in annoyance. "I don't need your help."

Ghost pointed at her with a hand. "That's what you get for defending a spoiled little girl."

Siva put his hands in his hair.

They had known each other for a few hours and he already couldn't handle them anymore.

The only good thing about hating his teammates and Diana was that he wouldn't feel guilty about killing them.

In theory, he could have spared the other men, but he doubted that he would be able to push them away from their target. They watched her too closely, always making sure they had her under control. Perhaps, as the days passed, they would trust her more and let their guard down.

Luckily for him, the two children stopped arguing. Diana put the headphones back on and hooked the device she was holding into a hole she found between the chairs. Siva still hadn't figured out what that thing was, but it seemed to be important and the others wanted to take it away from Diana. He deduced that it was a priceless object. He shifted his gaze, studying the other people in the airport and looked at the same devices in different shapes and colors. Maybe it was a common item, but one that only some people could afford.

He dropped his head back. His brother's earthling manual needed updating.

It was nearly an hour before the passengers on the flight began lining up to board the plane. Siva observed his companions' hands, making sure to take the same papers that they had. He studied the black notebook the size of his hand curiously. The word passport meant nothing to him, but from what he had understood it was an essential document for moving around the countries of the Earth.

They passed other checks, faster and calmer than the previous ones. Siva returned the smile of the woman who examined his passport and followed Diana through another claustrophobic corridor. Why were Earthlings obsessed with making low, narrow places? Having such a large planet one expected all the space to be used.

Diana turned to them. "What seats do you have?"

Ghost looked at the paper they had received an hour earlier and said a number associated with a letter. Diana sighed with relief.

"At least I'm not close to you."

"I can move and sit next to you if you want."

"I'm fine, thanks."

Siva studied his paper. "12A?" he read aloud.

"We're close," Diana said, looking at him wide-eyed.

Siva was relieved to know that she was beside him. He preferred to be with her than with the other men. Even though the girl always had a dark gaze, he felt calmer when she was next to him rather than knowing her far away and being alone with the others.

Maybe that feeling was due to her powers. Siva knew that whoever was blessed with the powers of the Lover Goddess attracted others to himself.

As soon as they stepped into the box that humans called an airplane, Siva felt his guts tighten. He didn't want to be there.

He clutched at his chest and began to pant.

It was all too close, small, and narrow. The roof was low, with strange parts sloping down towards them. The seats were many and all close together.

"Can you move?" said the person behind him, pushing him.

Siva ran sweaty hands over his clothes, forcing himself to take a step forward. Diana was waiting for him a few seats back. Siva met her concerned eyes and quickly lowered his head.

He trudged over to the seat she indicated.

His heart was pounding in his chest, drowning out all outside sounds. Siva closed his eyes and gasped pathetically.

“Hey,” a gentle voice murmured.

Siva felt a gentle hand on his arm and his eyes widened.

Diana was watching him. "Are you afraid of planes?"

He just nodded.

"I am sorry."

"Don't be," he said quickly, too aggressively.

Siva did not deserve her displeasure or sympathy. He was there to kill her!

Diana looked at Siva's chest, which was rising and falling too fast. "Can you do something for me?"

Siva stared at her in confusion.

“Can you tell me five things you see around you?”

Siva inhaled through his nose. He didn't understand why she was asking him to do something so stupid. "I'm seeing you."

"And?" Diana waved an arm to the backs of the seats in front of them.

“I see a paper with drawings,” he continued, concentrating on completing his work. "Your hand" still pressed to his arm. "A blue fabric."

"Mmm."

“I see a bag,” he added, looking up.

“Now five things you hear.”

Siva closed his eyes and concentrated on hearing. "Your voice, other voices, many, too many."

Diana tightened her grip on his arm. "Something else? You can also tell me what you feel with your other senses.”

"Your hand." Siva grabbed it and his thumb rubbed the girl's soft skin. It was a good feeling.

"What is going on?" Spider asked.

Siva widened his eyes and watched him as he sat next to Diana.

“He has a panic attack.”

Siva closed his eyes again and rested his head on the seat. "Kill me."

Spider laughed.

Shiva glared at him, offended. "I hear his laughter."

"Me too," Diana said, looking annoyed at the man sitting to her left.

"He's lying," Spider retorted, glaring at Siva with hatred disguised as amusement. “You were in the army. Do you really want me to believe that you are still afraid of airplanes?”

Questions like those were best left unanswered. He would just get in trouble.

Diana shook her head. “I can decide for myself who to believe,” she said sharply. “And I know a panic attack when I see one.”

Spider whispered a phrase so softly that Siva's confused mind could not register it.

Diana's head snapped at him and her fingers tightened aggressively around Siva's arm. "I understand Spanish, so you should avoid insulting me."

Spider approached her with a menacing expression. “Oh, the little girl knows Spanish? Who taught you that, Daddy?"

Diana was ready to respond with the same attitude, but Siva preceded her. "Can you both shut up, please?"

The two stared at him, annoyed by the interruption.

Siva closed his eyes, holding back the tears of terror that were threatening to pour out of his eyes.

He hated them all.

And that mission wasn't going to be as easy as he had anticipated.

Chapter Text

The sky overhead was dark and promised rain. Pedro hoped they had enough time to take refuge in some hotel.

Continuing to study the sky, he took another long breath, allowing the smoke from the cigarette to enter his body. By the time they had arrived in Scotland, he was already on his second cigarette.

"I'll look for a free cab," Spider said, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the ground. The kid glared at him indignantly, but she didn't scold him, though it was clear how badly she wanted to. Spider's gaze lingered on the many vehicles parked in front of the airport entrance.

Hundreds of people were walking around them, avoiding their group as if they were walls. Pedro watched a group of young women, probably a little older than the kid he was supposed to protect, pass a few meters away from them. He had to remind himself that he was working and couldn't afford any distractions.

"We don't need a cab," the kid replied, stepping decisively toward something to their right.

Pedro took a deep breath, commanding himself to remain calm. “Hey,” he called to her. "Where are you going? We need a cab to get around.”

He was too old to travel by public transport. If the kid insisted on taking a bus, he would remind her that the lieutenant had promised that their every need would be met. And Pedro really needed to feel comfortable inside a relaxing, private, and spacious car.

He wouldn't even mind taking a nap.

The kid pointed to a spot ahead of her. "I'm telling you we don't need it," she insisted, giving them an annoying smile.

Pedro aimed his gaze at a pudgy white man who was staring at his girl. He immediately stiffened. Before following the kid, he got rid of the butt and took his bag. Upon reaching her, he stood in front of her, to protect her if the situation required it.

The others followed.

"Who is that man?" Spider asked, occupying the right side of the kid, which Pedro had left free.

She looked at him with huge eyes and mock amazement. "I have no idea."

Pedro looked up at the sky and cursed in his mind. He shouldn't have been surprised that the million dollars had to be earned. This job would test his patience.

Before Spider or any of the others could say anything, the stranger came towards them. "Ave, sanguine natae," he exclaimed, bowing before the kid.

"Hi," she replied. Embarrassed, she rubbed the straps of her backpack. Pedro had noticed right away that it seemed almost bigger than her body.

"It's an honor for me to meet you," the man insisted. He took a step forward as if he wanted to take her hands and kiss them. Pedro's arm and Oscar's shot forward, blocking his access to the kid.

"Who are you?" Pedro asked, looking the man up and down.

In height, he was barely five foot six. He wore canvas pants and a shirt that gripped his limbs. Pedro found the colors he chose questionable. Beige with green on top? Disgusting. However, he had attracted the attention of the kid, so Pedro wondered if the choice had had that purpose in mind.

"Artemide sent me," the man replied.

"Artemide" was the code name of the operation.

The kid's name was Diana, after the Roman goddess of hunting. The corresponding Greek goddess was Artemis or Artemide in Italian.

A stupid name that even a fool would have traced back.

"And what does she send you to do?" Spider asked, scrutinizing the man as morbidly as Pedro and as if he still suspected he was facing a threat.

“To deliver this car and the address of the hotel where you will be staying tonight.”

Siva made an alarming sound behind Pedro, who turned to study him. The boy put a hand to his mouth and leaned towards the ground.

"Not again," Spider commented, putting his hands on his hips and looking wearily at the other.

When they got off the plane, Siva had held them still for twenty minutes because he had to vomit in the bathroom. Spider had told him that for most of the flight, he had squeezed the kid's hand and kept his eyes closed, while he whispered incomprehensible phrases. When she tried to get up to go to the toilet, Siva started whimpering and forced her to sit down.

"We should get him some medicine," the kid said, watching him with concern. "Fantasmino*, give him back rubs," she ordered.

Ghost, who had put on his balaclava while Siva was vomiting, looked at her in confusion. "What did you call me?"

"Trust me, it's a compliment."

It wasn't, but Pedro didn't say it out loud. Ghost gave him the impression of being as hotheaded as the kid and Pedro had no intention of fomenting their feud. "Do as she says," he ordered in a tired voice.

Pedro just wanted to get to that damned hotel and rest. It had been a long two days and this was the third plane he had taken in thirty hours. He was exhausted body and mind.

Ghost rolled his eyes, but followed the order. He turned to Siva and aggressively rubbed his back.

"It's worse!" cried the man doubled over.

Spider cursed under his breath, looking away in disappointment from that scene. It had been since their team had formed that Pedro kept seeing that look in different formats. Everyone seemed to disapprove of each other.

The perfect foundation for a great team.

Sighing, he turned to the pudgy man. “Are there any plastic bags inside the car?”

The man seemed unprepared. He stared at the kid as if begging her to forgive him for that awful mistake. “Well… I… I wasn't told to…”

The kid leaned forward, looking at him pityingly. "Don't worry," she said, cutting him off a little roughly. "Thanks for the car, we'll take care of the rest."

Why was she acting like she was the captain?

"The address of the hotel," Yoo added, and Pedro was grateful that he was the only one able to maintain some control.

"Oh yeah, sure." The man turned to open the door of the black car parked in front of them. "Here," he said, pulling out some papers and handing them over. Pedro took them first and quickly read the data reported. There was also a map of the route they were to take.

"Thanks," he said quickly. "Ghost, do you have an English driving license?"

Ghost walked away from Siva, still crouched on the ground. "Yes, I'll drive."

The man, looking fearfully at Ghost, took a bunch of keys out of his trouser pocket and handed it to him. Ghost immediately reached the wheel without saying anything else.

Pedro turned to look at Siva. "Are you OK, boy?"

Siva shook his head but straightened up. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself.

Spider looked at the pudgy man. "Is there more?"

"No."

Spider walked to the back door and slid it. “Ladies first,” he said, urging the kid inside.

"Now I'm not a little girl anymore?"

Pedro felt what little energy he had left being sucked away. Couldn't she shut up for a moment?

“Do you want to be demoted and go back to being a little girl or are you going to get in the fucking car without making a fuss?” snapped Spider, staring at her sternly.

The kid entered the car, not holding back from rolling her eyes and muttering insults in Italian.

Spider came in after her, taking the seat next to her and leaving the two in front of her free. Pedro stopped with a hand on the door and studied the other two men. "Siva, boy, you'd better go up front."

“Okay,” Siva whimpered.

He wasn't acting like a soldier at all.

Pedro found this suspicious, but his weariness prevented him from reaching any conclusions. He climbed into the car, sitting in the seat facing the kid. Sighing in exhaustion, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

Yoo entered last. Before he could close the door, the pudgy man stopped him.

Pedro had to open his lids again to glare at him. All the man's attention was, however, focused on the kid. He looked at her with an adoring expression and Pedro felt the need to kick him in the face to chase him away.

The man leaned inside the car, trying to get closer to the girl. "Good luck." He concluded the sentence by pronouncing a word that Pedro could not hear well.

Tamaheim? Tamhim?

The kid's face went white and her lips curved down. "Don't call me that," she said shakily, and it seemed she was about to cry.

The man looked surprised and started to say more, but Yoo took his hand off the door and closed it in his face. Pedro looked at him satisfied.

He watched as Yoo sat across from Spider and, feeling quiet and tired, he closed his eyes again, hoping they would let him rest. He didn't register Yoo asking Spider to throw his bag in the trunk. He heard the thud and ignored it, but couldn't do the same with the foot that stamped softly on his.

He opened heavy lids to stare at the kid. "Do you want me to put it away?" she asked in a weak voice, indicating the bag that Pedro had placed on his spread legs. Her gaze was low and energyless.

Whatever name the man uttered had destroyed the girl's morale.

Pedro just nodded. Before she could grab her, Spider got ahead of her. He tossed the bag behind them effortlessly. Pedro prepared to hear the kid moan and say something like "I could have done it by myself" and was surprised when she just stared out the window.

"Where do we have to go?" Ghost asked, starting the car.

Pedro bent his arm back and handed him the papers he had received. “Don't park out front. Leave the car a few minutes away. Even better if it's an isolated place and without cameras. Let's walk to the hotel in two groups, so no one will think we're together."

"How many rooms do we have?" Yoo asked, turning to look at Ghost, who Pedro assumed was studying the paper.

"Two," he replied. "One with two double beds and one with a double and a single."

Pedro met Oscar's gaze and they silently communicated that they would share the same bed because they only trusted each other.

He closed his eyes again, relieved to have him. Even though he would never call him a friend, he knew that Oscar was a reliable man, and right now that was all he needed.

Ghost finally pulled away from the airport.

The movement of the car lulled Pedro into sleep. A path that was interrupted after a few minutes.

"What did he call you?" Ghost asked.

"It's none of your business," the kid snapped, pulling her legs up to her chest and placing her shoes on the seat. She hugged her knees, hiding her face. Pedro thought she looked like a hedgehog.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you how to respect adults?" Spider's voice didn't hide his meanness in the slightest.

The kid squeezed her legs even tighter.

"Hey," Yoo told her in a kinder tone. "Don't cry, whatever name he called you, you don't have to care."

The kid lifted her head enough to look at him with bloodshot eyes. "I'm not crying."

Well, she was barely holding back.

"Should we go back and kill him?" Pedro asked, looking at her almost with compassion. At that moment she really seemed like a child, left to herself and sad. As much as he agreed with Spider that someone should teach her some respect, he didn't think it made sense to attack her in an aggressive tone.

The kid stared at him with a tearful gaze and seemed to reflect if it was the case to go back. “No,” she said finally, resting her forehead on her knees. "It's just a silly nickname."

"Who gave it to you?" Ghost insisted, not caring what emotional state she was in.

"Your mother!"

Ghost turned abruptly, parking the car halfway down the street. Pedro gripped the handle and his eyes widened in surprise. Ghost, ignoring the horns of the other drivers, turned to look at the kid. “Don't you ever dare make a joke like that again. Don't even put my mother's name in your mouth!"

Pedro had never found himself in such a disastrous team. He rubbed his eyes, sure he was feeling like crying too.

"And you should stop asking me about my past!" cried the kid, not raising her head from the shelter she had built. “I have no fucking intention of talking to you about it.”

Spider cursed in Spanish and Yoo glared at Ghost. "Can't you see she's upset?" he scolded him. "Leave her alone and get going."

"If you want to give me orders, get yourself elected captain," Ghost replied, turning away.

"I hate this world," Siva chimed in, his hands in his hair and looking like he was about to have another panic attack.

"Ghost, drive," Pedro ordered.

He hoped that the months that awaited him would pass quickly.

He desired it with all of himself.

Vocabulary:
Fantasmino*: little ghost.

Chapter Text

Ghost's table was silent. The little girl was staring straight ahead with blank, lost eyes. She hadn't shed a single tear during the ride but had remained withdrawn the entire time, ignoring their every attempt to communicate with her.

Ghost had tried to find an explanation for that behavior. A nickname usually didn't get such a heavy reaction, unless it was an insult. The weird man, however, had said it with admiration, as if for him it were something to be proud of and that he envied.

The conclusion Ghost had arrived at still didn't fully convince him.

It was logical to think that the little girl had become entangled in some dangerous cult. The idea of the cult explained several points: the man's attitude, the tattoo that Ghost had seen on both Lieutenant Caruso's and the man's wrists, and the girl's mission. In all this cauldron he still did not know how to insert the man who was persecuting her. As far as what concerned the nickname, however, it could have been the name of the role that the little girl had in the cult, which perhaps she hated.

Evidence against this theory was what the little girl had said when he asked her why she hated having them around. She had said that she wasn't the one who had chosen the men who were part of the team and that she only turned to the lieutenant for help.

He shifted his gaze to her, studying carefully for the umpteenth time. Maybe if he kept pestering her he would be able to get more detailed information. He was beginning to suspect, though, that the little girl would soon reach the limit of her patience. Part of him was curious to see her explode. Would she scream? Would she collapse on the floor crying? Another, the calmer and more logical part, was warning him that since he had known her he had started acting differently from normal.

Ghost couldn't explain it, but that little girl managed to make him feel like an idiot kid. There was something strange about her that attracted him. Annoying her was fun. Maybe it was just because she was being arrogant and spoiled, which was everything Ghost wasn't. He wanted to give her a jolt and make her shut her smart mouth. Couldn't she just let them work in peace?

She was always objecting and telling her every opinion…

At times like this, he missed being in the military. In his years as a lieutenant, he had been in control of entire groups of soldiers, who did his bidding without saying a word.

The little girl didn't listen to him. She didn't lower her gaze when he spoke to her. And above all, she didn't give him the respect he deserved.

He was there to protect her, then why was she acting like he was a threat too?

The little girl filled her glass with water. Ghost noticed that her plate was still almost full. “You should eat more,” he told her, expecting her to throw a tantrum.

Without looking at him, the little girl shook her head. "I'm full." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Siva, seated to Ghost's right at the round table they were occupying, was staring at the ceiling with weary eyes. "If you want to be strong and healthy, you have to feed yourself."

Ignoring the strange way the man spoke, Ghost put his elbow on the table and looked at the little girl. "Tomorrow we have a busy day ahead of us. We must reach our first destination" he insisted. "I don't want you to faint from fatigue and exhaustion in the middle of the day."

The little girl pressed a clenched fist to her forehead and sighed. Picking up her fork, she nodded.

Ghost watched astonished as she carried out the order he had just given her. She ate slowly, finishing the vegetables he and Siva had placed on her plate as they had entered the hotel dining room.

He looked away from her only to meet Spider's eyes. He and the other two men sat a few tables away from theirs. Yoo had found or bought a newspaper and was reading it while he was drinking the coffee he had ordered. Whiskey had left the room, Ghost could barely see him. He was talking to the girl who worked the front desk. Initially, Ghost had thought that he had come to her to flirt and disturb her, but when she pulled out a map, Ghost guessed his mate's true purpose and relaxed.

Those early days were essential for understanding and getting to know his companions. Having been with them for a short time, he had not yet managed to form a specific opinion. Only the little girl had managed to capture his thoughts for longer, not in a positive way.

Siva was strange. Ghost had started thinking it after the question about the mafia. His suspicion had been fueled when he had seen him on the plane, amid a panic attack.

Ghost thought it was cultural differences. Maybe he hadn't traveled much by plane when he had been a soldier, or maybe he had suffered a recent trauma during a mission in which the plane he was on went down. In any case, it wasn't the proper way for a soldier to behave. To be held by the hand as if they were children? Unspeakable.

He had to learn to live with his monsters on his own and not show them to anyone, much less the target he had sworn to protect.

The little girl put down her fork, drawing Ghost's attention back to her. Her cheeks were puffy from the food she was still chewing. She met Ghost's eyes as if asking him if he was satisfied to see the plate she had cleared away.

It wasn't so bad when she was silent and obeyed.

A smile formed on Ghost's lips, he let it go free, taking advantage of the fact that no one could see him.

Siva placed both hands on the table and pushed his chair noisily, getting a glare from Ghost. "I'm tired," he warned them.

"Do you want to eat more? Do you need something?" Ghost asked the little girl.

Swallowing, she stood up too. "I'm fine," she said. "I just want to sleep."

It was still eight in the evening. The dining room was nearly empty except for them. Ghost had been surprised to see so few people when they entered, especially since the summer season had already begun, but perhaps the tourists had preferred to dine elsewhere.

Ghost followed the little girl and Siva to their room.

They stopped to wait for the elevator, all three of them tired and lacking the will to climb the stairs to the fifth floor. The other three men caught up with them before the doors closed. Six people crammed into that small space. Ghost found himself pressed against the gray wall, the little girl's body pushing on him from the front and Spider's shoulder attached to his.

The little girl raised her head to watch the floors change on the black screen above the elevator doors. If being squeezed into a confined space with five older men was making her uncomfortable she didn't show it.

Siva, in front of her, leaned his forehead against the cold wall and muttered more phrases in a language Ghost didn't know. He hoped he wasn't having another panic attack.

The little girl placed a hand on Siva's shoulder blade and massaged him gently.

Spider shifted from foot to foot. "Dios mio," he murmured, looking up at the ceiling.

As soon as the elevator reached their floor, they all rushed outside. Ghost found himself pushing the little girl and their bodies just collided. Every time she stopped, Ghost rushed at her, pressing his A side to her B side.

That contact made him feel uncomfortable.

This little girl was making him feel uncomfortable and he had only known her for a few hours.

The two groups split up in front of their respective rooms and few words were exchanged. Whiskey told the three younger ones to wake up by eight in the morning and hurry up and get ready because they would be leaving before nine. "It's a couple of hours by car to get to the forest."

Ghost thus discovered that they were headed for a forest. He looked down at the little girl, wondering what she might be looking for in a Scottish forest.

Maybe aliens really had something to do with it.

Their room wasn't very modern, but it seemed spacious and clean. He looked at the two beds present, one was a huge double and long enough for a man like him, the other a single attached to the wall.

The little girl rushed towards the single bed. Realizing her intentions, Ghost reached out to grab her arm and stop her. "I'll take the single bed," he said, cocking his head to get a closer look at her.

The look she gave him was glacial. "Why should I let you have it?"

Let him have it? “This isn't a negotiation,” he reminded her, tightening his grip on her arm. Ghost's hand managed to complete a circle around the girl's limb. It would have been easy for him to break it.

Siva approached them and seemed to want to get between their bodies. Ghost glared at him, ordering him not to dare get in the way, but he was ignored. "Why don't you two take the double bed?"

"No!" they shouted in unison.

Ghost let go of the little girl's arm, disgusted at the mere idea of being in her bed.

"Let's play," she said, looking them both in the face. “Rock, paper, or scissors. Whoever wins gets the single bed.”

Ghost sighed. The idea of resolving that conflict with child's play was silly, but perhaps it would have been effective and quick. "Fine."

"I've never played it. How does it work?"

Siva received surprised looks and the little girl had to quickly explain the rules to him. "Let's get started," she announced, and the three of them got into position.

Paper, rock, rock.

Ghost glared at the little girl's hand.

"Did I win?" Siva asked.

“Let's do it again. The first round was practice," she insisted.

Paper, scissors, scissors.

"You understand, don't you, that you don't always have to put paper?" she asked, looking at Siva, who opened his mouth without saying anything. "Again. Seriously this time."

Scissors, paper, rock.

Ghost backed away. “This game is stupid. I'm the biggest and I'm taking the single bed."

The little girl pointed a finger at her. "Don't even think about it!"

Ghost advanced, towering over her smaller figure. "Or what? Tell me, what are you going to do to stop me from getting that bed?”

The little girl clenched her fists and jaw, looking at him with eyes filled with hatred. "Do not tempt me."

Ghost was ready to do it, to tempt her to show him how pathetic she was.

But Siva came between them. Arms raised, he looked at the little girl in terror. "Let's calm down," he said. "We can find a solution."

His intervention seemed to calm the girl, who took a step back. "The only solution is if one of us sleeps on the floor."

“Okay,” Siva replied, obliging her. "I sleep on the floor."

"What?" The little girl frowned. "Why?"

Siva turned his back to Ghost so he could have a better look at her. “Because you said it was the only solution.”

The little girl looked down and backed away. "Fantasmino, you can sleep in the single bed," she said, changing her mind. "And you don't have to sleep on the floor."

Ghost stiffened. He didn't like the way the discussion had taken. Why had she given in as soon as Siva agreed to sleep on the floor? Did she have a soft spot for him? The sympathy and compassion that the little girl had shown him had not escaped him. Nor had it escaped him the determination with which Siva was trying to win her trust.

Whatever was going on between them it didn't please him.

He stared at the single bed, hating what he was about to do. "Kid, the single bed is yours," he announced, turning to go to the bathroom.

"Why?" snapped Siva, taking a step towards Ghost. “The other bed isn't big enough for both of us.”

Ghost studied him carefully, struggling to answer him rudely or ask him why he wanted so desperately to sleep in the same bed as the little girl. "We'll squeeze a little." He reached the bathroom door and, before closing it behind him, declared in a grumpy voice: "Don't stay up late. A busy day awaits us tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Yoo wasn't sure it was a good idea to go down to the hotel bar and get a drink. He had followed the two Americans more out of annoyance than anything else. He hated the idea of a split forming in his team when they could stick together. As a result, he had accepted Whiskey's invitation and went down with them.

The hotel bar they were staying in was gloomy, with heavy dark green curtains covering the windows. Maybe in the daytime and with the curtains wide open, it would look different and not feel like they were in a gangster movie. The lights, emanating from the LEDs above the bar counter and the candles on the tables, were soft and more brown than white. Yoo thought this impression was because brown was the prominent color inside the room.

He drank his Whisky down in one gulp, enjoying the burn of the alcohol in his throat. It wasn't his favorite alcoholic drink, but since they were in Scotland it had seemed right to try it and the bartender, a redheaded woman in her thirties, had been persuasive.

He shifted his gaze to the two men sitting next to him. Their table was square, in the center of the room and they sat occupying different sides and leaving free the one that would have had its back to the door. Whiskey had his eyes focused on observing the other people in the bar. Since it was already night, there were few of them. Yoo heard the laughter of the group of women sitting at a few tables behind him and noticed that Whiskey's gaze had been drawn there. His smirk and the way he looked at them made Yoo uneasy.

They were there for work. They couldn't distract themselves with a night of frivolity. Just being there drinking when a busy morning lay ahead of them the next day wasn't wise.

He placed the glass on the table. "Have you known each other long?"

He kept his eyes down, but he was sure the two Americans had exchanged a look.

"For a while," Spider replied, waving the Brandy in his glass. Yoo didn't miss his amused tone.

“We were in the same battalion years ago,” Whiskey added, stretching his legs under the table.

When Yoo looked up, both of them were staring at him with seriousness and tension. It wasn't exactly a friendly place to be, but he had survived worse situations. "What a nice coincidence to be here, isn't it?" he forced himself to play light and calm.

"Yes," Spider cut him short. He took a sip of his Brandy and held Yoo's gaze. “Because that's what it is. A coincidence.”

A very convenient coincidence for both of them. Yoo couldn't help but wonder if there was something they were keeping from him. For all he knew, those two Americans could be a threat to his target.

Perhaps they had been sent by the man who was stalking her.

"Are you married?" Whiskey asked suddenly, folding his arms over his chest and leaning forward across the table.

Yoo didn't appreciate the change of subject. "I was."

Spider smiled and Yoo wanted to punch him to drive the arrogance from her face. “Let me guess: Did she betray you or did she not accept that you left the army to become a mercenary?”

Yoo stared at the bartender. She was still behind the counter cleaning some glasses. She was an attractive woman, even if she wasn't his type. "The first."

“I know what it feels like,” Whiskey said.

"You also divorced?" Yoo asked him.

"No." It was Whiskey's turn to look away. “But we were about to get married. One day I come home to surprise her and find her with two other men.”

His smile was a mask. Even though it had been some time since that event, Yoo found it clear that he was not really over the betrayal yet.

"Have you never been with anyone since?" Spider asked.

That question made it clear to Yoo that the two didn't know each other all that well.

"Right now," Whiskey said, spreading his arms, "I prefer not to have chains tying me to anyone."

Spider raised his glass and seemed to toast that logic. "Men like us are not meant to have a normal family."

Yoo immediately thought of his daughter.

He had tried to build a family. And he had done everything to keep it solid. He had remained faithful to the first woman he had fallen in love with and had tried to make a future with her. When he had sensed that their family was going to havoc, he had worked hard to prevent it.

But after finding out that his wife had cheated on him with his former best friend, he gave up everything. He had left home, ignoring his daughter's tears, and hadn't returned for two years.

The moment he set foot back in South Korea, he discovered that his wife and his ex-friend had moved in together and didn't want him there.

"Do you have any children?" he asked Spider.

"Two," he said, setting his empty glass down on the table. “A ten-year-old boy and an eight-year-old girl.”

Yoo looked at his olive hands. There was no ring. He remembered that Americans didn't always wait until they were married to have children.

Sensing the direction of his thoughts, Spider waved the fingers of his left hand. "We separated when I became a mercenary."

"Were you also cheated on?" Whiskey asked him.

"Nope," he laughed. “She would never have done that. But she didn't support my choice. I was betraying the country that took me in or whatever.”

Yoo had no way of confirming it, but something about the way Spider had laughed and talked about the mother of his children gave him the impression that he was the one who had been sleeping with other people.

"Does she at least let you see them?" Yoo asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Of course," he replied immediately. “Even if she tried to stop me, I wouldn't let her. Nothing can stop me from being a part of their life.”

"You'll make them happy when you come home from this job," Whiskey said.

Spider relaxed back in his chair. “When I'm going to take home our tidy sum? Sure. I will spoil them as our girl was spoiled.”

Yoo shook his head. "I don't think she's been spoiled."

Spider frowned. “Clearly, she's used to getting whatever she wants. Her parents must not have punished her enough when she was little."

Whiskey touched his mustache. “I agree with Yoo on that.” Spider looked at him outraged. "I too was of the same opinion as you at the beginning. But you also saw how she shut down as soon as she heard that nickname. We are missing some important pieces to understand her."

Yoo rested his elbows on the table and cupped his chin in one hand. "To me, more than spoiled, she seems angry."

And sad. Especially sad.

"She's twenty and yet she acts like my eight-year-old," Spider said. “Someone has to teach her some respect.”

"You want to do it yourself?" Whiskey asked him, looking at the other American mischievously.

Spider licked his lips. "I wish I could," he said back with the same energy.

Yoo balled his hands into fists. "No one can touch her," he reminded those two men.

Spider rolled his eyes. "We know."

Whiskey tapped the table with the fingers of one hand. This conversation seemed to amuse him. "We should go back to our room and go to sleep."

There were no objections.

Yoo struggled to fall asleep. His mind was peppered with questions and doubts that he couldn't find a solution to. He fell asleep only after three in the morning and was awakened by thuds against their door.

Immediately he and the two Americans went on the defensive. Yoo reached across the bedside table, reaching for a gun that wasn't there. When he found nothing and remembered that they didn't have any weapons with them, he cursed himself under his breath.

Whiskey was the fastest to reach the door. Before opening it, he looked through the peephole. His shoulders relaxed suddenly.

"Who is there?" Spider asked him in a low voice, approaching him from behind.

“Ghost and the kid,” he said, turning the handle.

Without even waiting for the door to be fully opened, the two rushed into the room and Ghost slammed the door shut.

"What is going on?" snapped Spider, looking at them.

The girl opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

It took Yoo a moment to figure out why she was blushing. He looked wearily at the two Americans who had gone to sleep wearing only their underpants.

Whiskey snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. Their target blinked and looked down.

"We were sleeping," she explained. “And suddenly the room phone started ringing…”

Ghost (Yoo wondered if he had gone to bed wearing a balaclava) interrupted her: "Artemide is waiting for us in the hotel parking lot."

"Artemide? Again?" Spider asked, amazed by that information. "What do they want?"

The target shrugged her shoulders and hands. "One of us should go find out."

Ghost put a hand into her hair, holding her still. "Not you." Her hand remained glued to her head as if he wasn't even aware of her attempts to pull it away from him.

Whiskey put his hands on his hips. "What time is it?"

Yoo looked down at his watch. "Seven forty."

Spider rubbed his eyes. "Let's hurry."

Ghost nodded and pulled their target towards the door, ignoring her obvious insults in Italian. He opened the door and took her away.

Reluctantly, Yoo readied himself. In less than ten minutes, he and the Americans had reached the hotel entrance.

Welcoming them outside was a light rain and a gray sky. Yoo shrugged, hating not having brought along a heavy jacket.

"Before we leave we need to buy some more suitable clothes for the weather," Spider said, shrugging.

"I agree," Whiskey answered, looking around for whoever had called them out there. "Where are they? Do you see anyone?”

Spider's expression changed to anger. "Yes."

Yoo and Whiskey followed his gaze, finding that he was staring at the same pudgy man who had met them at the airport.

Yoo remembered Diana's sad, frightened face.

"Let's great our guest," Whiskey said, glaring coldly at the man.

The three walked as a compact unit, crossing the parking lot and not feeling the weight of the water that was wetting their clothes.

The pudgy man waved at them. "Sorry to disturb you," he said, smiling sheepishly. “Yesterday I forgot to give you some essential things.”

The three men stopped in front of him, staring at him carefully. Behind the pudgy man (they should have asked his name, but Yoo honestly didn't care to know), was a small, white car.

The man walked over to the trunk, opened it, and showed them what was inside.

Spider approached him from behind and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked, using a controlled tone. Yoo knew right away that he didn't mean well and from the pudgy man's wide eyes, he seemed to have guessed it too.

"Sure," he said shakily. He reached out to take one of the two bags present.

"What did you call her?"

The man froze. His grip loosened and the bag fell to the ground near his feet.

"Careful, you could have hurt yourself." Whiskey walked over and picked up the bag, which he quickly opened to examine its contents.

"Who?" the man asked, looking at the three mercenaries. The terror on his face was impossible to hide.

Yoo stepped forward, giving him a polite smile. "Diana. What did you call her?"

He had tried to understand that name, to remember it, but not even after a few minutes he had forgotten it. He was sure it started with a T.

The man gulped and it seemed that Yoo's calm demeanor was soothing him. “I didn't know she didn't…” He swallowed again. Without saying anything else, he took the second bag, much heavier than the previous one, and pushed it against Spider. “Here you have everything you need for the mission. When you have found what the girl is looking for, contact Artemide and she will explain the next steps."

He closed the trunk and started to leave.

Yoo put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "What's the hurry?"

"Yeah," Spider added, setting the bag down with a thud. "We just want to talk."

The man looked frightened from Yoo to Spider. "I've completed my task," he advised. "I have no reason to stay here."

Whiskey raised his chin and took a step towards him. "Why did you call her that?"

“I…” He backed up until he collided with his car.

"I hope you won't lie to us," Spider said, looking at him hard. Yoo was not surprised that the man was about to pee himself. "I don't think you'd like to find out what happens if you lie to us."

"Because that's what she is!"

"What does it mean?" Yoo wanted to know.

The man's lip trembled. “I was told not to talk about it.”

"Who asked you that?"

"And why?" Whiskey added, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because it's better for you if you don't know yet."

"What the fuck does that mean?" snapped Spider.

The man shook his head. “I talked too much,” he whimpered. “I shouldn't have said that word. Tell her I'm sorry." He tried to reach the main door.

Yoo hated that situation.

Unable to control himself anymore, he squeezed the man's shoulder, holding him still, and hit him in the face with a punch aimed at the cheek. The man made a pathetic noise and slumped against the car.

Yoo stared down at him, and when Whiskey stepped forward, he was sure the two Americans would scold him for his outburst. But Whiskey didn't.

He crouched on the ground, aligning his face with that of the man, who had begun to tremble in fear. "We won't force you to talk," he said peacefully as if there was no problem and the situation had already been resolved. “I swear to you, though, that if we see you again, if you dare so much as approach our girl, we will make sure you no longer have to fear talking too much.”

Yoo wasn't sure if he was implying they were going to kill him or just cut out his tongue. He would have been satisfied in both cases.

Whiskey smoothed the folds of the man's collar, smiling amiably at him. "Have I been clear?"

The man nodded.

Spider kicked him on the thigh. "We haven't heard your answer."

The man stared at him with bloodshot eyes and Yoo almost felt pity for him. He remembered that he had put himself in that position, first when he made their target cry and then by not answering their questions.

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy," Whiskey said sneeringly. He stood up and grabbed the bag he had left on the floor.

They walked away from the man still sitting, without greeting him or checking how he was. They went back to their room and none of them said a word about what had just happened.

Chapter Text

Oscar was awakened by a blow on the arm. He snapped awake and was taken away from a strange dream. In the seconds it took for him to process where he was and what he was doing he had forgotten the woman who had appeared in his dream.

"We're there," Whiskey advised.

Oscar blinked until the world returned clear and in focus. “How long did it take us to get here?” he asked, getting out of the car. For that trip he had sat beside the wheel, promising that he would stay awake, but in the end, he had ended up giving in to sleep.

“A lot,” Whiskey said, walking to the trunk.

Oscar passed next to the girl. From her still heavy lids, he thought she too had fallen asleep and was less ashamed of himself.

Ghost opened the door and reached for one of the bags the pudgy man had given them that morning.

The anger that Oscar had felt seeing him hadn't completely diminished yet. They should have done more than punch him in the face and scare him. He had made their protegee uncomfortable and he deserved to suffer the consequences. He hoped he never had to see his ugly pink face again.

Ghost armed first and stepped away to give space for the others to do the same.

Spider grabbed a gun and enjoyed its weight in his hand. It was a feeling he had missed. As soon as he holstered it, he finally felt safe. Having it close at hand gave him a peace he couldn't explain. With that, it would have been easier to protect the girl.

He finished getting ready, putting on the heavy jacket that had been handed to him. That morning, when they had opened the two bags, he had been surprised to find winter clothes suitable for the weather in the north of Scotland. In addition to guns and military knives, they had also received sleeping bags. That meant the lieutenant expected them to be out late into the night. He hoped that wouldn't happen.

Oscar stepped back from the car to see where they were.

They had stopped in an isolated clearing surrounded by trees on all sides except for the narrow paved road from which they had come. The trees were very tall and slender, with branches appearing more towards the top. The forest seemed to go on for miles and miles.

He felt a little discouraged at the idea of going into that ghostly forest. He still remembered too well what happened the last time he went into the woods on a mission.

The faces of his dead comrades and their cries paralyzed him for a few minutes. He felt his heart start to race and his eyelids stop beating.

He would not allow such an event to happen again.

"Hey, are you still sleeping?" Whiskey nudged him.

Oscar clung to his voice and his smiling face to anchor herself in the present. "I'm not old enough to party late," he joked, masking his agitation.

"How do you put this thing?" The girl studied the flak jacket with a confused expression. It was the only one they had found inside the bags and it had seemed obvious that she was the one meant to have it.

Whiskey crossed his arms and watched her amused. "Let the two fathers of the group help you put it."

The girl looked confused by his joke.

Oscar punched Whiskey on the shoulder, who laughed. "Don't be an asshole."

"Why not? You know how to change a diaper, you can help her put it on.”

Yoo snorted loudly and approached the girl, extending his hands to make her understand that she had to give him the jacket. "It's easy to wear," he said.

Oscar took a step forward. "Raise your arms," he ordered, and she complied. She too was wearing the dark pants they had been given, but her jacket was waiting in the trunk.

While Yoo took care of blocking the jacket from her front, Oscar stood behind her, making sure that it fit her well. “How do you feel about it? Tough?"

"No, it's fine," she replied.

"Done," said Yoo, tightening the last lace. "Put on your jacket."

The girl, still standing between their bodies, bent down to reach for her jacket. Her b-side pressed against Oscar who immediately took a step back. He didn't need to start that hike with a hard-on.

He watched as Yoo helped the girl zip up her jacket and hide the bullet-proof one. Though her pants and jacket were in her size, they were weird on her. They seemed to come from two opposite worlds that were never meant to meet.

"Are we ready?" Whiskey asked, looking at his companions.

Everyone pulled away from the car and nodded. Whiskey locked the trunk and used the automatic key to lock the doors.

"Come here," he ordered, stepping back. He stopped in a spot large enough for all of them to squat on the ground and study the map he had placed on the dirt. "We are here," he pointed to the beginning of the forest. "And we have to get here," he pointed at the red circle he had drawn in the thick vegetation. Oscar noticed that they were in the mountains and very far from civilization. “We have a compass and the kid... Diana's phone.” She glared at him, but Whiskey ignored her and took a compass from one of his trouser pockets. "In theory, it shouldn't take us more than two hours to reach our destination."

“What exactly are we looking for?” Siva asked.

An excellent question.

All eyes turned to the girl, who was staring at the map. "How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

"Excuse me?" Yoo snapped, using an overly composed and gentle tone.

Whiskey rubbed his moustache. "What do you mean you don't know?"

The girl scratched her arms uneasily. "I don't know. Really."

Oscar got to his feet, sure that by night he would go mad. “Are you telling us you don't know what you're looking for? What the fuck are we doing here, then?”

The girl pulled up to face him, annoyed. “It's not that simple, okay? I was told to get to these coordinates. And that's it.”

Ghost came closer to her from behind. “Are you part of a cult? Is this an initiation?”

"What? No!" she immediately replied, waving her hands to reiterate the concept.

"Then why did we come all the way here?" snapped Whiskey, looking at her sternly.

“Because you were paid to protect me and get me where I need to go. And I have to go here,” she said, reaching down for the map and slamming it into Whiskey's chest.

The older man grabbed her wrist and stopped her from walking away. "We haven't been paid yet, Diana," he said her name so coldly that even Oscar's skin crawled.

The girl looked away. She tried to break free of his grip, but he held her hand steady. "You can leave and abandon the mission, for all I care."

Whiskey tightened his grip on her wrist and locked his jaw. Oscar understood from the intensity of his gaze that he too was close to losing control and decided to intervene.

"We will not abandon the mission," he said, grabbing Whiskey's wrist. He squeezed just enough to let him know that he couldn't let her drive him crazy. "But now is the right time to give us any information that might prove essential."

If there was something he had understood about Diana Chiara Spina it was that to reason with her they had to use a calm, understanding and direct tone. Treating her as an equal and as an adult brought her peg down.

The girl bit her thumbnail and took a step back. “I'm not part of a cult,” she said, glancing at Ghost. “And these coordinates are all that was handed to me. Seriously, I'm groping in the dark too."

"Who gave them to you?" Yoo asked.

"I can't tell you."

Oscar had to take a few steps away from her. Placing his hands on his hips, he sighed and his gaze found the grey sky. "So you're sending us into a forest for a meaningless hike?"

When he met her gaze, she seemed at a loss for words.

"Well," said Siva, entering the conversation and partially covering the girl's body with his own. "Why don't we hit the road and see what happens?"

"Are there aliens involved?" Ghost suddenly asked.

Oscar burst out laughing. Great. That situation was degenerating.

"No…" she murmured, moving away from him. "There are no aliens in this story."

Oscar stared at her, confused. Why was instinct telling him it was a lie?

Siva looked at the girl with wide and terrified eyes.

"The demon here is right," she said, taking a few steps toward the forest. “We have to go inside. When we reach the coordinates we can panic and argue.”

"What did you call me?" Siva asked her, still looking at her as if she were some terrifying creature.

The girl narrowed her eyes. "Demon," she replied. "Because your name is Siva, like one of the demons of Hinduism?" She stopped to think, and her expression went from confident to sceptical. "No, wait. I'm getting confused." She reached out and stared wide-eyed. “Siva is a deity, right? To be honest, I don't know much about Hinduism. The temples are beautiful, though. I'd love to see one, one day."

Whiskey snapped his fingers to regain her concentration. "Why don't we stop wasting time and get going?"

The girl raised her hands, showing them her palms. “Okay, okay, I'll shut up,” she whispered, turning and starting to walk into the forest.

In just a few strides, Whiskey and Yoo overtook her and positioned themselves in the front, while Siva and Ghost occupied either side of her, Oscar found himself staring at her back.

For the first half hour, which to Oscar seemed eternal, they walked in silence.

The further into the forest they went, the more difficult it was to find a path to follow through the densely packed trees. They had to line up in single file, being careful where to put their feet.

The sky above their heads was a much darker grey than it had been when they entered, and Oscar feared it would rain again.

What he found strange was not being able to see and hear any animals.

The forest seemed uninhabited.

"Do you hear it?" the girl asked, breaking the silent concentration in which everyone had fallen.

"What?" three different voices asked her, including Oscar's.

"A call," she said, stopping. Her enchanted gaze was aimed at the tops of the trees. "As if the forest were alive and guiding us."

Oscar closed his eyes and cursed in his mind. It was official: they were following a crazy woman.

"Yes…" Shiva murmured, getting glares from all the other men, which he didn't seem to notice. His lips parted in a genuine smile. "The forest is trying to communicate with us." Then, in an even lower voice: "Like it does when I'm at home."

"Do you find this amusing?" Oscar snapped, pushing Ghost to step aside to reach the two mad people. "If this is a joke, stop right now."

The girl looked at him with a hurt expression. "Why would I be joking?"

"I don't know, you tell me," he replied. “First you take us to a forest, away from everything and everyone, telling us that we have to walk in search of God knows what, and then you start saying that the trees are talking to you?”

The girl clenched her fists. “I know that sounds bad.”

"You look out of your mind," Ghost told her, joining Oscar.

"I know!" she yelled. “But I can't help it. I would like you to feel what it's like to be in my head for a minute! Then you'd go crazy too!" She concluded with a curse in Italian.

"We should listen to the forest," Siva suggested, still gazing in admiration at the surrounding trees. “It wants to help you, Diana. It knows what you're looking for."

"We won't listen to the forest," Whiskey objected, resuming his stride. "We continue to the coordinates as planned."

Yoo followed without arguing and Oscar pushed Siva and the girl forward, ignoring their disapproving comments.

They walked for another half hour, continuing straight towards the centre of the forest. The deeper they went, the more the silence around them became heavy and the sky dark.

A silent forest was not a good sign.

They continued until they reached an area where the trees created a small bare circle. Whiskey told them they would stop for a few minutes to rest and then resume.

Ghost took off one of the two backpacks they had decided to take from his shoulders. He set it down and passed the bottles of water to everyone. The girl drank voraciously, sliding many drops on her chin which she then wiped away with satisfaction.

"Are you tired?" Yoo asked, watching her closely.

"Actually, I feel good," she replied, smiling. "I think I can do a few more hours of walking."

Oscar would have liked to say the same. His body was behaving as if he had been walking for days. He put his hands on his hips and took deep breaths. If he closed his eyes for a few seconds too long, he was sure he would fall asleep.

“What time is it, anyway?” the girl asked. "I feel like I've been here for years."

Yoo looked down at his watch. He frowned and opened his mouth to say something, closed it and licked his lips.

"What's up?" Oscar urged him.

"It says it's ten p.m., but that doesn't make sense." He put his wrist out and everyone came over to him to confirm what he had said.

"My watch says ten too," Whiskey said with a hint of alarm in his voice.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Oscar snapped, looking at them with frightened eyes.

Was it possible that they had been in the forest all those hours without realizing it? It seemed impossible to him, but at least it could explain the tiredness he was feeling.

"Magic," Siva murmured unsurely.

"What did you just say?" Whiskey asked, leaning towards him with an expression that said: “Dare to repeat that and I'll shoot you in the head”.

Siva nodded. "It's the only explanation," he said, looking at him with eyes that seemed crazy.

"Yes, but why?" the girl wondered, gazing up at the black sky.

Oscar tried to remember if they had seen the sunset, but the sky had only seemed to go from grey to black.

“First aliens and now magic?” Ghost interjected, eyeing Siva and the girl in disappointment.

The girl rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear him. "I think we should camp here for the night and pick up again tomorrow."

"Why?" Yoo asked. His gaze was moving from one point to another, showing how uncomfortable he felt.

"Because you need to sleep," she concluded, sitting down on the floor.

"And you don't?" Ghost asked, walking to a stop behind her.

The girl cocked her neck back to get a better look at him and her head slammed into Ghost's knees. "I told you, I'm not tired."

Oscar rubbed his eyes and walked over to Yoo and Whiskey. “I think she's right,” he said in a weary voice. "Let's stop for a moment, organize ourselves and then resume."

Yoo glanced at the girl, who returned it without blinking. Had she always been this creepy?

"All right," Whiskey said, sitting down.

Ghost dropped to the ground next to the girl, hitting the green soil with his butt. Sitting between him and Shiva, the girl looked like a child.

“Shall we light a bonfire and sing a song like they do in movies?” he asked them, chuckling at her joke.

"We don't need a fire," Whiksey said, taking her seriously.

“What a pity…” Her smile didn't waver.

Their bodies formed a messy circle. Ghost passed each of them the food they had packed for the trip: mostly sandwiches and dark chocolate bars. They ate in silence, all lost in thought.

"How far to our destination?" Yoo asked, crumpling up the handkerchief he had used.

“My phone went off on its own a while ago,” the girl replied, reaching up to stretch her arms.

"What?"

"When?"

"Tell me you're kidding..."

The angry shouts and curses of the men around her didn't seem to scratch her. "That was because you didn't listen to me," she said calmly.

"Because we didn't let you follow the voice of the forest?" Oscar asked her, unable to believe what he was hearing.

The girl nodded. "And now we're lost because Whiskey's compass stopped pointing north hours ago." Her amused gaze found the older man's. "Right?"

Whiskey stared at her without saying anything. As much as he was trying to remain impassive, Oscar recognized his clenched jaw and the strength with which he was squeezing the wrist of his left hand.

"But he kept it from us because he didn't know how to tell us that his compass had gone crazy, starting to spin without stopping," she continued to explain.

Yoo reached out to Whiskey. "Show us," he ordered.

Still refusing to say anything, Whiskey took the compass he had pocketed and handed it to Yoo. From the way he looked at the girl, Oscar was surprised that she wasn't shaking in fear.

Yoo held the compass so the others could see it circle without stopping.

"How is it possible?" Oscar asked, tapping the glass surface.

"It shouldn't be, unless we're at the poles," Whiskey replied, looking away from the girl for a moment.

"How did you know that?" Ghost had his legs bent up and his head turned to look at the girl. "And why didn't you tell us?"

"Because you didn't listen to me," she repeated offendedly. "Now we're all paying the consequences."

If it hadn't been for the million dollars, Oscar would have reached out to kill her with his own hands.

"The forest told her," Siva added. His gaze was focused on the treetops.

"Again with this?" Oscar said, exasperated. "If anyone says something like that again, I'll shoot them in the head."

The girl clicked her tongue.

"What?" snapped Oscar.

“I find your resorting to violence at the slightest problem disgusting.” Then, more softly: "That's why men shouldn't be allowed to have a gun. Fucking American military men.”

Oscar could no longer stay there. He leapt to his feet and, putting his hands behind his head, walked as fast as he could. He had to get away from there or he would become a worse threat than the man who was after her.

Chapter Text

Pedro wondered if it was worth it. Would he resist for another two months to get the million? He was no longer sure.

He looked at the kid, forcing himself with all the strength he had in his body not to get up to slap or shake her.

Not only had she humiliated him in front of his team, she had even dared to make fun of them all. Because of her childish behavior, they found themselves in an isolated and lost forest. They had no way of orienting themselves and had just lost, somehow, an entire day.

He wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but even he was beginning to suspect that the forest held magic. It was the only explanation he could come up with for what was happening.

Perhaps he should have screwed it up and allowed the kid to follow the nature's voice. Even if that road had led to her death, Pedro would not feel guilty.

Every choice has consequences, right?

Picturing the kid dead made him feel better.

"You always have an opinion on everything, don't you?" he commented. His lips relaxed in a not-at-all-reassuring grin.

The kid stared at him for a few seconds without saying anything. “Like everyone else.”

Pedro tilted his head forward. “Not everyone expresses it so arrogantly.”

“Is it arrogance, or you just can't accept that I might be right?”

Yoo sighed and opened one of the two bags looking for a sleeping bag. “We should go to sleep. Tomorrow, when we're all calmer, we can look for a path and start walking again." His gaze sought those of the others, and Pedro felt a grudge against him. He was the team captain, not Yoo.

He swallowed his pride and ordered himself to calm down. “Yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “We can take turns tonight. I'll start, and I'll wake up one of you in two hours."

There were no objections. One by one they took their sleeping bags and settled down for the night. The kid lay down too, curling her legs up to her chest like a ball.

Pedro kept his attention on hers, watching her chest rise rhythmically. Had she always acted this way? Or had there been a time when she had been a good child who listened to adults?

Initially, he had read sadness and anger inside her, but the more time he spent with Diana, the more he began to fear that he was wrong about her. In any case, he couldn't justify her behavior.

She was putting everyone in danger with her irresponsibility.

Pedro didn't even expect much from her. Just a little more respect silence, and trust. Above all, trust.

As long as she didn't trust them, the situation would never change.

What had happened to her to make her hate men so much?

His mind reminded him of the Threat and a pang of shame shot through his stomach. He had to look away and let the shame wash over him.

She was still a young woman who had just come of age. Pedro had been a man for decades. Between the two, he was the real adult.

He should have stayed calm and tried to reason with her. Perhaps gaining her trust would take a long time, but Pedro's instincts told him it would be worth it in the end.

He ran a hand over his face, pulling at his muscles.

He too was exhausted and couldn't wait to silence those thoughts with some restorative sleep.

He heard footsteps behind him and immediately became defensive. His right hand went to the holster in which he held the gun. He strained his eyes and studied the trees, looking for whoever was approaching.

He calmed down only when he saw that it was Spider. "Everything OK?" he asked, watching his companion approach.

He respected his choice to leave before doing something irreparable.

Spider bent down to pick up the last remaining sleeping bag. "Yes." His tone was still hard and his expression frowning. He, too, needed a night's sleep to banish the emotions.

“Try to sleep,” he told him, patting his shoulder. "I'll take the first shift."

Spider nodded. He unfolded the sleeping bag and went inside.

Pedro returned his gaze to the kid, still lying in the position in which he had last seen her.

"Did you feel it too?" Spider asked.

His gaze was fixed on the night above their heads and his arms were locked behind his neck.

"What?"

Pedro shifted his gaze to the forest. It was gloomy and claustrophobic, with thick, narrow trees. When they had entered, it had seemed to him that he had entered a suffocating labyrinth. He hoped no dangerous animals were lurking. With the tiredness making his eyelids heavy, he wasn't sure he would pick up on the cues before an attack.

"The Call."

Pedro smiled. “You heard it too, then?”

"No," Spider said, frowning.

"So?"

Spider leaned on his elbows to pull himself up a bit. "I don't like this place," he admitted softly, not meeting his gaze. Pedro found his whispering useless, since they were speaking in Spanish as they did whenever they were alone. "There is something strange here. Maybe it's best if we leave tomorrow."

"Do you want to give up the mission and the money?"

"That's not what I meant."

Pedro raised his eyebrows and waited for him to explain further.

“I'm just saying we shouldn't stay too long here or we risk getting lost forever. Perhaps she can get another coordinate that is easier to reach.”

"We'll see," Pedro said, sighing.

Spider lay down again.

An eerie silence fell in the forest and a shiver went through Pedro. He shook his head to stop his mind from reminding him of the horror stories his grandmother always told him as a child. But the stern face of the woman pushed through his sleepy mind.

“When you're in the woods, if you hear someone calling, never answer,” she warned him. "You didn't hear it, understand?"

His grandmother believed in the existence of evil spirits who were out to harm human beings. As a child, Pedro listened to all her stories with terror, blindly believing them. She was his grandmother, why would she lie? She was older, she had already lived a long time and knew. While he still had to learn.

He wondered what she would think if she saw him now. Would she be proud of the person he had become?

Pedro doubted it.

His grandmother would have seen the blood staining his hands and felt terrified.

Spirits weren't real, Pedro had understood it growing up, and men were the cruel creatures he had to be wary of. So, when he heard the forest call his name, Pedro smiled. It wasn't real. It was all in his head.

A movement in front of him caught his attention. The kid sat up, shrugging her shoulders with a pained expression. "You can't sleep?" he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the others.

The kid shook her head. "I can't sleep on the floor."

"You'll get used to it."

She sat up with her legs bent and rested her chin on her knees.

"Do you want to talk a little bit'? Maybe I can bore you enough to make you sleepy” he asked, realizing that she wasn't going to lay back.

The little girl cracked a smile. Pedro thought she was prettier when she genuinely smiled. "Will you tell me a bedtime story?"

Pedro raised his eyebrows. Was the kid trying to flirt with him?

“No,” he said, giving her his brightest smile, which usually always worked. “I can tell you a horror story if you want.”

"Horror story?"

"Take it or leave it."

"Okay," she giggled. "Tell me a story. The scariest one you know."

Pedro cocked his head to one side. He didn't mind that turn of events. "You won't be afraid?"

The kid fluttered her eyelashes slowly. “I am no longer a child, Pedrito.”

That nickname sent a jolt of desire up Pedro's pants, and he bit the inside of his cheeks to ignore the reaction of his body. "You're playing with fire, Nena."

The kid rolled her eyes. Pedro wanted to get up to grab her face and force her to hold them on him. He clenched his fists to hold back.

"Tell your story," she said, bringing the conversation back to safe ground.

“Do you like horror stories?” he asked, almost enjoying the calm atmosphere that reigned around them. As annoying as he found the kid, he was still interested in unraveling her mysteries.

“Sometimes,” she said, looking down. “I hated them as a kid.” The memory seemed to make her happy. “My older brother enjoyed telling them to me, knowing they would scare me. I used to start crying and run away from him, going to hide to our parents, who scolded him. But he always came back to me with a new story. And the cycle repeated itself over and over again.” She bit his lower lip, stopping the flow of thoughts.

"How old is your brother?"

“Twenty-five, four more than me. My sister, on the other hand, is twenty-three.” It was clear that thinking about them made her suffer. "Do you have siblings?"

"Two sisters and a brother," Pedro answered. He hadn't seen them for a long time and he too, like her, thought of them with nostalgia and pain. "Do they know what you're doing?"

He didn't expect her to answer.

The kid observed her hands illuminated by the little light emanating from the full moon. "More or less."

"More or less?"

The kid snorted. “Well, they know they can't look for me. But, knowing them, I doubt they'll listen to me. Especially that idiot of my brother.”

Pedro tried to make sense of the information he had just received. What he found seemed to disprove the theory that her father had pushed her away to protect her from someone who was threatening him. Because if that were the case, he would have had to send his other children away as well.

He found himself thinking that it was more likely that the child had been sent by someone on a personal mission, one that his family didn't approve of. Maybe the man who was looking for her had been sent by someone else to stop her.

His head was invaded by a thousand other questions and doubts. Pedro understood that it would have been useless to give them a voice, he would only ruin that moment and the kid would again raise the wall that she had built around herself.

“You must be very lonely,” he told her, using empathy as a weapon.

The kid bit the side of her lip, this time making eye contact. “I can't feel lonely having you around. You are so nice and kind to me that I feel like I'm on a trip with friends."

Pedro pursed his lips, refraining from bursting out laughing.

“You served it on a silver platter,” she added, smiling proudly.

"I did," he admitted.

The kid's smile seemed to reach her eyes and for a second Pedro could see what her face was supposed to be like. No longer sad and angry, but happy and carefree.

It had taken so little to achieve that result. He had succeeded by chance.

Pedro promised himself that he would try to make her smile more often.

“So, this story?” she urged him.

"How impatient of you…"

“We don't have all night,” she pointed out.

"Why don't you come a little closer? So I can speak in a low voice without risking waking the others" he suggested, opening his legs in an invitation to join him.

The kid's eyes widened and her cheeks colored with embarrassment. “I think I'll stay here,” she murmured, looking away.

Pedro closed his legs, trying to hide the bulge in his pants. Usually, he looked for more enterprising women, so he had no excuse for feeling so excited when faced with her embarrassment.

That was very unprofessional of him.

“Do you know la Llorona?”

The question allowed him to regain the kid's gaze. "Of course. I know there are different versions."

Pedro nodded. "My grandmother said that she was a woman who fell in love with a Spaniard with whom she had two children. La Llorona initially loved them very much, also because they allowed her to hold on to the man she loved. But the more they grew, the more her jealousy rose." He stopped to catch his breath. “Her husband paid more attention to them than to her.”

“And she killed them,” whispered the kid. Her eyes, wide and motionless, were fixed on Pedro.

"She threw them into a river."

"Her husband found out and took revenge on her, killing her," she concluded, smiling bitterly. "Yet another femicide."

“Can you blame him? She took away the children she loved."

“I don't know,” she confessed, clutching her arms around her chest. “I think they were both wrong.”

Pedro didn't know how to reply.

"But if she hated them so much, why does she wander around looking for them now? Do you think she regretted killing them?"

It was a question he had never asked himself. "Perhaps…"

"Maybe after her death, she realized her mistake and that her children were the only ones who really loved her" the kid reflected, taking him by surprise. "But she can't find them and her ghost can't reach where they are. She therefore sees other people's children and tries to take them for herself, taking them away from other parents."

"Yes…"

It wasn't the kind of conversation to have in the middle of a spooky forest with night darkening every corner.

The kid looked down, smiling embarrassed. “Sorry, I ruined your story.”

"You didn't ruin it."

“I made it depressing instead of scary.”

“Given the context we're in, maybe it's for the best,” he said, hoping to delay the return of her sadness. “Want to hear another story?”

"No, I think that's okay for tonight."

Pedro nodded. “You should try to sleep.”

"I'm not sleepy."

The kid looked him straight in the eyes and it seemed to him that she had a haunted look. The same that she had had when she had said, a few hours earlier, that she heard the call of the forest.

"But you do, right?"

The kid cocked her head to the side. She wasn't blinking.

Yes, Pedro was very sleepy.

"Why don't you try closing your eyes for a moment?" she insisted.

Pedro's lids were heavy and slow. Suddenly, he felt a weariness that was impossible to fight.

"What are you doing?" he slurred.

The world blurred and he could no longer focus on the kid's face.

“I'm not doing anything,” her voice was soporific, a lullaby that was sapping his strength.

Sleep. The forest was cradling him gently, using the same gentle tone his grandmother had when he was little.

"Diana," he said her name in a frightened voice, even though he tried to make it sound like a warning. "Don't go off alone."

“We are not in danger. Everything will be fine," the kid promised. “You can sleep. When you'll open your eyes again, I'll be here."

It was impossible for Pedro to keep fighting sleep.

He gave in.

He closed his lids and fell backward.

Chapter Text

Siva didn't get up immediately.

He remained with his cheek pressed against his hand, which he was using as a prop, and his eyes closed. His other senses were on high alert. As soon as Diana disappeared into the trees, he would get up and follow her, making sure to stay hidden.

Like Diana, Siva was not sleepy. He lay down anyway to try to get remarried and because he hoped he could hear something interesting while the others thought he was asleep. He wouldn't have called Diana and Whiskey's conversation interesting. Still, he had stood listening to every word, ignoring the annoyance he had felt at recognizing that he was hitting on his prey.

It wasn't a game!

Those men were doing nothing but treating Diana as if she were an object they wanted to get rid of quickly. They had no right to flirt with her.

Siva had ignored his emotions and remained listening, waiting for the best moment to reveal he was still awake.

Having his eyes closed, he couldn't understand what was happening. From what he had heard, it seemed that Diana was using some kind of magic on Whiskey to put him to sleep. Siva concentrated on feeling the flow of the girl's blood, but her pulse was normal as if she was doing nothing.

Siva turned to one side and dared to open one eye. Diana was gone.

Quickly, he pulled himself up. He looked at the other men, they were still asleep in a sprawling and incomplete circle. He felt some guilt at leaving them there defenseless.

He bit his lip, remembering what his mission was, and started walking.

He hadn't lied when he had said he heard the voice of the forest. It was a softer call than he was used to when he wandered into the forests of his world. There, nature was luxuriant, still in control, and her voice rang in the ears of those who crossed it.

Siva.

The forest was just saying his name and guiding him in the direction she wanted.

Siva complied, walking carefully to avoid being heard or seen by his prey. After a few minutes, he was able to spot her moving lightly among the thin trunks of the trees. Siva slowed down and ducked to better immerse himself in the vegetation.

With each step, her voice grew louder.

Siva sensed the change before he could feel it with his senses. His skin crawled and he kept moving as he watched in wonder as the forest changed before his eyes. The sky became a clear, light blue, with no clouds to cover it. Siva moved among thicker and taller trees, with dark green moss covering much of their bark. The smell of grass and wood filled his nostrils, and Siva enjoyed the familiar scent.

Even though he couldn't see where Diana was, he knew he was headed in the right direction.

Some butterflies flew in front of his eyes, welcoming him with wings of iridescent colors that were creating strange and beautiful designs. Siva held out a palm to the sky, offering the butterflies some rest. When they both pressed their limbs on his hand, Siva felt happiness filling his lungs with air.

Siva.

"I'm coming," he answered, going back to walk.

The butterflies flew back and followed him.

Siva listened to the forest, letting her guide him with her gentle voice. In the background, he thought he heard the flow of a stream. He strained his ears and veered towards the sound until he found what he was looking for.

Holding the water to his right, he kept walking.

The forest around him was alive. Siva was able to see the animals that lived there. Nobody was afraid of him. He smiled at the family of rabbits who followed him. He wanted to stop and pet them, but he couldn't get distracted.

He had to find Diana.

Why was the forest calling them? And why hadn't the others heard her voice?

Siva couldn't wait to find the answer to his questions.

After a few minutes, he had to take off his jacket because it was too hot.

Gazing up at the treetops, Siva recognized within seconds that they had just passed through a portal that had allowed them to enter another world.

His journey to Earth had been similar, but the connection between their worlds was more fragile and turbulent. For long minutes, Siva seemed to wander in the void of the universe. From one moment to the next, he had found himself in an unknown territory that the Earthlings called Libya. It had taken him a month to get used to this new world and create a plan.

Siva was still amazed that it had worked and that no one had yet discovered that he wasn't an Indian man named Sahen Arun. He was sure, however, that he was treading on delicate ground, which he could break at any moment. All he had to do was talk too much and the others would find out.

His hearing alerted him to the presence of a waterfall a few meters in front of him. Siva quickened his pace, eager to catch up with it.

The trees opened onto a pond less than five meters wide. The water cascaded into the lake from eight meters above Siva's head, and he bent his neck to admire the beauty of nature.

When he was little, his father had often taken him to a similar waterfall in their world. It was there that Siva had learned to control one of his two powers.

He remained still for only a few minutes.

The forest invited him to continue, walking along the rocky terrain surrounding the pond. Siva found himself placing one foot at a time and holding onto the wall to his left.

He continued until he went around the waterfall jet and entered a hidden cave.

"Hello!" Diana's voice drifted to him.

Siva pressed his body against the cave walls. His heart began to race with agitation.

"I'm here!" insisted his prey.

Siva couldn't see her, so he guessed that she had to be further ahead, around the bend in the cave. He walked with a slow, calculated step, crouching down.

He followed the voice until he caught sight of her.

Diana was whirling around, looking for something special in that cave. "You led me here," she complained, taking it out on the forest, whose voice had gone inaudible. "Could you at least give me an answer?"

A thud made them both jump.

Their gazes rested on the rock face, which they stared in surprise. The rocks moved violently, reentering the surrounding terrain and opening a gap.

Diana did not hesitate to advance.

Siva wondered if she had already come into contact with magic before that moment. He reflected that, if it was her first time, she would not have behaved with such fearlessness.

Diana entered what appeared to be the nave of an abandoned and decaying cathedral. Siva followed her slowly, pausing before crossing the cave wall.

The roof of the church had fallen, but the walls still stood, opening into the blue sky.

With no one to stop it, the vegetation had regained control of that space, hiding the mosaic floor which could now only be glimpsed.

Siva didn't notice her at first.

She was a figure so in tune with the harmonious nature that surrounded her as not to arouse attention.

When his eyes finally fell on her, Siva's body began to tremble uncontrollably. He saw his father's lifeless body again and heard the cries of his brothers and sisters.

"I was waiting for you." Her voice was a confident and beautiful melody, capable of making anyone who listened to it lower their guard. "Diana."

The girl looked at the figure with an adoring expression.

If Siva's body had not been filled with terror, he would have rushed to Diana to warn her of the danger. The Lover Goddess was not someone to underestimate or anger.

His father had learned it the hard way.

"Is this all real?" Diana muttered, stepping forward hesitantly.

The figure, which had the appearance of a breathtakingly beautiful young Earthling woman, approached her. "Touch me to prove it."

She offered a white hand, on which Diana placed her own.

"Do I seem real to you now? Or do you want me to pinch you?"

Diana walked away from that contact as if she had been burned. "What do you want from me?" she blurted out in a broken voice.

Siva would have liked to see her better, but from the position he was in he could only see the back of his prey and the diaphanous face of the Goddess.

"I'm here to answer your questions and help you."

Diana stepped back. "Help me?"

"Do you want to live, Diana? Do you want to get rid of Him? I can help you."

"How?" the girl asked suspiciously clutching her hand to her chest.

The Goddess clasped her hands behind her back and walked in a circle around the girl, observing her without changing her expression. "I'll show you how to use your powers."

"Powers you forced me to have," she retorted. "Why don't you just take them back? That's what he wants anyway, right?"

The Goddess stopped with her back to Siva, who took advantage of that moment to run towards a column of the destroyed church. He hid behind it and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

For a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything except his own heartbeat.

"I can't," said the Goddess.

"Why?"

"Because my Blessing is not easily reversible," she explained, starting to walk again. "If you want me to get my powers back, you will have to die. And you don't want to die, right?"

Diana didn't answer.

"Why did you choose me?" she asked.

Even though Siva could not see her he was sure that she was on the verge of tears.

The Goddess cocked her head to the side and, for a few minutes, she observed the girl before her. Her dark hair fell straight onto her shoulder. Siva thought that even though whole centuries had passed, that creature hadn't changed even a wrinkle. She was not like Siva's people who, living for whole millennia, always tried to look new and interesting.

The Goddess was unperturbed. Always the same.

For this reason, Siva found it incredible to accept that the Goddess before him had an attitude so different from the one he had known the day his father had died. Her gaze seemed to belong to another creature. In the woman who was talking to Diana, there was nothing of the violence and anger of the invincible creature who had taken off his father's head.

The eyes that were watching Diana were kind and understanding. Siva thought they were a lie, a camouflage to hide her real personality.

"Because I like you."

"Wh-what?"

The Goddess's laughter was childish and delicate. "I like you, Diana. This is why I chose to bless you. If I had known what awaited you..."

Wasn't it one of her powers to know everything? The Lover Goddess was known among the people of Siva for knowing every secret of the universe and for being able to predict the future with almost perfect accuracy.

"Can't you just find him and kill him?" Diana's voice was scared.

Siva felt his chest tighten. Who the fuck was the man who was stalking her? He vowed to find and kill him himself.

"I'm sorry," the Goddess replied, stretching out her arms to hold the girl close. "If I could have done it earlier, we wouldn't be here now."

But she had had no problem killing Siva's father.

That embrace broke Diana, who began to cry uncontrollably. The Goddess consoled her, stroking her head and shoulders with kindness and understanding. She didn't tell her to stop, she allowed her to vent as long as she needed to.

"I told you to come here because I want to help you," she insisted, still holding the girl. "Four challenges await you. If you complete them, I promise you that He will die."

"Really?" Diana asked, looking up hopefully at the Goddess.

"Of course."

Diana hid her face in the Goddess's shoulder.

"Everything will be fine," she reassured her. "I'll stand by you. Not physically, because I'm not allowed to, but I will always be close. Never doubt it."

Siva could not understand what was stopping the Goddess from killing the man herself and saving Diana. What was the point of blessing someone and granting them a share of her immense powers if she didn't defend them? Siva's own father had killed one of these Blessed many centuries before.

The Goddess continued to caress Diana, whispering words of encouragement. Diana needed at least five more minutes in her arms before pulling away.

Siva moved to the right of the column, changing the side he was using as cover, and leaned over to see the profiles of the two women. Diana's eyes were red and swollen. If she had not drunk some water and had continued to allow the tears to flow all night, it would have been impossible to hide from others that she had been crying.

Diana sniffed and rubbed her eyelids. "Do you swear you won't abandon me?" she asked like a child begging her parent not to leave her alone.

For a second time, Siva felt the need to tell her not to trust the Goddess.

"Your heart is safe in my hands," she promised, cupping her face between her fingers. "I will never leave you."

Diana's face lit up with happiness.

"Before you go," the Goddess continued, "there are other things I would like to talk about."

"Yes?"

The Goddess squeezed her face again and pulled Diana towards her torso. Diana tripped over her own feet, but the Goddess' grip prevented her from falling. There was at least a head difference between the two women.

"I love that you're an independent woman, darling, and your passion for history and civil rights is one of the reasons I like you."

Diana frowned. "But?"

The Goddess smiled at her eagerness. "But your attitude towards the men, who I have chosen to protect you, must be less aggressive."

That request didn't seem to make Diana happy. She tried to move away from her, but the Goddess prevented her. Her eyes stared intently into the human's.

"You can't tell them about imperialism or war crimes. You need to stop treating them like they are criminals ready to kill you. I chose them for a reason."

"They're men," Diana objected with disgust.

"Men who won't hurt you."

"How do you know?" Diana's voice trembled.

The smile on the Goddess' lips was pure confidence. "I know everything."

Diana looked down. "I'll try," she murmured. "But I can't promise you anything."

"That's fine," the Goddess replied, accepting the compromise.

The Goddess let go of her face and Diana looked back at her. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

The Goddess's head turned towards Siva, who immediately hid himself behind the pillar. Had he been discovered? Would the Goddess tell Diana about his true identity?

"The challenges I told you about..."

"They'll be difficult, I imagine. Won't they?"

Siva's heart was racing again and he put a hand over his mouth to silence his panting. He pressed the back of his head against the cold stone of the column.

"Yes. Difficult months await you, my love. But you are strong enough to overcome them."

Siva closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. She doesn't know about you.

"Give me your hand," ordered the Goddess.

While he kept telling himself he was safe, Siva dared to move his head beyond the pillar. He watched as Diana offered her palm. The Goddess rubbed her fingertips on Diana's hand.

"In Germany, near Cologne, there is a lake called Laacher See," she revealed.

"Is that where the first challenge will be held?" she asked. "What do I have to do?"

"You'll understand better when you get there."

Diana nodded.

The Goddess smiled at her and let go of her hand. "I have nothing else to say to you. If you want to ask me questions it's best to do it now."

"Why did you only appear to me now? I mean outside from the voice in my head" she asked in a betrayed voice.

The Goddess looked down and hesitated. Siva thought that her guilt was false. "I'm sorry I couldn't reach you sooner."

"I imagine a powerful creature like you has other priorities," Diana said, implicitly accusing the Goddess of negligence.

Siva expected the Goddess to be angry at the insult veiled in sarcasm.

"I don't blame you for the emotions you're feeling towards me," she replied, taking a step back and looking up at the sky. "I have made too many mistakes. Which I'm trying to remedy. I'm here now. And I can help you."

Diana remained silent, studying the woman before her.

"Don't give up, my child."

"I don't want to give up," Diana said with a determination that surprised Siva. "I want to take back the normality that you took from me when you chose me."

The Goddess nodded. "Complete my challenges and I promise you that you will be free."

"I will," Diana promised.

“Now, you should go." The Goddess smiled as if that meeting had been a success. "Your protectors are about to wake up."

Diana backed away, alarmed at the news that she had little time left. "Thank you?" From the confused tone in which Diana spoke, she didn't seem to have been able to find a better greeting.

"Run, Diana."

Siva's prey turned around and returned to the cave.

Siva wanted to follow her, but his body remained paralyzed by the awareness of being in the vicinity of the Goddess. He peered over the pillar at her, finding the creature staring up at the blue sky.

Taking advantage of her distraction, Siva fixed his gaze on the gap that led to the cave and started running at a loss for breath.

Before leaving the roofless church, he turned to look for the figure of the Goddess one last time. He found her eyes trained on him and a calm smile on her lips.

Terrified, Siva continued running.

The Goddess raised a hand to greet him and Siva understood that she had allowed him to overhear the conversation she just had with Diana.

When his feet entered the cave, the wall closed behind him and he fell to the ground. Panic immediately consumed him, preventing him from moving even a single muscle.

With fear clouding his mind, Siva was unable to process what he had just heard.

Chapter Text

Yoo suddenly woke up and his senses were immediately alarmed.

There was chaos around him. His hand went to the gun and he rose to his feet.

The sunlight shone with such force that it blinded him, preventing him from immediately understanding what was happening.

Whiskey stood over their target and was ranting, finishing each rant with words that Yoo guessed were curses in Spanish. Siva was standing next to him and was trying to calm him down, while the other two looked at the scene confused and still sleepy. Everyone's hands were on their guns except Siva's, who had them extended towards Whiskey.

“Don't touch me,” he warned, giving him an icy look.

Siva withdrew his hands, but did not move.

Through it all, their target was sitting on the ground, her amused gaze trained on the men in front of her.

"What's going on?" Yoo shouted, trying to get everyone's attention.

He lowered the gun, but he held it steady, ready to use it if the situation called for it.

He met Spider's surprised, tense eyes.

Whiskey pointed to their target. “She did something last night.”

The girl threw her head back. "I did nothing." With slow, calm movements, she rose to her feet. “You're the one who fell asleep during your shift.”

Whiskey looked ready to kill her. Everyone understood it except her. Spider had to grab Whiskey's shoulder and push him away.

"You fell asleep?" Yoo accused, clutching his gun.

Whiskey glanced at him quickly and rubbed his mustache. His anger was momentarily replaced by shame. “There's something wrong in this forest,” he replied, avoiding the question. "We were talking and then…"

“Talking?” Siva interrupted, looking outraged. “You were flirting.”

Whiskey frowned. “And then suddenly I fell asleep,” he said, ignoring the accusation.

Yoo couldn't believe his ears. He hated working with such irresponsible and incompetent people. “We get it,” he said, looking at Whiskey with disappointment. “We can't trust you.”

Whiskey sprinted towards him. "Say it again if you dare," he challenged, pointing a finger at him.

Yoo moved his index finger to the trigger, ready to get rid of the threat.

Their target cursed. “If you want to act like monkeys, go ahead,” she said, reaching down to pick up her sleeping bag. "Now I'm going to leave this forest. Stay here if you want."

"What? No, we need to reach the coordinates that..." Spider objected.

Their target waved a hand in the air. "It's no longer needed," she cut short.

"No longer needed?" Ghost repeated, taking a step toward and looking down at her.

“What did you do after I fell asleep?” Whiskey asked, burning her with his gaze.

Their target focused her eyes on the ground, avoiding their inquiring gazes. She concentrated on stuffing the sleeping bag into one of the backpacks. "Nothing."

“Diana” Yoo said her name as a warning. A father scolding his daughter.

The girl's humiliated eyes found his. She turned them away again and licked her lips, agitated.

"What happened last night?" Yoo insisted.

"I've reached the coordinates," she murmured. "Alone."

Spider put his hands in his hair, cursing. His breathing was rapid and he looked like he was about to lose control.

Whiskey had to take a few steps away from her. He reached into one of the backpacks to grab a pack of cigarettes and light one.

Yoo closed his eyes and focused on the gun he was still clutching in one hand.

If he had known that the job would test his patience, he probably wouldn't have accepted it. If the context had been different, he would have reached out to the girl and shaken some sense into her head.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Diana?” He continued to say her name with extreme disappointment.

His tone seemed to affect the girl. She stood back up and glared at them. “This happened because you didn't listen to me! If we'd gone where I wanted to go right away, I wouldn't have had to wait for you all to fall asleep."

"So it's our fault we didn't let you follow the voices like you're some crazy girl?" Spider had to ask to make sure he got it right.

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. "You were supposed to let me run around the forest following the butterflies, all right?" She walked agitatedly. "Because now we can get out of this fucking forest and go to our next destination."

"Where do we have to go?" Ghost, who surprisingly hadn't lost his composure, pretended to know.

The girl seemed surprised by his calmness. "Germany, in a lake near Cologne."

"How do you know where to go?" Spider asked, looking at her skeptically.

Shrugging her shoulders, she put on her shoes. "I've been chatting with the forest."

She was lying. There could be no other explanation.

Or…

Yoo tried to ignore what his mind was suggesting, but the thought kept coming and he couldn't stop it.

Perhaps the voices that Diana had heard belonged to the spirits that lived in the forest.

Yoo ran a hand down his chest, searching for the thin shape of the amulet he had been wearing constantly for decades. Not even the curiosity to confirm that hypothesis would have convinced him to take it off.

He lived much better since he could no longer see the spirits of the dead roaming the Earth. His life had improved since the day he had decided to wear the amulet and he did not want to go back.

It was possible that Diana was like him, that she too could see, hear, and communicate with them. Perhaps what she was looking for involved a spirit and that was why it was one of them who told her where to go next.

Yoo took a deep breath and holstered his gun.

Whatever the truth, the situation they found themselves in was annoying. He didn't trust any of them, including his target, and this put him in an awkward position.

Silence had fallen on the group. All the men had their eyes on the girl, who had calmly decided to ignore them as if they didn't exist.

Their target stood up and smoothed the folds of her jacket with her fingers. “Do you have any other questions I won't answer, or should we go?” she asked them with a smirk.

Yoo felt the anger return and had to do his best not to grab the girl and teach her a lesson there in front of everyone.

Whiskey, still furious, grabbed one of the two backpacks and took the lead. Spider gave the girl one last disgusted look and then turned and followed the older one.

Ghost placed a gloved hand on their target's shoulder and, without saying anything, forced her forward.

"Don't push me," she complained, trying to shake his hand away. Ghost tightened his grip and stepped forward to follow the others.

Muttering protests under her breath, the girl resumed walking.

Siva stood behind them and Yoo closed the line.

They had to hurry and find a solution or the relationship within the team would only get worse and the consequences would be terrible. On the return journey, he tried to think of something.

Maybe they needed to all hang out together and pretend to be a group of friends. Surely it would have allowed them to open up and trust each other better. Maybe something mundane would calm their target's rebellious attitude and let her know that they really wanted to protect her.

Of course, he had to have a meeting with only his companions, although it was impossible since one of them had to always stay with her.

The mission had only started for two days and it was already a disaster. How was this possible?

Instantly his brain identified the main problem: Diana.

She was not a soldier. She was just a little girl who refused to grow up.

She acted like she didn't get enough attention from her parents. Maybe that was where he needed to focus on.

Maybe if Yoo became a father figure to her, he could calm her down and make her feel safe.

Concentrated on his thoughts, he paid no attention to the forest surrounding them or to the passage of time. He let himself be guided, ignoring the voice that wanted to remind him that after tonight he couldn't trust Whiskey.

When they found the car, Yoo stopped to look at it, confused. It had seemed that not enough time had passed.

On the way there they had walked for hours and on the way back they had reached the starting point in just forty minutes. How was this possible?

He turned to study the silent, still forest. Happy to be covered from neck to toe, he didn't worry about others seeing him shiver.

Their target looked down at her dead phone and stopped in front of the trunk. "Can you open it? I have a power bank in my backpack" she said in a calm and docile tone. Her gaze sought that of Ghost, who had been driving the car ever since they had taken it.

Ghost looked at Whiskey, who took off his jacket and walked to the front seat next to the passenger. “Get in the car,” he ordered sharply.

The girl frowned and took a step towards him. As Ghost used the key fob to open the car, Whiskey yanked the door open. “I need the phone to communicate with the lieutenant,” she said, trying to reason with him.

Whiskey looked at her impassively. "I don't care."

Yoo was sure that their target would not be silent. He was surprised to see her step back and show her palms. "Okay, Tavernello*."

Whiskey slammed the door closed, nearly destroying it from the amount of excessive force used. “What did you just call me?”

Yoo had never heard that word before.

Whiskey advanced on the girl, who backed away. "Tavernello," she repeated, grinning. The reaction she got seemed to satisfy her. "Do you know what it is? A low quality and very cheap Italian wine."

Whiskey's nostrils flared as he filled himself with air in a futile attempt to maintain control. “You don't want to continue disrespecting me.”

Yoo took a step forward, ready to intervene, but Spider stopped him, placing a hand on his chest. “Let's see what happens,” he murmured, making Yoo understand that he too had been waiting until one of them could finally lose his temper and get the little girl back in line.

"Or what?" she asked, biting her lip and staring at the man in front of her with wild eyes.

Whiskey's chest was moving frantically.

“Will you kill me?” she insisted. “Go ahead, do it.”

Diana touched Whiskey's chest with a finger.

"Kill me, come on, free me from this torment."

Yoo felt his anger disappear at those words. The expression on Diana's face was not that of a sane girl. It was clear that she needed professional help.

"Come on…" her voice lost intensity. "Please."

Whiskey also seemed to have lost the adrenaline created by anger and had begun to study Diana with compassion.

“No one's going to kill anyone,” Ghost interjected. As he passed them, he glanced meaningfully at Whiskey, who raised his own gaze, staring up at the sky.

Without saying another word, they all got into the car. Yoo sat down in front of Diana, who pulled her legs up to her chest and hid her face. Siva took the seat next to her, looking at her with genuine concern.

"Where are we headed?" Ghost asked, starting the car.

“Germany,” Whiskey replied, gripping the back of his seat.

"Shouldn't we go by plane?" suggested Spider, who was sitting to Yoo's left. His indecipherable gaze was fixed on their target.

"No, we'll go by car. When we are in Germany it will be easier to travel and get to the lake" Whiskey explained. “Since it's a long trip, we can take turns at the wheel and stop in the evening when we're too tired to continue.”

Nobody objected.

Yoo crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed back into the seat. He kept his attention fixed on the girl before him for the next few hours.

Diana never changed position.

Chapter Text

Ghost was exhausted.

That morning he had driven for five hours straight, without a break, until Spider and Whiskey had forced him to stop and let one of them take his place. If they hadn't insisted, he would have easily driven to France himself.

After nearly eight hours of driving, Yoo suggested they stop. They would cross the canal the next day and, if they stopped only a short time, they would arrive at the lake before evening.

The little girl was curled up on herself. Since they had left, she hadn't spoken much and she had kept to herself, lost in her thoughts. In the moments when she was silent, her face had a dark and sad expression. As long as he had known her, Ghost had rarely seen her smile and in most cases, it was a mocking sneer, used against them. Her smile was fragile, like the control she had over her emotions.

Ghost spread his legs and didn't stop watching her. Sitting in front of her, he was supposed to intimidate her, but Diana didn't even seem to notice. As if he wasn't a threat.

It was the first time that she had to deal with a person so much smaller than him who was capable of looking into his eyes without flinching. From the first glance she had given him, she had never considered him. Even the other men who made up the team had eyed him with a minimum of alarm, suspicion, or fear.

She had never changed the way she looked at him.

There was a part of Ghost, the most macabre, that wanted to work hard to find her breaking point. What did he have to do to her to ward off the anger and sadness that fought to gain dominance in her eyes?

The little girl, who had her gaze directed towards the outside of the car, bit her lip, tearing the skin. Without moving her head, she reached for the phone, which she had left on the empty spot between her and Yoo, to choose another song. The music in her headphones was so loud that even those close to her could hear it. Ghost wondered how she wasn't already deaf.

Her teeth dug harder into her lip and, as Ghost had predicted, she tore enough flesh to split her skin. Her lips turned red and a tiny streak of blood slid down her chin.

Ghost gripped his own hands, refraining from reaching out to clean her.

The little girl noticed the wound. She brought a finger to her mouth, staining the digit. She looked at her own blood with an annoyed look. What had she expected? It was normal she got hurt.

Some fingers snapped not too far from Ghost's head, he turned to look at the hand Spider had raised between the two seats. That gesture attracted everyone's attention, even the little girl, who took off her headphones and turned down the music. "We're looking for a hotel for tonight. Diana, I need you to give us your card and tell us your PIN so we can pay while you stay here.”

“It's better if we don't all go down together,” Whiskey added.

"I'm not giving you my credit card," the little girl interrupted them, looking back outside and placing her feet on the ground. Ghost spread his legs a little further, allowing her to fit hers between his larger ones.

Spider cursed in Spanish and the little girl rolled her eyes.

"Diana," Whiskey called in an almost gentle voice. The opposite of the one he had used that same morning. “I promise that we won't steal anything from you and that you will get your card back.”

From the way the little girl was clenching her jaw, Whiskey must have known what her exact concerns were. She took a few minutes to think. “Okay,” she said, moving her gaze to meet Spider's in the rearview window. “But if you're lying to me, I swear I'll make you regret it.”

"How?" Ghost asked, intrigued by her constant threats.

The little girl didn't even glance at him. She crossed her arms, rested her head against the window, and closed her eyes. “You don't want to know, trust me.”

"I want to know, trust me," he mocked her.

Finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were cruel. Without saying anything, she moved one foot and placed it gently on his lap.

Diana pressed between Ghost's legs with very little force, just enough to make him understand her intentions. Making sure to never break eye contact with her, Ghost grabbed her ankle, hooking his fingers under the rough fabric of her pants. Diana pressed harder.

The pain filled him with adrenaline.

"Diana."

Ghost hated Yoo for interrupting that moment.

The little girl looked at the man sitting to her right, who was observing her with a stern expression, and put her foot back on the ground. Ghost had to let her go.

Whiskey exited the motorway, entering a small, depopulated English town. Everyone looked outside, trying to locate a place with rooms where they could sleep.

Ghost's gaze fell on houses that were all the same: low, red brick walls and sloping roofs. The city didn't seem that different from the one he had grown up in. Whiskey drove aimlessly, continuing to look for a place to stop.

"If you want, there's a motel five kilometers from here," said the little girl, looking at her phone screen. “The reviews say it's terrible, but we're only staying here for one night anyway.”

"Show me," Spider ordered, turning to her.

The little girl leaned forward, trying to get closer to the front seats. Ghost found her too close for his liking and, when she placed a hand on the back of his seat to keep her balance, he did everything he could not to focus on her.

“Here, can you see it?”

“It looks like a horrible place,” Spider said.

“I can look for another one if you don't like it.”

“We have time,” Yoo interjected. “Even if it's just for one night, it's best to find a quiet hotel.”

Ghost agreed with him. They didn't need to go looking for trouble. If they went to a disreputable place it was possible that they would meet the wrong people. And their group was too conspicuous to hope to go unnoticed.

The little girl nodded. She turned to Ghost. Their faces were a short distance from each other and he was grateful that he was wearing the balaclava. “Can you sit in my place?” she asked, pointing to the two men sitting up front. “So I look for other, better places and show them more easily.”

Up close, Ghost noticed that she was a beautiful woman. Her beauty wasn't breathtaking, but her soft features suited her well. He could see the shades of her irises.

Lost in admiring her, he didn't answer her question. The little girl narrowed her eyes at him, confused.

"Sit in my place," Siva told her, getting up to move.

The car was too small for two of them to move around easily. Siva's larger figure forced the little girl to step back awkwardly.

When the little girl's butt touched his thigh, Ghost closed his eyelids and took a deep breath. That contact didn't last long. As soon as Siva sat down in the place the little girl had occupied, she got up from Ghost's leg so she could sit next to him.

Ghost touched his thigh and for the next few minutes, he seemed to continue to feel her body pressed against his.

What he was feeling was wrong.

The strange sensation that coursed through him was concentrated in two specific places: his head and between his legs.

Diana sat with her feet towards him, completely ignoring the conflict he was experiencing within himself.

If Ghost could, he would have destroyed something.

“Look at this,” the little girl said, holding the phone out to Spider, who grabbed her wrist to see the screen.

Ghost stared at Spider's olive fingers tightening around her arm. He hoped she would turn away from the contact in disgust, but the little girl didn't even seem to notice. She showed other options to Spider who rejected them all.

Finally, after endless minutes in which Spider continued to hold her wrist, a hotel was chosen less than ten kilometers away, but further from the road they had to travel. Being tired, they left the car in the only available parking they could find and walked towards the entrance. They split into the usual two groups and spoke to the front desk to ask for two rooms.

The hotel they had chosen looked shabby and poor, as if they never had many guests. They were told they had no rooms for three people. However, one with two double beds and another with just one were available.

The older woman sitting behind the reception desk had immediately noticed that they were together and gave the little girl a disgusted look, as if she were looking at a slut. Ghost clenched his fists, keeping himself from defending her.

Diana looked at the woman with an indifferent expression. It almost seemed like she was daring the woman to say something out loud.

It didn't happen.

They took the two rooms offered and went out to find something to eat. They stopped at a restaurant not too far from the hotel and sat at the same table, ignoring the looks people were throwing their way.

They would only be there one night and they were all too tired to split up. If someone had asked them something, they would have made up a believable excuse.

They didn't speak to each other, and from the looks Ghost met, it was clear to him that the tension between them wasn't going to disappear easily.

That morning, the team's problems had shown themselves, hitting them all in the face and proving that they couldn't pretend anymore that they weren't there.

Not knowing what they were doing would prevent them from trusting each other. But the little girl would never reveal her secrets.

Unless they forced her to do it.

Ghost thought he was on his way to popping her.

Besides him, Spider also seemed to have decided to take that path.

“When we get to Germany, I need to drink something strong,” the little girl said, speaking more to herself than to them.

Having finished eating, they all stood up to go and pay.

“You can't drink yet,” Spider told her.

The little girl looked at him with a disappointed expression. “We're not in the United States, cowboy,” she reminded him. "In Europe, we can drink earlier and even if I had been underage, I wouldn't have let anyone stop me."

She turned her back to him and approached the register. Leaning on the counter with her elbows, she waited for one of the waiters, a man in his sixties, to join her. The little girl pretended not to see the judgment in his expression and told him that she would pay for everyone. The man's eyes lifted to look at Ghost and the others. He lowered it immediately, meeting icy stares.

“Are you going to be here long?” the man asked, looking at their little girl with curious eyes. Ghost wanted to get them out of his head.

The little girl smiled naively. "We are passing through. We have to go to a wedding in France" she lied. "We were invited by the groom." She forced a laugh. "I mean, I don't know him. He is a friend of my boyfriend." She turned to meet Ghost's gaze, who stared at her in surprise.

"The groom is one of those rich men who invites anyone, you know," Spider interjected, smiling affably and approaching the counter. "They're getting married on the beach and they've invited lots of people."

"Something like five hundred guests, if I'm not mistaken" added the little girl, looking at Spider with a relaxed expression.

“Yes, I remember about five hundred too,” he agreed, returning her look.

“He even made us a bank transfer to pay for our trip,” Yoo explained, pointing to the card in the little girl's hand.

The man looked down at the card. He didn't really seem convinced by their lie, but doubt had crept into his expression. He asked the little girl to place her credit card on a payment machine.

Still smiling, the little girl followed his instructions. “Who understands these rich people, am I right?”

The man forced a smile. “If he needs another guest, let me know.”

“Sure,” Spider said. "I can guarantee you that we will tell him about this restaurant. I haven't eaten this well in a while."

“That's because you're American,” the little girl whispered.

Spider glared at her, immediately returning to the man. “Anyway, it's not long to the French border from here, right?”

The man nodded and told them information that they actually already had.

When they left the restaurant, Spider and Diana were still smiling. They greeted the waiter with warm words.

Their attitude transformed as soon as they returned to the streets.

“You're good at lying,” Spider said, looking anywhere but at the little girl who was walking beside him.

"So are you."

“We're attracting too much attention,” Whiskey said, interrupting them. “It's best to leave as early as possible tomorrow.”

“Even if we attract attention, what could happen?” the little girl asked, turning and walking backward so she could look at him.

“We don't know for sure if anyone else is looking for you,” Yoo replied.

The little girl scratched her nose. “I don't think so,” she said. "In theory, no one knows about me except Him. So…" She turned and shrugged.

"You can't know," Siva interjected, giving her a stern look and taking a few steps past her.

Ghost stared at the little girl's back. What exactly did the man who was looking for her know? That she could hear voices in the silence?

He rolled his eyes, breathing in a breath of fresh air through the nose. He hated being in the dark. Maybe he and the others could team up and try to get little details individually that together would explain what the fuck was going on.

“Anyway,” Whiskey continued, “since we can't be sure, it's best to be careful.”

They stopped at a red light. The city was desolate in the evening, but they waited for the green without crossing the empty street.

“We don't want people to start asking questions,” Spider said. His gaze found that of the little girl. “They might go to the police who might come and bother us.” His arms were crossed, his head tilted slightly towards her, and his legs spread apart. If Ghost hadn't already known that Spider had been in the military, surely the way he moved and stopped would prove it. "And we don't want that, do we? It would delay the mission."

His tone, the one of a father who is scolding his daughter, did not escape anyone, especially not the little girl, who moved her lips to imitate his voice in a mocking gesture. “No, we don't want it.”

When the light turned green they moved together. Ghost thanked the traffic light for interrupting Spider's response.

They didn't speak until they returned to the hotel.

Their rooms were on two different floors, but Whiskey asked everyone to regroup for a moment in the larger room.

The little girl sat on one of the beds, crossing her legs, and looked boredly at the five men still standing.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” Whiskey announced, looking at his companions and going to sit on the bed opposite to Diana. “We can't avoid talking about it anymore.”

Ghost focused his gaze on the red armchair in front of the table that was near the door. He turned it so he could look at Whiskey and the little girl, and he sat down, opening his legs for comfort.

Whiskey's gaze slid to the little girl. He was also sitting with his legs open, with one hand resting on his knee and his back curved forward.

"What?" she asked, noticing that everyone was looking at her.

“Last night,” Whiskey began to say, forcing his voice to be calm.

The little girl put a foot down and stretched out an arm towards Whiskey, pointing a finger at him. “Last night wasn't my fault,” she warned. “Don't you dare use the consequences of your choices against me.”

"The consequences of our choices?" Spider repeated.

“You can't expect us to trust you after you disobeyed our orders,” Whiskey said, keeping his eyes on her.

"Well." The little girl put the other foot on the ground and glanced at Spider, before turning back to Whiskey. "I don't trust you after you didn't listen to me!"

“Do you realize that you asked us to listen to a voice that only you could hear?” Spider reminded her.

“If you don't like dealing with a crazy woman, you can always get out.”

“I'm starting to think I should do it,” Spider said. From the fact that he had advanced towards her and was still glaring at her, Ghost assumed that he had only said that to make her angry.

The little girl pointed to the door. “Great, go ahead, more money for me and the others when this story is over.”

Yoo reached his hands forward and placed himself between them. "Let's stay calm, hum?" He raised his eyebrows and searched their gazes. “I'm sure we can find a solution.”

“What do you mean you'll have more money too?” Spider asked her, ignoring Yoo. “Isn't the money already yours?”

The little girl smiled and pointed both index fingers at him. Her hands imitated two pistols. “I know what you're trying to do and it won't work. I won't reveal any more information about myself to you."

Whiskey sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. “Who do you want to sleep with tonight, Diana?”

The girl's gaze snapped to him. "Huh?"

Chapter Text

The little girl approached Whiskey, looking down at him. "What does it mean?" she asked in an agitated tone.

Ghost noticed that her breathing was rapid and her cheeks were darker than usual.

The elder man kept his gaze fixed on her. "You could try to leave in the middle of the night, so…"

The little girl didn't let him finish. "It wouldn't make any sense for me to do that!" she protested. “I have to get to the fucking lake.”

Whiskey stood up and approached her. The little girl immediately backed away, but she didn't look away from him. With his height, he seemed to want to remind her who had the power in their dynamic.

"Don't interrupt me, Diana," he warned. The expression on his face was as harsh as if he were dealing with one of his insubordinate soldiers.

The little girl's lips pressed into a straight, serious line. Ghost was sure he read in her attitude the painfully restrained desire to respond and make the situation even worse. He was surprised to see her holding back.

Whiskey continued to tower over her, enjoying the power in his hands. “Tonight you will sleep tied to two of us.”

The girl's fists clenched until her knuckles were white and she looked ready to hit Whiskey with a punch right in the face.

Yoo took a step towards them, but the two didn't look away from each other. "If you behave well, starting tomorrow we won't have to do this anymore."

Whiskey tilted his head forward, bringing his face closer to hers. “Who do you choose?”

The little girl tilted her head back, exposing her neck. Ghost didn't miss how Whiskey's gaze fell on her exposed flesh, and neither did she.

"I don't care," she replied. “Since none of you seem interested in my opinion, I'll leave the choice up to you.”

And with that sentence, she had ended the discussion.

Whiskey turned away from her and looked at his teammates, asking their opinion on the matter.

Spider sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “We can keep the groups as they have already been organized.”

Siva, who had approached the window to stare outside, turned towards them. "It is fine for me."

Yoo looked towards Ghost. "Is it OK for you?"

He just nodded. Knowing that he had to sleep in the same bed as both the little girl and Siva wasn't making him crazy with joy, but it was the best solution. That way, they could monitor her and make sure she didn't run away.

“Perfect,” the little girl said, clapping her hands. “Can I go take a shower now or do we have other things to discuss?”

Whiskey turned his back to her and approached the bed. He took off his belt and threw it on the mattress, attracting the attention of Siva, who came over to take it. “We get up at seven tomorrow morning.”

Ghost sat up from his chair. "Roger." Without another word, he left the room.

He didn't turn to see if the little girl and Siva were following him, trusting his hearing and the footsteps he soon heard behind him.

He spoke to them only when they entered the room, telling the little girl that she could take the shower first and that she couldn't stay there for too long.

The little girl came out of the bathroom after only fifteen minutes, already wearing long white pajamas with embroidered pink flowers. Ghost tried not to stare at her pointy breasts, or look at her black panties. Couldn't she have worn a less flashy color? Black with white on top? She almost seemed to want to get their attention.

Ghost used the bathroom second and took all the time he needed to calm down. When he returned to the room, the little girl was curled up in the center of the large double bed. Seeing her there, in that position, and knowing that he had to sleep next to her, made him think that he hadn't been under the cold water of the shower long enough.

When it was Siva's turn to use the bathroom, Ghost sat on the edge of the bed, his back to the little girl who was watching videos on her phone.

The first night they had spent in the same room, she had stayed up late watching those stupid videos. Even though she had kept the volume at a minimum, Ghost hadn't been able to fall asleep.

He put his head in his hands. His fingers, no longer covered by the black gloves he always had on, touched the familiar fabric of the balaclava. He ran his palms together, trying to calm himself. He had to stay in that bed for less than ten hours. He could resist.

Nothing was going to happen.

When Siva finally came out of the bathroom, he was wearing only a towel tied tightly around his waist. Ghost glared at him.

Siva's dark, muscular body was exposed for all to see and he didn't even seem to care. Ignoring Ghost's furious gaze and the little girl's embarrassed look, Siva reached the armchair where they had left their bags. He took his pajamas and walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.

Ghost stared at the wall still unable to make sense of what he had just witnessed. Why the fuck was he coming out of the bathroom, showing them everything his body had to offer? He covered his eyes, sighing.

Siva left the bathroom after another ten minutes. Ghost stared at him with stern eyes, hoping that he would understand that he no longer had to repeat what he had just done, but from Siva's confused expression, he was sure that his message had not gotten through.

"Should we go to sleep?" the little girl asked, without looking up from the screen.

Her curled-up body was pointing towards Ghost, who turned to look at her exposed ankles. "We'll tie you to us with the belts," he warned.

He stood up and walked over to the table to pick them up from where he had left them.

“If you two have to use the bathroom, do it now.”

When he turned around, Siva and the little girl were sitting on the bed and looking at him, waiting for Ghost to join them. Ghost closed his eyes, trying to chase away the images his perverted mind was showing him.

There was nothing sensual about what he had to do.

He reached the edge of the bed. He used only two fingers to command those two to come closer.

The little girl threw herself backward, hitting her head on the mattress, and raised one foot towards him. Siva approached without fuss.

Ghost grabbed the little girl's ankle. He forcefully swallowed the saliva he felt gathering in his mouth as his fingers touched her warm, soft skin. He also took hold of Siva's ankle and forced their feet together.

He tied them carefully, making sure it was tight enough so their feet wouldn't slip but not enough to hurt.

He took a few steps away so he could admire his work. "How is it?" he asked.

“Disgusting,” the little girl replied, staring at the ceiling.

"Does it hurt?" Ghost specified, turning to take the other belt.

For Siva's ankle he had used the one Whiskey had given them, but for himself, he would use his own.

“No,” Siva and the little girl said in unison.

“Good,” Ghost murmured.

He let go of their legs to reach the bed and sit next to the little girl's reclining body. He took her other ankle and brought it closer to his to join them. He wanted to know again if it was too tight for her, she responded by shaking her head and picking up her phone.

When Ghost turned off all the lights, the screen lit up the room like a lantern.

The bed wasn't big enough to fit three people, especially when two of them were big men. To avoid falling, Siva placed himself on his side. Ghost could see his tired face thanks to the light emanating from the phone the little girl was staring at intently.

Ghost cocked his head to the side and tried to see what had gotten the full attention of the little girl lying next to him.

He watched her scroll up with one finger, through an app full of short videos. They were mostly women talking about feminism or racism, silly sketches that Ghost didn't find funny but which made her smile, and videos of cats or dogs. When a video of a half-naked man wearing only a black mask covering his face appeared, the little girl quickly scrolled.

Ghost turned his head and closed his eyes, trying to control the strange satisfaction building in his chest.

The little girl continued to watch the videos, holding back her giggles, for at least another half hour.

Even though he had closed his eyes, Ghost didn't feel tired in the slightest. Sleep wasn't what he needed at the moment. But he had no intention of listening to his body.

When the girl decided to turn off the phone, she put pressure on her elbows and Ghost reached beyond her to try to place the phone on the bedside table. Her hand couldn't reach it and Ghost, without opening his eyes, took the object from her fingers and put it down violently.

"Thanks," she murmured, lying back down.

For the next few minutes, Ghost strained his ears to listen to the steady breathing of the two people lying next to him. Siva was certainly asleep, but the little girl continued to turn around, looking for a more comfortable position. Their joined ankles forced Ghost to stretch out his foot to heed her will. Even if he wouldn't fall asleep, maybe he could let her.

As soon as they seemed to find their balance, Siva sat up. With his eyes still closed, he tried to get out of bed. His ankle tugged at the little girl's, who muttered objections, and Siva let out a guttural noise of annoyance. "I have to use the bathroom."

Ghost stared at him, ready to insult him. "I warned you."

“I know…” Siva complained, rubbing his eyes. "But I have to go. Can't I take it off?”

“No,” Ghost said shortly, sitting up.

“Can't you wait another couple of hours?” the little girl asked, pressing her head into the pillow.

“No, I have to go.”

Ghost cursed. "All right." He shook the little girl's shoulder, ordering her to wake up. She responded with insults in Italian, but she obeyed. “Siva, get out of bed slowly,” he ordered.

All three being tired, his orders were followed with whispered complaints. In a single file, they reached the bathroom.

Before Siva pulled down his pants, Ghost forced the little girl to turn around. Her body faced Ghost's and her back was to Siva's. To be safe, Ghost even covered her eyes.

"Can I ask you a question?" the little girl asked suddenly. Her voice drowned out the sound of Siva pulling down his pants.

“Who are you talking to?”

"To you."

Ghost looked at her skeptically. His eyes were soon drawn to Siva's body. He opened them wide in surprise to see the monster his teammate kept in his pants.

“Why are you wearing a balaclava?” Ghost had to blink at least a couple of times before he focused back on her. The little girl, since he wasn't answering, added: "Is it because you're ugly? If so, you shouldn't hide your face. I say this with all sincerity. This world sucks and pretty privilege is shit. But you can't let the world destroy you. Don't be ashamed of yourself."

Ghost had no intention of having that kind of conversation in the middle of the night and while one of them was taking a piss. "Why are you interested?"

“Because I feel sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Empathy doesn't work like that.”

"I don't care."

The little girl shook her head. "No, but really. Why are you wearing it? Do you have any ugly scars? Dude, scars are cool."

“So you don't like masked men?” Ghost's hand put more pressure on the little girl's eyes.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said, embarrassed by the insinuation.

Ghost smiled and moved closer to her. He heard her breathing through the fabric of his balaclava. "Liar."

Siva pressed the toilet and Ghost looked back at him, feeling relief at seeing him dressed. "We can go back to sleep," he announced, yawning without covering his mouth.

Ghost took his hand away from the little girl, immediately meeting her curious eyes. Without realizing it, he got lost in looking at her for a few seconds.

What would she think if she could see his exposed face?

Ghost closed his eyes and turned away, forcing that thought to stay in the bathroom. He led them towards the bed.

Again, Siva was the first to fall asleep. This time, his breathing became louder and louder. Ghost, although he was used to hearing his teammates snoring, was sure that he would not fall asleep.

He stared at the white ceiling, letting his thoughts free.

The little girl moved again. Probably already lost in dreamland, she stretched out a leg towards him. Ghost stared at her, surprised by that contact.

He stood still, stiffening as she nestled into his side and gripped his arm with those gentle fingers of hers. The little girl's leg rose until it pressed into Ghost's lower abdomen, and he felt a grunt get stuck in his throat.

He closed his eyelids and allowed himself to touch the little girl's knee.

In his defense, he told himself, she had touched him first, and that justified his actions. He squeezed her flesh between his fingers. It was a pleasant feeling. If he hadn't feared being discovered, he would have left his hand there all night.

With a roar-like sound, Siva turned onto his side. His arm shot out towards Ghost, hitting him across the chest. The little girl snuggled even closer to Ghost's arm, who clenched his fist trapped between their bodies.

Ghost observed with annoyance the way Siva had approached his little girl. He was too attached for his liking. He let go of the leg, that was still pressed against him, and shook Siva, who fell onto his back.

The little girl smiled in her sleep and pressed her lips to Ghost's shoulder, who couldn't help but stare at her, enchanted.

When she was asleep, she looked like an angel.

Something inside him shifted unpleasantly, warming his chest.

Ghost looked back at the ceiling, telling himself that the emotion he was feeling was only compassion.

Chapter Text

Siva awoke in a confusion of limbs and pain. His ankle ached as if his blood could no longer reach his foot and his chest felt heavy, making him think there was a stone above it.

Grumbling, he opened his eyes to try to figure out what was happening.

He had to observe what was in front and next to him for a few minutes before he made sense of it. And he needed even more time to remember how he ended up with a belt tied around his ankle and in the same bed as those two.

His head fell back onto the pillow and Siva sighed.

He couldn't feel his arm, but he doubted Diana and Ghost would let him remove it from under the pillow their heads were resting on. Siva was sure that if he moved too much he would wake them both.

Not wanting to do so, he remained watching them, still too sleepy to do anything else.

When they were sleeping, they were both calm and motionless. Siva enjoyed the silence and peaceful atmosphere that surrounded them.

Diana moved slightly, pressing the cheek she had placed on Siva's chest more forcefully. Ghost stopped her from moving away from him, tightening the grip he had on her stomach.

Siva studied him, still amazed to see Ghost sleeping attached to her. Every time they were together, Ghost gave Siva the impression that he hated Diana with all his being. He stared at her too intently and never missed an opportunity to snap at her. An attitude that contrasted with what Siva felt when he stopped to listen to the flow of his blood. He had felt it gather between Ghost's legs far too many times for his liking.

The worst part of having that power was that Siva had also sensed the blood shifts of the other men.

He still had no idea why they were all so perverted, but he promised himself that he would never allow any of them to be alone with Diana.

From their looks, it was clear that they would not be gentle to her as soon as they put aside the control they had over their desires.

Yoo was perhaps the only one he trusted a little more. He gave Siva the impression of being the most composed and good-natured.

Diana pressed her body against Siva's left side, hiding her face against his shirt. Siva felt the need to raise his other hand, which was free and alive, to stroke her hair.

He felt guilty for not standing up for her in front of the others. If he had said she wasn't crazy, he would had to explain how he knew and reveal that he had followed her.

Every time Siva thought back to what he had seen and heard, he felt terror coursing through his body. Not wanting to start shaking in front of everyone, he was trying not to push himself to think about it.

He had been sure of only one thing ever since he left the cave and returned to the others: the Goddess had wanted him there. She had called him, as she had called Diana. She had wanted him to hear about the trials.

Siva thought it was a way for the Goddess to warn him that she was keeping an eye on him. What she had said about having chosen them herself had made Siva think that he too had been selected.

He shifted his gaze to Ghost, wondering about the reasons that could have pushed the Goddess to choose him. What did he have to offer the group besides his enormous body?

Perhaps the Goddess had chosen those men only based on their fighting skills.

It made sense.

From what little he understood of the four men who were part of the team, they all seemed very competent and determined. Despite their constant bickering with Diana, Siva believed that all of them would not hesitate to defend her if they found themselves in a dangerous situation.

Their little moment of tranquility was interrupted by a dull knock on the door. Ghost sat up and Siva took the opportunity to remove his arm from under the pillow, ignoring Diana's protests.

Ghost grabbed Diana's shoulder and shook her aggressively. "Wake up."

Whoever was behind the door continued to bang harder.

“We're coming,” Siva shouted, leaning forward to unravel the belt.

He sighed as soon as his ankle was free. He put both feet on the ground, but when he stood up, the leg that had been tied gave way and he found himself limping to the door.

"Who is there?" he asked before opening it.

"Spider," the voice replied. Siva turned the handle. "It's seven o'clock, we'll meet at the car in half an hour."

Without giving him time to respond, Spider turned and walked down the hall. Siva closed the door and glanced at the other two people in the room.

Ghost had stood up and was changing, his back to the bed where Diana was still sleeping.

Siva moved his own hands over his face, commanding himself to fully wake up. He slowly sat down on the mattress and shook the girl. "We have to go."

“Five more minutes,” she replied, pulling her legs up to her chest.

Siva noticed that both her ankles were red and he touched her skin, trying to heal her without her realizing it. He massaged her flesh gently, watching her skin return to a normal color.

"What are you doing?" Ghost's grumpy, husky voice stiffened him.

Siva suddenly turned away from Diana. "I was waking her up," he said, trying not to arouse any suspicion.

Ghost's icy gaze seemed to give him a warning that would make anyone tremble.

Siva stepped back, away from the bed, and allowed Ghost to approach Diana. Without warning, Ghost pulled her forward, bringing her to the edge of the mattress. There, he took a step back and then pushed Diana to the ground.

Siva didn't have time to stop her from hitting her forehead on the floor.

Diana cursed in pain.

Ghost towered over her. “Next time, you get up when I'm still saying it politely.”

Diana's eyes filled with hatred and more obscenities left her lips. Siva couldn't believe what he was hearing no matter how creative his prey's threats were. He promised himself never to make her angry.

He lowered himself to the ground to help her, but Diana waved him away.

"I swear on your mother, Simon Riley, as soon as we're done with this mission I'll…"

Ghost didn't give her time to complete the sentence. He reached her in one stride and grabbed her throat. “I thought I was clear,” he said through gritted teeth. “But apparently you can't listen to adults when they talk.”

The grip on Diana's throat tightened dangerously.

Diana smiled, satisfied with the situation she had created. “I will kill you with pleasure.”

Ghost brought his face closer to hers. “You can try, little girl.”

He let her go suddenly. Diana put a hand on her neck and doubled over to breathe in the air he had stolen from her. “Fuck you,” she slurred.

Siva approached her and stretched out his hands to heal her, but again Diana rudely chased him away.

The door to their room slammed violently and Siva looked up to find that Ghost had left without saying anything.

He had left him alone with Diana.

Diana who was his prey.

The prey he had to kill.

Siva tried to move away from her, tripped over his own feet, and fell to the ground.

Panic gripped his chest painfully. He began to gasp, desperately trying to get some air and fill his lungs.

He was alone with her. Ghost had just given him the perfect opportunity to kill her.

Diana entered his anxiously narrowed field of vision. She was talking to him, but Siva could hear no sound other than his heartbeat.

He could have killed her.

Siva's eyes focused on the throbbing vein in Diana's neck.

He had done it before.

All he had to do was order her blood to reach him. He might even have given her a heart attack. Or he could get up, transform, and stick his hand into her chest himself to rip out her heart.

Diana leaned toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder. The concern on her face was genuine, the same one she had given him when they boarded the plane.

Siva crawled away from her.

He wouldn't have been able to.

He was too weak.

Diana was innocent, a suffering soul who had never harmed anyone. Siva had understood this the first time he had seen her.

Her eyes were not those of a murderer or a monster. They were nothing like the creatures Siva had killed in the past. They reminded him of the kind eyes of his younger sisters.

He couldn't hurt her.

The Goddess surely knew. She knew he was a coward and incompetent. For this reason, she had allowed him to be near her blessed.

Siva was pathetic.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, hissing his breath out.

He wanted to go home and forget about everything, but the spell on his bracelet wouldn't let him until he completed the mission.

He took his hair between his fingers. His breathing became more frantic and his vision blurred. He felt like he was about to faint.

Suddenly, soft arms wrapped around him from the front. Siva struggled, but the hands grabbed his head, forcing him to rest his forehead on one shoulder.

"It's okay," a female voice murmured, stroking his hair. "You're safe. No one can hurt you."

Siva felt the arrival of a painful whine. He enveloped the person who was hugging him and melted into that gentle and reassuring contact.

“Keep breathing, Siva,” the voice insisted, slowly managing to calm him. "Everything is fine."

Siva clung to her flesh, holding the girl possessively.

They sat on the ground for ten minutes, holding each other. Diana continued to caress him, whispering gentle, comforting words.

Siva moved away from her cautiously as if he feared he had broken her. He kept his gaze down, ashamed of himself for again losing control in front of her.

When he raised his eyes to meet Diana's, she was smiling. He didn't see any kind of judgment or malice in her face, just understanding, as if she could understand what he was feeling.

“Can you get up?” she asked.

Siva nodded.

Diana stood up first. She offered him a hand which Siva stared at in fascination.

Why had the Goddess chosen the beautiful creature that he was lucky enough to admire? Why hadn't she chosen Ghost? Siva would have killed him willingly and without hesitation.

“Those assholes are waiting for us,” she told him, joking.

Perhaps Siva could pray for the Goddess to forgive him and send him home. He would think later about how to deal with his family.

He accepted Diana's hand and allowed her to pull him up.

Siva approached her, continuing to look at her with eyes full of wonder.

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” she asked, avoiding his gaze. Siva thought he saw embarrassment in her pretty face. “I promise I won't try to escape while you're gone.”

"I know you won't run away," he whispered.

Diana met his eyes and her smile widened with happiness.

More knocks on the door broke their eye contact. Diana turned her head to look at the door, annoyed by the aggressiveness with which they were banging, and Siva was tempted to grab her chin and force her to bring her attention back to him.

"I'm coming!" Diana shouted, reaching for the person who was disturbing them.

Siva looked up at the ceiling and turned to go to the bathroom.

He closed the door behind him, leaving outside the screams that entered the room as soon as Spider crossed the threshold.

With his back pressed against the cold hardwood, Siva slid towards the ground.

The panic wasn't completely gone, but Diana had managed to weaken it enough that it became as light as a whisper in the back of his head. Siva was sure that he would come back strong as soon as another situation like that arose and he didn't know what to do.

It really would have been easier if Diana had been different. Her kindness could not even make him wish that his elder brother or sister had gone instead of him. Because he was sure that both of them would have killed her without any difficulty.

That was the problem. Siva did not want her to die.

If he already thought so after knowing her for a few days, he didn't dare imagine how he would feel as the months that awaited them passed.

He couldn't continue like this. He had to find a solution.

He put his hands to his face, trying to think.

His thoughts were interrupted by Spider, who knocked on the door behind him. “Hurry in there,” he said sharply. “We're leaving in ten minutes.”

Siva forced himself to his feet and reached the sink. "Got it," he shouted, turning on the tap.

He ran the icy water over his dark fingers, focusing on the sensation. He had to stop being nice to Diana.

If he had behaved towards her as others did, she would have responded with the same attitude. She would start to hate him and, consequently, Siva would hate her.

He met the dark eyes of his reflection. They were scared.

"You can do it," he whispered.

His jaw clenched.

“You'll kill her,” he said with more determination.

"You'll tear out her heart," the reflection replied. His face seemed more like his brother's than his own.

“And you will devour it.”

Siva imagined Diana's lifeless body lying before his feet. He had to close his eyes, trying to stop himself from shaking.

He focused on that image and repeated those encouragements until he felt them sink in.

He walked out of the bathroom with a new plan to follow.

Chapter Text

Pedro was relieved to know that the night had passed without any problems. The use of belts was a test that the kid passed with flying colors. If she had wanted, she would have calmly released her ankles, but she had not done so, following their orders to perfection.

Sitting to her right, Pedro studied her carefully, taking advantage of the fact that she had fallen asleep. She was wearing the same sweatshirt he had seen on her the first day, the hood pulled over her head to cover her hair. Looking at her better, he thought she looked even younger than she was. If he hadn't read it in her file, he would have given her eighteen years. Perhaps her childish and disrespectful attitude made her appear smaller.

She was curled up, in a pose that Pedro imagined made her feel safe. Her head was lolling forward, bouncing with the movements of the car.

Pedro reached out a hand to push her to lean against the window. Muttering nonsensical phrases, the kid let him do it and pressed her forehead to the glass. Pedro's fingers lingered a few seconds longer on her temple, feeling the heat and the hardness of her bones underneath.

They left early in the morning and in six hours, albeit with some traffic, they had managed to enter Germany.

Before reaching the lake they had stopped at the apartment they had booked that same morning via an application on Diana's phone. They had stayed there for a short time, just long enough to observe the apartment, leave what they didn't need, and withdraw some cash to use in those days. Then they had left for their real destination.

That morning they had decided who would drive by drawing lots, and Pedro had not been chosen. As a result, he spent all hours in the car feeling bored. If he had at least been behind the wheel, he could have had a distraction from the thoughts that were tormenting him.

He glanced at the kid's phone, left in the empty seat between them. Music was pumping loudly through the headphones she hadn't removed from her ears for hours. Even when they had arrived at the apartment, he had kept them until Siva took them away without permission. That gesture had surprised even Pedro. The kid had looked at the boy with a hurt look.

Siva's behavior had been strange all morning. Pedro had noticed it when they went to have breakfast in a bar on the main street. All he had done was tell her to shut up or hurry up. Each time, the kid had responded by giving him a surprised and sad expression.

Pedro himself had begun to feel uncomfortable.

That change had seemed sudden and strange to him. He had looked at Ghost for an explanation, thinking that maybe something had happened during the night. But Ghost had continued to observe Siva and the kid with the same confused expression as the others.

What had made him change his attitude?

The only reason that pushed Pedro to look for an answer was purely logistical. If something happened between the two of them that the others didn't know about, it was essential to find out.

And, but he wouldn't admit it, he wasn't so cruel that he didn't care about the kid's feelings at all.

He sighed and looked away from her.

In boring moments like these, he would have given anything to have a phone. The first time he had met the lieutenant, she had warned him not to carry one with him and to only have cash, to avoid any kind of tracking.

Looking at the phone next to his thigh, he felt almost envious. How could the lieutenant be sure that no one would be able to trace them back through that device?

He looked outside the car, seeking distraction in the landscape they were driving through.

He had already been to Europe many times, but never to Germany.

However, having crossed other European states, it did not seem different than the rest.

They were traveling along a two-lane road, which ran along both sides of long expanses of green cultivations, fenced in by narrow rows of tall, dark trees. Since it was summer, most of the trees were green and full of leaves. The houses were few, far from each other, and long. Their appearance was ancient and Pedro imagined that they had been passed down from generation to generation.

He looked up at the sky. It was vast, blue, and with few clouds, promising a sunny, warm day. Maybe they wouldn't need to wear the jacket.

Since he had arrived in northern Europe, Pedro had not missed the searing heat of Central America at all. Nor the humidity.

He hoped that the next stop on their journey would be somewhere else quiet and cool.

When the roadway began to be surrounded by thick brush, Pedro realized that they were about to arrive. He changed position, stretching his legs.

He couldn't wait to get down and understand why they were there.

He met Yoo's gaze through the rearview mirror. He had been behind the wheel since they left the apartment and had driven without saying a word.

That eye contact didn't last long, Yoo was forced to return his eyes to the road, but it was enough for Pedro to remind him of the conversation they had had the previous night.

Yoo hadn't appreciated the rough ways in which Pedro had approached the kid when they had woken up. Pedro had tried to make him understand the state of great distress in which he had found himself due to their target.

Yoo had placed the entire blame on him for what had happened. “You could have woken us up,” he told him after Pedro pointed out that it wasn't his fault. Sleep had come suddenly, without him being able to control it.

Their argument got heated and continued for almost an hour. Spider had tried his best to calm them both down but had ended up getting animated himself.

Pedro hugged his chest and rubbed his teeth together. A change in the layout of the rooms was necessary because he was sure that he was on the verge of no longer being able to support Yoo and his constant forgetting who the team captain was.

He wouldn't have minded sleeping with their target. He imagined her reaction when he would tell her about the change in the organization. Would she make a fuss? Or would she accept without saying a word?

From the way Ghost had stormed to the car that morning and Siva's sudden grumpy behavior, Pedro thought it would be good for the three of them to part ways.

The ideal would have been to share the room with her and Oscar, but Pedro doubted that the others would allow it. Yoo would definitely try to stop him.

He tried to forget about him and imagined himself spending the night in the same bed as the kid and Oscar.

He raised his hips, adjusting his pants that had become too tight and uncomfortable.

Maybe he could use the excuse of not trusting her yet to tie her to them.

“Twenty more minutes and we're there,” Yoo announced, taking him out of his fantasy.

The kid gasped and opened her eyes suddenly. Pedro only noticed later that Ghost, sitting in front of her, had grabbed her ankle. She took off a earphones and blinked away the sleep. "Have we arrived?"

Ghost repeated for her what Yoo had said. Pedro kept his eye on Ghost's gloved hand, which continued to linger on the kid's ankle.

As if he had sensed Whiskey's gaze, Ghost let go of her and leaned back into his seat.

Soon they had to leave the asphalt road to take a more unstable one. Pedro held onto the support above his head, swinging along with the car.

The lake where the kid had taken them was not in a remote area, however unfrequented it might be. They stopped in a large, almost empty parking lot and Pedro quickly got out of the car. His gaze studied the environment around them, trying to locate the church that he had glimpsed between the treetops.

While he looked around, Yoo and Ghost reached one of the low buildings there to ask about the parking lot and the lake. Pedro read the huge white “tourist-info” sign on the small black building and wondered again what they were doing there.

The kid stretched next to him, closing her eyes and enjoying the clean air.

"And now?" Spider asked, moving closer to her.

The kid smiled carefreely. “I don't know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"You don't know?" Pedro repeated.

The kid's smile seemed to become more embarrassed. “I don't know what we need to do yet,” she replied, narrowing her eyes to study the nature around them. “Stop looking at me like I have all the answers.”

“I'm looking at you like you're a crazy person,” Spider told her, swaying in agitation.

“I accept it,” she giggled, putting her hands behind her back and continuing to move her curious eyes from one place to another.

"We could start by reaching the lake," Siva suggested.

"I think it's a good idea." The kid gave him a happy smile as if she was relieved to hear him use a normal tone, and Pedro clenched his fists, staring at them without understanding what the weight on his chest was.

Siva kept his gaze away from the kid, not returning her attitude and she pointed her chin down, a disappointed expression on her face.

When Yoo and Ghost returned to the car, together they decided to walk to the lake and plan their next steps there.

Since it was summer and late in the afternoon, they encountered few tourists on their path. The kid stood at the head of the group, walking quickly while her head remained pointed upwards. She looked at the nature they were walking through, at the dense trees and the lake barely visible beyond their branches, and Pedro looked at her, making sure she wouldn't escape them again.

He wouldn't let her escape a second time.

The kid stopped suddenly. Cocking her head to the side, she stared at the trees to their left.

The men surrounded her and Spider was about to ask her what she was doing. The kid stretched out a finger towards him, ordering him to be quiet by placing it on his lips. “I'm listening to Mother Nature,” she said. "Let me work in peace."

Spider grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from him. He set his jaw, keeping himself from speaking.

"This way." The kid started moving, dragging Spider, who was still holding her.

They entered the trees, careful where to put their feet. They stopped only in front of the waters of the lake. They reflected the blue color of the sky and Pedro leaned over the bank to try to see how deep they were.

They seemed cold.

The kid stared at the lake, paralyzing herself. Pedro studied her, unable to understand why she had tensed.

“So,” she murmured, swallowing agitatedly and giggling. “You won't like what I have to do.”

"Then don't do it," Spider cut her off, putting his hands on his hips and looking at her disapprovingly.

The kid frowned at him. “I didn't come all this way to back out!”

“What did She ask you to do?” Siva asked in a sharp tone.

The kid tried to compose herself. “I have to get into the lake.”

"That's all?" Yoo crouched down to examine the water.

From the kid's lips came a noise that Pedro would have interpreted as an attempt not to answer the question. “No,” she said. "I have to do things in the lake that you can't see."

“What exactly do you have to do?” Ghost demanded to know every detail.

Without looking at him, the kid began to undress. "Stuff."

She took off her black sweatshirt and handed it to Pedro.

“The problem,” she added, bending down to remove her shoes, “is that you have to stay here and do nothing.”

“Why is that a problem?” Yoo looked up at her.

The kid opened her eyes wide and hesitated. She took off her shoes one at a time and placed her socks inside. Pedro noticed that Spider's gaze had fallen on her toes, which the kid was wiggling. “I might stay in the lake for a while.”

When she doubled over to take off her pants, Pedro looked up at the sky. He heard her whining softly that she was losing her balance, but he didn't offer to help her.

More clothes were placed on his hands.

When he looked back at her, the kid was wearing only a t-shirt that wasn't long enough to hide her underwear.

She took a step forward, placing her fingers in the water of the lake.

She cursed out loud. "It's freezing!" she shouted, clenching her fists. "Obviously… In my life, nothing ever is easy."

She advanced into the lake, risking losing her balance at least three times.

When the water reached her chest, she turned to face them. “Please don't come into the lake,” she said, her voice trembling. "Don't call the police. I will be OK."

Her frightened gaze moved to the center of the lake. Her teeth sank into her lower lip and Pedro was infected by her concern. He clutched the clothes she had given him. "Be careful," he told her, receiving a shy smile in gratitude.

The kid advanced further and allowed the water to reach up to her neck.

She turned around one last time. “I'll be back,” she promised.

Then, she opened her mouth to take a deep breath and her head disappeared beneath the dark surface of the lake.

Three hours passed before she emerged.

Chapter Text

The five mercenaries only lasted ten minutes without panicking.

Oscar was the first to enter the water. If Ghost hadn't stopped him, dragging him back to shore, he would surely have dived in to look for her.

A normal human being could not survive that long without breathing.

Diana had drowned.

Soon they would see her corpse floating on the blue surface. Just thinking about it made Oscar feel his insides turn. He put a hand to his mouth to hold back his vomit.

It didn't make sense for him to feel that way. He hated her.

With all of himself.

She was an unpleasant girl, too spoiled, incapable of listening to the people who were trying to protect her. And crazy.

Every time she opened her mouth to snap at what Spider or the others said to her, he just wanted to take off a sock and stick it between her lips. Not being able to do so, he was forced to listen to her and listen and listen incessantly. Even when she wasn't speaking, Spider could hear her. Her breathing, her small movements, the sound of her footsteps on the ground.

Diana was loud.

And for hours, however, Oscar couldn't hear her.

The silence that the girl had left behind was driving him crazy.

"She promised that she would return," Siva repeated for the third time, watching the other men become agitated.

Oscar pointed to the lake. "She's gone!" he shouted, following with expletives in both English and Spanish.

“Maybe the lake was just an excuse to get rid of us,” Whiskey surmised, looking at the trees behind them. "She may have dived just to escape our sight and reappeared on a shore we can't see from here."

"No!" Siva defended her. "She is not gone. She was told to come here and here she is."

Ghost took a step towards him, using his size to intimidate him. "How do you know it?"

Siva's face paled and he seemed to realize that he had spoken too much.

Oscar also advanced towards him. “Is there something you're not telling us?”

Siva's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed agitatedly. "No," he lied. His gaze found the silty soil beneath their feet. “I would never keep anything from you.”

Did he think he was surrounded by idiots?

Yoo placed his hands on Siva's shoulders, squeezing them tightly. Oscar was reminded of the way he had treated and hit the stocky man who had made their girl uncomfortable.

Siva's frightened gaze moved from Yoo to Whiskey, who in turn had moved closer to surround him.

“Siva,” Yoo called him. His lips were curved upwards in a malevolent smile. "Speak."

Siva opened his mouth and his lips trembled, without releasing any sound.

The scream that interrupted the calm around the lake did not belong to him.

All five turned toward the center of the water, staring in amazement at the tiny head that was just visible on the blue surface.

"Diana," Siva murmured. It took him a second to free himself from the men around him and dive into the water.

The girl screamed again and Oscar's whole body went limp. He also ran towards the shore, throwing himself into the water. He didn't advance very far, stopping to look for her again. His eyes stared at her tiny form with desperation.

Siva had started energetically swimming towards her. He called out to her, telling her that he was coming to save her.

The girl's response was more a scream of frustration than terror.

Oscar and the four others anxiously waited for Siva to reach her and bring her back to them. As soon as they were close enough to her, Oscar lunged towards her, offering both arms to help her out of the water. To get her upright, Oscar had to use all his strength, as if he were dealing with a dead weight. His work became easier only when Siva took her from behind.

The girl groaned in pain.

Oscar looked at her with careful, frightened eyes.

“What the fuck happened?”

Diana was bleeding from the nose and had a busted lip. Her left hand was pressed to her hip and her legs were limp and bruised. “I tried,” she whimpered, letting herself go into Oscar's arms.

“I got you,” he whispered, holding her close.

Whiskey grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. "What happened?" he repeated, studying her angrily.

“Looks like you fought someone,” Ghost said. Among all of them, he was the only one who had not approached her.

Diana's broken lips split into a bloody smile. "Something like that."

"You lost." Oscar could see Ghost's eyebrows furrowing under his ski balaclava.

“Clearly,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Tell us what happened,” Yoo demanded, looking her up and down.

Diana's eyelids were half closed and felt heavy. "I didn't finish the challenge," she replied in a small voice.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow.

Oscar tried to push the others away from her and picked her up. He adjusted her in his grip, making sure not to let her fall. “We're taking you to the hospital.”

Diana shook her head. "No…"

“You're hurt,” Whiskey reminded her. “You need to get treatment.”

Diana closed her eyes and moaned again. “I can't go to the hospital.”

"Why?" Yoo asked.

Diana gave him a desperate look. “They'll find me if I go there.”

"Who?" Ghost shouted.

Diana whimpered, squirming in Oscar's arms, who couldn't help but hold her tighter. “You were right,” she admitted, and her face tightened with pain. “She said there are other people after me now.” She stopped to catch her breath. “I don't want anyone else to die.”

She clutched her side and gasped.

Oscar sought the gazes of his teammates. None of them seemed to understand anything, but the voice with which she had begged them was too desperate to ignore.

Whiskey brushed a few strands of wet hair off her forehead. The gentle contact seemed to calm her. “Let's get you somewhere safe, okay?”

Diana nodded weakly. "Do you promise?" she murmured.

Whiskey's hand caressed her cheek and he seemed to admire her for a few seconds. “Promise.”

Oscar moved the hand he was holding Diana's back with to grip her shoulder better. He pulled her closer, urging her to press her head against his chest.

Whiskey's eyes snapped to Oscar's, and he met them angrily. Whiskey's gaze was dark and hard, and the possessiveness Oscar saw in it annoyed him.

He held Diana's unconscious body against him, hoping that Whiskey would understand that he couldn't get too close.

He wasn't going to let Whiskey ruin everything because he didn't know how to keep it in his pants.

Yoo grabbed Diana's clothes and started walking towards the trees. “Let's go,” he ordered.

Ghost reached out to Oscar, stopping him. “We can't go back to the car with her like this,” he pointed out. “We would attract too much attention.”

Nobody objected.

All five of them teamed up to put Diana's pants and shoes back on, they even changed her soaked t-shirt. Oscar clenched his jaw as he discovered more bruises on her torso.

"What did she fight against to become like this?" Yoo wondered, putting the sweatshirt on her.

Oscar turned and Ghost helped him put Diana on his back. When he was sure he had a secure hold on her, he stood up and started walking.

No one answered Yoo's question.

At least another million were created in Oscar's head. Where was she for all those hours? Why hadn't she returned to them sooner? They could have helped her and prevented her from hurting as much as she was.

They quickly returned to the car. Oscar had the others help him lay Diana down on the back seats. Siva offered his thighs as a pillow. Oscar accepted, biting his tongue so as not to reveal how much he hated having to leave her in someone else's care.

He got in front, standing next to Ghost who had offered to drive.

The apartment they had booked was less than an hour from the lake. Oscar was relieved that they had listened to Diana for once. She had insisted on booking it for three nights and Oscar couldn't help but wonder if she already knew they would stay there for more than one day.

Throughout the journey, he kept turning over to watch her sleep. Siva was stroking her hair gently.

Oscar regretted not finding himself in that place.

When they finally arrived at the apartment, Oscar tried to rush towards the back seats to pick up the still-sleeping girl and carry her himself. He was, however, preceded by Siva.

Clenching his fists, Oscar followed the others into the apartment.

Siva went straight to one of the rooms to place Diana in the bed. Everyone gathered around her to better analyze her condition. Yoo sat on the edge of the mattress and slowly lifted her shirt to look at the huge red hematoma on her side. It felt like a man had punched her, but it didn't appear to be internal bleeding.

“We need to take some medicine,” Yoo declared, pulling down her shirt. His expression expressed the concern of a parent. “Some cream for bruises and some painkillers.” His gaze rose to Ghost. "You're the only one who knows a little German. You should go to the pharmacy and look for what we need."

“We need some ice too,” Whiskey said. With his arms crossed and his legs spread, he was gazing contritely into Diana's calm face.

"We have to check if there is already something in the freezer, otherwise one of us has to go to the nearest supermarket" replied Yoo.

"Is there something else we need?" Ghost asked.

"No."

Nodding, Ghost set off on a mission.

"We must also prepare some food for when she wakes up," Siva pointed out. He was pacing back and forth in the room. “And have some water.”

Yoo looked up at Whiskey and Oscar. "You think about it."

Oscar glared at him. "Why do we have to be the ones to go?" he asked, not keeping even a bit of the acidity from his voice.

Yoo kept an impassive expression. He stood up and advanced towards them, pausing to look at Whiskey the longest. “Two of us must stay with her.”

Whiskey shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He cocked his head to the side and smiled wickedly. “You and the twig that's shaking back there can go.”

Siva made a strangled noise and stopped suddenly, offended by that epithet.

Yoo lifted his chin, clenching his jaw.

The atmosphere was filling with tension but Oscar, although he had sensed the danger, decided not to do anything to stop what was happening, being also annoyed by Yoo's behavior.

Whiskey was the captain and if he decided that Yoo and Siva had to go and buy what they needed, then Yoo and Siva had to run.

“Because I don't trust leaving her with you,” Yoo admitted.

Oscar had to close his eyes, unable to believe that he had actually said that out loud.

Whiskey, however, advanced on Yoo. His smile was openly challenging the other. “Do you have a problem with my ways, soldier?”

“Yes,” Yoo replied, not hesitating in the slightest to face him. “And I don't think I'm the only one.” His gaze shifted to Oscar who immediately thought back to what he had felt seeing Whiskey move Diana's hair just an hour earlier. “Maybe we should finally vote to choose our captain.”

Whiskey looked like he was about to lose control and hit Yoo. His wrinkles were pulling at his expression, barely holding back the disturbing emotions he was feeling.

A soft, guttural moan caught their attention. All four turned to Diana, who had stood on her side and was squeezing the blanket she was lying on with one hand.

Siva rushed towards her, sat next to her head, and began to massage her hair. “Shh, it's okay,” he whispered. Within seconds, Diana was calm and still again.

Yoo shot one last warning look at Whiskey. “Go.”

Having to give up, Oscar left the room. He slammed the door behind him with such force that the noise reverberated throughout the apartment.

Chapter Text

Siva's plan was failing miserably.

He had gone from behaving aggressively towards Diana to massaging her head while she was sleeping. She still hadn't recovered, even though hours had passed since she had left the lake.

Siva had no idea what had happened to her. When Diana had submerged, Siva had closed his eyes and strained his other senses until he could hear her heartbeat. A sound that had suddenly disappeared, reappearing only three hours later.

He believed that in the depths of the lake, there was a natural portal, that allowed Diana to reach another world, where the Goddess had arranged her first challenge.

Whatever she had faced here, it had made a mess of her. If it had not been for the other men, Siva would have healed her immediately. The bruises on Diana's body looked painful, but Siva could treat them easily and calmly. If he had done so, however, he would have attracted the attention of the others who would have resumed the interrogation from a few hours earlier. Unable to arouse further suspicion, Siva limited himself to using a minimal part of his power.

He worked mostly on the smaller bruises, hoping the other men would forget they had seen them.

The huge hematoma Diana had on her side would have required at least a week of normal healing, but Siva could feel the girl's body working faster than other humans were capable of. He thought it was due to the Blessing of the Goddess. Or she also knew how to control blood. Before coming to Earth, Siva hadn't been able to find much information about Diana, other than the Blessing she had received from the Goddess He still had no idea about the type of power she could use.

Ghost entered the room for the third time within an hour. He did nothing. He simply approached and studied Diana's sleeping and calm face. He glanced at Siva, who was sitting on the ground with one hand lost in the girl's hair, and left.

Siva closed his eyes and sighed again. The apartment they were in was too small for all of them. He wasn't used to having to share so little space with all those people. His house was a huge and spacious building, with long empty spaces between one room and another. Adapting wasn't going to be easy.

Diana writhed and groaned in pain. Siva was quick to use his power to calm her.

The room they took Diana to was the only one with a double bed and a private bathroom. Siva looked away from the girl, glancing absently at the closed bathroom door. Spider had been in there for almost twenty minutes and Siva couldn't understand what he was doing. The water had stopped flowing for at least five minutes and Siva imagined the man standing in front of the mirror while he spoke to his reflection. Imagining the kind of conversations he was having with himself made Siva laugh.

The other men were scattered throughout the rest of the apartment. Yoo was cooking for everyone; Ghost, when he wasn't coming in to check on Diana, was lying in one of the other two rooms, each with single beds; and Whiskey was on the kitchen balcony smoking. Worry had filled the entire apartment, straining the air between them.

Siva knew that they would remain in that state until Diana recovered.

Their concern was justified. Their job was to protect her and they had failed.

Siva looked at the closed eyelids of his prey. With no annoying eyes on him, he could have killed her then and there and blamed what had happened in the lake.

He decided not to do it because he wasn't sure that the others would believe him and that he would be able to escape. And that idea seemed petty. Diana was not at her full strength. Siva had a weak and fragile girl in front of him.

He wondered if his siblings could be cruel enough to take advantage of Diana's weakness. Knowing his sister and how much she was attached to fairness, she would have immediately challenged Diana in an open battle in which she would have defeated her and forced her to surrender. His brother would have been more subtle in his tactics than her. He would have gained Diana's trust, he would have lied to her, begged her with a desperate expression to give him her heart, and then he would have killed her quickly.

Siva's hand stopped moving. He stared at the girl with wide eyes.

He was tired of not knowing what to do.

He looked up at the ceiling. It was a white square with a large chandelier in the center that hung over the bed. Siva hoped that it would fall and kill Diana, thus taking that burden away from him.

Yoo gave a light knock on the door they had left open. "How is it going?" He was wearing a white apron and blue plastic gloves, Siva thought that he had found them somewhere inside the kitchen. His face was listless and his eyes tired.

Siva resumed caressing the girl. "She'll be fine," he said. "She just needs to rest."

Yoo took a few steps into the room and his head rocked forward. "What about you?" Siva's skeptical eyes snapped to him, meeting Yoo's calm black ones. “You know, don't you, that you don't have to stay by her side the whole time?” His hands dangled near his hips and his attention shifted to Diana. "Let her sleep and come to eat."

Siva shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

He hoped Yoo would understand that he wouldn't let him take him away from her. He would have been by her side all night without ever closing an eye if he had to.

“Siva.”

Siva didn't look away. "I am fine."

"Come. To. eat."

He directed all his anger at Yoo through a look. An instant would have been enough for him to destroy a pathetic Earthling like him. He would steal all the blood in his veins, which he would use to fuel his magic. Then, he would kill the others. No longer having to worry about them and the mission, he would take care of Diana. He would be gone before she could open her eyes and he would never see her again.

Yoo gave him the same look he had often given Diana and for a second Siva thought it was his father in front of him. He immediately distanced himself from that stupid image. Yoo looked nothing like him, physically or temperamentally. But the tone he had used was the same one Siva had heard countless times when he was little and his father scolded him.

Reluctantly, he stood up and let go of Diana's head. His fingers trembled as if they were missing her.

“She's going to be fine,” Yoo promised, inviting Siva to follow him into the kitchen.

Siva sat at the table and waited for the others to arrive. Boredly, he noticed that Yoo and Whiskey had occupied two different ends of the table and were still aggressively facing each other. Not wanting to waste time with their pathetic and childish arguments, he focused on the food.

The earthly diet was not much different from what Siva was accustomed to. The ingredients had different names and the recipes were new to him, but he was slowly discovering familiar tastes. The potatoes, for example, were nothing like the Sönigs in his world, but the taste was the same. Even the water tasted different. In his world, the minerals present inside made it sweet and nourishing, while the earthly one seemed poor. Siva could not have found any other adjective to describe it.

They ate in silence. Strangers, forced together, who have no connection to each other.

Siva wondered if it would always be like this between them. Or if one day they would start to tolerate each other's presence, maybe even trust and appreciate each other. It seemed like an impossible future.

Silence was still a better option than constant arguments, but he wasn't sure it was worse than becoming friends with other men. His mission had to take priority and he could not fraternize with enemies. It would only complicate everything.

They hadn't finished their meal yet when a scream shook the house. They immediately got to their feet and rushed into the room where Diana was.

Her muffled screams continued to spread throughout the apartment and Siva felt the pain they were spreading.

Diana's back was arched upwards and she was squirming. Her right hand was squeezing the shirt in the area above her heart, while her other was gripping the sheets.

"What is happening?" one of them asked.

The men surrounded the bed and seemed ready to restrain Diana's inconsistent movements. Siva had to make space between them, pushing them away with abrupt gestures.

“She's lost in a nightmare,” he shouted, trying to drown out the girl's whimpers.

He placed a hand on her contracted forehead, finding that she was breaking out in a cold sweat. Diana became agitated. On her face, it was difficult to distinguish tears from beads of sweat.

“It's okay,” he told her, trying to sound reassuring. "You're safe."

Those words didn't seem to calm her down. Diana shook her head and pursed her lips. “Please, please, please,” she repeated without breathing.

"What?" Spider asked her, placing both hands on the mattress. “Should we wake her up?”

Siva tried to concentrate on using his power, but he had been awake for too many hours and had already used up much of his energy. Having other men around and feeling their overwhelming emotions didn't help him at all.

"No," he ordered. “Step back and leave her alone.” His voice sounded harsher than he intended.

"Don't do it," Diana whimpered. “Please stop.”

Siva pressed her forehead harder. He wished he could read her mind to find out what she was dreaming about. Who was she addressing? What were they doing to her?

Siva's breathing quickened and he had to close his eyes before he lost control and used his other power. In that case, it would have been impossible for him to hide his true identity from others.

Controlling his breathing, he tried to do the same to Diana's. He slowed her pulse and relaxed her muscles. He moved his consciousness within her body, quickly finding the receptors that he needed to antagonize to soothe her.

When he exited her body, he sat on the ground, suddenly deprived of all energy.

He reopened his eyes and stared at Diana's calm body. Her screaming had stopped and she was sleeping again.

Siva allowed himself a sigh of relief. He put a hand to his forehead, which he massaged, sweat filling his fingertips.

“What did you do to her?”

The others were staring at him intently. Their expressions ranged from suspicion to fear.

Siva forced himself to stand. It had been foolish of him to think that he would escape this moment.

He looked at the girl lying in bed and tried anyway. "Nothing," he used his flattest tone. “What was I supposed to do to her?” he asked, searching their gazes. "Magic doesn't exist, does it? And the voices she heard aren't real." It was almost too tiring to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter.

He paused to look into Spider's brown eyes. His body was tense and alarmed as if a ferocious predator or some monster was in front of him. Siva thought his reaction was more than appropriate.

If only they had known the truth, they would not have walked near him so easily and carefree. They wouldn't dare order him around and treat him like a kid.

They would have bowed to the ground, begging him to spare them.

Siva walked past them to return to the kitchen. "Should we eat?" he asked in an amused tone.

Those men had a thousand-year-old assassin next to them, who had fought battles in which they wouldn't have survived even five minutes, and they didn't even know it. They were lucky that he had granted them his magnanimity.

Chapter Text

Yoo was walking in a dark and silent house, where everything seemed still. His feet, extremely slow as if restrained by the air, were touching the black floor without making any sound.

He hated that place.

The corridors of his maternal grandparents' house were oppressive, narrow, and long, without windows and with few lights. Yoo had tried to turn them on, but the bulbs remained off.

He had to reach his room, which was on the other side of the corridor, but to do so he had to pass by that room.

Yoo hated that part of the house more than anything. If he could, he always tried to avoid passing by. At night, however, he was forced to cross that cursed corridor every time he had to go to bed. He had tried to convince his grandparents to allow him to sleep elsewhere, but they had insisted.

He licked his dry lips, trying to stay calm and not listen to the voice of fear.

He advanced slowly, making sure to always keep an eye on the door.

It was still closed.

He pushed past it, holding his breath, as if that were enough to keep what was inside from hearing him.

As soon as he got through it safely, Yoo smiled in relief. In front of him, he had a few meters to overcome and then he would be safe.

A creak behind him halted his advance. Yoo's eyes widened and his body froze in terror.

He knew that sound too well.

He didn't want to turn, but his head did so automatically.

The door to the room had opened by itself. Yoo felt his stomach rebel and his mind told him to run, but his body remained still, forcing him to hear the sounds coming from inside.

“Jichul,” a rasping voice said.

Yoo had started to hate his name the first time he had entered his grandparents' house. That voice had called him, inviting him to join them. When he had done it, when he had walked into that room as a four-year-old, he had been trapped there for hours, his cries for help lost.

A thick, heavy darkness seemed to spread from the room. It spread down the hall, reaching Yoo's feet, and he felt his legs trembling.

He wanted to scream and wake up the rest of the house. Maybe his grandparents would finally see what inhabited their own house and believe him.

A skeletal, gray hand grabbed the doorframe and Yoo felt a cry catch in his throat, as if someone had put something in his mouth to stop him from speaking.

He waited anxiously for the ghost to leave the room.

He knew what would happen. They would grab him and bring him back in there. As soon as the door closed behind him, other ghosts would come out and start screaming, breaking his eardrums, and running through him. Every time it happened, his body was filled with excruciating pain that no doctor had ever been able to explain.

Over time, after years of receiving harassing looks from people who didn't believe him, Yoo had understood that confessing to being able to see ghosts was a waste of time and energy. They would have thought he was crazy, making his life difficult.

The ghost poked its head. Yoo, before meeting his terrifying gaze, closed his eyelids, preferring to escape elsewhere with his mind. He imagined himself at the seaside, sitting on the beach while he built a sandcastle. The spirits could not harm him when he did not allow them to terrorize him.

Warm hands grabbed him from behind. Suddenly, Yoo was able to move. He squirmed, fighting the force that was dragging him backward.

"Shut up, you idiot! It's me!" his older brother's voice was an unexpected and beautiful melody.

Yoo looked up to meet his familiar face. The tears fell uncontrollably and he allowed his brother to carry him to safety. They entered Yoo's room and his brother closed the door before the ghost could reach them.

"You're safe now," he told him, cupping his face in his hands.

Yoo cried with joy. He rushed to hug his brother, pressing his face into his chest to try to forget what had just happened. His brother's hands came to rest around his shoulders.

At first, it was a comforting squeeze which, combined with the gentle voice of his brother who was whispering reassuring phrases, calmed him.

The change was sudden.

The fingers on Yoo's shoulders became longer and narrower, like bones devoid of flesh. His brother held him against himself in a suffocating grip.

Yoo tried to squirm and looked up to look at the face of the child who had just saved him. What had happened in those few seconds to change him?

He met his older brother's white eyes and terror returned to paralyze Yoo's body.

His brother's eyes belonged to a dead man, the iris had vanished and his pupil was tiny, the size of a pin. “You let me die,” he accused.

“No…” a weak and pathetic objection.

“Yes,” he insisted. "It was you."

Yoo flailed harder, trying to push that monster away from him.

"It's all your fault!"

"It's not true!"

No matter how much he tried to fight the nightmare, his brother's grip was too tight to escape.

Lying on the mattress, Yoo continued to wriggle and turn. The realization that it was a dream slowly dawned on him, growing stronger the more he screamed into the nightmare.

When he finally woke up, his body jerked forward, sitting up.

He brought his hands to his face, hiding it, while his body vibrated with fear and the adrenaline that had accumulated inside him.

One of his hands moved towards his chest, searching for the familiar shape of the talisman. When he felt it, he managed to calm down a little.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and he looked around, wondering if anyone had heard his screams. The figures of his teammates were still supine and calm. The sound of their breathing was the only sound present.

The previous night, another discussion had arisen to decide who had to sleep with Diana. In the end, it was proposed to move all the mattresses to the room with the double bed and Yoo ended up sleeping on the floor.

The watch on Yoo's wrist read six in the morning. He could have closed his eyes and slept a little longer. Doubting that he would be able to go back to sleep, he decided to get up, at least to stretch his limbs.

Before leaving the room, his gaze moved to the double bed, looking for the figure of his target. Realizing that there was no sign of her, he felt the onset of panic. Unable to move, he only moved his eyes to find her. Nothing was missing in the room and he didn't seem to notice anything strange. As soon as he felt able to move, he reached the bathroom, threw open the door, and turned on the light. Nothing.

Had she run away again while they were sleeping?

He didn't want to think about it.

He ran out of the room, careful not to step on the mattresses where his teammates were sleeping. The kitchen and living room of the apartment were combined into one large room. Yoo analyzed every piece of furniture and corner.

The kitchen was illuminated by sunlight, which was entering through the balcony door left open. Yoo was sure that they had closed it the previous evening. He approached, moving carefully and cursing himself for leaving the gun in the bedroom.

He reached out to the white curtains covering the door and pulled them with a snap, revealing the girl who was sitting on the balcony.

Diana stared at him, surprised.

Yoo closed his eyes and gripped the curtains tighter, using it to anchor himself to something as the agitation left his body.

He looked back at his target and opened the door a little more so he could get out. “How long have you been awake?” he asked, eyeing her for any clue of her physical condition.

Diana was sitting on the floor, her back resting against the wall and her legs bent towards her chest. She looked at the buildings across the street and clasped her hands. "I think an hour."

Yoo sat down on the ground in front of her and took a deep breath. “You should have woken us up.”

His target shrugged. “I didn't mean to disturb you,” she said, then adding jokingly, “You look like little angels when you sleep.”

Yoo cracked a smile. If she could joke, it meant she was feeling not too bad. He wanted to know anyway. "How do you feel?"

“Like usual,” she replied, pulling her legs closer to her chest to give him more room to stretch his own. “I've felt worse.”

Yoo raised his eyebrows, doubting it. “You fainted,” he pointed out.

She smiled sheepishly. "I was exhausted, it wasn't because of the pain. Really. Compared to the first time I broke a bone, it was nothing.”

“What put you in that state?” he asked, suspecting she wouldn't answer.

"Stuff."

He stopped insisting. He rested his head against the wall and relaxed. The morning wind was fresh and soothing, Yoo allowed himself that moment of peace.

“How come you got up so early?”

Her calm eyes were studying him carefully. "I had a nightmare," he admitted without shame. Nightmares were frequent, they followed and tortured him since he was little, Yoo had to learn to live with them.

"You too?" Diana began to giggle.

Yoo nodded. “Do you want to talk about yours?”

Diana looked away. "No."

Yoo bent his right leg upwards and looked for a more comfortable position. If she didn't want to talk to him about it he couldn't force her to. "Do you feel like going back to the lake to try again?" He was still too asleep to be able to come up with a better argument.

“I don't know,” she confessed, clutching her legs and looking down. Her expression didn't hide how fragile she was feeling and Yoo felt the need to comfort her as he would have done with his daughter.

But Diana was not Sooyun.

“You don't have to do this,” he told her, hoping to make her feel a little better.

“I do,” she insisted.

"Why?" Yoo couldn't help but ask her that question. “Why are you doing this?”

Again, he didn't expect her to answer him. Yoo tensed, preparing to receive a tantrum or some aggressive statement like the ones she usually threw at Ghost or Spider.

Surprising him, Diana shrugged her shoulders and cracked a smile full of sadness. "Because I'm tired."

"Tired?" Yoo couldn't connect that word with the little information he had gathered about her.

Diana nodded, laughing. Yoo couldn't understand what she found funny in that conversation. “Yes,” she hissed. "Tired. Of seeing people die and…" She tried to express what she wanted to say using her hands, but Yoo couldn't understand what she was trying to say. “I'm tired of living this way: constantly terrified that something bad will happen again.”

Yoo didn't have time to process what he had just heard.

“I don't know if I'll succeed in what I'm trying to do,” she continued. "But I have to try, right? I owe it to the dead and the living, not just to myself."

Hearing her talk about deaths, Yoo's skin crawled.

Perhaps the impression Yoo had was correct and she too could see ghosts like him. He didn't dare ask her, but he told himself that he would try to convince her to go to South Korea so that he could get her a personal talisman.

He ran a hand through his messy hair.

For a few minutes, they remained silent. Yoo found nothing to talk about and he allowed himself to study the still-sleeping city. Their apartment was on the third floor of a five-story building. It was in a quiet area and although the sun had already risen, Yoo had only counted three cars passing on the street below them. He hoped that the days ahead were as peaceful as that moment.

“Do you often have nightmares?”

Yoo was surprised that Diana broke the silence. “Yes,” he replied, deciding not to pursue the matter further. "You?"

"Often," she explained. Her cheek rested on her bent knees. "Lately I've had one at least once a week. Sometimes, I have two on the same night, and some weeks I have happy dreams."

Yoo licked his lips and looked away. He wasn't used to having the kind of conversations where he talked about his nightmares without filters. When he was married he had tried to confide in his wife, but she had never been able to understand him. Every time he had sought comfort in her presence, she had given it to him. Yet he had always felt at fault as if he were disturbing their peace with his sick mind. Even though his ex-wife had never expressed it in words, it was clear, in her look, her expression, her tone and attitude, that she was judging him. Yoo was forty years old, how dare he still not be able to feel well? He should have forgotten everything he had ever experienced and lived like a normal person.

“After a while, it becomes easier to manage them,” he told her. “You learn to get out of them before they get too bad.”

After all, if he thought about it, he didn't blame his wife for leaving him. Yoo was complicated, disastrous, and incapable of giving her the normality she wanted.

“I doubt I can figure out how to get out of mine,” she continued. Yoo looked at her face. Her expression was not troubled, on the contrary, talking about her nightmares seemed to relax her. "I feel trapped, can you understand? As if I were forced to watch a horror film until the end credits. I can't get up, I can't look away until the dream is over."

Yoo understood very well how she felt. “It's not easy, but as the years go by it will get better.” He knew he was being inconsistent and unfair to her. He himself still struggled to manage his dreams, yet he was trying to convince her that she could do it.

Maybe a part of him hoped it was true. Not only for her but also for himself.

Diana hid her face behind her legs. “I don't want to continue living like this for another few years.” From her voice, he understood how desperate she was.

Yoo clenched his fists, feeling a wave of anger pass through him.

Diana was not like him. She still had a hope of escaping that life and regaining some normality. Her mind still had a hope of being protected and not becoming like Yoo's.

They just had to get rid of the man who wanted to harm her.

“Tell us his name,” he ordered, looking her straight in the eyes. “We will find him for you and kill him.”

Diana remained silent, watching him carefully. Yoo stared at her intently, trying to make her understand that his intentions were serious. All it took was one word from her and he would do it. He would travel the entire world to find that man and kill him for her. He would have freed her and allowed her to live normally.

Diana seemed to think about it. Then, her eyes fell into the space between them. “No,” she said, chuckling. Yoo frowned at her, not quite understanding. “Even if I told you, you would end up dying needlessly.”

“I've killed a lot of people, Diana,” he confessed, still looking into her eyes. "I think I'm capable of killing another one."

His statement seemed to leave her at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again and shook her head. “Not him,” she whispered, scratching her red nose. "You won't be able to kill him."

Yoo was getting nervous. How fucking hard could it be to get rid of the man who was tormenting her? Who was he? Was he so powerful that he was untouchable?

“Have you tried it yet?” he asked, annoyed.

Diana raised her eyebrows. “If I have already tried?” She laughed as if Yoo had made a joke. "No, it would be a useless fight. I'm not strong enough." She covered her mouth with her hand. “Not yet at least.”

Yoo wanted to ask her what she had meant. He started to speak, but the balcony door was opened, attracting their attention.

Ghost stared down at them. "Am I disturbing you?" he asked in a tone that Yoo would have described as jealous.

“Always,” their target replied, standing up. She advanced towards the door, trying to get back into the apartment.

Ghost blocked her path.

"What?" she snapped, visibly annoyed by his behavior. “Are you disappointed I didn't run away?”

Ghost narrowed his eyes and without another word, spun around and walked away.

Muttering phrases in Italian that Yoo couldn't understand, Diana left him alone on the balcony. Yoo was left with his own thoughts plaguing him.

Chapter Text

Oscar studied her skeptically, unable to believe that she had actually proposed it. What was going through that empty little head? Definitely, nothing good.

The girl smiled at them, baring her teeth. A smile that Oscar didn't know whether to define as crazy or happy.

"It's a brilliant idea!" she insisted, spreading her arms.

Yoo filled the girl's glass with water. "No, it isn't."

They were having lunch and were gathered around the kitchen table. The girl was sitting to Yoo's right and next to Siva. Oscar, who was in front of Siva, could only see her obliquely and from what he could deduce from her expression, she actually seemed to believe that going to a nightclub was a good idea.

"We're not here to have fun," Whiskey declared. He was holding onto the table with one hand while rocking slightly in his chair.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Listen to me.” She turned to get a better look at Whiskey. “At the moment, I am unable to go back to the lake and do that stuff again,” she waved a hand without explaining further. "And after yesterday, I'm feeling like shit. Going out for an evening (I'm only asking for one evening!) might be what I need." Her gaze shifted to seek the support of the others. “I have to forget about everything and pretend to be a normal girl.”

Normal girls didn't propose to go to the disco together with the five mercenaries who had to protect them from dangerous threats. But Diana Chiara Spina was anything but normal, this was now clear to everyone. Well, except maybe to her.

Even though she wasn't receiving any support, Diana continued to persist. "If you think about it for a moment, it's a great way to get to know each other better and establish a friendly relationship between us. Huh?”

Her hopeful eyes searched Whiskey and Yoo's for longer. Oscar was almost proud of her for being able to understand that those two were the leaders of the group and that she could use their rivalry to her advantage. At the same time, he felt annoyed that she wasn't seeking his support before anyone else's.

He felt his pride hurt at not being taken into consideration.

Whiskey sighed and met Yoo's gaze across the table. The two men seemed to communicate silently. The girl continued to move her gaze from one to the other.

Yoo closed his eyes, keeping them from seeing him as he rolled them. "We can stay for a short time, but we won't go to a nightclub. There are too many people and we risk getting into trouble."

The girl clenched a fist in victory.

"Do you promise you'll behave like a good girl?" Whiskey teased.

Her smile went from ear to ear. "Very, very good. Best good girl you've ever had."

Oscar wondered if she did it on purpose. She had to be aware of the effect that certain behaviors or phrases of hers had on them.

Ghost stepped forward, resting his elbows on the table around his empty plate. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Don't say that, Ghosty,” the girl taunted, her smile flickering. "We're going to have a lot of fun." She bit the side of her lip and cocked her head to the side. "I promise you that I will make this night unforgettable."

Oscar looked up at the ceiling and blew out a gust of air. Diana was doing it on purpose. Now he was certain of it. She knew she was attractive and that she was surrounded by men who didn't often receive physical contact. She was playing with their emotions, exploiting to her advantage the clause that prevented them from touching her for sexual purposes.

It had to be all a tactic.

Which, unfortunately for them, was working.

Oscar quickly adjusted his pants. “Will you dress up for us, Diana?” he asked her, barely holding back a mischievous smile.

The question seemed to catch her by surprise. She looked down and scratched her nose.

Her embarrassment only worsened the state Oscar found himself in.

“I didn't bring any nice clothes,” she said, shrugging, and taking a sip of water.

Oscar looked at her neck, imagining what it would be like to hold it in the palm of his hand.

If when he woke up that morning, someone had told him that in a few hours, he would be thinking those kinds of thoughts about her, he would have laughed. And yet there he was, finding relief in imagining himself having sex with that spoiled and unpleasant little girl.

In the end, it was all about carnal desire and no physical contact. If the context had been different, he would never have found himself thinking such thoughts about her.

A kick against his calf brought him out of his fantasies. Oscar found Whiskey's hard gaze. He glared back, annoyed. She had started it and he had simply responded with the same energy.

"Maybe we should go shopping" he proposed, searching the girl's gaze. “So you can stop thinking about the lake and act like a normal girl.” Oscar wondered if his mocking tone was as obvious as he wanted it to be.

Yoo gave him a glare that Oscar decided to ignore, keeping his focus on her.

The girl frowned and seemed to think about it. Her expression relaxed and she raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening as if she had just made a realization. “Omg! I think this is the first time you've said something intelligent, you know?” she said, giggling.

Oscar felt his smile falter.

“Let's go shopping so I can buy you some decent clothes to wear. What do you think about it, hum?" she continued to make fun of him.

Oscar regretted ever thinking of her that way. She didn't even deserve to be touched by him.

“We're not going shopping,” Yoo concluded, sounding exasperated.

Oscar met the girl's still amused eyes. He had to admit that she wasn't stupid. “What a shame,” she murmured, looking away from him.

Whiskey stood up from his chair. “Find a place nearby where there's music and we can sit,” he ordered her.

The girl nodded.

Oscar moved away from the table too, following Whiskey out onto the balcony to have a cigarette with him. He leaned against the balcony fence, letting the cigarette he had just lit hang.

Whiskey leaned against the wall and looked at the houses on the other side of the street. His face was relaxed and Oscar wondered what he was thinking.

“Do you really think we should go out tonight?” he asked, trying to have a civil conversation. Since the girl had entered the lake, he hadn't been able to have a moment to talk to him, both of their minds being occupied with her.

Whiskey kept his gaze away from him. He took the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and pushed out the smoke. “Yes,” he admitted.

Oscar hadn't expected it.

Whiskey glanced at him quickly and, catching his surprise, proceeded to explain: "For a couple of reasons. As the kid said, it could be a way to get to know each other better in a safe and light environment. It might allow us to gain her trust and understand her better."

“Do you think that, by getting her drunk, she might talk too much and tell us what we want to know?” Oscar deduced, interrupting him.

Whiskey pointed his cigarette at him and smiled. "Exactly. If we go out with her and act like her friends, she might start to consider us as such and spill out something."

Thinking about it further, it wasn't a bad idea. “The other reasons?”

"When you said that she confirmed to her that there are other people on her trail, I imagine she meant Lieutenant Caruso."

Oscar stiffened. He had completely forgotten about it.

Whiskey stopped to put the cigarette to his lips. “If anyone else is after her, we might find out tonight. There are five of us, at least one of us should realize if someone suspicious is keeping an eye on us or following us."

"It's dangerous." Oscar scratched his forehead with the same fingers that were holding the cigarette. “We can never lose sight of her.”

Nodding, Whiskey leaned forward to look at what was happening in the kitchen. "It should be enough if one of us is always close to her. The others, of course, can never stray too far. If we're careful, nothing should happen."

Oscar took a deep breath, filling his lungs with smoke. What awaited them would not be a quiet and relaxing evening. They would work all the time, keeping themselves constantly alert.

"And…" He turned his attention back to Whiskey, surprised that he had other reasons for having accepted the proposal. He found him with a mischievous grin poorly hidden by the cigarette he was gripping between his teeth. "I'm curious."

"Curious?" he asked, unable to understand what had triggered his curiosity.

Before Whiskey could answer him, the balcony door was flung open. Both of their gazes shifted to the girl who had come out. Looking down, she stood between them and waved the phone to draw their attention to it. "I have some ideas," she announced.

"Already?" Whiskey rested his arm on the bar and looked at her, still smiling. "You were so fast…"

Embarrassed, the girl pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I found three places I like.”

With his mouth occupied by his cigarette, Oscar motioned for her to come closer. The girl obeyed. She stopped a step away from him and showed him the premises she had found. "This is nice, there are two quite large rooms and many tables."

“Let's see,” said Whiskey, pressing the tip of his cigarette into the ashtray, which was on the small round table they had moved to a corner of the balcony.

The girl turned her head towards him, continuing to point the rest of her body towards Oscar, who took that opportunity to observe her. For once she wasn't wearing her usual black sweatshirt, instead opting for a gray t-shirt that was tight and showed off her curves. Her baggy jeans were cinching her waist and seemed like an invitation to place his hands on her hips.

Whiskey approached her from behind and used his height to his advantage, looking over her shoulder at the phone in her hand. The girl showed him photos of the first place she had found.

"The second one?" Oscar asked her, trying to get her attention again.

“The second place is a boat,” he replied.

“No, next one.” Whiskey took another step forward, getting too close to the girl for Oscar's liking.

"Why?" she asked, staring at a photo of a boat.

“It's not a good idea,” Oscar cut in. If they ended up in a dangerous situation, they would not be able to escape and would be stuck on the water.

“Okay,” she murmured, moving on to the third option. “This looks nice. It's less than an hour from here and it's in a building that sits on the river. Look." The two men moved a little closer. "There's even a platform on the river."

"Which do you like best between the first and the last?"

Oscar's gaze fell on Whiskey's hand. When he had placed it on Diana's hip? He watched his fingers tighten around the girl's waist and felt the burning urge to grab his wrist and pull him away from her.

Why wasn't Diana moving?

Oscar looked at her angrily.

The girl was chewing on the side of her lower lip and her eyes were focused on the screen of the phone in her hand, but Oscar guessed that her mind was elsewhere. Was she uncomfortable? Did he have to remove the hand himself?

"I think the third," she concluded, taking a step towards the door.

Whiskey let go of her and Oscar felt the weight in his chest lighten.

"I'll tell the others," she said. Without giving them another glance, she went back inside, leaving them alone on the balcony.

Chapter Text

Diana had turned on the phone at full volume and the music was dispersing throughout the apartment, starting from the bathroom where she had locked herself, reaching up to the balcony where Pedro had gone out to smoke yet another cigarette in preparation for that evening.

During the afternoon, he had the opportunity to rethink the decision he had made. The evening could have gone wrong in many ways, too many. The same reasons that had pushed him to accept, a few hours earlier, were starting to seem like dangers.

He could have walked into the bathroom, where she was getting ready, and told her that he had changed his mind. Since he was the captain, all the others would have had to accept his orders without objections, which however would surely have arrived.

He ordered his feet to do so, to turn around and walk out of the balcony. Going against his wishes, they remained glued to the floor.

The smile Diana had shown, before locking herself in the bathroom, was too rare and precious to destroy.

She really cared about that evening. It would have been a crime to take it away from her. Especially after what had happened at the lake. Pedro hadn't slept a wink all night, rolling over on his sides in search of an explanation. When he had gotten up, he had found more questions than answers.

He shook the cigarette butt, causing the ash to fall. He brought the remaining cigarette to his lips and inhaled, enjoying the smoke.

A man like Pedro, who had experienced far too many misfortunes, knew he had to hold on to the few moments of calm that life granted him.

Two knocks on the glass kidnapped him. He took a deep breath, not wanting to let Spider break his peace. "Yes?"

"Are you ready?"

Pedro looked down at his own clothes. He had chosen simple mid-rise jeans widened at the bottom, a white shirt with thin, vertical beige stripes, visible through the light brown bomber jacket that he had left open.

He just glanced at Spider, who nodded, having found the answer himself.

“Is the kid ready?”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “That's why I came looking for you,” he explained. "She hasn't come out yet, but I'm tired of waiting. She's been in there for an hour now. What is she even doing?"

Pedro crushed the rest of the cigarette in the ashtray and left the balcony, abandoning his calm outside.

The music the kid had chosen was questionable. One of the reasons why Pedro had decided to move outside of the apartment. Some of those songs Pedro hadn't heard for years and he would have preferred not to hear them for the rest of his life, others were unknown to him, but the style seemed the same: European hits from the nineties up to the 2010s. Sometimes, Italian songs would appear and the kid would sing at the top of her lungs, breaking their eardrums.

He reached the master bedroom and found Yoo sitting at the foot of the bed, his gaze focused on the television, where a German film was playing. From his confused expression, Pedro understood that Yoo didn't know a single word of German. Seeing them enter, Yoo raised an eyebrow, asking them what they were doing there. A silent question that Pedro chose to ignore.

When he stopped at the bathroom door, the kid was playing an ABBA song. Pedro was sent back to the past. Early 2000s, he was dancing in a nightclub, a woman's body pressed against him, liters of alcohol in his veins, and his head devoid of thoughts.

A whole lifetime had passed.

He knocked. "How much longer do you need?"

Spider leaned on the door with one arm, looking down to stare at his shoes. “Did you fall into the toilet?”

Pedro might have thought that the kid hadn't heard them, but he was sure that the volume of the music had become louder and her voice shriller.

He licked his teeth. “If you don't open this door, I'll break it down and then you can dream of going out.”

Heavy footsteps inside, then the door was suddenly thrown open. Pedro met the kid's angry gaze and was struck by it. She hadn't worn much makeup, probably because she hadn't brought too much with her. The tone of her face was brighter and more lively, revived by a touch of blush and highlighter. Her eyes seemed bigger and sharper.

“Can I have a few fucking minutes to myself or am I asking for too much?” she complained.

Pedro noticed that her lips were fuller than usual. The lipstick she had chosen seemed to invite him to ruin it. If the context had been different, he would have done it willingly. He would grab her and slam her against the wall. And then, he would kiss her until she forgot how to talk and what they were supposed to do.

He loosened the collar of his shirt, realizing that his breathing had quickened. He tried to speak and found that a lump in his throat was preventing him.

“You've been locked in there for hours,” Spider said, leaning on the doorframe with one shoulder. His gaze lingered for a long time on every part of the kid's body, returning only at the end to her still-angry face.

She was cute when she was angry.

Diana narrowed her eyes. “Don't lie,” she said. She tried to close the door, but Spider stopped her, placing his palm on the wood. The kid stopped applying pressure. “Before you interrupted me, I was about to finish.”

She took a step back, returning to the bathroom mirror to look at her reflection. Pedro had the opportunity to scrutinize every curve of her body for a long time. She seemed soft and he wondered what it would feel like to hold her in his arms.

“What do you still have to do?” Spider asked, entering the bathroom with her, but keeping a meter distance between them.

“Leave me alone,” she replied, leaning forward into the sink to look at her face.

“Diana.” Pedro heard her name come from his lips like a soft and gentle melody. He was surprised by his own voice.

The kid gave him a surprised look. "It won't take long," she promised, moving away from the mirror and putting the few make-up she had used back into their bag. “I just need to fix my hair and use the bathroom one last time, then I'll be ready.”

“Are you coming dressed like that?” Spider pointed to her clothes.

"What's wrong with my outfit?"

Spider looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. The kid took his silence as an insult.

"I don't take fashion lessons from someone who dresses like it's still the nineties."

She walked over to Spider and started pushing him out of the bathroom. Spider looked amused and put all his weight on his feet to resist. The kid gave up the idea of pushing him away with a sound of frustration.

She cursed in Italian. “Have you decided to make it your personal mission to annoy me?”

Spider sneered at her, looking down at her from the extra few inches he had on her. "Perhaps."

“Let her get ready or we'll never get out of here.” Yoo's voice came loudly from behind them.

The kid raised her hands in the air. "Thank you!"

Pedro turned to judge his teammate from head to toe. Yoo had chosen to wear low black canvas pants, which reached up to his ankles. Over them, he had placed a long-sleeved black t-shirt with a narrow neck. He looked like he was ready to go to a funeral.

If it hadn't been for the gray jacket that Pedro glimpsed lying on the bed, he would have thought that a freezing, shivering night was waiting for Yoo.

Pedro breathed in through his nose, calming himself. If Yoo had dressed badly, he could have at least treated him with superiority. Sure, it wasn't a style Pedro liked to wear, but even he couldn't deny that

Yoo attracted eyes for the right reasons.

He hoped that at least Siva and Ghost had chosen indecent clothes, to give some balance to their group.

The kid used the distraction granted by Yoo to push Pedro and Oscar out of the bathroom and close the door. “Give me ten minutes!” she shouted.

Spider returned to the kitchen quickly, and with angry steps due to Yoo's intrusion. As he passed him, the two men gave each other hostile looks.

Pedro closed his eyes and followed the younger one. They sat around the table, waiting for the kid to finish getting ready. They had time to smoke another cigarette before she finally emerged from her cave.

She arrived in the kitchen, raising her hands in triumph. “Eskere!”

She received confused looks from everyone.

Not letting it ruin her mood, she quickly explained, "It means: Come on, bitches."

Pedro regretted having forgotten that he was dealing with a child and not an adult. “Are you sure you're ready?” he asked her, moving closer to her to get a better look. Her hair, which she had washed that afternoon, looked good on her, framing her young face. She had chosen to wear black cargo pants, cinched around her ankles and tied around her waist.

"Yes." She pointed to the many pockets of her pants. "I've got everything. Wallet, phone, and pepper spray.”

Spider stopped at Pedro's side, examining her with the same attention. “If you stay near us all evening, you won't need it.”

Pedro stopped to look at her torso, covered only by a black ribbed t-shirt. "Where's your jacket?"

The kid smiled as if she was happy that he had asked. "I didn't bring any jacket. My black sweatshirt is still drying and I have no intention of putting back that obscenity that Artemis gave us."

"You'll be cold," Yoo warned.

Siva came out of one of the other two rooms, probably attracted by their voices. Ghost was the only one still missing. Pedro hadn't seen him for hours and had no idea where he had gone.

"I won't be cold," the kid replied confidently.

"What makes you think so?" Pedro asked, curious.

The kid put her hands in the shape of a gun and fired shots into his chest. "Because I have you. Five jackets I can steal in rotation.”

That idea didn't displease him at all. On the contrary, he was amazed at how much he liked imagining her wearing his bomber jacket. It would surely fall wide and long.

Suddenly, his pants were tight.

The kid turned to look at Siva and Yoo. "Where is Fantasmino? Did we take him back to the kennel?”

Spider pressed his fist to his mouth, barely keeping himself from bursting out laughing.

Yoo looked at the apartment door. "He said he would wait for us downstairs."

"I must admit that I am not surprised," the kid murmured, speaking to herself.

Without asking them if they were ready, she reached the door and left the apartment. The men behind her made sure they had everything they might need and closed the door, while she dutifully waited on the first flight of stairs to go down.

When they arrived in the street, the kid was walking with a light step and Pedro thought that at any moment she would start hopping.

"I'm sitting in the front," she announced.

Nobody objected.

They found Ghost waiting for them in front of the car, his back leaning against it and his face pointed upwards. Pedro felt like he was looking at a motorcyclist, only instead of wearing a helmet, he had a black surgical mask covering half his face and a hood to hide the blond tufts that he could glimpse.

His bad mood was dispersing in the air between them, but the kid seemed as usual not to understand it. She wagged her tail at him, ready to make him angry as only she could.

“For a moment, I thought you'd run away,” she said, teasing him.

Ghost looked down at her, keeping his mouth closed so as not to answer her. Pedro saw no movement under his mask, proving that he remained impassive.

Making sure to maintain eye contact with him, the kid walked past him to sit next to the steering wheel. Ghost closed the door for her and, still without saying a word, walked towards the steering wheel.

Pedro sat in the back with the others, trying to get a seat that would allow him to observe Ghost. Not knowing him long enough, it was hard to say what was strange about him. He could only say that there was something wrong with him.

He thought that maybe Ghost had managed to get a phone to call his family, thus finding out that something had happened to them. Or perhaps he was thinking of them and nostalgia had imprisoned him in its grip.

The kid played with the screen between their two seats, connecting it to her phone to play her music again. As soon as she played the first song, Ghost reached over to turn the volume down.

Pedro feared the arrival of a battle between the two in which one would try to turn the music to minimum and the other to maximum. He was therefore surprised when Diana did not reach for the volume knob and instead began to sing.

The kid rolled down the window on her side and put her hand out. She acted as if she was alone or didn't care to have them around. She moved her arms, following the dance of her body, not caring about the gazes she had on her.

At one point, in the few seconds of transition between one song and the next, she stopped to shout: "We're going to have a lot of fun!"

Pedro's gaze softened, finally understanding that Diana wasn't seeing them. Whoever she was pretending to have next to her was making her feel good and Pedro didn't try to ruin that moment.

They got out of the car after almost an hour of listening to her sing. Finding parking wasn't easy and they had to settle for a place far from the place they had chosen.

The kid started walking in front of them, turning to look at them. "Tonight you are my girls and we are going out to forget my countless failures. Do you have any questions?"

The skeptical and slightly disgusted looks she received seemed to amuse her.

“No questions, perfect,” she said, turning again.

Spider strode over to her and put his arm around her shoulders. That gesture only earned glares, but he didn't move. "Are you already cold?"

The kid tried to move away from his grasp, failing as Spider gripped her shoulder with determination. “No, ragnetto, I'm fine.”

"Ragnetto?"

Pedro approached them and translated the nickname Diana had given him.

“I'm not a little spider,” Spider complained, taking his arm away from her.

The kid didn't answer, just looked at him from head to toe with a mocking expression.

The place they had chosen was located in a lively area of the city. Being a summer night, hundreds of people were animating the streets, moving to reach places like that or other interesting destinations.

Before entering they had to line up, probably to show the bouncer that they were adults. Pedro cast a tense look at the kid and his teammates. Sensing his concern, Ghost and Siva stepped forward, surrounding Diana, while the other three stood behind them. The story they would tell was the same one Diana had made up when they were leaving the UK.

Looking at the many people around them, Pedro hoped that nothing bad would happen. Having his gun with him would have made him feel better, but Diana had insisted they leave them in the apartment.

"We are in Europe, not in the United States!" she had objected, shouting at Oscar. "We don't need weapons!"

Yoo had agreed with her, arguing that it would be difficult to hide a gun and that they were strong and capable enough not to need one.

Looking at Ghost, Pedro thought he must have at least one knife on him. Perhaps hidden inside the amphibians. He imagined his teammate taking it out and choking against a wall whoever had disturbed Diana. An image that reassured him.

They went through security without any problems and only received a bored look from the two bouncers. Pedro imagined that they had seen worse groups than them or perhaps Diana gave the impression of being safe and not a victim. Indeed, her blinding smile and cheerful attitude made her seem like a completely different person than when they first met her.

A change like that shouldn't have been normal. He wondered if it was because she had finally started to feel comfortable around them.

They entered the room, looking around to analyze its structure and the people present.

Yoo took off his jacket, placing it carefully on his arm. “Diana, remember what we agreed upon.”

The kid licked her lips. The chaos that was surrounding them seemed to agitate her. “I won't wander off alone and I'll try not to draw too much attention to myself.”

Many eyes were already on them, Pedro thought it would be impossible to remain invisible.

The kid, a crazy smile on her lips, advanced with determination. “I can't wait to burn my liver to ashes.”

Pedro looked up at the ceiling, wondering what he had done wrong to end up there.

Chapter Text

Airplanes weren't the only places on earth that Siva had put on his list of "terrifying places he would never go again at the end of that mission". After that evening, it would also include the place that Diana had chosen.

They were crossing a large room lit in red, but it was so full of Earthlings that it seemed tiny and suffocating.

He stared at the back of Diana's head, unable to orient himself and sure that if he looked away, he would vomit or pass out.

There were too many bodies around them; slimy and smelly, they moved from one point to another without having a precise destination. A woman reached out to touch his chest and Siva immediately pushed her hand away, grabbing her wrist and moving it rudely.

He should have opposed that idea, but when they had talked about it at lunch, he hadn't understood where they were going.

Diana led them outside the club, onto a long platform that was floating on the dark water of the river. That place was also full of people, but the atmosphere was calmer and the vast sky above their heads gave some peace to Siva's troubled heart; he advanced with a less trembling step.

They came to a square table that had been kept for them. Siva sat as far away from Diana as possible, making sure he wasn't even in front of her.

As he intended, he was going out of his way to ignore or treat her disrespectfully. However, his attitude was inconsistent. Often his concern for that girl got the better of him and he couldn't persist.

Diana explained that they had to use the phone to order drinks. She asked them all what they wanted, showing the menu to those who hadn't chosen. Siva stopped listening to her.

The sky above their heads was black, but too many city lights were preventing them from seeing the stars.

Siva kept his gaze high, allowing nostalgia to grip his heart. How was his family? He hadn't heard from them in too long. When he had come to Earth he hadn't thought that he would spend all that time there. He hoped that they hadn't left him for dead or feared that he had betrayed them.

If only he could see the stars, perhaps he would be able to glimpse his planet. He wasn't sure it was possible. Earth was light centuries away from his home. If it had not been for the portal that his sister had managed to find, Siva would never have arrived on Earth.

How did Earthlings live without seeing the stars? At home, every night the sky was tinged with beautiful lights, capable of guiding him wherever he wanted to go, even into different realities that only his imagination could create.

“Siva?”

He roused himself. Blinking to force himself back to consciousness, he looked down at Diana. She was leaning forward, elbows resting on the table and phone pointed at him.

"What drink do you want? Choose something decent and original. I don't want to be the only one who had a proper drink" she said, smiling. Her cheerfulness was as unexpected as it was difficult to process. Where had she hidden the other emotions she had felt up to that moment? They had to be nearby, hidden somewhere beneath the surface.

He rubbed his neck, his throat was dry. "I'll take what you chose," he replied, having no desire to discover Earthlings alcoholic beverages. He just needed her to stop looking at him with those lively eyes.

Diana nodded and sat back down normally. Her gaze remained focused on the phone screen for the long minutes that Siva spent staring at her. She had done her makeup delicately, looking nothing like the work his brother was capable of doing whenever he picked up their people's makeup. If the context had been different and Siva could have revealed his true identity to her, he would have taken her to his house and asked his family to teach her how to wear makeup according to their traditions.

Spider, who was sitting next to Diana, stretched an arm over the back of her chair. Siva forced himself to shift his attention elsewhere, so as not to listen to the jealousy he was feeling. He had rarely felt in that state, even though he had already lived more than a thousand Earth years. Feeling jealous of his prey's closeness to someone else was a useless emotion. Even without his intervention, they would both be dead within a matter of years.

The people around them were dressed in a thousand different styles as if each of them followed a personal fashion. He recognized that women tended to prefer skirts over trousers and that almost all of them were looking their way. He accidentally met their gaze. They looked away first, laughing awkwardly. A behavior that confused him.

He could have asked the others for an explanation about the behavior of earthly women, but it would not have been a good idea and Siva was not capable of formulating the words in such a way as not to arouse suspicion. His brother would certainly have succeeded.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

A waitress came by to deliver their drinks after almost ten minutes, which the others spent talking about useless topics that Siva didn't listen to. The young woman, apparently a few years older than Diana, placed a tall, triangular glass with a pink liquid and lots of ice in front of Siva.

"I hope you like it," Diana told him, searching for his gaze and bringing the black straw, that had been placed in her glass, close to her red lips.

Siva wondered if her lips were as soft as they seemed.

He didn't answer her, focusing on the strange fruity drink he had in front. Even before he drank it he was sure that it tasted sweet. Probably too much for his tastes.

Diana tried the drink first, making happy noises that attracted the gazes of all the men sitting around her. “Good and strong, just the way I like it,” she said, looking proudly at her glass.

Siva looked hesitantly at what was in his hands. He brought it to his lips, dipping them into the pink liquid. As he had expected, it was too sweet and his body seemed to reject it.

"You don't like it?" Diana asked, looking at him with a disappointed look.

Siva pushed the glass towards her. “You can drink it.”

Spider took it. “Not a good idea,” he said, ignoring Diana's glare. “If you drink too much you will get sick.”

Diana reached for the glass, trying to take it away from him. Spider didn't let her. “I can handle some alcohol!” she protested. “It's not the first time I drink.”

From the look Spider gave her, he didn't seem to believe her. Diana rolled her eyes and gave up, realizing that fighting him was useless.

Not having much to do, Siva studied the drinks the others had taken. Spider had chosen a tall, thick glass filled with a yellow drink. Siva didn't immediately remember that it was called beer. Whiskey, on the other hand, had chosen a short, round glass, with a dark liquid inside. He was almost tempted to ask them what their drinks tasted like. He didn't do it just to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to himself.

He didn't even spare a second for the two bottles of water Ghost and Yoo had ordered.

“So, do you do this often?” Yoo asked, breaking the silence that had been created around their table.

Diana seemed to understand that the question was directed at her. Raising the glass to her lips, she met Yoo's calm gaze. “Do you mean going out to drink?” Yoo nodded. “Not that often, but I don't mind. Especially when you're with the right people, it's fun."

Whiskey leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I guess you miss going out with your friends and…” his eyes moved from head to Diana's torso, “your boyfriend?”

Diana's cheeks rose from a poorly restrained smile. "I don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend. But yes, I miss my friends." She tried to stop the sadness from crossing her, but Siva saw it flash across her face for a second.

“Why did you specify that you don't have a girlfriend?” Spider licked his foam-stained lips. His eyes were only for the girl next to him.

Diana shrugged. “Because I felt like it.”

"Do you like women?" Ghost asked.

“I like interesting questions and this isn't,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “When I said I wanted to get to know each other better, I didn't mean that I wanted to be interrogated.”

Siva thought that the subject had to be sensitive for her. Maybe she hadn't found an answer to that question yet.

He didn't understand why it was difficult to find it. His people had always been very open about it, not imposing any kind of restrictions on love.

Yoo, remaining calm, took a long drink of water. “We can change the subject if this makes you uncomfortable.”

Diana didn't answer, but it was clear that she preferred to talk about other things. Siva guessed that she didn't like having all the attention on her constantly.

"What will you do after this mission?" he asked anyone willing to answer.

Silence returned to the table and Siva thought he had said the wrong thing.

After what seemed like an eternity, Whiskey lit a cigarette and answered. “I'll buy a little house somewhere with a sea view.”

"Not a bad idea," Spider commented. “Do you mind if I steal it?”

Whiskey exhaled the smoke through his nose. "Go ahead." His gaze scanned the faces of the others. "You're all invited if you want."

"With the money, I'll pay for my children's schools and travel the world without commitments" explained Spider. The topic seemed to make him happy as if he couldn't wait to make that dream come true.

"I always forget that to go to school in America you have to get into debt," Diana commented and from her tone, Siva thought she was lying. She remembered it very well, it was just an excuse to annoy Spider and Whiskey.

“At least, our schools are quality,” Spider retorted, concentrating on his beer.

"Are they?" she challenged him, not giving up.

“Even in South Korea, if you want to go to a good university you have to go into debt,” Yoo said, introducing himself into the conversation.

Diana shrugged her shoulders. “The school system sucks everywhere.”

"Even in Italy?" Whiskey asked. The hatred Diana seemed to feel for his country didn't bother him the way it did Spider.

Diana laughed. “Disgusting,” she replied. "I went through five years of terrifying high school. I didn't have a day of breathing. Horrible, really. I don't recommend it to anyone."

“Are you going to university now?” The look Yoo gave her was gentle and Siva thought he was seeing someone else.

Diana nodded. "I study history. I'm in my second year, but I'm a little behind."

"How come?"

Diana drank her drink, preferring not to respond. A silence that did not go unnoticed.

Ghost asked her the next question: “What will you do when the job is done?”

Diana stared at the bottom of the glass, which had collected two small slices of lime and some sugar that hadn't been mixed well. The question had made her mood somber. Siva expected more silence.

“If I survive,” she said. Her voice was barely understandable over the chaos on the platform. “I think I'll go home and try to catch up. But there's no point thinking about it now." She reached out to take back Siva's drink. Spider, who was watching her carefully, let her and said nothing when she took the first sip.

“As long as you stay with us you won't die,” Yoo promised her, looking at her with a hard expression. “We won't let him hurt you.”

The smile that formed on Diana's lips was gentle, one that someone could give to a naive child. “I appreciate the thought,” she said. She raised her glass.

“Diana,” Whiskey called her harshly. “We will protect you.”

Those promises seemed to warm Diana, but they didn't convince her. “I know you will try.” Her watery gaze shifted to the sky above their heads. "But you haven't met him."

Siva wanted to grab her by the shoulders and order her to reveal the identity of the man who was looking for her. Was he a human being? If Siva himself had succeeded in discovering Diana's location and arriving on her planet, it was likely that a few other creatures from space had succeeded.

Who were they dealing with? Not knowing would make their mission more difficult.

Siva looked at the men sitting around the table. The Goddess had said that she had chosen them herself. Was it possible that they too were not human?

Maybe he was wrong and the threat was a common Earthling.

Diana brought the drink to her lips and devoured it in one long gulp. As soon as she finished drinking, she slammed the glass on the table and stood up. The smile on her lips was fake and fragile.

“I feel like dancing,” she said, without meeting their eyes. "Boyfriend one and two, will you let me have some fun by coming with me to the dance floor?" She pointed to Ghost and Siva.

Ghost stood up first. Without saying anything, he started walking towards the inside of the club. Siva and Diana followed him.

Chapter Text

Ghost couldn't understand how people would voluntarily want to enter places like that one: crowded, noisy, and suffocating. He pressed the mask against his nose and lips. Feeling its presence made him feel better. He would have preferred to be covered by the balaclava, but the context would not have allowed it. He was already attracting too many glances with the mask, the hood up and gloves. If anyone had asked him why he was covering up he would have said he was terrified of germs or something similar.

His eyes remained fixed on his little girl's back the entire time, making sure to never lose her. He was walking towards the center of the room, where most of the bodies had gathered to shake to the annoying music. Siva was behind him somewhere. Ghost couldn't turn to check on him, fearing that a second of distraction would be enough to lose the little girl.

A group of young women passed in front of him, stopping his advance and putting distance between him and the little girl. Ghost clenched his jaw and ignored whoever was trying to speak to him. At least three times he had to push away annoying hands that had rested on his arms. Why were people unable to keep their hands to themselves?

With wider strides, he advanced towards the little girl, who had turned to look at him. She curled both index fingers, commanding him to come closer. Ghost wished he could wipe the smirk off her lips.

He had to take a deep breath before reaching her. He stopped in front of her, leaving only a step of distance between their heated bodies. Ghost was glad he had left his jacket outside because inside the club it was too hot even just wearing the light shirt he had chosen. He regretted not choosing one with short sleeves.

The little girl grabbed his hip, clutching the fabric of his black t-shirt. Ghost glared at her, warning her not to do anything weird. He only allowed her to touch him because it would make his job easier.

The music was so loud it was painful, but the little girl seemed happy. She closed her eyes, kept her hold on him, and began to dance on her own, completely immersing herself in the atmosphere around them.

Ghost stood still, looking at her, judging her movements that seemed senseless. He tried to understand how she could like to dance like that. He would still understand if she started dancing alone in the safety of her room or for some competition. There, surrounded by strangers who continued to press against them? He would never understand it.

The little girl raised her hand to the ceiling and swayed her hips, belting out a song Ghost had heard years ago, but he couldn't remember the name.

Someone pushed her from behind, forcing her to stumble forward. Ghost was quick to wrap a hand around her waist to give her some support.

Diana's hips were soft and Ghost's fingers dug into the grip. He lowered his head to bring it close to her ear. "Keep dancing," he ordered her, trying to find who dared to hit her.

He spotted a group of girls walking away. From their awkward movements, he guessed that they were drunk and hadn't done it with bad intentions.

The little girl straightened up and tried to pull away from him, but Ghost held her close. “Thank you,” she said. Ghost couldn't hear her voice well and had to read her lips. He noticed that the lipstick she had worn a few hours earlier had already disappeared.

Standing on tiptoe to be able to get closer to his ear, the little girl shouted to him: "You don't have to dance with me if you don't feel comfortable." She pulled away a few centimeters to look into his eyes. She stared at him intently, waiting for a response. Realizing she wouldn't receive it, she leaned close to his ear again. "If you want, I'll ask one of the others."

Ghost tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him a little more. "No." He didn't feel the need to give her any explanation.

“Then, if you prefer, you can step aside and let me dance alone.”

Ghost looked up at the ceiling. “You don't want me to dance with you?” he asked, annoyed by her insistence.

The little girl leaned on his shoulder to hold onto him better.

Their bodies were so close that Ghost could feel her breasts pressed against his chest. He tried not to dwell on the feeling.

“That's not what I said,” she objected. “I was trying to be nice to you. Why do you always have to be such an asshole?"

She used the grip she had on his shoulder to push him off of her, but it was too easy for Ghost to stop her. He held her close and didn't break their eye contact. “Dance,” he ordered in a cold voice. Since he hadn't screamed, he wasn't sure if she heard him.

Why was she worrying about him? He wasn't there to have fun. He was working.

The little girl looked away first, her expression was disappointed. Ghost let her go slowly, testing the waters. As soon as she was free, she licked her lips and bobbed her head in time to the music. The DJ, who was a few meters to Ghost's left, changed the song. He put one on that the little girl seemed to like. She returned her hands up in the air and her body swayed senselessly.

With every second she spent dancing, her face relaxed, leaving all the worries she had on the outside.

Ghost didn't even try to move like her. He stood there watching her, getting bored and lost in her movements.

The songs followed one another and when a new one that was famous came on, the crowd started screaming. Ghost was sure he wouldn't be able to stay in there much longer. Three times he had to grab Diana's waist, pulling her to him to ward off men who had gotten too close. One dirty look from him was enough to make them understand that she was already busy.

Halfway through the fifth song, the little girl stood on tiptoe again to talk to him. Ghost lowered his head to meet her. "I have to go to the bathroom," he warned. "Will you come with me?"

What a stupid question. Of course, he would follow her.

Now knowing the way, Ghost's hand found the little girl's waist. Without answering her, he spun her around and began leading her through the crowd.

The bathrooms were marked with a flashing red sign. To reach them, Ghost had to part the crowd, pushing aside the people who were standing between him and his goal.

They walked down a long corridor at the end of which they found two doors. Ghost told her that he would wait for her outside and not to take too long. Now that she was left alone, he noticed that her steps were a little unsteady and guessed that the alcohol had begun to work.

He leaned back against the wall and focused his gaze on the opposite wall, making sure to see anyone passing by.

The women's bathroom was louder and more crowded than the men's, Ghost realized he would be outside waiting for a long time. After twenty minutes, he began to get alarmed. He looked at the open door, wondering if he had to ignore the rules and go in and find her.

He clenched his fists with crossed arms and began counting. If he had reached one hundred he would have entered.

He immediately recognized her voice as soon as he heard it.

The little girl came out of the bathroom, chatting with two other girls her own age. Ghost froze, not knowing what to do. Their cheerful faces were warning him that Diana was safe and that she was only lingering because she had met those girls, but his body was still agitated because she had been missing for longer than necessary.

He remained still, pressed against the wall, half expecting the little girl not to notice him and to leave. Then, at least, he would have an excuse to get angry and punish her.

The little girl turned to him and her smile widened. Ghost felt a strange sensation in his chest that he couldn't name. “Here he is,” she said, pointing it out to her new friends. "My super cool emo boyfriend. He's scary, right?"

Ghost ignored the curious looks of the two girls and approached the one who was next to him. He cupped her face with a gloved hand and turned it to check that she hadn't hurt herself in the minutes she had spent away from him.

Laughing, the little girl explained to the others: "I told you he was protective." Her bright eyes locked with Ghost's. "You missed me, baby?"

His hand lingered on Diana's jaw. “Yes,” he lied. “A lot,” he added in a lower voice leaning towards her.

His answer seemed to take the little girl by surprise. She stared at him enchanted. She blinked to collect herself. "Shall we get back on the dance floor?"

Ghost slid his other hand to her hip. "Are you not tired?"

The little girl, continuing to perform for their few spectators, wrapped her arms around his neck. “The evening has just begun, Ghosty.”

Why did she keep giving him those stupid nicknames?

He rubbed his thumb across her chin, daring to move closer to her lips. "You promised that you would make it an unforgettable evening, remember?"

He saw her swallow and her smile looked sheepish. "I said it."

His thumb reached the little girl's bottom lip. Even with the gloves on, he could feel its softness and sweet taste. “So will you dance for me, Diana?” He said her name in a different tone than usual. He knew he shouldn't have done it, he had to get away from her before something forbidden happened. But for a moment, he didn't listen to the voice of reason and allowed himself to look at the woman in front of him with desire.

Diana seemed to realize that change. For long seconds, they stood in silence, observing each other. Their faces were too close to each other. Ghost would only have to tilt his head a little more and he would be able to kiss her. It would have been a strange kiss because he was still wearing the mask. But at that moment, he seemed to have forgotten.

She was the one to walk away first. She withdrew her arms and looked away from him, forcing Ghost to let her go. “I didn't think you liked seeing me dance,” she said, glancing at him quickly to see his reaction.

It had been a fleeting moment of weakness, and Ghost was quickly back under control. “Do as you like,” he replied, grumpily.

He looked at the corridor they were in, discovering that there was no longer any trace of the two girls. Since he was concentrated on the one he had to protect, he had not given them any attention.

He turned to walk back to the dance floor. The little girl immediately followed him. Not wanting to lose her in the crowd, Ghost grabbed her wrist. When they found a busy but less pressing area, he returned to face her. He nodded towards the dancing crowd around them.

The little girl's face was still astonished as if she hadn't been able to recover from what had happened in the corridor. Ghost blamed the alcohol that was clouding her mind.

To get her to move, he put his hands on her hips and swayed. The little girl stared at him without saying anything and let him lead that graceless dance.

The fact that she wasn't pushing him away or insulting him in Italian bothered him. He squeezed her tighter, pulling her towards him. Their bodies pressed against each other. “Can you count?”

"What?" she asked, frowning.

“I asked you if you're so drunk you can't even count.”

The little girl rolled her eyes and her voice was as annoying as usual. "I'm not that drunk, fantasmino. Thanks for your interest." Her gaze drifted away from him. “Shouldn't we look for Siva? I haven't seen him since we got back."

Ghost stopped moving.

“The last time I saw him he looked like he was about to faint,” she continued to say. "Maybe he went out to get some air? I think he doesn't like crowded, stuffy places."

Ghost stared at her with wide eyes. When had he become so bad at his job?

From the moment they had left the table, his concentration had been focused solely on her, not letting him notice anyone else.

Unacceptable behavior.

He tried to keep control of himself and not show her how much she had shaken him. “Yes,” he said, using the deadliest tone he could muster. “He must have gone back out with the others.”

He should have noticed his absence immediately. Instead, he had allowed the little girl to distract him. He glared at her, but she didn't seem to realize it.

Slowly, she went back to dancing, ignoring the mood Ghost was in.

The next few minutes seemed fast, as if he were stuck while the rest of the world spun fast.

Every time the crowd became more pressing, the little girl approached him, seeking support in his immobility. Ghost let her, even though her touch had become uncomfortably warm. He felt as if he were being touched by fire itself. He wanted to get away, escape from there, but he couldn't do it. His duty was preventing him.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck again, he was sure he was about to explode. He had to get out of there or he would make a terrible mistake.

Diana came close to his face and Ghost thought she wanted to say something to him. He was surprised to feel her lips rest on his throat, just under the mask he was wearing. His body was paralyzed by that sudden touch. If anyone else had touched him, Ghost would have reacted violently, but he couldn't hurt her.

He felt her sucking and a shiver of pleasure went down from his head until it concentrated between his legs.

Diana let go of him and her laughter caressed his abused skin.

That gesture was too much for Ghost.

He grabbed her more forcefully, forcing her to climb into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he walked briskly towards the hallway before the bathrooms.

His mind, focused on what he planned to do, did not process Diana's words. He only let her go when they reached a quieter spot.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he put her down and pushed her against the wall.

Ghost placed his hands around her head, pinning her between him and the wall. “You shouldn't have done that,” he warned her.

Without telling her anything else, he placed his hand over her eyes, covering them, and he removed the mask that hid the lower part of his face.

His lips were as soft and delicate as he had thought.

Ghost grabbed her jaw so he could have better access to her mouth. He allowed himself to get what he wanted and continued to devour her.

When he placed his thigh between her legs, rubbing her most sensitive spot, Diana moaned into his mouth. A strangled sound that fueled his hunger.

Diana placed both hands on his shoulders, grabbing him. Ghost couldn't tell if it was because she was trying to push him away or closer.

It was he who decided the beginning and end of that kiss.

He jerked away from her, keeping his hand firmly on her eyes, and immediately put his mask back on. He wasn't interested in being seen by the annoying glances of the people around them. The important thing was not to have been seen by her. The others were extras that he would soon forget about.

He watched with satisfaction the reaction of Diana's body. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her breath was caressing his face, which he was still holding close to her, and his hands were still tight on her shoulders.

Not letting her go yet, he asked, “Do you want to tell the others?”

Diana licked her red lips.

Ghost felt another shock go down between his legs. If only he could do that, he wouldn't have stopped at a kiss. And after having vented that carnal desire, he would say goodbye to her.

Diana remained still, completely at the mercy of his will.

It was driving him crazy.

He cupped her jaw with his other hand. Diana made a noise of protest that he didn't listen to. “You can try,” he challenged. "Tell them. Let's see who they'll believe. The little girl who's doing nothing but lie and keep secrets or to me?”

He rubbed his thumb over her lip again, enjoying the power he had over her.

He waited a minute for her to speak. Diana's lips remained parted and still, not allowing any sound to escape.

Ghost removed his hands from her face. The excitement was still stirring inside him and when he met her eyes, he lost himself completely in those deep irises. She was looking at him, in disbelief.

Ghost took a step back, forcing himself to step away from her. Someone ran into him and that collision allowed him to escape from the girl's gaze. Suddenly, all his adrenaline disappeared, leaving him only with the knowledge of the mistake he had just made.

He had to get out of there. Put as much distance between their bodies as possible.

He began walking aimlessly, ignoring his duty.

“Ghost!” she called, following him. "Wait!"

Ghost shook his head and continued walking.

His journey was short-lived. Spider appeared in his path, stopping him with one hand. "What is going on?" he wanted to know, glancing at both him and the little girl.

Ghost noticed that the other two were with him. Only Siva was absent. He hoped that he hadn't gotten into any trouble, because he had no intention of going to save him.

He touched his mask, focusing on its presence. He needed to be alone, isolated from everyone, and in a place without so many external sensations, so that he could control the ones inside his body.

He grabbed Spider's hand, taking it off of him. "I need some air" he announced, focusing his gaze on the exit of the club. "Look after her."

Chapter Text

Oscar watched Ghost quickly walk towards the exit. From what little he had seen of his face and from his tone, he had seemed troubled.

"What happened?" Whiskey, who had been walking behind Oscar a few steps before they saw Ghost and the girl, approached her.

"I..." she blinked with a dazed expression. "Should I chase him?" she asked them, pointing in the direction the other man had disappeared.

Oscar glanced at her carefully, looking for some wound or clue that could make him understand why Ghost had left her in a hurry. He couldn't find anything. Her clothes were intact, her neck and face had no signs of violence. "Why do you have to chase him?"

"Because he..." she closed her mouth in a second and looked at them in alarm. "We argued," she said quickly, looking away.

"Where's Siva?" Yoo looked around.

"Out. Perhaps. I do not know." The girl looked uncomfortable. "I think he had another panic attack."

Oscar ran a hand over the lower part of his face. Their team seemed to have been created by bringing together the worst possible people. Not only was he sure that they would never be able to get along, but he was almost starting to fear that they wouldn't even complete the mission.

"Are you OK?" Whiskey asked, taking a step towards her and looking at her worriedly.

The girl seemed taken aback by his interest. She backed away, preventing him from touching her. "Yes, I'm just shaken by the argument. Nothing new. I'll recover soon." She looked at the dance floor. "Would one of you like to dance with me?" She searched their gazes, then shook his head. "No, maybe it's better if I go alone."

She tried to go towards the mass of people. Yoo grabbed her arm before she could move away from them. "That's enough for tonight," he said. "You can barely stand, let's go."

"No, I want to dance some more," she insisted, freeing herself from his hold. "I'm fine, really."

While Oscar agreed with Yoo, he also understood that they wouldn't be able to reason with her when she was in that state. He held out a hand to her, which the girl looked at skeptically. "Come," he ordered, making her understand his intentions. "I'll dance with you."

"It's not a good idea," she replied, starting to rub her hands together in agitation. "I think..." she looked out over the tide. "I should go alone. I don't want anything to happen that I would regret later."

"Is this about what happened with Ghost?" Whiskey asked her. His expression had become more rigid, as if he was starting to get angry.

The girl licked her lips. "You can stay here and watch me," she said, pretending not to have heard the question.

"Diana."

Her eyes snapped to Whiskey's.

"If you don't tell us why you're upset, we'll leave immediately," he threatened.

The girl pressed both palms to her eyes. "Why can't you listen to me for a fucking second?!" she snapped. Her expression finally showed the emotions she had been hiding behind a smile all evening. "I am not a child and you are not my father! I don't need you to act like this!"

Yoo took a step towards her, holding a hand forward as if he were calming a wild animal. "Diana, calm down, we're just worried about you. Obviously, something happened, and if Ghost hurt you you need to tell us about it."

Oscar wondered how he could remain calm in the face of such a scene. Not only was that girl disrespecting them, she was even doing it in a public place, surrounded by harassing stares.

The girl took a step towards Yoo, raising a finger to his face. "Don't you dare tell me to stay calm or I swear..." The sentence fell without a conclusion.

"Come on," Oscar urged, approaching furiously. He couldn't stand her attitude anymore. "What will you do? Tell us, come on. Will you kill us? Hmm?" Diana stared at him with wild eyes. "Did you take a look in the mirror? You are a fragile little girl. What do you think you can do to us?"

Diana straightened her back and lowered her arm. "You wouldn't be the first man I kill," she said coldly.

Oscar stopped, not expecting that answer.

Diana faced him, not caring about the stares they were attracting. "Do you think the dick between your legs makes you stronger and smarter than me?" Her face was disfigured by a mad grin. "Oh, Oscar, you have no idea who the fuck you're dealing with."

A shiver ran down his spine. Oscar found himself at a loss for words.

It had been years since he had been afraid of anyone. He couldn't even explain what was terrifying him about her. Maybe it was the madness and determination in her gaze.

He didn't answer, just looked at her. If it hadn't been for the mission, he would have hit her in the face to show her who was in power. Unable to do so, he remained motionless with clenched fists.

"And who are we dealing with?"

The girl's eyes moved to Whiskey and her smile disappeared. "No one," she said, showing that she wasn't willing to reveal any information to them. "You're right," she continued in a passive-aggressive tone. "I'm just a spoiled, disrespectful little girl!" Dramatically, she stretched her arms out.

"Diana," Yoo called to get her attention. "Can we calm down and talk about it outside, please?"

Oscar guessed that Yoo was one of those parents incapable of punishing their children and dealing them with a harsher hand when necessary.

"No," she said shortly. "I wanna dance."

She gave them one last warning look and turned to walk into the crowd.

Whiskey cursed under his breath and ran his hands over his mustache. His serious gaze followed the girl the entire time.

Oscar turned to him. "Shall we let her go?" he asked, pointing at her.

"What should we do?" Yoo put his hands on his hips. From his expression, he seemed to be pissed off too. "Scream or grab her and take her away?"

"Yes," Oscar concluded. "We cannot allow her to continue to disrespect us. One day it might turn against us."

Oscar looked for Whiskey's approval, but he didn't even seem to have heard him. Oscar followed his gaze until he focused his own on the girl. She was dancing with her eyes closed, surrounded by other men who were moving around her. When one of them placed a hand on her hip, Oscar could no longer watch.

He moved before Yoo and Whiskey could stop him. He pushed people aside with determination, managing to reach her. He grabbed the hand when dared to touch her and crushed it to cause pain. The man, who was white and in his thirties, dared to complain. Oscar nearly broke his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Diana pushed him onto his chest.

Oscar let go of the man to focus on her. "I have no intention of allowing you to be a slut for other men."

He recognized the moment when she had processed what Oscar had just said. Her eyes went wide again and she looked like she was about to punch him in the face. Oscar hoped she would, so he would have an excuse to insult her and show everyone that he was the right one.

"I hope you die a slow, painful death," she told him through gritted teeth, walking past him to move away.

Oscar followed her immediately. He grabbed her wrist, holding it tight enough to hurt. Diana didn't complain, only glaring at him. "Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."

Diana stopped suddenly, facing him again. "Still talking? Leave me the fuck alone!"

Yoo stepped between them, placing his hands between their bodies to push them apart. "You're attracting too much attention," he warned.

Oscar couldn't take his eyes off the girl in front of him. "Didn't your father ever teach you to be quiet when an adult is talking to you?"

Humiliating people was way too easy. It came naturally to him.

He had learned it as a child, listening to his father talk to him and his mother. Over the years, this approach had come in handy on several occasions, allowing him to avoid being bullied. He had learned to perfect it, understanding what to say based on the person he was dealing with.

At that moment, with Diana, he did it for pure pleasure. He needed her to be ashamed of herself and to understand that he was stronger, more powerful, better...

Diana shook her head. "Stop talking about my father," she warned, looking at him with pure hatred.

"Why? Did he abandon you when you were little?" He pushed Yoo, forcing him away from his target. "He didn't love you enough when you were growing up?"

He recognized the sadness creeping into her eyes. "My father is dead," she confessed. "I killed him myself."

Oscar left his mouth open, about to reply. Unable to come up with a response to what he had just heard, he stared at her dumbfounded.

"What?" Yoo asked, voicing what Oscar was thinking.

Diana looked down, finally humiliated as Oscar wanted.

He looked at her carefully.

Why wasn't he happy to see her in that state? Pathetic, small, humiliated, and fragile.

Whiskey placed a hand on his and Diana's shoulders. "We have to get out of here," he said in a stern, impatient tone.

Looking around, Oscar found they had too many curious eyes on them. Without wanting to, they had created a spectacle for the whole place. He was sure that the bouncers would appear within a few minutes to ask them out. He swallowed, forcing himself to regain some control over his emotions.

"You left your jackets outside," Yoo reminded, clutching the coat that had draped over his arm.

Whiskey sighed. "I'll take care of it," he said. "See you at the car."

Oscar didn't have it repeated. He headed for the exit and reached it quickly, without checking if he was followed by the girl and Yoo.

He had immediately thought that this evening would be a bad idea, but he hadn't expected to what extent.

As soon as he stepped outside, the cool night air hit him full in the face. He closed his eyes and allowed the cold to enter his bones, hoping that it would calm the state he was in. If he couldn't calm down, he was sure he would end up punching a wall until his knuckles bled. He eyed the wall behind him, considering whether he should free himself from the emotions he was feeling.

"Here." Yoo's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

Oscar studied the girl. She was shivering from the cold and Yoo had offered to give her his coat, but she took a step to the side and put a meter of distance between them.

"I'm fine," she lied, using a sharp tone.

"So," Oscar said, unable to keep quiet and bring her attention back to him. "Is that why you're acting this way? Because did your father died?"

Oscar didn't believe for a second that she had killed him. She did not give the impression of being capable of committing such a crime. She had probably lied to scare them.

Diana didn't answer. She looked straight ahead and started walking.

Oscar made a move to follow her. Yoo grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he yelled at him. Oscar tried to squirm free of him, but Yoo was as strong as him and he held him down.

"Shut up or I swear that I will silence you forever" Yoo threatened.

Oscar shivered at his cold, hostile tone. He hadn't expected that Yoo, always composed and rational, could behave like that.

He tilted his head back, getting a better look at the taller man who was pressing him against the wall. "Why don't you try? Let's see who is stronger among us."

He could feel the violence coming. He looked forward to it, sure that a little physical pain would make him feel better.

Yoo pressed harder. "I will do it with pleasure."

How long had he been holding back all that fury? Oscar had to laugh.

"What are you doing?" Siva, whom Oscar had not seen until then, came towards them.

Yoo tightened his grip on Oscar's collar a little more, almost choking him. Oscar remained waiting for their fight to begin.

He was surprised at how much he needed it.

"Let him go," Diana ordered, still holding her trembling shoulders. "It's not worth it."

"Says the one who killed her own father." He could hold himself, it was a useless fight.

From Diana's watery eyes, he knew he had hurt her.

He felt that nagging feeling in his stomach again.

Focused on her, he had no way to see and block Yoo's punch.

Chapter Text

He shouldn't have hit him with all the strength he had in his body.

But Yoo hadn't been able to control himself.

He had warned him.

Spider gripped the wall and his crazed laughter filled the air between them. He leaned forward to spit onto the ground, into the asphalt between their feet. His furious, battle-ready eyes reached Yoo's, who braced himself for a frontal attack.

If Spider insisted on acting like a hormonal teenager and wasn't able to deal with the situation maturely, behaving like the adults they were, Yoo would have accommodated him. He would have lowered himself to his own level and would have silenced him.

It wasn't the first time since they had known each other that Yoo had felt the need to teach Spider a lesson. Up until that moment he had managed to resist.

It was the malice with which he had said that sentence to Diana that had sealed his fate. He had said it intending to hurt and humiliate her.

An unjustifiable behavior.

No matter how badly Diana behaved, she wasn't the older, more mature one among them. Spider had to learn how to hold his tongue and contain his emotions.

"Do we really want to do this?" Spider asked. Every part of his body, from his gaze to the position of his feet and hands, was indicating that he was ready, eager to fight.

Yoo forced himself to slow down the insistence with which his heart was beating. Spider gave him the impression of being a formidable opponent and Yoo couldn't allow himself to get nervous.

He extended the hand with which he was holding his coat towards Diana, who had been watching them from the sidelines. Yoo couldn't allow himself to look at her to see how she was reacting to that situation. Spider would surely take advantage of his distraction to attack.

Trembling hands reached for his coat. "Stay away," he told her.

Spider's gaze focused on her for a few seconds. He stuck his tongue out to lick his split lip. Yoo felt a rush of anger that was almost impossible to control. He wanted to rip out his tongue for daring to address his target in that way. Then he would take out both his eyes for daring to look at her.

The moment his dark gaze returned to Yoo's, the two men seemed to alert each other that they were ready and serious.

They both got into position. It hadn't been long since the last time Yoo had been forced to come face to face with an enemy; His muscles moved still accustomed to the training he had received when he was Diana's age.

Before the first punch was fired, as if some God had sent him to stop them, Whiskey left the pub. "What the fuck is going on?" his question, posed in a loud, confused voice, stopped them both.

For a moment, Yoo feared that Whiskey would defend Spider and that, as a result, he would have to face them both.

"Something very entertaining as well as stupid," said Yoo's target.

Yoo glared at her, not having expected her to speak up and say something like that.

Spider's laughter dispersed between them. Yoo was ready to throw another punch and from the look Diana gave him, she seemed to have thought the same thing.

Spider pointed at her with one hand, still smiling. "How did you kill your father, huh? An outburst after he scolded you?"

"What are you talking about?" Siva asked, taking a step forward.

Yoo had completely forgotten about him. He hadn't seen him reach them. He almost seemed to have come out of nowhere. Yoo often found himself forgetting that Siva was also there. Although Siva was tall and muscular, when he was silent, he managed to blend in with the world, disappearing.

Diana fixed Spider with a death glare as she crushed Yoo's coat. If he had been in Spider's place, he would not have closed his eyes that night, fearing for his life.

Spider didn't seem to have the same feeling. He looked back at her, using the same fury.

"Oscar!"

Their gazes returned to Whiskey, who had joined them and was glaring at Spider. He didn't seem to be looking at a friend, but an annoying problem. Yoo was almost happy to have him as captain.

Spider pursed his broken lips and held his gaze. From his attitude, although he was still aggressive and ready for battle, it was clear that he was not willing to take it out on Whiskey. His arrival had been essential in calming the situation.

As soon as he seemed to realize that the atmosphere was no longer threatening storm, Whiskey's attention shifted to Diana, who was staring at her feet. He studied her with a disappointed and stern expression. "It's late," he announced. "We have to get back to the apartment."

Yoo rubbed his tired, painful eyelids. A night's sleep was what he needed, but after that catastrophic evening, he doubted he would be able to fall asleep. He would probably stay awake the entire night, just to make sure nothing else happened.

The first to move towards the car was Whiskey. He walked quickly and still angry. Yoo was sure that those emotions would not disappear easily. They had only two perspectives in front of them: the situation could have worsened after a small moment of peace and exploded in their faces, or they would pretend nothing happened until they forgot about it. Instinct warned Yoo that the first possibility was the most likely.

The others followed Whiskey's determined path without saying a word.

As had happened before going out for the evening, they found Ghost waiting for them, while leaning against the car and looking up at the sky.

Yoo glimpsed a red circle on his throat, but tired as he was, he didn't give it too much thought. He noticed, however, that Diana had slowed down and that she was staring at Ghost in fear. He thought back to the agitation he had seen on her face a few minutes earlier and tried to explain their behavior to himself.

Having thought the same thing, Whiskey walked towards Ghost, who looked down at him tiredly. "What happened?" he used the same disappointed parent tone that he often directed at Diana. "You can't leave without explaining to us and leave her alone!"

Ghost stared at him with half-closed eyelids.

They waited for him to answer.

"So?" Spider urged, getting more glares from Whiskey and Yoo.

"We had a disagreement," Diana reiterated.

Whiskey shushed her by extending a hand in her direction. "I didn't ask you."

Ghost's eyes drifted to Diana's hunched form. He stared at her for seconds that seemed endless. "What she said."

He took a step forward, away from the car only to turn and walk to the driver's seat.

Yoo didn't believe him for a second.

But that evening had exhausted him too much. "Maybe we'd better think about it tomorrow morning when we're calmer," he said, hoping everyone would calm down and let him relax for five seconds.

How was it possible that Lieutenant Caruso had chosen a bunch of incompetent idiots?

They got into the car, occupying seats randomly. Spider sat in the front, along with Ghost, and Diana chose the seat furthest from him. Yoo came up next, sitting to her right. He kept his gaze on her, noticing that her face didn't look good.

"Do you feel OK?" he asked her.

Diana sagged against the seat. She could only shake her head.

"If you feel like puking, let us know immediately," ordered Whiskey, sitting in front of her.

The movement of Diana's head was barely perceptible. She closed her eyes and placed a hand on her stomach. From her impassive face, it was difficult to see how she felt.

Even after the car left, Yoo watched her carefully, trying to notice every slight change in her expression.

When she actually felt like throwing up, everyone knew.

"Ghost stops the car!" Whiskey shouted, taking off his jacket to offer it to Diana as a container. Diana shook one hand, bringing the other to her mouth. Retching went through her entire body.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much," Yoo rebuked her, moving closer to her to push her hair away from her face.

Diana replied by showing him the middle finger.

The moment Ghost parked the car, she dashed out. She didn't have time to get past the car to reach the sidewalk. She knelt on the ground and started vomiting. Whiskey got out after her and crouched next to her trembling body to hold her hair. Yoo hurried over to them and motioned for Siva, who was trying to come out after him, to stay inside. They remained outside for about ten minutes, rubbing Diana's back or passing her handkerchiefs. Diana muttered phrases in Italian, to which Whiskey replied in English. "You'll be fine," he said. "You just need a little rest." The girl shook her head.

They stayed outside until she seemed to have recovered. Taking hold of her shoulders, they both helped her sit back inside. Diana crouched with her legs drawn to her chest and closed her eyes, falling into what Yoo feared was a deep coma. When they managed to wake her up, because they had arrived, he was more than relieved to see her open her eyes.

Since she was staggering, Whiskey picked her up off the ground and carried her. Diana let herself go into his hands, letting him carry her to the only double bed. Yoo insulted himself for not thinking of it before him.

He followed them into the room, staring at what Whiskey was doing.

He slowly placed her on the bed, making sure not to hurt her. Diana rolled onto her side, closing like a hedgehog. Whiskey and Yoo watched her for a few minutes, then their eyes met.

"We should help her change," Whiskey suggested.

Yoo ran his gaze over the furniture in the room in search of the pajamas they had made her wear the previous night. He found the T-shirt and shorts on the cabinet on the other side of the bed.

"Diana." He walked over to her and brushed her hair away from her sweaty forehead. "Can you change your clothes yourself?"

"I'm not changing."

Yoo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Come on," he urged, pushing her to sit up.

Objecting, Diana allowed them to remove her clothes. The two men were careful not to touch her inappropriately. They left her bra on, even though it seemed very uncomfortable. He hoped she would take it off herself during the night.

They laid her down again, allowing her to get back into the position she preferred.

"How do we organize ourselves for the night?" Siva asked, looking at them from the doorway of the room.

Whiskey took off his jacket and loosened his shirt. "We'll take care of her," he said, sitting on the side of the bed where they had left Diana and putting his hand on his knee.

Thinking that "we" included Whiskey and him, Yoo nodded. "You were with her last night. It's better if tonight you rest."

Siva frowned and turned his attention to the sleeping girl.

Whiskey, before he could object, added, "She's fine. Just drunk."

Reluctantly, Siva nodded and left the room.

In the half-hour that followed, the master bedroom was invaded by chaos. Ghost and Spider decided to take back their mattress, moving it to another of the rooms, thus leaving the other three to divide the present space. When it was time to decide who had to sleep in the same bed as Diana, Whiskey and Yoo exchanged a long look, full of unspoken words. Their moment of silent confrontation was interrupted by the girl herself, who jumped up to run towards the bathroom.

Both men were immediately behind her, assisting her again. Yoo grabbed her hair, holding it well away from her face as she vomited into the toilet. The stench bothered him so much that he had to close his eyes and hold his nose with his other hand.

Diana tilted her head back and groaned at her pain. Whiskey offered to wipe her saliva-soaked mouth.

"I hate you," she muttered through half-closed eyelids.

"You shouldn't treat the two men who are helping you this way," Whiskey pointed out. His amused tone annoyed her further. Diana tried to stand up on her own, but her legs were too limp to allow her to do so. She staggered backwards and Yoo was quick to wrap an arm around her waist.

"Shall we go back to bed?" he asked her in a caring voice.

The little girl nodded with a tense expression, Yoo imagined that her body was still crossed by the cramps in her stomach, which was desperately trying to reject the alcohol inside her.

"You drank too much, it's not good for your body," he scolded her.

"I know, Daddy," she replied flippantly. She said that nickname angrily. Yoo had no reason to feel the blood rushing between his legs.

There was nothing sensual about what was happening.

He blamed it on the fact that he hadn't had sex in months. The abstinence was making him feel that way. He certainly didn't find that little girl, barely older than his daughter, attractive and he wasn't intrigued by her. Especially not after hearing her admit to killing her own father and seeing her puke.

He accompanied Diana back to the bed, while his head was filled with insults.

He helped her get under the covers and tucked her in, all under Whiskey's watchful eye. He started to move away from her, but Diana grabbed him by the hem of his trousers. Yoo looked at her confused. Her face was calm, her eyelids closed and her lips slightly open, as if within those few seconds she had already fallen asleep.

"Thanks, papà."

Technically they were the same words, but at the same time, it was two different worlds.

She had said it differently.

The second time, she said those two syllables with such kindness and love that Yoo felt disgusted with himself.

He easily freed himself from her grip and refrained from moving closer to place a kiss on her forehead as a loving parent would have done.

He rubbed his temples, taking a few steps back. "I have to..." A lump in his throat prevented him from finishing the sentence. He swallowed hard. "I'll take a shower."

Without waiting for Whiskey to answer, he darted towards the bathroom.

He remained under the freezing water for a long time, allowing it to calm the heat he was feeling in every muscle of his body. His mind acted without his consent, introducing troublesome thoughts that he tried to shake away. The painful erection between his legs did him no good.

He leaned against the cold wall of the shower, staring at his pale and shriveled hands from too many minutes he had spent under the water. He dared to push his gaze down, staring at the red tip that was looking up at him.

He had to take care of it.

He tried to think of something that disgusted him or made him angry. Again, his mind brought in images of her.

Yoo's breathing came in gasps.

His hand flew to his cock on instinct, while his other hand flew to his mouth to cover whatever sound he was threatening to make.

He thought back to her dancing surrounded by a blurry, slower crowd. Yoo had never been a dance enjoyer, but he had more than willingly watched Diana dance, enjoying the view. He imagined her turning to him to smile.

He bit his knuckles.

His hand moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do. And Yoo's thoughts only led him down a cursed path. He imagined scenes of which he was immediately ashamed.

Another long, painful minute passed before he felt better.

He rested his sweaty forehead against the wall, allowing himself to catch his breath.

When, after another ten minutes, he emerged from the shower, he was greeted by an unpleasant sight. Whiskey lay next to Diana, whose forehead was resting on his chest (covered for a night by a white tank top), while he caressed her shoulders absentmindedly. The sound of Yoo's footsteps caught his attention.

A smirk lit up Whiskey's tired face. "Do you feel better?"

Yoo looked away and went to the window to close the heavy curtains better.

Whiskey knew and it made Yoo feel even more humiliated.

The little light, emanating from the lamp on the bedside table next to the side of the bed occupied by Whiskey, allowed Yoo to orient himself towards the other side. "Yes," he said, looking down to study Diana's back.

Whiskey knew what Yoo was feeling because they were emotions he had himself. Yoo couldn't let him take advantage of his target in the middle of the night.

He lifted the covers to tuck in behind the little girl.

By lying next to her, he would prevent the other man from doing anything wrong.

He settled in the little space left and looked for Whiskey's gaze, which was already fixed on him. "What about you?" he asked, spitting out the words as if he were insulting him.

Whiskey placed his hand on Diana's shoulder and his smile only widened. "I'm fine."

Was Whiskey implying that he was stronger than Yoo and that he would never give in to temptation?

Yoo turned onto his side, facing Diana's back. "Great."

His passive-aggressive tone seemed to amuse Whiskey even more. He reached out to the lamp, turning off the light and marking the end of that conversation.

Using the cover of darkness, Yoo got a little closer to his target. He moved his arm around her stomach, making sure not to press too hard.

Exhausted as he was from the evening that had just ended, sleep quickly overtook him.

Chapter Text

Pedro woke up with the pleasant sensation of holding something warm and soft. He pressed harder against what his sleepy mind imagined to be a pillow warmed by his body heat.

The room he was in was completely dark and he could hear the regular snoring of another man. He opened his eyes to adjust to the darkness and gave his mind time to awaken.

The memories of the previous evening filled him with distress. He had all gone to pieces in a few seconds. He still couldn't understand what exactly had happened.

He looked down at the kid's body, realizing that it was her and not a pillow. She was still sleeping, her back turned towards him and her face resting under Yoo's chin. Whiskey wondered how she could sleep so peacefully sandwiched between them.

He stretched his leg, accidentally moving closer to her. His morning erection touched her ass and he squeezed his eyes shut.

He couldn't stay there, even though it seemed like a paradise.

He forced himself to stand up. Taking care not to step on Siva, who was occupying the only mattress left on the floor, he reached the window to open the curtains. The morning light enveloped them with its soft colors.

From the bed, he heard some protests. With a smirk, he watched Yoo move away from the kid to stand up as well.

Without greeting him, Pedro went out to get something to eat. In the kitchen, he found Ghost already awake. Since they hadn't planned those days well, their refrigerator was low on food and Whiskey warned that he would go out to buy something. Ghost offered to go with him and Whiskey was surprised by it.

With the money they had available from those withdrawn two days earlier, they tried to buy as much as possible. Before returning to the apartment, they stopped at a tobacconist to buy more packs of cigarettes. Pedro stayed by the car, enjoying a few hits while Ghost entered the small shop.

When he came out, his cigarette was already halfway through. With a curious look, Pedro studied the magazine that Ghost had bought. Its cover was yellow, with poorly edited photos. It seemed like a low-quality gossip magazine.

"What happened in the world since we have been gone?" he asked in a joking tone.

Ghost stopped in front of him. He tossed him the bag of cigarette packs and, keeping his gaze fixed on the first page, he seemed to get lost in his thoughts. “Do you remember that man who infiltrated a UN assembly nine years ago?”

Pedro exhaled a gust of smoke, concentrating on remembering that event. "Yes…" he replied after a few minutes. "Many years have passed, and I don't remember much of it. A terrorist attack. One man had kidnapped all the people there, right?”

Ghost waved the newspaper. “It was never confirmed as a terrorist attack,” he explained. “No one claimed it.”

At the time, Pedro was busy elsewhere, but the news had caused such a media sensation that it had reached him too.

He didn't remember the details. He only knew that a man in his forties, white and unarmed, had managed to enter the room where the meeting was held and seal it to prevent any movement, whether from outside to inside or the opposite. He had held all the members hostage for three long days and then killed them because his conditions had not been fulfilled.

“Why did that come to your mind?”

Ghost's blue eyes snapped to him. They were as cold as a scorching, snow-filled winter. “Here, they're talking about it.”

“And what do they say?” Pedro couldn't understand why it was a relevant topic. However, being bored and wanting to have a normal conversation for once, he allowed Ghost to continue talking about it.

"Unrealistic assumptions about the man's identity and who he was looking for."

Another memory crept into Pedro's mind. "The man had demanded that a person be “delivered” to him," he said. At the time, he didn't understand who the man was referring to. He had guessed that he was speaking directly to some government. It could have been some criminal partner of his who had been put in prison and whom he wanted to free. This would not have been a one-off event. Since he didn't have enough information about it nor it didn't concern him, Pedro had never questioned the matter much.

Ghost flipped through the pages until he found the article. He turned the newspaper towards Pedro, pointing out one line in particular. Not knowing a single word of German, Pedro found it difficult to read.

“He was looking for someone,” Ghost reiterated, pointing to the text.

Pedro's eyes widened.

The cigarette slipped from his fingers. He grabbed the paper, rereading one particular word until the letters started moving nonsensically.

Tamahime.

That's what the stocky man had said when they arrived in Scotland.

“The man asked someone named Tamahime to surrender and join him,” Ghost continued, ignoring the state Pedro was in. “Or he would have killed all those people.”

Pedro looked away from the newspaper, putting a hand over his mouth. His eyes, still amazed, found Ghost's impassive ones. “He was looking for her.”

“Now we know what the man who is stalking her looks like.” Ghost took the magazine back, which he rolled up and then crushed. “But we still don't know why or who he is.”

Pedro needed to move to get rid of the emotions that were agitating him. He put his hands on his hips and paced back and forth. “This complicates the situation.”

The threat they were dealing with had managed to trap an entire room full of people, preventing the outside world from accessing it and the hostages from escaping. How could the five of them protect the kid?

"Does he know her identity and what she looks like? Does he know he has been looking for Diana?" he wondered aloud. Perhaps the answer was obvious, but Pedro had been caught too off guard by that revelation to think clearly. “If he killed those people it means she never showed up.”

At the same time, almost ten years had passed. It was likely that in the meantime he had managed to find out everything about her.

Was the man working alone?

They still didn't have any kind of information available. Pedro looked back at Ghost. “We need to look for every detail there is about him.” They had to find out everything because even a tiny detail could prove essential.

Ghost nodded.

Before starting to work, they had to warn the others.

They quickly returned to the apartment. Pedro found the other three in the kitchen. "Diana?" he asked, entering with an agitated step.

“She's still sleeping,” Yoo replied. "She woke up half an hour ago saying that she wasn't feeling well. I made her drink some hot tea, hoping that it would help her a little."

Pedro looked at the time on his watch. It was already eleven o'clock, perhaps Diana would sleep until noon, giving them some time to discuss.

Siva, who was leaning against the sink counter and holding a glass of a steaming drink that Pedro couldn't distinguish between coffee or tea, observed them with a curious expression. "Why are you nervous?"

Yoo gave him a skeptical look.

Spider, sitting with his arms crossed, examined them carefully. Pedro was surprised that another fight hadn't broken out between him and Yoo in the time he and Ghost had been apart. “Did you meet anyone suspicious?”

Shaking his head, Pedro advanced towards the table. He reached out to Ghost, silently ordering him to pass him the magazine. “We found out something about the man who is after her.”

All three other mercenaries leaned forward, interested in hearing what Pedro had to say. Trying to be succinct, Pedro and Ghost told them about the UN assembly, the man, and how he had asked about someone called “Tamahime.” Hearing that name, the three men's faces lit up as if a light bulb had turned on above their heads. The connection to the nickname they had heard when they arrived in Scotland was immediate.

Diana was the Tamahime. What that meant, none of them had any idea.

Siva finished the content of his cup in one quick gulp and turned his back to them. “That name doesn't mean anything good.”

Pedro narrowed his eyes. He hadn't forgotten all the times that boy had behaved suspiciously and strangely. “Do you know anything that might be useful to us?”

Siva shot him an alarmed look over his shoulder. “I don't know anything about that man.”

It wasn't the answer to the question Pedro had asked.

Before they could question him, the door to the master bedroom swung open and a still-sleeping kid came out with shaky steps.

Pedro cursed under his breath. It was unwise for them to discuss it when she was present. He hoped that she had only gone out to find something to drink and that she would then go back to sleep. Otherwise, they could have told her that they needed to discuss matters essential to her safety. He sensed that she wouldn't take kindly to them wanting to talk about her safety when she wasn't there. She would make a fuss and Pedro had no desire to face her.

A tense, heavy silence fell over the kitchen. The five men followed the kid's every move with obsession. Not noticing them, she reached for the refrigerator. Pedro remembered that they had left the shopping bags in the back of the car. He told himself they would get them back after they finished speaking.

"Did you sleep well?" Spider asked her mischievously.

The kid looked at him with only one eye open and responded with a sound similar to a muffled grunt.

Spider stood up, ignoring the warning looks the others were giving him. “I'm giving you one last chance to tell us who you are before we conclude the truth ourselves.”

The kid's eyes opened in confusion. “What the fuck are you babbling about?”

"Oscar" Pedro warned him to be quiet. From the look Spider gave him, it was clear that they wouldn't be able to stop him. Pedro didn't want to have to resort to violence. He took a step towards him, but Ghost stepped in the way, giving Pedro a look that was warning him to let Spider continue.

“Why don't we talk about all the people you left to die?”

Sleep suddenly disappeared from Diana's features.

Slowly, she closed the refrigerator door. Keeping her eyes open and fixed on him, she took a step back. “I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care,” she said, backing away cautiously. “Keep your delusions to yourself, please.”

Spider moved away from the table, making sure to always keep his eye on his prey. "Nine years ago, UN. Does it remind you of anything?" he asked without holding back the malice in his voice.

They read the answer in Diana's face. Pale and frightened, the kid seemed to freeze.

“Those people died because of you.”

Pedro wondered if Spider really meant it or if it was just a tactic to get a reaction from the kid in front of them.

“Don't…” her voice broke. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

Diana's eyes became red and shiny from her barely held back-tears. She clenched her fists until her knuckles were white.

"We don't?" Spider insisted, taking a step towards her. “Explain it to us, then.” He spread his hands to indicate the other men.

Diana looked at each of them. She seemed to want to read their expressions. Finally, she lowered her head, and her lips sealed into a straight, trembling line.

Pedro noticed that she was breathing frantically.

“The man who greeted us when we arrived in Scotland called you Tamahime,” Spider said, showing no sign of stopping. The pathetic state she was in seemed to give him pleasure. “It's who you are.”

"Shut up!" Diana shouted, giving in to tears. “Don't you dare call me that!”

She advanced on Spider, who looked down at her. "Call you what? Tamahime?”

Pedro understood that he had to intervene before the situation became irrecoverable. "Oscar, stop…" he couldn't finish the sentence.

Diana brought both hands to her ears, covering them. Her head tilted forward and she closed her eyes.

Her scream filled the room, loud enough to break glass and strong as a shock wave.

Not metaphorically.

Pedro closed his eyelids and had just enough time to bring his arms in front of his face to protect it.

He was thrown backward, his feet knocked off the floor.

He flew until his back hit the kitchen wall. His body smashed against it with such intensity that it took his breath away.

It all happened in a few seconds. Pedro, and none of the other mercenaries, had time to understand what was going on.

Their five bodies, unconscious, fell to the floor with a thud.

Chapter Text

Diana was eight years old when she first sensed that there was something wrong with her.

She was at camp with the Scouts and it was one of the first days of the week that awaited them, immersed in the nature of the mountains. Her older brother was with her, but they were placed on different teams and spent most of their days apart. Her sister, however, had preferred to stay at home, because the life of a scout wasn't for her.

After dinner, Diana had wandered away from the camp to find a quiet, private place to relieve herself. She had asked her friends to accompany her, but they all told her they were tired.

She hadn't gone very far in fear of getting lost. She had chosen some nearby, large trees. Even before she crouched on the ground and pulled down her pants, she realized someone was following her.

She had asked anyone hiding among the logs to come forward. Three children, from her team and a year older, had shown themselves with amused and evil looks. Diana knew with a single glance that she was in danger. Although she had never been harmed, an animalistic instinct took possession of her mind and body.

She started running.

But the three children were faster.

They reached her. One of them grabbed her by her hair, pulled her back, hurt her, and then slammed her against a nearby tree. Their laughter filled the forest, while her pleas were ignored.

She had never felt so afraid. It wasn't like watching sharks on television. The terror that crept into her muscles was raw and stirring. And she wasn't in the safety of her home, with the ability to hide behind her mother.

She closed her eyes and prayed God to save her. The children's hands touched her in sensitive parts that she had never touched herself. Their touch was painful. Diana prayed with even more desperation.

A voice answered her prayer. At that moment it seemed to her that it belonged in the forest itself.

Scream.

Diana rested her forehead on the bark of the tree she was pressed against and opened her mouth, allowing her voice to disperse through the sleeping nature.

She woke up a few minutes later, her brother's frightened face occupying her sight. When she turned to try to understand what had happened, she found the unconscious bodies of the three children a few meters away from her.

No one believed her story.

They are such good children, why would they hurt you? Are you sure they weren't trying to help you, Diana? Maybe you misunderstood. It was just an innocent game between children!

Diana asked herself the same questions.

Then, louder than the others, a question made its way into her mind.

Was it my fault?

One of the adults who had accompanied them to the camp insinuated it.

Diana, baby, are you sure you didn't do anything to give them the wrong ideas? Are you sure you didn't push them to come looking for you?

Diana couldn't figure out what she had done wrong. She disliked those three children even before that moment. They had always treated her badly and she had been forced to respond in an aggressive voice. Although she was constantly scolded by adults for her tone, Diana did not stop to defend herself.

She was surprised that her family believed her.

Usually, when she said that her sister had spat on her and that she had only defended herself, they always attacked her, punishing her. Why was that moment different? Why had they accepted her story even though the whole world called her a liar (she herself was starting to believe she had imagined it)?

After the incident, only a day passed before their father came to pick them up. He warned the adults present at the camp that he would report the incident and was ready to harm the three children. They were rudely sent away, with invitations never to show up again.

Diana felt fragile. She didn't want her family to suffer because of her. She didn't want them to pay the consequences of her crimes.

She and her brother stopped attending the Scouts.

---

Diana was ten years old when He first appeared in her dreams.

It started like any other dream. She and her sister were in the mountains and were trying to go down with a bobsleigh, while their uncle was building a snowman that looked more like a bear. Suddenly, Diana felt a gaze on her.

She raised her head to try to find out who it was.

She found black, piercing eyes.

A man, about the age of her father, was staring at her from a few meters away. Even though it was a dream, she was able to see it clearly. As if it were real.

She saw his muscular arms covered in strange symbols and red lines; the shape of his face pointed, his straight hair cut short. His pale complexion was set off by his red clothes.

A terror, similar to what she had felt when children had attacked her, assailed her. Diana abandoned bobsleigh and her sister to start running. Her uncle shouted her name to stop her, but she ignored him.

She had to get away from Him.

She reached the forest, hoping to be able to lose him among the thick trees. Their branches, sharp and protruding, slowed her down, punishing her for her cowardice.

She turned to look for that figure, but wasn't able to see him, although she was still sure he was following her.

His eyes were on her. Diana felt their overwhelming weight.

Since she had turned around, she hadn't looked where she was stepping.

Falling off a cliff allowed her to wake up.

She sat up, sweating and panting.

---

Diana was twelve years old when the UN met as usual in an assembly.

She spent the whole afternoon studying for an upcoming English test and was more than happy when her father knocked on the door of her room to let her know that they were ready to eat. She rushed to the kitchen, eager to fill her stomach.

Her mother turned on the television and put on the news. They used to do it every day. That was an ordinary day. There had been no hint that it would be different from the ones before.

One piece of news in particular was on everyone's lips.

A man had taken hostage all the people gathered for the first meeting of the United Nations in September. It had happened five hours before, but no one had managed to enter the room. Military personnel from all over the world had been brought into play.

The journalist who was at the scene hypothesized that it was a terrorist attack. Her speech was interrupted mid-service.

“A video of the terrorist has just been released,” another journalist announced.

Diana watched the news in horror, wondering who was evil enough to do such a thing. As soon as she saw his face appear on the television screen, Diana stopped breathing.

It was not possible. It couldn't be.

How was he real?

The man who had tormented her dreams for two years had just appeared in her reality, proving that he was real. He existed. And he knew about her.

His voice was sharp and raspy like the one she heard in her dreams. “I know you're watching me, Tamahime,” he said.

Diana wasn't able to hear the rest of his words, they were lost in her panic-clouded mind.

She stopped perceiving the passage of time, as if she had detached herself from her body and was lost elsewhere.

She returned to her flesh only when her sister flicked her fingers in front of her face. That noise allowed her to anchor herself to the cruel reality in which she found herself.

Her father looked at her from across the table, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Are you okay, farfallina*?”

Diana swallowed forcefully the lump that had formed in her throat. “Yes,” she lied. "I'm not hungry. Can I go back to my room?" Her voice sounded pathetic and fake to everyone, but no one insisted.

She went back to her room and closed the door behind her. Her body slowly descended, until her butt was pressing against the cold floor.

She looked up at the ceiling, unable to believe it was all real.

She found the courage to leave the room only an hour later.

With uncertain steps, she reached the garden where his parents were watering the plants. Her mother had always loved nature and since they moved into that house, she had decided to fill the garden. Her father, every nightfall, helped to water them.

“Hi,” she said in a weak voice.

"What do you need, farfallina?" her father had asked, smiling at something her mother had said. Diana couldn't see her because she had moved away to reach the plants at the end of the garden.

Seeing his daughter's unusual attitude, her father approached her with a worried look.

“Did something happen?” He stopped in front of her and tried to put his hand on her shoulder. Diana backed away. "Diana?"

She bit her lip, her eyes filled with tears again. How could she tell him the truth? He wouldn't believe her.

She had looked up desperately at her father, begging him to understand without her saying anything, even though she herself knew it wasn't possible.

Her father put the hose in the watering can aside and bent down to hug her. "It's okay, baby," he promised her in a gentle voice. “I'm here.” Diana melted into his warm, welcoming arms. "Tell me what happened and together we'll solve it."

She nodded and her tears fell uncontrollably. “It's me,” she slurred. “He wants me.”

"Who?"

Her father grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away from him enough to be able to look at her face.

"Tamahime," she whispered. "Please, dad..." she took him by the arms, gripping his shirt tightly. “I need you to believe me.”

Her father observed her in silence.

"I promise you I'm not lying. It's me."

Her father clenched his jaw and his eyes, the same as Diana's, moved away from her for a few seconds. When they came back to her, they were hard and serious. "How do you know?"

“I dreamed it.” Diana knew she looked crazy. "I dreamed of that man. In one of the last dreams, he was calling me by that name. And he was telling me that he was coming. I'm sorry, dad. I didn't think…"

Unable to hold back any longer, she burst into desperate sobs.

Her father returned to hug her. "Everything will be fine," he promised again.

"Do you believe me?" she asked, afraid he would say no.

“Of course, I believe you.” He kissed her on the head. “I need you to tell me everything you know, Diana,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. "Every single detail, even what seems irrelevant to you. Understood?"

Diana nodded weakly.

She told him everything about the man, starting from the first time he had appeared in her nightmares, up to the dream she had had a week before.

“Why is he looking for you?” her father wanted to know.

Diana mangled her lip, pressing in with her teeth until it bled. "I don’t know."

You know why, a voice insinuated itself into her head. Diana hated hearing it.

She had once believed it was God, but it was the voice itself that had denied it.

It was not normal to hear voices inside one's head that weren't their own. Diana had learned to keep that secret to herself, not even revealing it to her family.

Her father looked up and consoled her. "It's okay." His eyes moved to look for Diana's mother. "Farfallina, I need you to go to your room for a moment, okay? I have to talk to your mom. As soon as we're done, we'll get to you. Don't be afraid, Diana, everything will be fine."

"Promise?" she asked hesitantly.

"I promise." He gave her another kiss. “Now, go.”

Diana turned and started running. When she reached her room she threw herself under the bed covers. There, she waited hours for her parents to come get her.

Her waiting became unnerving, her head hurt and she had to use the bathroom. She got up to go to the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled it down.

With a confused expression, she stared at her hand.

The realization of what was happening hit her slowly.

She turned the handle harder, desperately trying to open the door.

"Mom! Dad!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, hitting the locked door.

Her voice spread throughout the house, reaching the four people gathered around the kitchen table.

The man sitting at the head of the table looked with a stern expression at his two other children, who were trembling. "You can't go to her," he ordered. “Diana will be locked in her room until Thursday.”

The woman sitting at the other end of the table raised her chin. “It's for her own good,” she said, trying to convince herself. “We won't let anyone hurt her again.”

Diana screamed until her voice was gone.

She pressed her forehead against the door. "Please," she tried to say. Every syllable irritated her dry throat.

Before getting up from the table, her mother sought her children's gaze. “Was I clear?”

Neither of them dared to meet her terrifying eyes.

Without another word, she reached the door of her daughter's room. She opened it and Diana immediately rushed to hug her. Her mother crouched on the ground to be able to welcome her frightened little girl. She whispered reassuring words. “Diana, amore mio, you must listen to me,” she told her, cupping her face with one hand. "From tonight you have to stay in your room. Even during the day."

"What about school?"

Her mother shook her head.

“But I have a test tomorrow,” Diana objected.

“School isn't important right now,” she said bluntly.

Diana tried to add more, unable to understand why she was being punished.

“Listen to me,” her mother interrupted, holding her tighter. "The man we saw on TV has no good intentions. To get you, he is willing to do a lot of harm to other people."

"What?" Diana whispered, incredulous.

“That's why you need to stay here, where we can keep you safe.”

Diana lowered her gaze. “Will he hurt other people?” she repeated, wanting to make sure she had heard correctly.

Her mother's look seemed desperate. “I don't care,” she cut short. “You are more important.”

Diana shook her head. "I have to…"

“You must remain in your room until your father and I give you permission to leave.”

"But… mom…"

Her mother squeezed her face until her nails hurt Diana. “You can cry all you want,” she warned. “I won't let anyone hurt you again.”

Diana was allowed to go to the bathroom while her mother prepared the room. When she returned, she realized that her mother wasn't joking.

It was three days before she was allowed out again.

The first face she saw was her brother's.

He offered her a hand which she hesitantly took.

She had screamed for hours on end over those three days, begging whoever was listening to release her. She had to go to Him. She couldn't stay there and let other people get hurt. During those nights she had never closed her eyes. He had continued to creep into her dreams, ordering her to come and telling her all the horrible things he would do if she didn't show up.

On the third day, when her brother came to take her out of her, her voice was gone and Diana felt like she no longer had any energy left.

Her brother, seeing that she was struggling to walk, picked her up on his shoulder and carried her to the kitchen, where her parents and sister were waiting for her around the table.

They ate with the television off.

Diana only found out what had happened at the assembly the following day, after asking her classmates. "They're all dead. It was broadcast live on television because of the many cameras already in the room."

---

Diana was twelve the first time someone had died because of her.

Chapter Text

Every muscle in Oscar's body was sore, with a heightened concentration in his head, which was tingling from the heavy blow he had received.

He was lying with his back on the ground, his eyes still unable to distinguish what was above him. He had to wait another few minutes before he was able to roll over onto his stomach and stand up.

“What the fuck happened?” Yoo's voice reached him distant and unclear.

Oscar managed to put his weight on his legs and pull himself up. His body vibrated and he was on the verge of losing his balance and falling.

Whatever had happened had destroyed him badly.

Had they been hit by a bomb?

He looked around, trying to analyze the damage. Whiskey was sitting on the ground, staring into space; Ghost was leaning against the wall, his hands resting on it for some stability.

He shifted his gaze to Yoo, who had his back to him, as he gripped the kitchen counter. Oscar opened his eyes wide, discovering that all the furniture had been shattered, the plates and glasses had fallen to the floor. Only little remained of the kitchen structure. He noticed that the refrigerator seemed intact, except for the door which had gone from straight to curved inwards.

"A bomb?" he muttered hoarsely. Talking hurt him.

He looked at his body, searching for wounds, but other than his internal pain he found nothing.

Whiskey struggled to his feet. "Where is Diana?"

Oscar's gaze darted around the destroyed room, desperately searching for the girl. He only counted their five bodies, but not hers. He noticed that the window panes had exploded outwards. He tried to find glass inside, to explain how the bomb had entered the room, but he couldn't find anything.

"We must look for her," Siva ordered impatiently. Of all of them, he seemed the least shaken by what had happened. He moved nimbly, reaching the main room with ease.

To move, Oscar had to lean against the wall and crawl. Every movement was painful.

Siva, then accompanied by Ghost, went around the apartment failing to find her. When he returned to the kitchen, he ran to Oscar, who understood from his angry look that he was in danger.

"It's all your fault!" he shouted, reaching out to grab Oscar's neck, who immediately stepped back. “I should have killed you!”

Ghost grabbed Siva from behind, holding him away from the other, who continued to back away. “Why is it my fault?” he shouted, getting angry at the accusation. He hadn't done anything wrong. He had only annoyed her hoping to get some information from her. He couldn't have foreseen that someone would attack them with a bomb!

"You're the one who pushed her to use her power, you moron!"

Ghost, taken by surprise, loosened his grip on him and Siva yanked himself free of his arms. He reached Oscar, stopping just inches from his face. It was the first time since they had known each other that Oscar had seen him so angry. It was difficult for him to accept that he was dealing with the same man who had suffered a panic attack on the plane.

"What are you talking about?" Yoo asked him, taking a step towards them. “Siva?”

Siva clenched his jaw and turned his face to glare at Yoo. "She is a Tamahime," he said as if it were obvious to everyone what it meant.

“Explain yourself,” Whiskey ordered.

Siva rolled his eyes. “It means that she has been blessed with the powers of a very, very, very powerful deity,” he spat out the words angrily, and it seemed to Oscar that his eyes had gone from brown to almost red.

No one said anything and Siva looked back at Oscar. He seemed ready to destroy him. “And you, you stupid idiot, made her escape.”

Oscar felt all the energy he had in his body slip away and he was sure he was on the verge of fainting.

“We still don't know if she ran away,” Yoo pointed out. Oscar noticed the insecurity in his tone and face.

Siva raised his hands. "So where is she?"

“She might have been kidnapped,” Yoo raved.

"By who?"

“By the people who are looking for her!” Yoo insisted.

"Why did they leave us alive? Tell yourself all the lies you want, idiot.”

Whiskey pointed a finger at him. "Hold your tongue, boy."

Siva's expression hardened. Oscar waited for him to respond in kind, but Siva clenched his fists and remained glaring at Whiskey with his red irises.

“We should look for her,” Oscar murmured, rubbing the back of his aching neck.

“She left everything here,” Ghost said. "Phone, bag, credit card. She only took the cash."

She didn't want to be tracked down.

“Is the car still out here?” Whiskey asked, pointing at the door and walking quickly towards it.

Oscar followed him, unable to think for himself because his mind was still shaken and confused. All five went out into the street.

“It isn't,” concluded Whiskey. “It was here,” he added, pointing to the empty spot where they had parked the car that morning.

Why did she take the car? Perhaps to prevent them from following her.

Oscar brought his hands to his face, rubbing his muscles.

The five men stood staring at the empty parking lot. Oscar met Whiskey's disappointed gaze and had to lower his own, ashamed of himself. He wanted to scream at all of them that it wasn't his fault, that the only one to blame for that situation was the stupid girl. She was the one who had kept her identity hidden, putting them all in danger. Instead, he swallowed his anger and pride, and remained silent.

“We need to contact Artemide,” Yoo said, turning to go back into the apartment.

“Why?”

Yoo glared at Oscar, warning him to keep quiet. “Because maybe she can track her down.”

"And then?" Ghost said.

Everyone turned to him.

Ghost's eyes were icy as usual, but Oscar felt the hairs on his body stand on end, as if he could sense the anger emanating from his companion. He hoped to never find himself on the wrong side of him.

“We'll find her,” Yoo insisted, pursing his lips as if he were tired of wasting time talking to them.

“Why should we find her?” Ghost asked. His body was stiff, his fists clenched and his shoulders tense. "She ran away. She obviously doesn't want our help. Why should we look for a brat?”

Yoo advanced towards him, ready to face him. "Because it's our job!"

Ghost remained impassive. “Not anymore,” he said through gritted teeth. “We don't have to follow her.”

“And the million?” Whiskey asked him, observing him with a curious look.

“Fuck the money.”

“Are we really wasting our time on shit like this?” Siva blurted out. "We must look for her immediately! We've already wasted two hours. She could be anywhere!”

Oscar was surprised to discover that they had been unconscious for so long.

“I'm not coming with you,” Ghost declared, surprising them. “I'm getting out of it.”

"Are you serious?" Oscar wanted to know.

Ghost lowered his chin. “I have no intention of continuing to chase after her.”

He backed away. Without seeking their gazes, but raising his chest proudly, he walked away.

The other four watched him go, unable to believe he was actually doing this. Oscar turned to the door of their apartment building, barging inside. “More money for us,” he shouted. In a lower voice, he added, "When I'll found her..." he clicked his tongue.

As soon as they returned, Oscar went to look for the girl's phone. He found it on the nightstand next to the double bed.

“What's the pin?” Yoo asked, moving closer to him to look at the lock screen.

“Her birthday,” Oscar replied. In unison, Whiskey said, “0208.”

They entered the address page, finding four numbers. Only one of whom had already been called. Since none of the numbers were saved with a name, he hoped it was Artemide. He made the call and placed the phone in the center of the broken circle he had created with the other four.

The speakerphone warned them that the number was unreachable at that moment.

Oscar cursed loudly. "Now what the fuck are we supposed to do? She could be anywhere.”

“We need a clue to know where to start looking for her,” Yoo added, running a hand through his hair.

"How far could she have traveled in two hours?" Siva asked.

"With the car? A lot. She may have returned to France" explained Yoo.

“Why should she go to France?” Whiskey mused, taking a few steps back and looking up.

“Because she wanted to get as far away from us as possible?” Yoo replied.

Whiskey narrowed his eyes. "No," he said. “I don't think it makes sense for her to wander off aimlessly.”

"What if she went back to the lake? To complete the challenge?” Siva surmised.

"Challenge?" Oscar repeated, but Siva waved him away.

“We could start looking there,” Whiskey suggested.

“It would be too obvious for her to go to the lake,” Yoo thought, glaring angrily at the phone. "If she's the least bit intelligent, she has run away."

Oscar's eyes widened as he was struck by an epiphany. “What if she's going back home?”

"In Italy?"

He nodded.

“She said she chose to leave,” Whiskey specified. "And that she was doing it to protect her family. It would be stupid to go back."

Their thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. Oscar immediately pressed to answer the call.

"Hello?" he asked, speaking urgently. “I'm looking for Artemide.”

There was silence on the other side and Oscar had time to exchange a look with the others. "Who am I talking to?" He recognized the lieutenant's voice.

“Spider.”

"Where is Diana?"

"We also would like to know," he said, annoyed by the woman's coldness.

“Did you lose her?” He heard a hint of concern in her voice.

“She ran away,” Yoo replied. “There was an argument and she left.”

From the other end, they heard a sigh of frustration.

“She left everything here: backpack and credit card,” Whiskey added.

"It's not a problem," the lieutenant answered, interrupting him abruptly. "Give me an hour. I should be able to find her.”

"How?" Yoo asked.

"Just in case something like this happened, I put a GPS signal on the wristwatch that she always carries with her. She doesn't know about it" she explained. "I'll call you back as soon as I find her."

Without saying anything else, she ended the call.

Oscar was sure that he couldn't wait a whole hour without doing anything. Luckily for him, the lieutenant called back only half an hour later.

“She left the car in front of the Bonn station and from there took a train to Zurich,” she told them. "I think she is returning to Italy. You mustn't let her."

Oscar looked proudly at the others, telling them with a smirk I told you so.

“Where is she at the moment?” Siva asked.

"Her train left forty minutes ago. You should be in time to reach her when she arrives at the station and before she takes the next train." There was silence for long seconds and Oscar thought that the call had ended without them realizing it. “You have to find her.”

He felt like laughing. Of course, they would find her.

And catch her.

When she finally returned to their hands, Oscar would make sure not to lose sight of her again. He wouldn't let her move even a few feet away from him.

“Consider it done,” Whiskey replied, turning off the line.

Oscar met the gazes of his teammates. For the first time since he had met them, they all seemed determined and ready to fight.

He tried not to think about Ghost's betrayal. Once the job was finished he would take care of it. They would find him and he would regret leaving.

Whiskey took a cigarette out of the pack he had put in his pocket. He lighted it, not caring that he was still inside the apartment. In the half-hour they had spent waiting, he and Yoo had tried to tidy up the kitchen, but in the end, they had given up, knowing that it was impossible to clean up the mess created by the bomb.

“We have a girl to find,” Whiskey said, serious and confident.

“Let the hunt begin,” Siva replied, rubbing one of the many bracelets around his right wrist.

Chapter Text

Diana was tired.

Sitting against one of the walls of the Lugano train station, her gaze was focused on the few people who were still running or walking to reach the trains.

She only needed one more train before she could get home. For once, living in northern Italy would be to her advantage.

The first direct train that would have allowed her to reach Milan would leave at ten, so she still had an hour available. If she had instead chosen to take trains with changes, there were certainly more options.

The problem? Diana was exhausted and short on money.

She had tried to buy a ticket, but the price was too high and all her money had gone because of the two previous trains she had taken. She could have gotten on anyway and hoped not to encounter a train controller or just gotten a fine, hoping that they wouldn't throw her off the train.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

The situation she was in was those assholes' fault. Their addiction to cigarettes had taken more money out of her than Diana had anticipated. In one day, at least five packages were finished. She hoped that a fatal disease would kill them as a consequence. They deserved it.

She stood up, hoping that walking a little might clear her mind and help her to find a solution. However, walking reminded her of another problem: hunger. She hadn't eaten since that morning. And her stomach was starting to churn as if it was trying to eat itself.

Diana found herself shuffling on the ground. Her tiredness made her blink slowly. Maybe if she hadn't had sleepless nights, she would have felt better. Again, it was their fault.

Since she had left she had stopped sleeping soundly. Even when she had fainted she hadn't been able to rest. Nightmares had kept her in a state of weakness.

The worst nights had been when she had been forced to share a bed with two of them. Those assholes had stuck to her like shitty mussels, preventing her from moving. She had felt their breaths on her neck and face, their hands on her.

Disgusted, she was tempted to spit on the ground.

She still couldn't understand why the Goddess had chosen them. And above all, how the fuck had she dared to expect Diana to be able to tolerate them? It was already a miracle that she hadn't used her power on them before that day.

She had barely contained herself.

The moments when she had felt close to exploding had been too many for her mental health.

Maybe it was useless for her to care about her health after everything that had happened in her life.

Diana raised her hood and put her hands in her pockets. She didn't want to keep thinking about them, their mere existence was a waste of time and space.

She left the station to get some air, aware that she was putting herself in danger. A young woman alone, at night, near a train station? It looked like she was praying to be assaulted.

She didn't care.

She started walking without a specific destination. Maybe she could have walked by a restaurant that was closing and begged them to give her something to eat.

If only she had had her phone with her, at least she could have listened to some music. She had to leave it behind because it was a lead that would guide the assholes and the lieutenant to her.

Were they looking for her? She doubted it.

They had probably given up on the money and split up.

Great.

She didn't want to see them anymore.

Above all, she didn't want to see that asshole Siva. She had helped him out of a lot of panic attacks, and what had she gotten in return? Shitty treatment.

That was what happened when one trusted a man.

She felt like laughing.

Years had passed since she promised herself that she would never trust a man again, and yet here she was making that mistake again. Now she was paying the consequences.

She didn't even have a book with her that she could read.

She huffed, frustrated.

She should have listened to her sister when she told her it was a bad idea. Diana had thought she was prepared. Yes, it was a bad idea, all right, but what other options did she have? If she had stayed home and waited for Him to arrive, she would have put everyone in danger.

She stared at the wall of the building she was passing by, wanting to hit it until her head split open.

The plan she had built had gone up in smoke because of the assholes. Why hadn't Spider remained silent? Diana hoped she had hurt him a lot. Maybe he had hit the wall with such force that he died.

How had they discovered she was the Tamahime?

She stopped at a light and closed her eyes, forcing the thought out of her head.

It wasn't important anymore. Their work was done. She was going home and would create another plan, probably just as flimsy. Maybe she would have been able to contact her brother.

Ever since that idiot had joined the Italian army, talking to him and seeing him had become complicated. All because he was a proud idiot.

She crossed the street, knowing that two men were following her.

She had noticed them immediately, as soon as they moved towards her.

A white man, probably Eastern European, and a dark-skinned man who she guessed was from the Middle East or North Africa. They had been following her since she had left the station.

Diana continued to lead them through the cold, calm Lugano night. Since she had never been to that city, it wasn't easy to find an isolated street to slip into to face them.

She shifted her gaze, analyzing the buildings she was walking near.

To cheer up that night she really needed a little violence.

Even though she had lost control of herself hours earlier, she could feel her power stirring within her. A little scream would have been enough to knock them out. Then, maybe, if she was in the mood, she would explode their balls with the heels of her shoes.

It wasn't the first time she had done it, so she would be acting from experience.

Imagining herself causing pain to clearly evil men made her feel better. When she finally chose an alley, her heart filled with impatience.

She clenched her fists inside her sweatshirt pocket and took a deep breath.

You know what to do.

If she had come to this it was all the fault of those five assholes. She had really worked hard to try to establish a semi-normal relationship with them! But they couldn't keep quiet. Every time Spider opened his mouth, Diana wanted to kick him in the balls. Ghost annoyed her too, but at the same time, she enjoyed making him angry. Maybe she shouldn't have given him a hickey, because she hadn't actually asked him for consent. In her defense, her mind had been clouded by alcohol.

She stopped at the wall at the end of the alley.

It smelled like piss. Fucking shitty men. Were there creatures more disgusting than them? Diana struggled to believe that she was of the same species as them.

Without turning, she sensed the two men enter the alley.

And then, honestly, those assholes needed to get off their pedestal. Yes, they were attractive and strong, but that didn't make them invincible. What had they expected? To be able to look at her like an attractive hole without her responding in the slightest?

The audacity!

She missed going out with her friends and not having to worry about having annoying eyes on her. With them, she could be herself without fear of being judged. Not like what happened the previous evening with the five assholes.

Diana hoped that her sister had given them the letters that she had prepared. Not having much time available before leaving for that mission, Diana had had to settle for writing letters to each of her friends, instead of going out with them one last time as she would have preferred. She imagined their reactions.

“Are you lost, doll?” His English accent was terrible and she struggled to understand what he said.

She made a strangled noise, annoyed by the interruption, and remained still.

“We just want to help you.”

Yes, of course. She had heard that lie a thousand times before.

Since she needed them to get a little closer, she continued to face the wall.

She only turned around when there was half a meter of distance between her and the first man. She looked at them, disgusted by their excited expressions. How many other women had they hurt? Maybe she should have killed them. Nobody would miss them.

She looked at the nearest man, thinking about the best position to put herself in to hit them both with a scream. She took a step to the right, placing herself in a position that would allow her to attack even the man who had remained a few steps behind.

Meanwhile, the man who knew a few words of English continued to talk nonsense and approached her.

Diana began counting backward. She could already imagine the noise they would make when she broke their cocks. If she had had a lighter with her she would have set it on fire.

She opened her mouth, feeling the scream gathering in her throat.

She stopped suddenly.

A third man was not what she had expected.

He was too far away to be knocked out by the shock wave, which would only have moved him backward without injuring him.

She began to curse in her mind.

In those seconds of hesitation, the man who had spoken to her placed his hand on her shoulder, obscuring her view with his size.

How the fuck had she not noticed a third man? When had he appeared?

Maybe she could use less energy for this scream and then use the rest for a second. This would reduce the strength of each scream, but allow her to escape. Her safety was more important than a few cocks left unbroken and balls unbursted. She wasn't sure she would be able to, because it would be the first time she had to use the scream three times in the same day.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs.

"What is happening here?"

Both men turned to look at the third.

Diana felt as if she were looking at a shadow that had emerged from the night itself.

He was tall, black and imposing.

“Nothing,” the man replied, tightening his grip on Diana's shoulder. “We're just helping a girl who's lost.” He turned to look at her as if he expected to intimidate her into supporting his lie.

Regardless of the consequences, Diana took his wrist and moved so she could look at the shadow man. “They want to hurt me,” she said. “Are you going to join them or will you try to help me?”

The man who was holding her pushed her backward, causing her back to hit the wall. He tried to punch her in the face, but Diana was quick to avoid him. The man's dark knuckles hit the hard wall and he cursed.

Even before he could react and scream, the shadow man had thrown himself against the one who had touched her. Diana admired in amazement the violence with which he hit him right in the middle of his face. Diana heard a crack when his head hit the wall and her skin crawled.

The shadow man turned his black eyes on the other man, who, after a moment's hesitation, ran away.

Diana stood there staring at him. She hadn't expected to get help. On the contrary, she had hoped that he would come closer to hurt her so that she could hurt him first.

“Are you okay, kid?” he asked, taking a step towards her. His voice was thoughtful, but Diana recognized the harshness of a grown man who had been through a lot. From his accent, she guessed that he was from the United States.

Awkwardly and looking down, she backed away. "Yes, thanks."

“What the fuck were you doing in an alley alone at night?” he insisted, looking at her with the anger of a parent scolding his foolish daughter.

Diana didn't answer, knowing that any excuse would be against her.

The man, who looked even more like a shadow up close than from afar, put his hands on his hips. Whiskey did it often too, much more than the others. It was a pose that Diana strangely found attractive.

She swallowed hard, tired of thinking about them. Couldn't they just leave her alone?

"Where were you going?" the man asked, taking a few steps back to give her more space. “Let me take you there.”

Diana found his thoughtfulness kind. “At home,” she answered honestly.

"And where is it?" The man turned his attention to the one lying on the ground, quickly analyzing his condition. Diana wondered if he was dead.

"Northern Italy," she said, remaining vague.

The man raised a black eyebrow. “You're a long way from home.”

“I had an argument with my mother and ran away,” she admitted. It wasn't that different from what had happened. “But I think it's time for me to go back home.”

"And how did you plan to get back?"

Diana studied him before answering, trying to figure out what kind of man he was. He was dressed completely in black, from the shirt to the cargo pants, from the bomber jacket to the combat boots. Was he an undercover cop? She wasn't stupid enough to let her guard down just because she had a cop in front of her. She had heard too many stories about cops who had used their power to harm the people they were sworn to protect. The man wore a wedding ring, simple and golden, on his ring finger. A family man? He too was a bit far from home. Perhaps he had moved because of a special mission.

"Are you OK?" he asked, reading her silence as fear.

“No,” she confessed.

Even though he had just "saved" her, Diana decided she couldn't trust him. There was something about him, she couldn't explain what, that was warning her to stay away from him.

“Thanks for helping me,” she said, forcing a smile. "It's better if I go back to the station. I'll take a train."

She walked past him, intent on exiting the alley.

The man started to follow her. “Wait,” he said aloud. "I have a car. I can take you home."

Keeping herself from laughing in his face wasn't easy. Did he think he was dealing with a stupid girl?

Perhaps the shadow man was with the other two. He had sent them ahead to approach her, then he had come to her aid and now he expected her to trust him enough to get into his car. Would he kidnap her or would he simply rape her?

She didn't care to know.

“No, thanks, you've already done enough for me,” she said, without turning. She walked briskly toward the street, sure he was stalking her.

The man tried to get her attention again, but she refused to stop. His insistence did not give her the impression of being born of thoughtfulness and generosity. He wanted something from her. And Diana wasn't willing to find out what it was.

She left the alley and started running towards the station.

She heard the man swear. "Diana!" he screamed. “I just want to talk to you.”

Diana turned towards him and nearly tripped over a hole in the sidewalk. What the fuck did he want? Who was he and how did he know her name? All questions she couldn't ask.

“Please,” she said instead. “I just want to go home.”

Before she could cross the crosswalk, a car pulled into her path, forcing her to stop. Two equally large and scary men emerged.

Diana was sure she was in serious trouble.

She remembered the Goddess' warning when she had entered the lake. "A group of men from the American and English secret services managed to trace your identity. Be careful."

How had they found her?

She began to curse under her breath, even though she knew it wouldn't do her any good.

She allowed panic to creep into her muscles and started shaking like a leaf. “Please,” she repeated, looking from the two new men to the one approaching behind her. “I don't want any trouble.”

Her eyes, stinging from the tears that were gathering, moved around the situation she was in, desperately looking for an escape route. When she noticed a camera on one of the light poles she knew she was in serious danger.

Not being able to use her power put her in a very delicate situation. If she had screamed, the camera would have captured it. Evidence that would be used against her.

Diana wasn't sure she could find a way to escape.

She had to play her part well. "My name is Marzia and I just want to go home, please." She was disgusted by her own pathetic tone, but she hoped it was worth it.

The shadow man stopped behind her. Diana only turned her head. “Nothing will happen to you,” he promised, lying. “We just want to talk to you, Diana."

"I don't know what you want from me," she said in a trembling voice. «My name is Marzia and I am twenty-one years old. I was born in…"

“Stop lying to us, whore.”

Her gaze snapped to one of the two men who had gotten out of the car. He was white, with an English accent, but not the same as Ghost. He wore clothes similar to those of the shadow man. His expression was annoyed and his features were rough.

If the situation had been different, she wouldn't have let him insult her and get away with it. She fell silent, shifting her gaze to the shadow man, who was glaring at his partner.

“Get in the car without complaining,” the asshole insisted.

Diana studied the black van behind him, sure that as soon as she stepped foot in there she would die.

And it was all Spider's fault.

She couldn't let those men capture her or she would let Spider win. She had to escape from there, find him, and kick him in the balls.

"Please," she tried again. She reached forward with her hands and trembled her lower lip. Slowly, she moved to the side. Probably if she had started to run after her they would have been able to catch up with her, but she had no other options. She had to find an alley without cameras and use her power. “I just want to go home.”

Since he had understood her intentions, the shadow man approached her from behind. Diana didn't have time to run. He grabbed her by the neck and inserted a syringe into her flesh.

Diana held her breath.

Within seconds, the drug he had inserted took effect.

The world before her clouded over, until it became a white veil. "I'll kill you all," she slurred before losing all feeling in her tongue.

She thought of her mother. Before leaving, after the heavy argument that had left a bad taste in her mouth, Diana had promised her that she would be careful and she would not put herself in danger. She had disappointed her. She always did.

As her eyelids closed, heavy as they had ever been, Diana wished she could see her family again. She had to tell them how much she loved them.

"Everything will be fine," a voice similar to her father's whispered to her. He used to say those same words all the time. But in the end, nothing was ever fine.

Diana felt her strength disappear. Large, rough hands lifted her from the ground.

Chapter Text

Simon was seventeen when he left home. He waited until he was old enough to join the army and run away, leaving his mother and older brother behind.

He was nineteen when he first came back home. In the two years he had been away, his home hadn't changed much. His brother had managed to leave, after finding a stable job in a nearby city. His mother, however, had remained there.

She was the one to open the door. Her pale eyes widened in surprise and Simon gulped as he saw the huge bruise on her face. The confirmation that everything was still the same and that, in the days he would spend there, he would go back to reliving his father's abuse.

He was tempted to turn back and leave.

But he was no longer the same cowardly boy who had run away from home.

Not only had he grown taller than his father, he had also been trained to fight. Simon was sure that his father would not do much if he was present.

His mother invited him in, leading him to the kitchen to offer him some tea. Simon accepted and sat with her around the table, listening to her talk about local gossip and how his older brother was doing. He comes to visit me almost every weekend, you know? Simon immediately noticed the insinuation behind that sentence, the sadness that he, unlike his brother, never showed.

Audrey Riley was a slim woman, half Simon's height, with shoulder-length dark blonde hair. Simon had always been told that he looked like her. Although he didn't like that comparison, it was still better than being the exact copy of that man.

Their conversation, peaceful and shy, was interrupted prematurely by the arrival of his father.

Simon understood that it could only be him from the violence with which the front door was slammed and from his mother's gasp. Simon gave her a disappointed look. He had once believed that his mother was a victim like them, forced to suffer the abuse of a stronger, bigger man. Only as he grew up did he understand that she was an accomplice and any compassion he had felt towards her vanished.

His mother had chosen that man. She had married him and had two children.

The abuse they had suffered for years was also her fault.

Simon fixed his gaze on the kitchen door, awaiting the man's arrival with a certain amount of anxiety. He no longer feared it. He had fought and defeated worse men. The scars he proudly wore all over his body were proof of that.

His father threw open the door, stopping in the doorway as soon as he realized Simon was there.

"You're back," he told him, as if he were accusing him of a crime punishable by death.

Simon remained impassive, staring at him without saying anything.

The man's attention shifted to his wife, who trembled. “You didn't warn me.”

Simon stood up and his father gripped the handle more tightly, intimidated by his new size. “It was a surprise,” he said, mocking them. Bearing his new power made Simon feel better, stronger.

He left the room, having no reason to stay there. Behind him, he heard his father's screams as he railed against his mother.

Simon did nothing.

He stayed home just long enough to annoy his father and remind his family that he existed. Over the weekend his brother stopped by their house and Simon was happy to see him again. They told each other how they had spent those years and Simon noted down his new address, so he could write him letters. He doubted that he would do it, but his brother insisted. He told him that he had fallen in love with a beautiful and nice woman. You have to know her! Oh, I'm sure you'll like her. Simon promised him that he would come home more often and that they would organize a dinner with her too.

He was more than happy to leave again.

---

Simon was twenty-two when he discovered the truth.

Together with some of his teammates, he went out to enjoy a quiet evening in a local pub. They had only been in the south of England for a few days and would stay there for two more. They chose a small pub, quiet and close to their base. They sat at one of the larger tables and ordered beers. Even Simon, who didn't drink often, gave in and took one. His teammates celebrated the victory from the last mission. Simon felt calm.

They went for a second round of beers. Simon got up to order them, he waited near the counter to collect them and bring them to their table. One of the waitresses struck up a conversation with him.

Initially, he didn't pay much attention to her. She was almost twenty years older than him and had a ring on her left ring finger. Since he wasn't interested in sleeping with a married woman, he responded in monosyllables.

Until she said something that caught his attention.

“You look just like your mother.”

Simon froze, his alarmed eyes trained on her. The woman smiled shyly at him.

“Audrey,” she added, as if she wanted to prove she was telling the truth. “We were friends once.”

Simon remained silent, not knowing what to do or say. The embarrassed woman continued to speak, bringing him further proof that she had indeed known his mother.

"How is she doing?" she asked in a sad, almost guilt-filled tone.

Simon tightened the grip on his beer. He was supposed to bring the others to his teammate, but the woman captured his full attention. "I don't know." It was a long time since he had come home.

The woman took a rag and started cleaning the counter. It was as if she wanted to find an excuse not to look at him and wanted to distract herself. "What about him? Is he still alive?" she had asked in disgust.

He imagined that she was talking about his father, and replied that he was.

The woman made a weird face and Simon understood that she knew what a beast that man was. He felt an unhealthy anger cloud his brain. Why did people know about him but never did anything to stop him? Why had Simon and his brother been forced to live with him for years?

Simon grabbed his beer and the tray with the others. He started to leave.

The woman stopped him. "Wait!" Simon turned to look at her. “Can you tell your mother I'm sorry?”

"For what?" he wanted to know.

“I… I should have done more to help her.”

Simon took a deep breath. “She chose that man,” he said, feeling relief in letting off steam.

The woman's expression transformed into surprise and anger. "What?"

Simon put the beers down, before dropping them to the floor. "She chose my father," he repeated. “Don't feel guilty about her mistakes.”

The woman's face was pale. She was left staring at him with her mouth open. “You don't know,” she said finally.

Frowning at her (around that time, his face was not yet hidden by a mask), he placed both hands on the counter and looked at her with a hard gaze. "I do not know what?"

The woman stepped back and looked away. "She…" she stopped. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand and glanced at Simon again. Her eyes were shining. "She didn't choose him."

Simon's body stiffened as he waited for the woman to speak.

He heard an unbelievable story.

Simon took some money from his wallet and threw it on the counter. Unable to say anything to either the woman or his teammate, he left the pub and called a taxi to go home.

Was it possible that he had been wrong all those years?

He let himself be taken to the street where his parents lived, and from there he walked in the rain. He stopped in front of the door and hesitantly rang the doorbell. Every part of his soul hoped that his mother would come to open, because if he had come, Simon wasn't sure he would have been able to stop himself from killing him at that very moment.

As soon as he saw his mother's face, Simon fell to his knees, hitting the hard floor.

His mother reached him, scared for his well-being. “Simon?” She took his face in her hands, looking at him with the caring eyes of a parent who loves her child with all of herself. "What happened? What are you doing here? It's two in the morning! Come in, I'll make you some tea."

Why was she still so attentive to him? After everything he had said and after he had abandoned her…

His mother tried to lift him, but Simon pushed her away.

He grabbed her wrists and looked at her desperately. “I'm sorry…” His voice was barely louder than the rain that was still falling.

His mother's eyes looked at him carefully. "For what?"

"For everything." Simon's heart was shattered. He forced himself to stand up and looked down at her. The shame he was feeling for himself made his body tremble. “I know what he did to you.”

His mother lowered her gaze, a humiliated expression on her face. Simon felt worse. “What…” her voice broke. "What do you know?" Then, she suddenly turned to look inside the house. She took Simon's hand. “We can't talk about it here.”

She went inside to look for an umbrella and then went out into the rain. Simon took the umbrella from her hand, thus saving her the trouble of holding it high enough for both of them. He made sure she was always covered, even at the expense of getting wet.

With dark, full clouds above their heads, they crossed the desolate street of the neighborhood. Simon repeated what he had heard and his mother listened in silence.

---

Audrey was fourteen when her parents threw a party at their house and invited some friends. She, tired as she was, took refuge in her room, and fell asleep immediately. She woke up after a few minutes, surprised by a strange noise.

She looked up to find that one of her father's friends had entered her room without permission. She told him to leave. He threw himself on top of her, pushing her back into the mattress, and covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming.

Every attempt to squirm away from him was in vain.

She didn't tell anyone, hoping it wouldn't happen again.

But her parents threw other parties. And he went to each one.

Audrey was sixteen when she became pregnant with her first child. She had just turned seventeen when her parents forced her to marry the man who had raped her.

---

How dare he accuse her of being guilty? For years, he had discredited her, thinking that she was a fool and a coward. When, in truth, she had been forced to live a reality of abuse and suffering.

With a tired and fragile smile, she was almost relieved that he had finally discovered what had happened to her, his mother confirmed everything about what he had just said. She said that she should have told him about it a long time before, but that she had never found the right words or the strength to do so.

Simon stopped, unable to continue walking. He covered his mother's thin figure with the umbrella and exposed himself to the sky's crying. He felt the force of the rain making his legs weak and thought he was about to fall to his knees again.

His mother tried to cover him with the umbrella, even at the cost of getting wet herself.

“You will be free,” he promised, stepping back. He placed his other hand on his aching heart.

He wasn't sure if those on his mother's face were tears or raindrops.

Simon was twenty-two when his father died.

He hadn’t killed him. Simon was miles away, along with two other teammates of his who had sworn they had seen and spoken to him.

Simon knew nothing about the murder. He swore it to the policemen who were handling the case and to his superiors.

His father was a difficult man, full of debt and always drunk. After a week of investigation, the police closed the case. It had been a fight that ended badly and no one was interested in finding out what had happened to the man, how he had ended up in a landfill with his head split open and his dick amputated.

Simon showed up at the funeral a few days later. Standing next to his mother and brother, he watched in silence as the coffin was carried to the funeral home. They would burn that man's body and then scatter his ashes somewhere. His brother, laughing, proposed throwing them down the toilet. His mother said it was a good idea.

None of the three of them shed a single tear.

Chapter Text

Yoo couldn't accept it.

They had been a step away, almost reached her.

Then, that call came.

“They took her.”

Yoo felt the ground beneath his feet crumble. He was holding on to Whiskey's shoulder to keep his balance. Surprisingly, Whiskey hadn't chased him away and had even held him up, placing a hand on his arm. Without looking at him, he had held Yoo tightly, preventing him from falling.

Anger was the second emotion Yoo felt. Extremely intense, it had made him look up at Spider. He was the one to blame for that failure. If Diana, the girl they were supposed to protect, had been kidnapped it was all his fault. Yoo should have killed him when he had the chance.

He felt like he was about to take the gun and shoot him, but then he saw the emotions on Spider's face. Guilt is not an easy emotion to hide. His eyes, open and hurt, had sought Whiskey's first, as if he were begging his friend to offer him a way to fix what he had messed up.

None of them had expected Diana to be taken before they would manage to find her. She had only had a few hours ahead of them, which they had managed to recover as soon as they had found the car.

They had gone from hours apart to minutes.

Minutes that had nevertheless proven fateful.

And now Diana was in enemy’s hands, people who wanted to do to her things that Yoo didn't even dare imagine.

He had no idea what it meant to be a Tamahime until Siva explained it in detail. He had spoken of a deity known by many names who enjoyed spreading her powers around the universe. Yoo and the Americans had found his story impossible to believe.

There was only one God and He certainly didn't go around spreading strange powers.

“Then how do you explain what happened?”

Yoo hadn't responded.

Spider had said: "A bomb."

"A bomb?" Siva had repeated his words mockingly, as if he were listening to a fool scrambling.

Whiskey, who had driven first, had introduced himself into the conversation: "A bomb that went off from her. If it had been a normal bomb, there would have been broken glass inside the room, not outward. And we would have been seriously injured."

“What are you implying?” Spider had asked, sitting on Whiskey’s right.

Siva had spoken before Whiskey could. "Diana used her power!"

"And what would it be?" Even if Yoo wasn't convinced by his story, he had wanted to keep that path open too.

"I don’t know." Siva's gaze had become thoughtful, with a concentration that Yoo had only seen in him when he had touched Diana to take her away from the nightmare. “It could be air manipulation or telekinesis. I couldn't come to a firm conclusion yet because she only used it in front of me once."

Spider had turned to him. "Are you listening to yourself? You sound crazy!”

Siva had laughed, not in amusement but with hatred. “Oh, your people are known to call crazy anyone who is right and thinks a little outside the lines.”

Thinking that by your people he meant the Americans, Yoo had not intervened, mainly because he partly agreed with him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Spider had blurted out.

Realizing that his teammates' tempers were heating up, Yoo had stretched out his hands toward both of them. "Let's focus back on our girl, okay?"

And they focused on her, on finding her.

It had seemed too easy at first. The GPS on her watch was a useful signal, allowing them to keep tabs on her with almost exact precision. Suddenly, after moving for a long time, Diana had stood still for many minutes. They had reached the indicated point, but there was no trace of her. It was Whiskey who had found the watch discarded on the sidewalk.

Cursing, they wondered how she had managed to understand that they were following her and finding out about the GPS.

They had called the lieutenant, who greeted them with that sentence.

What were they supposed to do? They no longer had any way to track her and even if they did, it could have been too late.

The lieutenant ended the call, promising that she would contact them as soon as she found out anything. She left them in a heavy silence, full of tension and fear.

Yoo was not ashamed to admit it: he was afraid. A lot. A suffocating terror, as if it were his daughter who had been kidnapped.

He didn't hate Diana. He found some of her behaviors annoying and she was a difficult young woman, but he didn't think she deserved to end up in the hands of dangerous people, especially since he had discovered how treacherous was the man who had been persecuting her since she was twelve years old. Yoo had done the math and Diana was still a child when the massacre at the UN assembly had occurred. Spider had been an asshole and idiot to blame her for those deaths.

He was an idiot, end of the discussion.

An idiot who was already tormenting himself for his actions.

Even though Yoo was staring at him full of disgust, he decided not to inflict any more pain on him. Punching him would have been a mercy for Spider. It would have allowed him not to focus on the emotions that were eating him up from the inside.

“What…” Spider's voice trailed off. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, as if he was trying to control what he was feeling. "What do we do now?"

Whiskey gripped Yoo's wrist and then let go. Yoo thought he was telling him to get away from him, so he took a step back, making sure to place his weight on both feet so as not to lose his balance.

“I have no idea,” their captain admitted, looking up at the silent night.

With no clues to follow, they were completely in the dark about how to act.

Yoo looked around, desperately searching for some clue that would give them anything. His gaze was drawn upward. "Up there!" he shouted, allowing the excitement to animate him. "The cameras! Maybe they saw her."

Everyone looked up. “Yes...” Spider said. For a moment, Yoo saw a hint of hope on his face.

Whiskey shook his head. "And how do we find the videos? We would have to talk to the local police and explain to them why we need it" he reasoned. "It's too dangerous."

Yoo raised his arms and let them fall to his sides. “What other choices do we have?”

"I might have an idea," Siva interrupted them.

Surprised to hear Siva speak, the other three stared at him waiting for an elaboration.

Siva had his gaze fixed on the ground, his eyelids motionless. His expression was tense and serious, but with a perfect control that Yoo hadn't expected.

"It's an idea you'll find strange, but you have to trust me." His black eyes, full of confidence, focused on each of them. "We have to enter a church, or any place of worship. I need silence, a couple of candles, and a small space. The darker and more claustrophobic it is, the better.”

Spider gaped at him, and then he asked: "What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy moron?"

Siva raised a hand towards him. “If you breathe too loudly, I'll kill you.” He gave Spider a murderous look that was enough to make him realize he wasn't joking.

Yoo expected Spider to respond and start another conflict. Surprisingly, Spider stepped aside, merely looking towards Whiskey, who ignored him.

“What do you plan to do?” Whiskey asked, looking at Siva with pained eyes. If he was inciting Siva to do something crazy it meant that he was desperate and convinced that they couldn't follow any other path.

"We will ask the Goddess herself to guide us," he explained. His fists were clenched tightly and the confidence seemed to waver in his gaze. "I don't know if she will answer me... But we have to try. It would work better if one of you called her. The problem is that you don't know what to say or what to do. It would take too long for me to explain it to you. So, I have to try myself. It should work even if I'm the one to do it.” He pointed his head towards the sky and in a lower voice, added: "After all, she chose us."

"What are you talking about?"

Siva looked back at Yoo. “It doesn't matter,” he said, shaking his head. "We must hurry."

He turned around and started walking without waiting for them. Guessing that he was headed for the car, the others followed him.

When they reached it, Siva hurriedly climbed into the seat next to the steering wheel, which was then occupied by Yoo. Using Diana's phone, they found a small church in a nearby town. Since it was night, the streets were empty and it was quick for them to reach it. They found parking nearby so they could run to the car if they needed to. They reached the church, looking around with watchful eyes.

Predictably, they found the entrance locked. Spider pushed on the door, trying to force it open until Siva pushed him away abruptly. "I'll handle it." He pulled a knife from inside his combat boots and cut his hand. “Stand back.”

"What are you doing?" Whiskey asked him, looking at his wound dripping with blood and then at his concentrated face.

Siva ignored him. He placed his palm on the door lock.

Grabbing his shoulder, Yoo tried to push him away. “You're leaving your DNA!”

Siva did not move an inch. He stared at the door, his face intent on whatever he was doing.

The clicking of the door, too loud in the silent night, frightened them. Siva removed his hand from the lock and looked at it with satisfaction. “Come on,” he said, pushing at the dark wood, which opened under his force.

Yoo followed first. “How did you do it?”

Siva, smiling, studied his hand. His wound had stopped, but the blood was still staining his dark complexion. “Save your questions for when we find her.”

“No,” Whiskey snapped, stopping in front of the door he had closed behind him.

The church they were in was small and dark, with only dim light coming through the few windows above. They were narrow and made of dark glass that retained the light from the street lamps. The interior could barely contain twenty people, who would have to squeeze between the two rows of benches in front of the altar.

Siva, who had already reached the altar in just a few strides, turned towards Whiskey. He looked at him with a hostile expression. "We can't waste time," he reminded them.

“How did you open the door?” Whiskey wanted to know, taking a step forward. He moved slowly, with a caution one would reserve for a wild beast.

Siva didn’t hesitate to reply. “Magic is real and I know how to use it.” Without another word, and as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb of information on them, he turned to look at the altar.

"What?" Spider shouted. The echo reflected throughout the church, stunning them.

Siva looked at him with eyes so open that they seemed to be on the verge of popping out of their sockets. “Shut up and come closer!” His authoritative tone made Yoo's skin crawl, and he found himself moving his feet without having chosen to do so.

They gathered around the small wooden altar. A white lace fabric was covering its surface. Siva took it off and threw it disrespectfully behind him. He stared at the surface, giving Yoo the impression that he was studying its grain. "The candles," he ordered.

No one moved and Siva looked up at them. Sharp, impatient eyes fixed on Yoo, who again felt forced to move. He reached the two candelabras that stood on either side of the rows of benches. He filled his arms and hands with candles, and returned to the altar. He dropped them on the surface and Siva quickly distributed them to create a circle.

"One of us must occupy each side of the table," Siva explained, gripping the knife and meeting their gazes. "Put your hand in the center. I need your blood. It will hurt, but it is necessary to call her."

“Please remember that we need our hands,” Whiskey said, holding out his palm first.

Siva grabbed him to hold him still. "I know," he replied, annoyed by his constant interruptions.

With the tip of the knife, he plunged the blade into Whiskey's flesh. Yoo watched Whiskey frown, but he didn't complain, even though the wound in his hand was deep.

“Hold your hand in the center and let the blood fall.”

Siva let go of him and turned to Spider.

When it was his turn, Yoo clenched the fist of his other hand. The pain came stronger than expected. He resisted, forcing himself not to scream or withdraw his arm.

Siva, instead of simply cutting as he had done for them, stabbed his palm with the knife. Yoo let out a sound of surprise as he saw the blade pierce his teammate’s hand. Siva took it out without batting an eyelid. He didn't seem to have felt any pain at all.

They placed their bloody hands in the center and let their red flow together. A huge stain formed in the center of the altar.

"Now what?" Spider asked, studying the table with a cooing expression.

Yoo couldn't believe that they had listened to that crazy man.

"Everything is going according to plan." Siva, keeping his gaze fixed on the pool of blood, removed his hand. “We need to hold hands,” he said, extending one to Spider and the other to Yoo.

"Are you joking?" Spider blurted out, looking disgusted at the idea.

Siva glared at him and grabbed his hand, crushing it.

“Is it really necessary?” Whiskey asked.

"Yes."

Reluctantly Yoo took Siva and Whiskey's hands. Their gazes returned to Siva, waiting for his next instructions. Their teammate closed his eyelids and took a deep breath. When he reopened them the candles caught fire on their own. Yoo gasped, startled by the sudden light. Spider cursed loudly. The flames of the candles were of an unnatural height and brightness. They trembled between their joined bodies and Yoo wrinkled his nose at the heavy smell of smoke that wafted between them.

Siva began to speak in a language Yoo didn’t recognize. His attention remained focused on their blood and he continued talking for long minutes. Yoo felt his grip tighten until it became painful. He tried not to move away from the circle. Even if he tried, Yoo doubted that Siva would let him.

Siva's voice became increasingly louder and hoarse. His eyes raised towards the ceiling and, with them, the increasingly higher and hotter flames.

Siva stopped suddenly. Yoo examined his teammate with concern, almost tempted to lean toward to ask him what was going on.

Siva's head fell back with a terrifying crack and his eyes rolled back, showing their white sclerae.

Before Yoo could do anything, Spider screamed. "The blood!"

Yoo looked at the altar, gaping at what was happening. Their blood moved on its own, opening up to create numbers and letters. “What the fuck?” More curses left his mouth.

He gripped his teammates' hands more tightly and tried to keep Whiskey from breaking the circle.

“Coordinates,” their captain said. His expression of pure terror made Yoo feel less alone. “The phone,” he ordered. “We need to write them before they disappear.”

“Siva has it,” Yoo said.

Spider used his uninjured hand to search the pockets of their teammate, who appeared to be unconscious or... dead. Yoo tried not to think about it. He held onto his hand tightly, keeping Siva from collapsing to the ground. Whiskey grabbed the phone Spider was handing him and, as quickly as he could, wrote down the coordinates the blood was showing them.

“Done,” he said.

The flames all went out in the same second. Siva gasped and his head came back forward. He bent over and his hands, which had stopped holding those of the others, rested on the altar. "Did it work?" he asked in a very weak voice.

“Yes,” Spider replied.

Siva chuckled, panting from his exertion.

"What happened to you?" Whiskey asked, examining his exhausted body.

"It's hard to explain." He stopped to catch his breath. He straightened up on his back and a grimace of pain crossed his face. "You wouldn't understand."

Yoo studied his hand. Despite the deep wound, it had stopped bleeding. "Will you be fine? Can you move and fight?”

"Yes, I can." Siva licked his lips. “Actually, I can't wait to.”

Whiskey lowered his head, studying the coordinates entered on Diana's phone. "Good," he said. He brought the device between them, showing the map to everyone. “Because we have to go back to Germany and get our girl.”

Chapter Text

Diana's head was being pounded from the inside, as if her self was desperately trying to escape to the outside, not knowing that continuing on this path would kill her.

She tried to run a hand over her temples to massage them, but something was holding her wrists, squeezing and holding them in place behind her back.

She frowned and sighed, thinking one of those assholes had grabbed her in his sleep. She had always hated sleeping with other people, ever since the days when she was forced to share a bed with her siblings. Since they were older than her, they always forced her to occupy the center.

She moved her head to the side, trying to place it back on the pillow. Her body moved through the air, never colliding with anything.

More long minutes of confusion had to pass before Diana realized that she was not lying in a bed, but she was sitting in a chair.

She must have been there for hours because her body hurt.

She felt the need to stretch, but her limbs were bound and her movements restricted.

She opened her eyelids, hoping she could at least figure out where she was. Before her eyes, she realized she had a black blindfold or a heavy cloth. Something that was tied behind her head, squeezing her painfully.

Her heart raced in her chest, forcing her to give in to panic. Her eyes moved incoherently from one place to another, as if she hoped that would be enough to remove the blindfold. She squeezed her hands, digging her nails into her clammy palms, while vulgar, frightened whispers fell from her lips.

She closed her eyes again, pressing her eyelids together until they hurt, and she concentrated on recovering the memories of the previous night. She could only find pieces, blurry and confusing.

She had run away from someone. Had the assholes found her that quickly? No, it wasn't them. They were probably already continents away from her. It was better this way. Also, they wouldn't have kidnapped her and taken her who-knows-where. Unless they were working for the other people who were looking for her. They certainly weren't working for Him.

She continued to struggle to make sense of what she remembered. She managed to remember a black man. He was the one who had injected her with the drug that knocked her out. As soon as she saw him again she would kill him.

Her mind worked for another few minutes, gluing together broken pieces of memory until her senses told her that someone was approaching.

Diana held her breath, extending her other senses to make up for the lack of her sight.

She heard a door swing open. Making a risky calculation, based only on the power of the noise, she must have been between three and two meters away. It had been opened before with keys, just one lock, turned twice. Then, a handle had been turned down.

Heavy footsteps, that belonged to a tall, large man, someone who wasn't trying to hide his approach, sure that he was the person with the power in the situation they found themselves in. He came toward her, stopping about a meter away.

"Are you awake?" She recognized the voice of the shadowman.

She didn't answer. What was the point of making the interrogation easy for him?

She heard him sigh. Then, he moved to her left. He grabbed a chair, which he crawled over to her.

His body hit the chair with a thud and the man reached out to remove her blindfold.

Diana narrowed her eyes to adjust to the bright light of the room.

Her heart had slowed its beat, allowing her some peace and concentration. If she wanted to escape, she couldn't do it with a terrified mind. She needed to calm down, regain complete control. Even though she knew it wouldn't be easy or immediate.

“It's unfortunate that we have come to this,” the man said, resting his muscular arms on the back of the chair. Diana had never understood why some people, especially men, liked to put the chair backward, with the back in front of themselves. It was an uncomfortable position that forced one to stand with their legs apart and their back hunched.

She wasted no time in listening to his lie.

The man was doing his job. He didn't care about the consequences. Like a good soldier, he had turned off his brain, regardless of the morality of his actions.

“I just want to ask you some questions,” he continued.

Diana looked around the room, preferring to analyze it rather than listen to him. It was empty, probably a room stripped of all furniture only to become a perfect place for interrogations. They must have been planning to kidnap her for some time.

They were not in a police station. She felt more like she could be anywhere. It could have been a school, a house, or some public building.

The walls were white, free of defects, so she assumed they had been recently painted. The two windows present, both to her right, looked out onto the blue sky, with tree tops in the lower part. A day had already passed. Had they traveled for hours before reaching this place or had the drugs been knocking her out all that time? In the portion of the sky that she could see there was no sun, but she couldn't understand what time of the day it was.

From the view of the window, she could guess little: they probably were in an isolated area because there was no building nearby. Or they were on a very high floor. The building was probably surrounded by many trees, perhaps even nestled in a forest.

"Diana."

Her gaze snapped to him. “Marzia,” she corrected him.

The man frowned, annoyed by her lies. He waved the file in his hand. He lowered his gaze to study it and then turned it to her, showing the front page. Diana stared at a photograph of herself. "Let's not waste time, okay? I know who you are. Diana Chiara Spina."

"What do you want?" she spat, looking away and biting the inside of her cheek.

The man seemed satisfied that she had stopped lying. “As I was saying, I just want to ask you a few questions.”

Sure, just some harmless questions. That's why they had kidnapped her and tied her to a chair.

She stared at him without saying anything. The man took her reaction as an agreement to move forward. He turned the pages of the file and showed another to her.

Diana swallowed. She forced herself to look at His photo.

"Who is this man?"

Silence.

“Why is he looking for you?”

How did they find out about Him?

The man took the file away from her eyes and gave her a disappointed look. “Please cooperate,” he said. “The sooner we get our answers, the sooner you'll be free.”

Diana strongly doubted it.

“I don't know,” she said honestly. "I don't know anything about him. Neither his name nor where he comes from. I only know that he is looking for me."

The man analyzed her with his deep dark eyes. And Diana analyzed him.

He was a man in his fifties, with a round face emphasized by his close-cropped hair. His eyes were narrow, with heavy lids and large bags underneath. His broad, flat nose occupied the entire center of his symmetrical face, surmounting narrow lips surrounded by a thick black beard.

As if he realized she wasn't lying, the man moved on to the next question. “What exactly does he want from you?” He brought together his thick, black eyebrows, separated only by frown lines.

"I don't know." She tried to say it in the same tone, concealing the lie.

“Mmm.” The man lowered his gaze to the file and for a few minutes, which Diana spent being tortured by anxiety, he seemed to reflect. “Are you sure you don't know?”

"Pretty sure."

"How many times have you seen him in person?"

"Too many to think that my mental health remained intact." She offered an unsure, terrified smile. It wasn't the right time to joke. The man remained impassive, waiting for her to speak again. "I didn't count them," she explained. "But at least twenty. The number is so high because He stalked me."

For a second she thought she saw compassion in the face of her captor.

“Have you spoken to this man?”

"Just once."

"When?"

"Last year."

"What did you say to each other?"

“I don't remember it exactly.” It wasn't a moment she wanted to think about. “Usually, when I'm terrified I tend to act on impulse and forget everything afterwards.”

“Are you terrified now?”

What a fucking question. "Clearly."

The man looked away. “You have no reason to be, we don't want to hurt you.”

Diana wanted to scream at him to stop lying. Instead, she forced herself to remain silent.

"What did you say to each other?" he repeated.

“He said He would hurt my family if I didn't go with Him.” It's better to lie with a story close to reality than to say nothing or that you can't remember and then be forced to change your version.

“Go where?”

“I don't know, He didn't tell me.”

"And you refused?"

“If I had said yes, we wouldn't be having this wonderful conversation right now.” She moved forward, closer to him, and was tempted to smile at him irreverently. Knowing that it wouldn't bring her any good, she held back herself.

“Of course,” he replied, smiling lightly, as if they were having a normal conversation between friends. "Did he kill your father? Why did you refuse to follow him?”

Diana felt her heart sink into her chest. She closed her eyes, biting harder on the inside of her cheek until her skin peeled away. "My father's death is still a sensitive topic. I'd rather not talk about it if possible."

The man seemed to draw an answer on his own.

He returned his attention to the file, which he leafed through for minutes that Diana felt pass slowly.

"Do you know how he managed to infiltrate the UN assembly and prevent anyone from entering it?"

Diana cocked her head to the side. “How am I supposed to know?”

How does one man block access to such vast air? Diana responded with one word: magic. She promised herself to investigate and talk to the Goddess about it the next time she saw her. If she ever got to see her again.

The man met her gaze, continuing to analyze her. He didn't answer her question and moved on to the next topic. “When was the first time you saw him?”

“When He appeared on television.”

“And did you know, at that moment, that he was looking for you?”

“No,” she lied. “I only found out about it years later, when I met Him in person and He followed me for an entire week,” she said angrily. The memory of that period was still vivid and difficult to overcome.

“When exactly did this happen?” he asked, looking at the file.

Diana leaned forward a little, trying to spy what was written on those pages. She couldn't see anything. “I was eighteen.”

"Did he speak to you?"

"No. He never came close enough."

Was he trying to trip her up on her story? Since this was not the first interrogation that Diana had been subjected to, she forced herself to remain calm and calculate her words extremely carefully. She wouldn't let him trick her or take her by surprise.

The man turned the page. His expression became more serious. “What can you tell me about your middle school math teacher?”

Diana stopped breathing. She felt anger tighten her jaw. “What do you want to know about him?”

The man shrugged. “Whatever you are willing to tell me.”

“I was thirteen!” Her voice came out louder than she intended to. “He tried to…” Words refused to come out.

“He tried to rape you?” finished the man for her.

Diana lowered her chin, staring at her lap. She nodded.

“I didn't do anything wrong,” she defended herself.

She didn't have to give any justification for her actions, but it had become a habitual behavior.

“I know,” the man said, using a sympathetic tone. “You were just defending yourself.”

It was a trap. She was about to fall into his game.

Diana shook her head. “I didn't kill him,” she lied. "I don't know what happened. I remember little of that moment. My psychologist said I repressed the event."

"Of course," he concluded. “Do you remember how the room imploded?”

"No." Diana swallowed hard. "I only remember sensations. Discomfort because he was saying things I didn't like and he was touching me in a way I didn't want. Then, nothing. I woke up in the hospital."

"I understand."

They always said it.

I understand, I know how you feel. But it was never true.

Especially when those uttering those sentences were men.

It was the scientific data that showed that the majority of the male population had no idea what it felt like. She wasn't making it up.

She lifted her chin, meeting the man's dark eyes. “Do you have any other traumas you want me to relive?”

Her boldness seemed to catch him off guard. “No, of course not.”

“Can you let me go, then?”

“I don't think I can do it yet, doll.”

Her skin crawled and Diana had to stop herself from spitting on him.

She lowered her gaze, trying to control her emotions. “Can you at least untie me?” she asked, hopefully. “My wrists hurt and I have to use the bathroom.”

The man stood up from his chair and looked down at her. "I'll be gone for a few minutes," he warned her. "As soon as I get back we'll untie you and feed you."

"What is your name?" she asked, just to lengthen that conversation. Perhaps if she looked enough pitiful to him he would have been magnanimous with her and freed her.

The question caught him unprepared. “Idris.”

“Do you promise, Idris?” she asked in a pathetic voice, blinking slowly. “Do you promise you'll come back?”

Her interpretation didn't seem to have much effect. The man just nodded and left the room.

Diana found herself alone and couldn't hold back her curses.

Chapter Text

It was still afternoon when Ghost managed to sit at the table in his mother's kitchen. Audrey was making some tea, while she happily and thoughtfully hummed a recent song that Ghost didn't know.

Since she had started living alone, Audrey's mood had improved. Her face was radiant, the reflection of a person who was serene and happy with what she had. Of course, she would have preferred for her youngest son to come home more often, but the few opportunities that Simon gave her were more than enough. At least, since her grandson’s birth, every weekend she had something to do and someone to take care of. Simon's older brother's son was just three years old and was such a cute little creature, that wandered around the house, running from one place to another. Audrey showed Simon videos of his nephew while he held the vacuum cleaner hose. "He is such an active and good child! Oh, Simon, you must stay until Saturday!”

Ghost didn't know how long he would stay there, or what he would do from then on. He still wasn't sure if there would be any consequences for abandoning his job.

He looked at the clock on the wall, wondering if the others had already found the little girl. He thought it was more than likely. She couldn't have gone that far. Knowing her, she had run away just to spite them and had gone to the nearby town to squander all her money.

“Here, darling.” His mother put his cup on the table and sat down in front of him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Ghost, who had pulled his mask up to his nose, brought the black mug close to his lips. "About what?" he pretended not to know what she was referring to. He smelled the pungent scent of tea and sighed. He had missed it since he had started the job. No one had ever managed to recreate his mother's tea. She used a sachet that she bought from a friend who grew the leaves in her own garden and then added a little bit of milk and sugar, just enough to create the perfect taste.

“About the reasons that brought you home.”

Ghost put the cup down. Before leaving for Italy he had stopped by his mother to warn her that he would be away for a few months. He hadn't told her anything else about work, for safety reasons he never did.

He lowered his mask and his mother studied that movement with a guilty expression. She was still convinced that what happened had been her fault. “Can't I come home?” he asked, sarcastically.

His mother gave him an eloquent look and sipped her tea, giving him a few minutes of silence. Ghost knew she would never force him to talk, the problem was that a part of him wanted to. He wanted to get rid of the weight on his chest and only confessing to his mother would allow him to do so.

“I didn't get along well with my team,” he admitted. "That's all."

"Oh. Well, you can always find a better job. I'm sure."

Even Ghost thought it wouldn't be difficult to find it. He could even have returned to the previous one. But was that really what he wanted? Not being able to answer "yes" right away was filling him with doubts.

“The reason I didn't leave sooner was curiosity,” he continued.

His mother listened to him, a calm expression on her face and the cup held close to her lips. Since she was alone, she looked younger. She had started wearing clothes that were more fashionable and going frequently to the hairdresser and to get her manicure done.

“The girl I had to protect had a particular story,” he said, trying not to go into detail and to use words that wouldn't awaken bad memories for his mother. He didn't want her to think about the past.

"Particular?" his mother asked to show him that she was listening. She always used to do it, even when he was a child, she repeated his last words in the form of a question to encourage him to continue the story.

"There's a man who's been stalking her for nine years and..."

"Nine years?" his mother interrupted him. Her eyebrows furrowed and she put the cup down. "Poor girl. How old is she?"

“Twenty-one soon.”

"Oh, poor thing!"

Ghost remained silent.

His mother got up from the table and began wandering around the kitchen, giving herself little things to do to keep busy. “You said he's been stalking her for nine years?”

Ghost sighed. He shouldn't have told her about it. "Yes."

"Oh, poor girl, truly miserable," his mother said. She turned her back to him and started to wash the kettle used to heat the water. “She was so young.”

Ghost quickly made a calculation. “Twelve years,” he said flatly.

His mother had been a little older than her when… Ghost pressed his eyelids with his fingers, squeezing until that thought couldn't finish.

“She's so annoying… You have no idea,” he said, feeling the need to defend himself. "She always has an attitude and never listens!"

His mother turned to him and smiled sweetly. "She reminds me of someone."

Ghost glared at her. "Don't compare me to her," he warned harshly.

“As you wish, darling.”

But it was too late to stop the simile from creeping into Ghost's mind. He still remembered all the emotions he had felt growing up and the inability to manage them. What if it had been the same for Diana? What if she hadn't yet learned to express herself without hurting others? Maybe she didn't yet know what she was feeling and that made her unable to handle her emotions.

Taking advantage of the fact that his mother still had her back to him, he pulled up his balaclava and drank half the tea. The dark liquid warmed his tongue and throat. “She ran away.”

His mother reached out to take the white towel, which she always left hanging on the bar to open the oven. "Why? What did you do to her?"

“Nothing,” he replied, annoyed by the suggestion that it might be his fault that Diana had run away.

He met Audrey's blue eyes, which studied him for the truth.

Simon looked away. “One of us said some things that she didn’t like.”

“Did he do it with good intentions?” his mother questioned him.

"No."

His mother raised her eyebrows and Ghost understood what she was about to say.

"Running away is still childish," he argued. “Especially when she knows dangerous people are looking for her.”

His mother stopped in front of him. Her smile disappeared and Ghost found himself staring into her serious eyes. Again, he was able to predict what she would say.

He didn't allow her to accuse him. “It's different,” he insisted. "I didn't run away. I had the right to leave."

Didn't she have it too? An intrusive thought that Ghost decided to ignore.

His mother lowered her head to rub her hands thoroughly with the towel. “Is she safe now?”

"I'm not sure."

“Do you want to know if she is?”

Their eyes, identical, met.

Yes.

Ghost wanted to know. Being left in the dark was silently tormenting him. Diana was annoying, talkative, childish, and unreasonable. Ghost had found himself thinking badly of her every day.

Then why did you kiss her?

He also ignored that invasive voice. It didn't belong to him.

It had been a moment of weakness.

But that didn't mean Ghost wasn't worried. No one deserved to be stalked by a dangerous madman, especially not a twelve-year-old girl.

"The others will find her," he replied, trying to convince himself.

“What if they don't?”

Ghost's body shot up. His mother, instinctively, stepped back and put her hands in front of her face to protect herself.

They both became paralyzed.

“Sorry,” she said first. Audrey stepped back, keeping her gaze down and placing her hands on her chest.

Ghost felt his heart clench in pain. No matter how many years had passed, what that man had done to her was still inside her bones and muscles.

“It's not my place to help her,” he answered, cupping his right wrist with his other hand and listening to his own heartbeat.

He realized the danger of what he had said when his words had already left his lips. He looked up at his mother's face, who was staring at him disappointed and full of sadness.

They were the worst words he could have said in front of her.

How many people had thought the same thing when she needed help?

With a lump in his throat, he found himself saying, "I didn't mean..."

“I know what you meant,” his mother cut in, turning her back to him again.

Having no idea how to fix his mistake, Simon remained stunned staring at his mother's back.

They spoke again only after long minutes. "I don't know what to do," he admitted.

His mother looked at him over her shoulder. “I think you do.” She went to the window, opened it to let in some of the cool afternoon air, and looked at the still blue sky. “The question is whether you want to do it.”

Ghost rubbed the fabric of his black gloves and said nothing.

“What do you want, Simon?”

"I don't know."

The only certainty he had, although he was unable to admit it out loud, was that he wanted to be sure that Diana was safe. If he had stayed in England with his mother, he doubted the others would have notified him if they found her.

"Are you sure?" his mother asked, giving him a look that could only belong to the person who knew him from his first moment of life.

Ghost closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was only one way to make sure Diana was safe and well. Ghost knew it.

He sighed.

His mother smiled at him again, with the same kindness that she had never stopped offering him, not even on the occasions when he had been mean to her. Simon had no idea how she could do it. How could she look at him and his brother and love them even though they were the result of so much pain? He would have understood her if she had always hated him. But his mother had never done such a thing.

Ghost wished he could be half as good as her. And have the same ability to love.

Since he wasn't born from love, but hate and oppression, he had once convinced himself that he would never be capable of loving someone. He didn't know how to do it. It wasn't written in his DNA.

Ghost was born of violence and would only ever know violence.

He was not made for kindness, compassion, and delicacy. They were not weapons he could use against the world.

"So, have you decided?"

Ghost sighed. “Bloody hell.”

His mother laughed. She had gotten used to his cursing.

“I think I have something for you, then,” she said. “Wait here a minute.”

Ghost looked at her in confusion, but he obeyed. Not knowing what to do in the minutes that his mother was gone, he returned to the table and finished his tea.

His mother arrived with two phones in her hands. “Before you came,” she began. “Just five minutes earlier, I got a text.”

She handed them both to him. The first was the one Ghost had left before starting work, the other was his mother's. She showed him a message from an unknown number.

“I think it's for you,” she guessed. “I already sent it to your phone.”

“Coordinates?” Ghost murmured, speaking to himself.

“They indicate a place in Germany” she explained. Ghost couldn't judge her curiosity.

Ghost copied them and looked on the internet, tracing back to an old abandoned factory in southern Germany.

At first, he couldn't understand what it meant. Why would anyone send coordinates to his mother? It had to be a scam.

He studied the place better.

His senses were alerted. What if the others had sent him those coordinates? Maybe they had read his mother's number in the files and sent it to her, hoping to reach Ghost.

There could only be one reason they were leading him there. Diana was in danger and they needed him.

He handed the phone back to his mother and put his own in his pocket. "I have to go," he said. “I'll leave right away.”

He had never seen his mother so happy to see him leave home.

She accompanied him to the door. “Do you need a ride to the airport?”

"No."

He looked at her one last time, making sure to take in every detail of her in case that was the last time.

A faint voice in his mind even told him to confess how much he loved her, but Ghost was unable to. His mother must have already known without Simon telling her openly.

“Be careful,” she told him, taking his arm and squeezing it.

Ghost nodded. He allowed himself to touch her hand. "You too."

“I'm not the one who puts his life in danger as an everyday job,” she joked.

Ghost laughed. “Be careful anyway.”

"All right."

Ghost took a step back, letting her know that he had to go. His mother allowed him to get to the road.

"Remember that you can come back home whenever you want!" she shouted, waving at him. "We'll wait for you here."

Confident that she was safe, Ghost walked away from the house. His chest was filled with a pleasant sensation that gave him new determination. Talking to his mother had helped him. He shouldn't have been surprised.

He crossed the busy street, running to the nearest bus stop.

He had to hurry. His team needed him and his girl was in danger.

Chapter Text

It was a mission like any other. A hostage had to be freed and had to cause as few victims as possible. It would have been perfect if they could have gotten in and taken her without killing anyone, but Pedro didn't think that was possible.

They arrived near the abandoned factory just before dawn. They stopped at a safe point to examine the place they were to infiltrate. In front of them, they were hiding among the trees that surrounded the perimeter, there was an abandoned factory of considerable size. Diana could have been anywhere within the walls and they weren't even sure she was still there.

Just thinking about what was happening to the kid made him tremble with fear. He tightened his grip on the gun in his hand. She was fine (he kept saying it since she had disappeared). They would find her. She would have come out unharmed and they would have found no problems.

The reality, however, seemed very different.

Pedro heard the sound of a car approaching from the two-lane road that led to the factory. He crouched among the bushes and only looked out to examine the enemy. A van, with tinted windows, stopped in front of the factory gate. No one got out, but the gate opened with a metallic noise. Pedro guessed that there was a remote control to open it or that their enemies were communicating through a radio transmitter.

He waited a little longer, then moved further forward, trying to get a better look at the men who were getting out of the van. He counted at least five of them. How many were already inside the building? And what were they doing to Diana?

He forced himself to stay focused. With no more information to gather, he reached the place he had agreed with the others. He waited for a few minutes for his teammates to join him and then confronted them. Everyone had checked one side of the factory.

“There's only one gate,” Yoo said. “But I saw a back entrance.”

"If they're smart, they'll definitely have it locked," Spider assumed.

"It's no problem," Siva reminded him.

“Oh, right,” Spider said, scoffing. “We have a fucking vampire among us.”

Siva gave him a murderous look, which was ignored. “You could wait here and let me go in alone.”

“You would die,” Yoo stated.

“No, I wouldn't.”

"There's no discussing it," Pedro concluded, shaking his head. “Even if you know…” What? How to use magic? Pedro didn't finish the sentence. “We must move together.”

“If we split up, we'll find Diana faster,” Spider said.

"True, but I saw five men go inside. We don't know how many there are or where she is. Together, we are stronger and can protect each other."

Siva made a strangled noise. Pedro looked at him and found that his eyes had rolled back in his head and that the veins in his sclera had become visible, filling the whites with red. He got scared, thinking something had happened to him. He reached out to shake him. Before he could touch him, Siva shook his head and returned to normal.

"Found her: top floor, towards the left side of the building."

Pedro stared at him, unable to process what had just happened. How could he accept that magic was real? Worrying about Diana was taking away his time to even think about it.

“Okay,” he said. "We can try to go in from the back and go up to the top floor. If you have any objections or anything else to say, speak now.”

He met the gazes of his teammates, who returned them without saying anything. Pedro nodded, reassured by the fact that for once they were all in agreement. Before moving, he checked again that he had everything he needed.

They followed Yoo to where he had seen the back door. The factory fence, fortunately for them, did not have barbed wire. They helped each other hoist themselves over the metal bars and fell inside. Walking low and fast, they reached the door.

Pressing himself against the wall, Pedro whispered, “Siva, can you sense someone behind the door?”

Siva closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes, two men. Close by, they're looking at the door."

“Fuck!” Spider cursed.

“I have an idea,” Yoo announced. "We turn the corner and hide there. One of us knocks on the door and then runs away to hide. They will probably come out to check. We'll take them out and then we'll go in."

"The noise will attract the others," Pedro noted.

“I think it's inevitable.”

“Yes, but it's better to do it as late as possible.”

"One of us could hide behind the door and attack them," Spider suggested.

"It's dangerous."

“We just have to use our guns,” Yoo insisted.

Pedro, unable to find a better idea, had to give in: "Let's move."

Siva offered himself as the knocker. Pressed against the factory wall, Pedro closed his eyes and waited. His heart was loud, but Pedro had learned to control it, especially in moments like this.

“This reminds me of that time in Mexico City, huh?” Spider joked.

Pedro smiled. "If you say so."

"There was a hostage involved there too," he reminded him.

Pedro raised his eyebrows. “Yes, but at the time we didn't care who we were rescuing.”

It wasn't just any mission. He could continue to convince himself of it, but the truth was different.

Pedro had made the mistake of caring about the annoying girl he was supposed to protect. And in jobs like that, certain emotions only complicated the situation.

Spider said nothing.

They heard Siva knocking. Pedro's body immediately tensed. Siva ran towards them, hiding behind the wall.

"They're coming," he warned them.

"Give us the signal," Pedro ordered.

Siva nodded. He moved his head so he was peering over the wall. He raised his gun and said, "Now."

They all went out together. A few shots were enough (they knew that bullets were essential). The two men fell to the ground without having had time to hit any of them.

Guilt stung Pedro's chest for just a second, before giving way to a cold indifference that he had learned to tame years ago.

They advanced quickly. Spider and Yoo grabbed the corpses to carry them inside the building and hide them as best they could. They closed the door behind them and went up the stairs. Siva guided them, ordering them when to stop and when to move.

Crouching behind the walls, they passed through long corridors abandoned to decay. The factory must have been closed for at least ten years and had been attacked by vandals for a long time until that group of men (who were they?) had taken it over. Pedro eyed the interior of empty rooms deprived of all furniture, with walls smeared with writings and drawings.

In the complete silence of the factory, they could only hear the sound of their own footsteps, that of their distant enemies, and their chatter.

Why take her there? Pedro only found answers he didn't like. Images of Diana being tortured flooded his mind and he instinctively stopped. Spider turned to him, asking with his eyes if he was okay. Pedro nodded, swallowing away the worry, and they continued.

He couldn't waste time thinking and creating such scenarios. If he wanted to help her, he could only hurry.

Siva stopped before turning and alerted them to the presence of five men. Two further away and three closer. Whiskey created a strategy. They would have used a stone, which they promptly picked up before entering, to distract their enemies and lure them closer. As soon as they could see them, they would shoot. The shots would have attracted the others and then they would have killed them too.

Siva, being the most exposed, offered to throw the stone into the left side of the corridor, where their enemies were.

Knowing about his teammate's panic attacks, Pedro was amazed at Siva's calm. He watched him press the back of his head against the wall and breathe deeply. Then, determined, he turned and took action.

The bouncing of the stone filled the entire floor. A noise that normally would not have attracted any attention, at that moment seemed like a thunderclap.

The voices of their enemies grew louder. Pedro closed his eyes to better concentrate on the sound of their footsteps. He gripped the gun tighter, feeling its weight not only in his hands but also in his chest.

Even though he had been doing that job for decades, killing always meant losing a part of himself. Every victim who fell under his violence took away a part of Pedro's humanity. One day, there would be no humanity left in him and his soul would be damned forever.

Naively, Pedro still hoped to be able to stop before that moment arrived. After that job, as soon as he got his money, he would disappear forever and give himself the peace that his soul deserved. He would hide in a place that expected nothing of him.

When he reopened his eyes, he had time to meet those of his victim. Pedro was faster than him. His gun shot up and the shot reached the other before he could do anything.

Three shots filled his eardrums, making him lose track of time for a moment. He turned to look at the faces of his teammates and, with relief, he found that they were all fine.

They didn't have time to talk to each other. They stood up and leaned out of the hallway to see the other two men approaching. Siva, not caring about protecting himself, exposed his body and shot the two men, hitting them in the head.

“Are you an idiot?” Spider snapped, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him back to cover. "They could have killed you!"

Siva laughed. “I'm fine, they didn't even touch me.”

Yoo hit the back of his head. “You were lucky.”

Siva snorted like a child and Pedro was tempted to shake him until he could put some sense into his head.

“Are you hurt?”

"No," Siva said, using an annoyed tone. "We're losing time."

Before they could tell him anything else, Siva turned the corner and started walking down the corridor, trying to reach the next stairs, which were on the other side of the floor. He stopped in the middle of the corridor, raising a hand to warn them not to continue.

“Seven of them are coming.”

"Seven?" Yoo asked. “How many fucking men are here?”

"About thirty," Siva replied.

“Fuck, okay.” Pedro looked around trying to figure out where to hide and how to act. “Where are they coming from?”

Siva pointed to the end of the corridor they had set as their destination.

“Shall we hide?” Spider pointed to one of the nearest doors.

Another risk. Inevitable to take some in a similar mission.

They entered an empty room, with wooden furniture that was destroyed and left on the floor. Whoever had entered there before them must have enjoyed smashing everything and writing vulgar phrases on the walls. The glass in the windows had exploded and mostly fallen outside.

“Shall we wait here for them to reach and kill us?” Yoo asked.

His sarcasm annoyed Pedro, who approached the door to listen to the noises outside. “If you have a better idea, we're listening.”

As he had expected, Yoo said nothing.

With nothing else they could do, they hid against the wall, occupying the side towards which the door opened. Those few seconds could have allowed them to catch their opponents off guard.

Pedro tried to stay calm and not listen to the anxiety that was gathering inside him. His insides tightened and turned.

That could have been his last day alive.

He found himself thinking about all the people he loved, those who had left him years ago and those who were still alive. At least, if he was going to die, he could have joined his parents and grandparents. Even though they had been gone for years, Pedro still missed them. He had learned to live with their absence, but every time he thought of them he couldn't stop the sadness and nostalgia from hitting him in the chest like the bastards they were.

The footsteps in the corridor became louder. Pedro closed his eyelids and filled his lungs with air.

The door was slowly opened and cautious footsteps alerted them to the arrival of two people. Siva was the quickest. With reflexes that left Pedro speechless, he exposed himself and struck their opponents. To stop him from going into the hallway alone, Spider and Yoo followed him. Pedro found himself running after his teammates, curses leaving his lips one after the other.

He dove into the fray, becoming engulfed in the chaos of the hallway. Being too close to their enemies, it had gone from a shootout to a one-on-one fight.

Pedro was attacked by a larger, more muscular man. The assault knocked the air out of his lungs. Pedro lost a few seconds of distraction and quickly took the knife he had put in his trousers. He tried to hit the man, but he managed to stop the blow and block his arm.

Shifting his strength, Pedro hit him between the legs. In the second of pain felt by his opponent, Pedro freed himself from his grip, reached for the gun, and pointed it right in his face. He shot before he could even think.

Being free, he looked back at his teammates. Siva was choking a man. He had lifted him from the ground, holding him only by the neck, and from his expression he seemed enthusiastic about the pain inflicted. The man continued to kick, unable to free himself. When he got tired of him, Siva broke his neck.

Pedro shuddered as he heard his bones breaking.

The corpse fell to the ground with a thud.

Pedro met Siva's eyes across the corridor. His irises seemed red. Siva licked his upward-curving lips. He turned to look at Spider and Yoo who were fighting a brute together. Pedro followed his gaze. If the two had not been so close to their opponent, he would have shot the man. Instead, he remained still, allowing himself to catch his breath, while his teammates hit the man in the face and strangled him. When his corpse hit the floor it made an even louder sound than the previous one.

“Any injuries?” Pedro asked, reaching his teammates.

“A few cracks and bumps,” Spider replied, panting.

Yoo touched his bloody nose. "We're alright."

Pedro shifted his gaze to Siva, who had lifted his shirt to look at a gunhole in his side. They all cursed. “It's best if you go back to the car,” he said, moving closer to him to see the state of the wound.

Siva's laughter annoyed him. "Don't worry." His tone was calm, even amused. It certainly didn't look like it belonged to someone who had a bullet in his stomach.

“Can you move?” Yoo wanted to know. He examined Siva from head to toe with a troubled expression. “You don't have to force yourself.”

“If he can fight, let him,” Spider interjected, looking at how many bullets remained in his gun. "We can't stay out in the open for too long, we have to move."

"I'm fine," Siva said. "Let's go."

Still hesitant, Pedro followed. They ran towards the stairs and went up another floor. Before moving much, Siva leaned against the wall and checked his wound again. Pedro noticed that he was not losing blood. The hole was dirty and battered, but the skin around it was dark as usual, no marks visible. Frowning, Siva pressed at the sides of the wound.

"What are you doing?" Pedro asked immediately. "If you..."

Siva interrupted him. “Shut up and admire.”

By pressing harder, it looked like he was trying to dislodge the bullet, which couldn't have gone too deep. When Siva realized that it would not come out that way, he put two fingers into the wound and took it out himself.

Yoo put a hand to his mouth, holding back a gag. Pedro felt unable to look away.

“Are you stupid?” Spider snapped, hitting Siva's arm, who with a look ordered him to stop.

When he managed to extract the bullet he showed it to all of them, smiling like a madman.

“Great,” Spider said. “Now you will bleed to death!”

“I will not die for so little,” laughed Siva. Their fear seemed to make him happy.

Pedro stared at his blood-filled fingers. He could no longer stop himself from thinking about Siva and magic. “Are you even human?”

Siva threw his head forward and burst out laughing. It was the only answer Pedro received.

Suddenly, Siva's face became serious again. He looked up and turned, as if he had picked up something. “Someone is getting closer.” He narrowed his eyes and assumed a thoughtful expression. "Five men. Four from one direction, only one from the other.”

“Let's deal with the closest ones first,” Yoo said. He clutched his nose, trying to slow the blood loss, which Pedro thought would soon stop.

As they had done before, they found a spot to hide and waited for their opponents to approach. They attacked as soon as they saw them.

This time the enemy fire was more fearsome. They had to hide and Pedro noticed that Siva's movements had slowed down. Maybe he wouldn't have died from the bullet, but he certainly wouldn't have recovered immediately. He ordered them to stay down and exposed himself to hit their opponents, who had sought shelter behind the wall.

He grabbed the gun. His enemy exposed himself. Pedro met his dark eyes. For a second, he thought he saw someone else in his place, a soldier who had died years before.

His hesitation could have been fatal.

The man was about to pull the trigger and kill him.

He failed to do so only because a shot from Pedro's right reached him first.

Pedro held his breath.

Their opponents cursed in English and their attention turned to whoever was on the right. Taking advantage of that allied fire, Yoo and Spider advanced, killing the remaining men.

Siva, standing up, hit Pedro on the shoulder. That involuntary blow awoke Pedro from the trance of hesitation into which he had fallen.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He could have died if it wasn’t for...

He ran towards the others, eager to find out what had happened. He stopped as soon as he turned the corner, almost colliding with Spider's motionless body.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Spider blurted out.

Pedro smiled. "You're back."

Ghost reloaded his gun. “You're welcome,” he told them arrogantly.

Siva, pressing a hand on his stomach, reached him exultantly. “I knew you'd come back!” He tried to hug his teammate, but Ghost stepped back, giving Siva an icy look that stopped him.

“What made you change your mind?” From Yoo's question, Pedro realized that he wasn't the only one who thought they would never see Ghost again.

“Does it matter?” Ghost turned his back to them.

“No,” Spider said, catching up and surpassing him. Pedro noticed the angry glare he gave him. Ghost's betrayal, while temporary, would not be quickly forgotten.

“Siva.” Pedro advanced along with the others. "Where's Diana? Is she still there?"

“Yes,” he replied, pausing. “All the men left in the building are with her.”

“They're waiting for us,” Spider said.

Pedro sighed. "Then we should go and say hello."

Chapter Text

She allowed herself to despair.

She wanted to scream, but she doubted that was a good idea. Her gaze wandered from one point of the room to another, looking for something that might be useful. To her left was a simple table, currently empty, with a chair, in addition to the one the man had left in front of her. Could she have broken one of the chairs and taken off a piece to use to untie herself? Maybe, but the noise could have attracted her kidnappers. How many were there?

Tears stung her eyes. She felt like a fool for running away from the five assholes. Yes, they weren't the best of company, but at least they hadn't been sent to harm her. Because, no matter how much Idris promised that he had no intention of doing anything to her, Diana knew that was a lie. If they had discovered her powers, they would have tried to appropriate them just like He wanted to do.

They would never let her go.

She had to come up with a believable story. She couldn't think of leaving there without giving them some information that might be of interest.

Perhaps the best plan she could have made was to distract them. Waiting for the right moment to free yourself and then running away.

She couldn't use her power, no matter how much she wanted to. If she did, it would reveal everything to them.

She had to leave him as a last resort.

That "few minutes" became half an hour. Diana, who had to go to the bathroom, thought about doing it there.

When Idris re-entered the room, he was not alone.

Diana stiffened when she saw the man who had called her a whore. In his hand, he had the same file as Idris. He came towards her with a determined step and a bored expression on his face. He grabbed the back of the chair and turned it to sit in front of her.

"Let's hurry, hum?" he told her sharply.

Diana nodded.

The man asked her the same questions as the other, repeating them with an attitude that got on her nerves. Every response from her was followed by a "Are you sure?" from him, which was bringing Diana to the verge of exploding.

Diana responded in the same way, reformulating the sentences so as not to make them believe that she had prepared a speech beforehand. Her father had trained her well.

“What do you know about the Daughters of Blood?”

Diana's eyes widened, surprised by the question. “Not much,” she forced herself to say. "They belong to a sect that believes in the existence of a Goddess called Pain or Blood."

The Englishman moved his head, confirming what she had said. “Have you ever come into contact with one of them?”

Did they know about the lieutenant?

Diana didn't know whether to lie or not.

Yes, suggested the voice of the Goddess.

Diana swallowed hard. Her throat was now dry from too many hours she had gone without drinking. "Yes."

Why was the Goddess finally talking?

"Who?"

"Lieutenant Cristina Caruso."

"How did you meet her?"

Diana waited for the Goddess to give her further directions. She received only silence. “Almost a year ago, she offered to help me escape from Him.”

“How would she have helped you?”

"She said that she could protect me and keep me away from Him."

"Is it because of the lieutenant's proposal that you argued with your mother and ran away from home?" Idris interjected.

"Yes." She looked up at him. His expression was still calm, but Diana recognized that his body was stiff and his gaze often darted to the man sitting next to him. "But I didn't get along with the men who were assigned to me as an escort and so I also ran away from them."

If the Goddess was allowing her to talk nonsense perhaps Diana wasn't in danger. Or maybe it was all evidence that she was failing?

She sobbed, fed up with the situation.

“Please,” she said, whimpering. “I just want to go home.”

Can I scream and kill them?, she asked the Goddess, hoping to receive a timely response. She just wanted to get out of there and only later think about the consequences of her choices.

Not yet.

So, in the future, which Diana hoped wasn't too distant, she had to do it. And if the Goddess was giving her permission to kill them, then they had to be her enemies.

The man sitting in front of her let out a laugh. His face seemed to come alive with perversion. Diana felt whatever strength she had left slipping out of her body. If she were left alone with that man, she was sure that he would torture her.

He stood up, dragging the feet of his chair across the floor. “I don't know who gave you the impression that this is a bargain, you stupid whore.”

As soon as she was free, she would remove his tongue from his mouth and carve the word whore on his forehead. She imagined the scene, enjoying the pain she would cause him. Only when he was breathing heavily would she hang him in a public building, someplace where everyone could admire her creation.

The man brought the chair back to the table and crossed the room in a few strides, reaching one of the windows. He looked out at the treetops below them.

Diana searched for Idris's eyes, which she found pointed at the ground as if she were ashamed of her lies.

The Englishman pulled out a long, sharp knife from the military belt he had tied around his waist. Diana shivered.

It took her breath away.

The man held the knife out into the sunlight. “Do you know what a Blessing is?”

She didn't answer.

"When a God chooses one of us and grants him a portion of their immense power or a little luck."

Diana clenched her teeth so hard that she hoped she would break her jaw and die, choking on her own blood.

“Have you been blessed, Diana?” Idris asked, finding the courage to meet her terrified gaze.

“No,” she said, her voice shaking. She licked her dry lips and looked at the Englishman. “If I had been, I would have killed you all by now.”

The Englishman laughed again. “Funny,” he teased. “Hilarious even.”

Diana would have liked to point out that using two synonyms was not going to change the meaning of the sentence. He was just arrogantly repeating the same thing.

She clenched her fists and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

Now?

No.

Did the Goddess want her dead?

Everything will work out, Diana.

She didn't believe her.

Diana looked back at the man. He was walking back towards her, the knife held firmly in his hand. From his murderous look his intentions were clear.

Diana dared to cast one last desperate glance in Idris's direction, hoping that he would be moved by a little pity and help her. The man remained impassive.

The Englishman crouched in front of her again. Even though she was now looking down on him, the difference in power between them had not changed. He was still the one in control of the situation.

Diana leaned back, pressing against the back of her seat, and she tried to force the bonds around her wrists. Her skin was irritated by the harsh rope, but she persisted. Maybe if she pulled with just enough force she would be able to break them. Then, she would have tried to hit him in the face.

The Englishman showed her the knife more closely. The blade glinted under the room's artificial light. “So if I open your leg you'll die like anyone else?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

Tears stung her eyes and her cheeks.

“Let's see if you're lying.”

"No!"

The blade of the knife penetrated her thigh, narrowly avoiding her bone.

Diana bit her lip, forcing herself not to scream. Pain spread throughout her body, making her tremble.

The Englishman pressed down hard, making sure the blade sank deeper into her flesh. Diana narrowed her eyes, struggling to keep control.

She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her flesh and tightened the muscles in her thighs, making the pain she was feeling worse. Her body tried to wiggle to escape the danger, but her movements were restricted and the pain threatened to make her pass out.

Raising a hand to his teammate, the Englishman demanded a second knife. Idris handed it to him without objection.

Diana offered herself in the darkness of her closed eyelids. Preparing for the second lunge was impossible.

She felt the blade tear into her flesh, dividing it into two equal parts. Again, the bone was narrowly avoided and she thought it was done for purpose.

Her head fell forward and she sobbed through pursed lips.

Her power was gathering in her throat, rasping it with her convulsive thrashing. She felt all the energy in her body gather there, starting from her fingers and toes, ending in her neck. Held there, she continued to move from one place to another.

She almost felt as if she had swallowed corrosive acid.

Why had the Goddess abandoned her?

You are strong, Diana.

Those words seemed to mock her.

She didn't want to be strong. She wanted to be normal. Living a life where torture was just a distant thought.

She wanted to go back to university and have the upcoming exams as her only worry. In the afternoons she would meet up with her friends and they would complain instead of studying.

She wanted to go home and be welcomed by her family, who would ask her how her day went. She would reply with the usual "normal" and she would go to her room where she would lock herself away until dinner.

At night she would sleep without nightmares. Because everything was fine.

She hadn't killed anyone. Nobody was looking for her.

“Show us what you can do and we'll take care of you,” Idris said, taking a few steps closer to her.

Diana's eyelids fluttered before opening. Her vision was dim and clouded with pain. She felt her gag rising in her throat and threatening to force her mouth open. She concentrated with all her strength on preventing it, pushing the scream back.

“Do you want me to remove the knives, then?” the Englishman asked her, hitting the hilt of one of the two knives with his fingers. Diana squeezed her eyes shut, groaning at her pain. "You'll bleed to death."

Diana shook her head.

The man grabbed the knife on her left thigh and Diana sobbed more loudly. “I'll count until ten. If you don't give us anything, I'll take out the knife.”

Diana looked desperately at his hand, wishing she could set it on fire.

What had she done wrong to end up there?

"One."

She bit her lip until it bled and looked up at the sky. It was a clear, serene blue.

"Two."

She didn't want to die. But if she had revealed her power there was a life of experiments and torture waiting for her. She wasn't even sure that she would be able to free herself from the bonds. She could have screamed, knocked them to the ground, only for it all to be useless.

They were going to win anyway.

All just because she had been a coward. That was why she had run away, wasn't it? Because those assholes had gotten too close to a truth that she still found painful.

"Three."

Fuck the Goddess! Fuck men!

She would scream, she would break free, and then she would slaughter them all. No mercy.

She would seek out every single person who knew about her power and kill them. It didn't matter that she would have to leave for another intercontinental mission. Her safety took precedence and she wouldn't stop until she felt free.

"Four."

Do you really think I would let you die?

Maybe not dying, but you would let me be tortured.

The Goddess didn't respond. What had she expected from a creature called the Goddess of Pain?

"Five."

The Englishman raised the knife slightly and Diana felt the blood disperse. She looked at his red colored blade.

If you don't want me to die you have to do something, you crazy bitch.

How impatient... The Goddess' tone seemed amused and Diana thought she would go mad.

"Six."

Diana thought back to her family and all the people she loved.

She hadn't had time to organize as she would have liked. She thought back to the last words she had spoken to her brother months ago. How she had wished him to die on the battlefield.

God, she hoped he was safe and healthy.

She thought back to the abrupt way in which she had told her sister to mind her business. Now, she should have hugged her and told her that she loved her.

Without them, sometimes it was difficult to breathe.

She thought back to her mother, left alone. Diana had taken everything from her. The man she loved, her children, her house, her job. She had stripped her of everything, leaving her with a broken heart and a fragile mind.

What a cruel daughter.

If only she hadn't been born, everything would have been easier for them.

"Sev-"

Someone knocked on the door.

The Englishman stopped. His gaze searched for Idris, who motioned for him to wait. The larger, darker man reached the door, opening it slightly.

“We have a problem,” said a third man, whom Diana could not see, with the door and Idris as obstacles.

"What is it?"

“Four men have infiltrated the perimeter.”

Diana's eyes widened, unable to tell if he had actually said that or if she had started to delirious.

The Englishman stood up. “Fuck, how did they find us?”

The cry she had been holding in her throat slipped downward.

Had they come for her?

Yes.

Warm, soft hope filled her chest.

They hadn't abandoned her.

No longer having to hold back, she opened her bloody lips. She stretched them out into a painful smile, which drew more blood from the wounds she had self-inflicted with her teeth.

Hold on a little longer, the Goddess told her.

A reassuring warmth spread through the rest of her body, enveloping her in a pleasant embrace.

She felt like laughing.

The two men looked at her.

“You're dead, you fucking pieces of shit.”

She didn't try to dodge his fist as it hit her in the face.

Chapter Text

“No,” Oscar said as soon as Whiskey finished proposing his plan. “We won't do it.”

Guilt had been eating Oscar ever since they found out Diana had been taken. It was an ending he hadn't expected. Up until that moment, everything seemed fine: a little girl who had run away and needed to be traced and recaptured, nothing strange.

It had all degenerated in an instant.

And now, he was staring at Whiskey, Pedro, with open, fearful eyes. “You can't do that,” he insisted.

Pedro crouched between him and Yoo and leaned forward. "It's the only path we can take, Oscar. We can't leave Diana here. I knock, I go in and you shoot."

“They'll kill you right away,” Yoo said, looking at him gravely.

"I'm aware of that." Pedro rubbed his moustache. "But I have to do it. As captain..."

“I don't give a shit if you're the captain!” Oscar blurted out, immediately getting scolded for speaking out loud. “You can't sacrifice yourself.”

“I can,” Pedro corrected him with determination. "Think about it: I am the oldest and I have no children. No one depends on me."

"So?" Oscar objected. “Not having kids doesn't make you less important than me or Yoo!”

“You're not that old,” Ghost murmured. His head was down, his gaze fixed on the dirty, ruined floor beneath their feet. “You still have many years ahead of you.”

Pedro cursed under his breath and pressed his closed eyelids. “I won't let one of you go.”

“And I won't let you go.”

“Oscar… please…” he said his name with what seemed like desperation.

Was there really no other way? Was one of them really forced to die?

Oscar put a hand to his chest. His heart had tightened, contracted on itself, and he felt like he was having a heart attack.

Even though Pedro was not his friend, at the mere thought of seeing him die and knowing that it was all his fault, Oscar felt like he was about to explode. He would make a scene, yelling, crying, and stomping his feet.

“Let me go and we have solved the problem,” said Siva, repeating it for the second time.

Pedro placed a hand on his chest, preventing him from getting up and pressing him against the wall. "We need you for Diana," he explained. "We don't know what state she is in and you'll have to use your magic to help her."

Siva stared at him without saying anything, then nodded weakly, surrendering to his captain's will.

Pedro stood up, put the gun back in his belt, and looked at the door. Oscar immediately stood up to follow and stop him, but Ghost grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

Oscar glared at him, ready to insult and kill him if necessary.

“Don't make it harder,” Ghost warned, tightening his grip on his shoulder.

Yoo walked over to Oscar to speak in his ear. “If you don't want him to die, do your fucking job.”

Yoo was right. Oscar tightened his grip on the gun. If they wanted to get out of there alive, they had to do their best.

Oscar took a step forward, aware that he had no certainty that they would make it out of that factory alive. It was a waste of time worrying about Pedro when all of them could have easily died.

A possibility that they had accepted the moment they had entered the factory, and even before that when they had signed the contract.

Oscar stared at Pedro's back, praying to God to save them all.

Chapter Text

After an initial moment of joy, all Diana felt was disbelief.

It was not possible. It had to be a mistake. It wasn't them. It couldn't be them.

What was coming to her rescue was another team, made of people she didn't know. People she had no connection with.

Her assholes had left, giving up the money. They had understood that she wasn't worth it. She had pissed them off, that was certain, managing as always to antagonize the people forced to be with her. It had happened every time. Elementary school, scout group, middle school, and high school. University had been a pleasant exception, but Diana had attended for a few months and then stopped showing up. After her father's death, she didn't have the capacity.

No matter how much Diana tried to please others, her true personality always took over and she couldn't do anything about it. How can someone control their true nature? Diana was destructive, deprived of the ability to treat others as they deserved.

She shook her head, forcing herself out of that vicious circle. It wasn't her fault that her relationship with those men had fallen apart. They were assholes, arrogant, convinced they were always right and knew everything. Asking her to surrender to their will and power would have gone against her morals.

So no. They weren't coming.

The men in the room were agitated. Idris was giving them directions, while the Englishman was shaking his legs. His face was excited, adrenaline keeping him from standing still.

Diana looked down at the blades still embedded in her thighs. They were a problem she needed to take care of. How could she remove them without dying?

The answer was granted by the voice in her head. My Blessing grants you the ability to heal faster. You won't die.

Diana wasn't sure if she could trust her. Yet, if she thought about it, a human being would at least faint after receiving those wounds. Instead, Diana, although she didn't feel well, wasn't even sick. Perhaps because the blades, being immobile, were preventing the blood from spreading. She wondered if she would be able to get up and run out of there with the knives still stuck in her flesh.

Since she had no alternative, she found herself forced to trust the goddess, to cling to the hope that she would make it out of that room alive. The alternative was too scary to even think about.

She wriggled her hands, which had been tied behind her back. The rope was tight and wrapped around the wooden rods of the chair. Her feet were also tied to it. What was she supposed to do? Fall to the floor and hope to break the chair?

She waited in silence, thinking that the answer would come directly from the Goddess. All she heard was her internal monologue.

She pushed her hands back, testing the resistance of the ropes. As she had expected, the only thing she felt was pain. She stopped moving, trying to push away what she was feeling and control her heartbeat.

Do I have any other useful powers? She asked. She took the silence as a "no."

She couldn't do anything. She could have sat there, injured and motionless, waiting for someone to come and save her.

Pride commanded her to work. Even at the cost of cutting off her hands, she would free herself.

She had to be careful, however. The attention of the men was not on her at that moment, but it could quickly return. It didn't take much, the slightest mistake and the situation would have gotten worse.

She wiggled her hands again, trying to find a way to loosen the ropes' grip. Every movement she made, even the smallest, scraped her skin. The pain, while strong and frightening, was still nothing compared to the sensation she felt when the knives had entered her thighs. She stared at one of the hilts, wondering if she would be able to take it with her mouth and use it to get rid of the ropes. She concluded that she would attract too much attention.

She had to move in a time and space where no one was watching.

She placed her thumb inside her palm. Her hypermobility allowed her to bring it back completely. Slowly, holding on to the rope wrapped around her right hand using the fingers of her left, she tried to get out. The rope tormented her flesh. Diana closed her eyes, preventing the tears from escaping. Her crying would only blind her and turn off her mind. Both endings she couldn't afford.

A cry, again, gathered in her throat.

Not yet.

She wanted to rail against the Goddess. Scream at her that it was all her fault. Every evil in Diana's life could be traced back to her.

Please, I'm not the patriarchy.

Was that a joke? Diana sobbed. That fucking Goddess, who was abusively occupying her mind, wanted to joke instead of helping her when she needed it the most. Funny, cruel, ironic, evil.

The next time she saw her, Diana would use the Blessing against her. Then, they would see which of the two would laugh.

Her hand slipped from the rope, taking flesh, skin, and blood with it. Diana bit back another sob, sure that every little noise was dangerous. She was almost there, she was about to break free, and she couldn't get caught.

She allowed herself a moment to breathe. She pushed her thumb out, stretching it. Her wounded flesh cried in pain and Diana was sure she was about to explode.

She took a deep breath, drawing air in through her nose and out through her mouth. She repeated it until the pain seemed less intense.

In the distance, she heard some shots. Diana pricked up her ears, terror once again taking hold of her. She told herself that she shouldn't worry. They weren't there. The group that was going to save her was different, full of strangers that she didn't have to worry about. Even if they were dead, she would free herself.

The men present lined up in front of her. Idris took a step back and gave her an impassive look. The blank expression of a soldier. Diana stiffened, bringing her free hand into the same position it had been tied in.

Having his watchful eyes on her was a problem. She couldn't have reached down to free her feet.

More shots brought Idris's attention back to the closed door.

Diana took the opportunity to lighten the rope's grip on her other wrist, which she was able to free with less pain. She barely refrained from sighing and smiling.

She looked down at her thighs. To free her feet she would need one of the knives. And anyway, it would have been difficult to walk with blades stuck in her legs.

She analyzed the position of the knives. Neither seemed to have hit her bones, which was a good thing. She wasn't sure if they had touched the artery. But if they had it, in theory, she should have already been dead. She couldn't tell if she was alive only because of the Blessing or because the blades hadn't yet been removed.

The knife on her right leg was in a less central position than the other.

Focusing her gaze on the men's backs, Diana took the hilt.

She closed her eyes for just a second and held her breath, sealing her lips to prevent any sound from escaping.

Removing the knife was as painful as she had anticipated. Her eyes watered and she allowed it, preferring tears than to screams, which would attract the men's attention.

She removed the blade slowly, dragging bits of muscle and still-living blood with her. The sight of the hole in her flesh made her want to vomit. Her body moved forward, folding in on itself. Diana immediately tried to get herself back into a straight position.

Holding the knife in her hand, she stared in dismay as her blood stained the blade. She bent sideways to cut the rope binding her right foot. A sudden dizziness threatened to make her lose her balance and fall to the ground. Diana had to stop and collect herself, but every second she spent still allowed her to feel what her body was undergoing.

Blood was spreading, leaking out of the wound and flooding it. Her heart was beating in her ears and her leg, going crazy to save her.

She swallowed her own vomit. Then, ignoring her dizziness, she leaned to the side.

She had to do it.

She cut the rope with some difficulty, but in the end she still was able to do it.

Everything had gone too smoothly. It couldn't be right. At any moment something horrible would happen.

With uncertainty and an increasingly unfocused gaze, she released her other leg as well. Her back relaxed against the back of the chair, giving herself a moment of peace, which lasted too short.

Someone knocked on the door. Two knockings, brought everyone to attention, even Diana.

She tightened her grip on the knife, which she had removed, and she looked at the hole in her leg. The blood had stopped flowing outward, yet she felt exhausted and weak. She recognized that the bleeding of a normal human being would not stop so quickly. She should have already been dead, but instead, she only felt a horrible burning sensation in her thigh and a more overwhelming tiredness than usual. She wondered if she should put the knife back where it belonged. She chose not to, fearing it would slow her recovery. She slowly placed it on the floor and looked at the door.

Idris had taken a few steps forward and Diana realized that she had missed a few minutes. “Come in,” his voice was rough and emotionless.

Diana's body trembled, shot through with anxiety and fear, which seemed to revive her, loosening the grip of tiredness.

The men in front of her had positioned themselves so as not to block her view of the door, and when she saw him enter, Diana stopped breathing.

Whiskey met her eyes, immediately drawn to her.

The men pointed their guns at him.

"I don't have any weapons on me," he announced, showing them his empty palms.

What the fuck. No! Idiot. Are you dumb?

Diana's mind exploded with fear, giving her a rush of energy she had no idea where it came from. What the fuck was he doing? She found no meaning in his presence.

She realized his intentions slowly.

Whiskey had come to die.

Diana felt her heart sink into her chest.

Another man fallen victim to her curse. How many others would she have seen die?

"Where are your teammates?" Idris asked. He took another step forward and Whiskey turned his hateful gaze to him.

Diana watched him carefully, wondering if he was okay. He didn't seem to see any injuries, giving her hope that the others were still alive.

Whiskey, stupid as he was (why hadn't he run away?) started to answer the question. Diana, who hated stupid people, felt a blinding rage pass through her. She ignored the pain and logic. She grabbed the other knife and pulled it out in one fell swoop, no whining or second thoughts.

She threw the knife to the ground, using the noise to attract the attention of the men, who turned their guns on her. She was surprised that she hadn't been shot immediately.

Whiskey's gaze returned to her. Diana, taking advantage of the anger that was energizing her, rubbed her sore wrists and slowly got to her feet. Her legs trembled and blood poured out of her wounds. But Diana remained standing. “What a fucking plan…” she said through gritted teeth.

She took a step forward, stopping once she realized she was taking it too far. She staggered and found her balance with difficulty.

"Don't move!" Idris ordered.

Diana directed all her hatred at him. “Oh, go fuck yourself!” She no longer cared about the consequences. They no longer existed.

All she cared about was keeping that idiot, Whiskey, from getting killed.

She leaned forward, picking up the knife that lay at her feet. The fact that her captors hadn't shot her yet made her feel more confident about what she was doing. They could torture her, but not kill her. Perhaps it was a risky thought, which Diana clung to violently.

"Put it down," said the Englishman.

She was tempted to insult his entire family tree. Thinking he was a waste of time, she ignored him and held the knife to her neck.

"Diana." Whiskey's voice was a terrified plea. Diana met his dark, alarmed eyes. “Put down the knife.”

He held out his hands towards her. A movement that brought three guns on him.

“Leave,” she ordered.

Idris pointed the gun at Whiskey's head. “Put the knife down or we'll shoot him!”

Diana looked away from Whiskey. She moved her gaze to the other men, trying to analyze the dangerous and delicate situation in which she had found herself. She had to think and chose the best way to save them all, or they would both die. Her only hope was to get Whiskey out of there alive.

Pain shot through her body in a draining rush. Diana felt dizzy and was sure she was about to faint. But she had to resist. “He dies, I die.”

Deep down, she already felt like she was about to die.

“No,” said Whiskey. "You will not."

The look Diana gave him was full of disgust. Who did he think he was to give her orders? Clearly, he wasn't capable of making plans, why would she listen to him? If she had, they would be already dead. "Shut up," she snapped, realizing that her voice was weak. She pressed the knife harder, inflicting a cut on her throat. She looked at Idris. “If I die, you will never know about the Goddess or her powers.”

She noticed that Idris's jaw had tightened and that his grip on the gun seemed more indecisive. His behavior made her understand that she had guessed right. That was the card she could use to her advantage.

“If you let this man live, I will tell you everything,” she insisted.

She looked back at him. She raised her eyebrows and tried to convey to Whiskey that he had to get out of there. She would have thought of saving herself on her own. Whiskey tilted his head forward, offering her only a furious, stern look.

"First, give us the information you have," the Englishman ordered. She studied him with hatred, imagining the way she would kill him. She wouldn't have minded sticking knives into his eyes and ripping them out of their sockets.

“Move your guns on me,” she said in an authoritative tone. “Or I'm not going to talk.”

She was surprised to still be standing.

Idris was the first to point his gun at her, quickly followed by all of the other men.

Diana felt her heart grow heavy, as if she had finally realized what she was doing. She forced herself not to back down. A tear escaped her eye, burning her cheek. She tasted the saltiness of it in her mouth.

She didn't want to die.

Not really.

Even though she had thought too many times about putting an end to that torment people called life. Finding herself truly on the verge of death reminded her that she was alive, that she felt alive. The chains that bound her to life were still too strong to break.

Terror made her whole body tremble.

She reopened her eyes, focusing them on the Englishman who was looking at her impatiently. She parted her lips, ready to confess everything she knew about the Goddess.

She didn't make it in time.

A sudden movement in front of her distracted Diana.

Time seemed to slow down.

She saw Whiskey pull out his gun. She saw the moment the other men noticed and turned to shoot him.

She had to move in those few moments.

She surrendered control to instinct.

The knife fell to the ground. Diana ignored the pain in her legs and lunged forward, reaching for Whiskey, who she covered with her body.

The gunshots entered her flesh. Each pierced her bones and internal organs.

A scream, as powerful as not one before, consumed the inside of her, starting from her diaphragm, passing through her throat and reaching her tongue.

She was on fire.

Sure that she was about to die, she released all her voice.

The scream spread outwards, striking her enemies. She pushed them backwards, sending them into the walls of the room in less than a second, where they collided painfully.

As soon as the scream left her body, Diana felt herself falling. A dead weight that was grasped by powerful and sure arms. She opened heavy eyelids to look at Whiskey's worried, but beautiful, face.

“You came,” she murmured, still not able to believe it.

Whiskey cursed. "No... No." He gripped her tighter, lifting her off the ground. Diana was too weak to fight him. Whiskey turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Siva!”

Diana blinked slowly. Her vision was covered by a white veil, as the very little energy she had left slipped away along with her blood. She was lucky not to be hit in the head or she would never be able to admire their faces one last time.

They all appeared in her field of vision. She saw their dark silhouettes and wanted to smile.

If she still had a voice, she would have asked Whiskey if he was okay. She hoped she had taken all the bullets and saved him from any pain.

She felt other hands grab her. "You'll be fine," someone said.

Diana didn't believe them.

Chapter Text

Whiskey was not giving the sign they had agreed upon.

With his gaze fixed on the ground and his heart beating fast and erratically in his chest, Siva was beginning to fear that something had gone wrong. He should have insisted more until he would have convinced the others to let him being the one to go. He would get rid of their enemies easily. Instead, like the coward he was, he had let Whiskey go. A part of him had hoped that with his death Siva would be free of a burden, not having to be forced to kill him himself. Siva was starting to think every aspect of that situation was a bad idea.

He looked at the weapon in his hand. In his world, he had never needed to use a gun. He had only learned to wield it in the first month he had spent on Earth. No one had ever noticed his poor aim only because Siva was able to control the wounds of his enemies and make them deadly even when they were not.

Ghost, standing next to him, changed position. Siva was not surprised that he had returned. Not for a moment did he doubt that they would see him again. Even though he didn't know him well, Siva was sure he understood what kind of person Ghost was. For this reason, he had known for sure that Ghost would not abandon either the mission or Diana. Siva may have found him grumpy, rude, and aggressive, but he was starting to respect him a little. Only a little, though. If he had been the blessed one instead of Diana, he would have killed him with no regret. He was sure of it.

Spider let out his breath too loudly, drawing Siva's attention. As soon as they had managed to save Diana, Siva would cut out his tongue. It was a blessing (for Spider) that Siva had managed to resist the urge to kill him as soon as they had found out that Diana had been taken.

He would not forget that mistake.

The voices inside the room were loud, but Siva was trying to concentrate on the blood Diana was losing. She had two deep cuts in her legs which, albeit slowly, were already healing. He recognized the fear in her muscles. It had made her heartbeat frantic.

Siva clenched his free fist, commanding himself to remain calm. He couldn't attack the men who dared to harm her without endangering her and his teammates. First, they needed to take her from there, then he would have come into play.

"He dies, I die."

At those words, Siva held his breath. He shifted his gaze, meeting the alarmed ones of the others. They had to intervene before the situation worsened.

Yoo gave them directions with his hands, and Siva did his best to interpret what he was saying.

Tension gathered in Siva's muscles. He hit his head against the wall behind him. She had to be fine. She would be fine.

Whiskey whistled. A quick sound that warned them that he would spring into action.

Siva felt Spider's heart stop beating. He hoped that his teammate could fight. He didn't want to lose two of them on the same day.

They heard shots and moved to reach the door.

They had time to get there to hear Diana's scream. It was much stronger than the one she had used against them. Siva put both hands to his ears, covering them for protection.

As soon as the girl's voice disappeared, Siva looked at his own body, amazed that they had not been hit by a shock wave as had happened the previous day.

He was the first to lean forward to reach Whiskey and Diana. His teammate's back was blocking Siva's vision, and he could only see that their opponents had been defeated.

"Siva!" Whiskey's desperate cry made him drop his gun and run to him.

He met his teammate's frightened gaze and saw to his horror that he was struggling to hold Diana in his arms.

"No," he said, looking down at all the red holes forming in her body. "No!"

"Siva, help her." Whiskey passed the girl to him. His hands were already soaked in blood.

Siva stopped him. "Are you hurt?"

"Siva!" his captain shouted. "Save her!"

Panicking, Siva also raised his voice. "I need you to hold her! I can't carry her and use my power at the same time."

Yoo pushed Siva back, leaning forward to see the girl. He immediately walked away, putting a hand to his mouth to hold back his vomit, in vain.

"We have to leave," Spider shouted. His worried gaze scanned Whiskey and the girl he was holding. "They could get up any minute."

Diana gasped and Siva inserted his consciousness into her, trying to analyze the amount of damage. When he came out, he was crying.

He had to start working immediately.

Diana was about to die.

Ghost lunged at her, forcing Whiskey to let her go. He picked her up, lifting her without any problems. Whiskey groaned, revealing to everyone that he had been shot in his left arm.

"We have to go to the hospital" sanctioned Ghost. "Now!"

"No," Siva replied, wiping his cheeks.

"They could find her there," Spider said at the same time.

They were losing essential seconds.

"I don't give a fuck," Ghost blurted out, starting to run down the stairs. "I have no intention of letting her die."

Whiskey, holding a hand on his dripping wound, reached him. His face was cerulean. Spider followed him, his face growing fearful.

Would he be able to heal them? Siva could not move even a step. He stood still and watched his teammates move away from him. Even Yoo, who had been vomiting near the wall, had joined them.

He could have let both Whiskey and Diana die. After all, he just needed her heart before she took her last breath.

A sudden, searing pain hit his head. As if he had been shot in the head by a memory, Siva was catapulted into the past.

He was fifteen again, which for his people was very young. He was crouched on the ground, in front of him a small kitten-like creature was trembling, while his life slipped from the deep wound on his chest.

Heavy footsteps drew his gaze upward. His father, huge and powerful, was looking at him with a sympathetic expression.

"He is dying," Siva said, bringing his face, streaked with tears, back to his first friend. The dying creature, whom Siva had named Captain Son, gasped a pain-filled breath.

His father remained standing, observing him from his height of two meters. "Life is pain. It cannot exist without it, because it constitutes its very foundation."

"Can you save him?" he asked, his lips trembling.

"Of course I can."

Siva looked at him with hope.

"But I won't."

"Why?" he asked, on the verge of losing himself in uncontrolled crying again.

"Because death is sacred."

"Sacred?" Siva did not understand what he meant.

Watching his friend die, Siva didn't seem to see anything sacred. He just wanted to help him, but at fifteen he hadn't developed his powers yet.

"Yes, sacred." His father's indisposition in justifying what he was saying only made Siva feel worse. "One day you'll understand."

At that moment, Siva told himself that he didn't want to understand it. He didn't want to get to a point in his life where he would be forced to watch his loved ones die without doing anything to help them.

His father placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him to stand up. "We are warriors of Siva, we bring destruction and do not fear death. Remember this well, child."

Siva was suddenly taken away from the memory. He clutched his chest, squeezing hard to keep his heart from exploding.

What did that memory mean? It didn't make sense for it to appear at a time like this. It was unnatural.

His teammates were about to disappear around a corner. Siva looked at them without understanding what had happened to him.

He took a limp step forward.

Why had his mind, if it were his subconscious' fault, decided to show him that memory, at that moment? To remind him of the promise he had made to himself to never see anyone he cared about die again? He had broken that promise the day his father was killed.

Or maybe his mind was telling him that he had to let Diana die. The very idea caused more tears to sting his eyes.

He heard a gasp behind him. One of their enemies was already awakening.

Diana was in danger.

And Siva started running.

He quickly reached the others.

"Whiskey! Tear off your shirt and stop the bleeding," he shouted. "Spider, help him tie his shirt around his arm, it must be over the wound. I'll deal with you as soon as I'm done with her."

He passed Ghost and continued running towards the exit. Behind him, he heard Whiskey and Spider listening to him.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ghost snapped. "We have to go to the hospital."

Siva turned to him and pointed a finger to his face. "Shut up or I'll take your tongue out. I'm strong enough to heal her myself. I just need water and sugar. Lots of sugar."

It would have been perfect if he had had a bag of blood at his disposal, but he didn't have time to go back up and kidnap one of those men. It was a risk he didn't want to take.

They went out the front door. "We need a safe place to hide until she recovers," Whiskey said.

Yoo ran a hand over his mouth, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "I might have a contact in this area. But I'll need time."

"We don't have any," Spider reminded him.

"Contact him immediately!" Siva ordered. "The important thing now is to get there by car, put Diana down, and get away from here. I can start working already in the car."

"Do you think you can..." Whiskey's voice broke. His gaze fell on the still girl.

Everyone looked at her without saying anything.

"I have to try."

Ghost pulled her closer to his chest. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Siva is a wizard," Spider sneered.

If it had not been for the critical situation they were in, Siva would have hit him in the face.

"Hurry!" Whiskey shouted.

The factory gate was locked. Spider shot at the lock until it broke and opened. They ran to the car. Siva jumped into the back seat, while Ghost took the wheel.

Yoo and Whiskey came in behind with Siva, helping him lay down the girl, whose face was looking more and more like that of a corpse.

"Okay," Siva said, repeating it to try to convince himself that he had everything under control.

Sitting in front of her, he carefully placed her head on Whiskey's lap. At the same time, Yoo reached over to grab his bag from the trunk, from which he pulled out a disposable phone.

"Siva." He didn't turn to Ghost, thinking he was wasting his time. "Sugar."

Ghost handed Yoo some sugar packets, which everyone looked at in confusion.

Without giving any explanation, Siva opened them and ingested them in one gulp.

His body reacted with a gasp of repulsion. Even though it was disgusting, the sugar would give him some of the energy he needed.

With the help of Whiskey and Yoo, he tore off the girl's clothes.

The wounds were in a worse state now that they were no longer covered by the fabric. With a lump in his throat, Siva prepared to heal the worst hole: the bullet had narrowly missed his heart. If Diana had been a normal human, she would have died instantly.

Siva placed his hands around the wound and immersed his consciousness inside the girl's flesh. Slowly, he forced the flesh to come together properly and slid the first bullet out.

Normal, doable. Everything still fine.

Siva moved on to the wound on her leg, the one that had hit her artery. It was slower, Yoo's voice, who was talking on the phone to someone, distracted him, preventing him from concentrating fully.

Yet, he managed to heal her.

He gave himself a second to breathe. His throat was dry and his hands were starting to shake.

"How is it going?" Whiskey asked him.

Siva looked up at him. He managed to smile for just a second. Worrying about how bad she looked would only delay his work.

"Water," he said hoarsely. "Great."

Spider hit him on the shoulder and Siva received more sugar.

"Water!" he shouted. He felt like a screaming child.

Yoo, placing the phone between his ear and shoulder, leaned forward to reach for a water bottle from their bags. He handed it to Siva, who drank greedily.

He moved on to the bullet that had hit her liver. The organs were a delicate point to deal with. He couldn't just heal the wound, he had to restore all the connections.

His hands, full of blood, pressed on Diana's flesh, risking creating other wounds. Siva pushed his consciousness deeper into her cells, which he forced to duplicate until he saw Diana's skin close under his fingers.

He smiled, tired more than ever, but excited.

His body was starting to show the first signs of failure: his heartbeats became slower and slower, while Diana's became louder and more regular; his hands unable to stay still and his vision blurred.

He blinked, telling himself to hold on.

He moved on to the next wound. A bullet in her arm. Simple.

He was given more bags of sugar, a chocolate bar, and some water. Siva gorged himself as if it were his last supper.

Over the next few minutes, he continued to treat the worst wounds. Unfortunately, the others would have to be taken care of by her alone.

He closed the wound on her shoulder and leaned back in his seat.

Diana's body was intact, but if she had survived they would only find out later. Even if he had stitched her together with his magic, until she woke up, they would not be sure that she would survive.

"How much longer?" he managed to ask.

"An hour." He couldn't tell who the voice belonged to and how much time had already passed.

He closed his eyes, because his sight had become a white veil. His ears were ringing.

Someone, perhaps Yoo, placed a water bottle on his chest, which Siva refused. Diana would need it more than him as soon as she woke up.

Because she was going to wake up.

Siva had to believe it. He had to believe in her and the Goddess.

"Whis-" He didn't have the voice to say his full name. He held out a hand, hoping that his teammate would understand that he had to pass his arm.

"I'm fine," but his voice was little more than a hiss.

"Now." Siva wasn't sure if he would be able to help him. He had no strength and would need at least a full day of sleep. He could not fall asleep before giving instructions to the others on how to aid Diana's recovery.

Whiskey grunted in pain and placed his wrist in Siva's hand, who tightened his fingers around it. He couldn't dive deep. "Press hole," he said.

Someone must have been listening because Whiskey cursed and Siva felt the bullet move.

For the last time, he commanded the flesh to reject the metal.

Siva felt vomit rising in his throat. He closed a fist in front of his mouth and leaned forward. Whiskey's flesh closed violently. Siva was sure that a huge scar would remain and that the captain would be in pain for at least a week.

Siva's head began to spin and he was sure he was about to lose consciousness. He slumped against the seat. He pointed, or at least hoped he was pointing, at Diana. "Tub, water, lots of it. Hours." He prayed that they would understand. He pointed to himself. "Awake, food and water."

If he had been able to, he would have told them to prepare a hearty meal, with simple-to-digest ingredients.

He felt what energy he had left slipping out of his body. "She is alive," he whispered.

And then, he was greeted by the peace of darkness.

Chapter Text

It was a gamble. Yoo knew it very well.

But they had no other options. If they had gone to a hotel they would have attracted too much attention and a hospital was out of question.

They were lucky that his contact was in that area and that he had an apartment available. Maybe too lucky. Yoo tried not to think about it.

As soon as they arrived at the address his contact had given him, Yoo got out of the car. Before closing the door, he took one last look at the three people who were resting. Whiskey had fallen asleep as soon as Siva had closed his wound. Yoo was satisfied to see their chests rise.

Ghost and Spider stayed in the car, but rolled down the windows to hear better.

Yoo walked towards the door of the small self-contained house. He looked at it quickly, his mind tired and his body begging him for rest. It was a two-story building, less than five meters wide and a little more long.

His contact, an Austrian man with whom he had worked in the past, said that he was the only one inside the house.

“Dokkaebi?” the voice came from behind him.

Yoo turned towards the street.

He recognized him immediately. The same cloth he had last seen him wearing was covering his face, but he recognized him anyway. It wasn't easy to forget about a brute more than two meters tall who dressed only in black and covered his face with a poorly cut t-shirt.

"König."

His old teammate looked Yoo up and down, focusing on his face again. “You're not wearing…”

Yoo interrupted him: “I don't need it anymore.”

He didn't care to think back to the time when he called himself Dokkaebi.

König seemed to understand it and nodded. He came towards him and Yoo stiffened, no longer used to being around that man who barely seemed human. Two meters tall and one meter wide, König was a frightening man; his icy gaze and his low, deep voice probably only added to his menacing aura.

They didn't waste time on useless pleasantries. König opened the door, but before letting him in, he glanced at the car parked near the curb.

“They're with me,” Yoo specified.

König responded by shaking his head and leaving the door open behind him. He had to bend over to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe.

Yoo met Ghost's gaze and motioned for him to follow.

He entered first, making sure the house was safe. “I hope it's not a problem for you,” he began, following König inside. His old teammate allowed him to see every room. It was a small house, with a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom, and a small closet. “How long have you been in Germany?” he asked, not knowing how daring he could be with the questions.

He and König had never been close, words had always remained few between them. But they had saved each other's lives, and when they parted ways, König had given him a number he could call in case of need.

How lucky for Yoo to have finally used that favor.

“Not much.”

Yoo had to settle for that answer.

He followed König to the kitchen. His old teammate reached the refrigerator. "Can I offer you something?"

Yoo started to answer. Hearing the footsteps of his teammates, he turned his attention to the front door. Spider walked in, carrying Diana in his arms.

Yoo walked to him, leading him towards the bedroom. He remained in the hallway, his gaze intently on Spider and the girl he was laying on the bed. They had dressed her, but it was necessary to put clean clothes on her. She must have had a couple of changes in her backpack.

He turned again, drawn by Ghost's heavy footsteps. He saw him carrying Siva's examined body on his shoulder. It looked like he was carrying dead weight. Siva was placed next to Diana.

As they exited the room, Ghost and Spider gave König a long, suspicious look, which he returned with curious eyes. Yoo knew König wouldn't ask them any annoying questions.

Whiskey entered the house with a slow and tired step. He closed the door behind him and joined the others in the kitchen. So they all found themselves sitting around the table.

Silence hung in the air between them.

Long, intense minutes passed before Spider said, “We're grateful for your help. And I know I'm being rude,” his tone trying to be formal and honest. “But can we talk alone?” His dark eyes stared hard at König.

König stood up, placing a hand on the table to help himself. Without saying anything, he left the house. Yoo was grateful for his ability to not make a scene. If he had found himself in his shoes and had to deal with Spider, he would certainly have reacted badly.

Yoo glanced at Whiskey's arm. "If you need to rest…"

“No,” said Whiskey, clutching his bicep. A circle of skin, the size of the dial of the watch on his wrist, was healing. Yoo thought he was lucky to have only gotten that wound.

They were lucky to have Siva.

"So?" Spider said, sighing loudly. He had his arms crossed over his chest, an exhausted expression on his face, and his back pressed against the chair.

“Magic is real,” Whiskey whispered, raising his eyebrows.

Yoo shouldn't have been surprised. If ghosts existed, why couldn't magic be real?

“No bomb hit us,” Spider continued. "It was her. Yelling at us?”

Yoo nodded. It was the same conclusion he had come to too.

“And Siva knows how to heal people?” Ghost asked.

Whiskey closed his eyes and rubbed his frowning brow. "While you were gone, he also did a… ritual. I don't know what other word to use."

"Ritual is the same term I would have chosen," Spider interjected.

“He used our blood to locate Diana,” Yoo explained. He gave Ghost a confused look. “How did you find us?”

Ghost took off his gloves. Yoo had expected to see scarred hands. Instead, he could see very few. Ghost's hands were normal: pale and well-groomed.

"I received a message with coordinates," he said.

"From who?" Spider asked, leaning forward.

Ghost looked up at him. "I thought it was yours."

Whiskey stared at the hand of his injured arm. He opened it and closed it again as if he were checking to make sure he could still use it. “It wasn't us.”

“The lieutenant?” Yoo surmised.

Whiskey shook his head. “What time did the message reach you?”

Ghost reported the time.

"It makes no sense! Diana was still on the train" Yoo reflected. His leg started banging under the table.

“It wasn't the lieutenant,” concluded Whiskey.

“Who, then?” Spider wondered.

Who knew that Ghost would try to get back to them, and that Diana would be taken to that factory?

"Siva spoke of a Goddess…"

Spider laughed and Yoo glared at him. "And you believe him?"

No, he hadn't believed him. "How do you explain it, then? Who could know everything, even predict people's thoughts, if not someone who is like a God?”

Whiskey licked his lips. "Perhaps Siva knows more," he said. “As soon as he wakes up we need to talk to him.”

Yoo jumped up and all eyes fell on him. "He said we had to immerse Diana in water." He hoped that his failure to remember immediately his indications wouldn't prove fatal.

Spider frowned. “You were able to decipher what he was saying?”

“It wasn't that difficult.”

Whiskey started to get up. It was clear that every movement required strength that he no longer possessed. Before he could stand up, Yoo placed a hand on his shoulder. "Stay here. We'll take care of it."

He expected the older man to object and was surprised to see him relax in the chair and nod.

Yoo, followed by Ghost, entered the room where they had left Diana. They picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. There, Ghost filled the bathtub with hot water, while Yoo undressed the girl.

He allowed himself to study her body. The wounds that Siva had tended to had healed, but huge, clear scars remained. Some wounds were still open. Yoo could see some bullets still present in her flesh. He put his face close to her left arm, looking closely at her biceps. Diana's muscles seemed to be moving. Maybe it was more of a vibration, as if her flesh was stitching itself together.

As soon as the tub was filled enough, Ghost and Yoo immersed the girl.

Diana gasped and a strangled sound left her closed lips. Yoo told himself that her frown was a good sign.

Staring down at her, enveloped in the warm waters of the bathtub, Yoo thought she looked like a sleeping beauty. He only hoped that she would wake up on her own, because he was sure that none of them were her Prince Charming.

He turned and started to leave. Realizing that Ghost wasn't following him, he placed a hand on his shoulder. “We don't need to stay and watch her.”

“She might drown.”

The water was shallow, but Yoo hadn't thought of that possibility. "She's fine." He let go of Ghost. “If she wakes up, call us.” Within a few hours, Yoo promised himself that he would return to check on both her and Siva, who was still sleeping in the bed.

He walked past him, wondering how he had managed to save Diana. Accepting the existence of people capable of using magic would have taken a long time.

He returned to the kitchen and for the next few hours, sat doing nothing. Whiskey and Spider were both too tired to start a conversation.

Yoo stood up only to check on Diana and Siva again. They were both still sleeping, their bodies calmer and more relaxed than when they had gotten there. He asked Ghost if he wanted to rest, but his teammate responded by shaking his head. His gaze remained glued to the girl who was swinging on the surface of the water the entire time. The t-shirt they had put on her, taken from König's closet without permission (Yoo would tell him about it as soon as he returned), was soaked and was covering her worst wounds. However, if she had lost more blood, they would have seen it swaying in the water.

An hour later, Yoo was sitting around the kitchen table and holding his head with his hands. He imagined himself from the previous month, when he still had no idea about that job. Part of him wanted to go back. He would have refused Lieutenant Caruso's offer and would have remained where he was. If he hadn't been too busy with the work by now, he would have backed out already. But he couldn't do it, especially not now that he had confirmation that dangerous people were after his girl.

They had to find a solution to save her.

But first, they had to understand who they were up against. And why.

A loud gasp snatched him from his thoughts. Yoo jumped up and ran into the bedroom. There, he breathed a sigh of relief to see that Siva had woken up.

Siva, leaning forward, put his hands in front of his mouth and coughed.

Ghost came out of the bathroom to see what was going on.

“Siva, are you okay?” Whiskey asked, taking a step towards the bed. Yoo noticed that his tone was more thoughtful than usual.

Siva shook his head. "Diana?" His voice was hoarse and Yoo remembered that he had said that he would need to drink as soon as he woke up. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water.

"She's alive," Spider said. His trembling voice betrayed his insecurity.

Yoo reached Siva to give him the bottle, from which he drank greedily.

Looking up to meet their eyes, Siva asked, "Have you..."

“She's been in the tub for hours now,” Ghost said quickly. “Do we have to do anything else?”

Siva shook his head. “That's fine, for now.” He let his head fall forward and breathed deeply.

Realizing that he was still tired, Yoo rubbed his shoulder. "You can go back to sleep. We'll take care of her."

Siva licked his dry, red lips. “No, I have to stay awake,” he objected, placing the bottle on the bedside table and putting his feet on the floor. “If you…”

“You've already done enough,” Ghost interrupted in a harsh voice. “You deserve to rest.”

The eyes with which Siva looked at him were shining.

Whiskey sat at the foot of the bed. "When you feel better, we need to talk," he said, looking at his teammate.

Siva's expression hardened. "We can do it now," he insisted. "You certainly have a lot of questions. But before you ask them, I want to make a few things clear." He lowered his gaze, fixing it on his own hands still covered in blood. Yoo thought they all needed a good shower. As soon as Diana woke up they would leave there, find a quiet apartment, and then recover. "I inherited my powers from my family. For generations, we have been blessed with these abilities by God Siva. It is from him that I took my name. And my father before me..."

"Powers? Plural?” Spider asked, interrupting Siva's train of thought.

"Yes," he replied. "I also can…"

The front door was thrown open and everyone listened to König enter the house. Yoo met Whiskey's gaze. “Better talk later.”

Except for Ghost and Siva, who went to see Diana, everyone reached the kitchen, where König had brought some shopping bags. "I bought something for you," he said, without meeting their eyes.

Yoo relaxed. Not seeing him for all those hours, he had begun to fear that he had trusted the wrong man and had put them all in danger.

He thanked his old teammate and helped him with the groceries.

Chapter Text

Everyone was singing.

Diana spread her arms outward, running among the people she knew. Their voices were united in a loud chorus. She couldn't remember the last time she had smiled so much and that she had felt as free as she did at that moment. She imagined that actors in musical theater felt that way: carefree, thrilled, and happy.

The people around her came from different worlds: her family, her friends, among whom she recognized faces she hadn't seen for years, old classmates who had never been unpleasant to her.

Diana continued to twirl among them, enjoying the beauty of their booming, melodic voices. She joined with her own, feeling like the main star of the show. She was the protagonist that everyone loved, perfect and funny, always correct, and who had been granted a life free of pain.

It was everything she deserved.

She raised her arms to the clear blue sky, basking in the spring sun kissing her.

Someone grabbed her shoulders and she spun. She found herself in front of her sister. Diana was led in a dance of knees. Down, down, down.

“Who will betray you?” sang her sister. “Which of them is the monster you must fear?”

Not understanding what she was saying, Diana didn't listen to her words and concentrated only on the melody.

More hands turned her over and she met her brother's eyes. At that moment, seeing him singing, she understood that she was in a dream (in reality it was practically impossible to convince him to sing). “Who will wield the sword that will tear out your heart?”

This time she couldn't help but hear what they were singing.

Why had the dream stopped being a silly musical and become a show with betrayals?

Diana shook her head, freeing herself from her brother's hands. “I don't like this,” she said. "Let's go back to the song from before."

It was her head, her dream, and she could control the narrative.

She put her hands in front of her eyes and sang a song she knew by heart, one of the happy, carefree ones. When she opened her eyes again, everything would be as happy as before.

“Tu vivi nell'aria,” she crooned.

You live in the sky.

The people around her followed her lead, starting to sing as she desired.

Still with her eyelids sealed, Diana turned around again. Her voice got louder until she drowned out those of the people around her.

"Tu vivi nell'aria, tu vivi dentro al mio cuore" her words came out naturally. As a child, she had sung them until she could vomit. She still remembered car rides to go on vacation with her family. They all sang together, even her brother.

You live in the sky, you live inside my heart.

"Tu sei il mio amore..."

You are my love…

Beyond her voice, she heard nothing. She stopped, hoping to hear someone continue for her.

Only silence.

Her eyes widened, confused.

She lost her breath. She was no longer in a flowery, insect-free field with a powerful, pleasant sun.

Around her, there was only desolation. An arid black desert, made of shadows, under a gray sky and an overcast sun.

The only background noise was heavy, determined footsteps.

Diana didn't dare to turn around, fearing it was Him. She hadn't forgotten how painful it was to dream of Him. Her eyes burned.

"Diana."

She whirled around. If she had been awake, her neck would have broken from how quickly she turned over.

It wasn't His voice.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Spider, looking him up and down. He shouldn't have been there.

Spider looked straight into her eyes and his lips remained sealed.

"What is going on?"

He didn't answer, instead taking a step towards her. Diana shivered and backed away. She wanted to run away from him, but her legs were heavy.

Spider advanced. His face was impassive, an emotionless mask. His brown complexion seemed darker than usual and his black eyes reminded her of two pointed, sharp stones.

She swallowed dryly, commanding her feet to move. “Stop,” she told him, trying to sound serious. “I don't want to hurt you, but I won't hesitate if I have to.”

The man ignored her. Was she really surprised? He had never listened to her.

The veins in Spider's eyes turned black, slowly taking over the entire sclera. Diana found herself looking at her reflection in two black holes.

“Kneel,” he ordered.

Diana's body obeyed. She held her breath, taken aback by that betrayal.

Spider stopped in front of her, looking down at her with an expression that made her tremble.

“What…” her voice died in her throat as if someone had stolen it.

She put her hands around her own neck, realizing that without a voice she couldn't scream and without a scream, Diana was nothing more than a fragile and weak girl. She couldn't protect herself.

She begged Spider with her eyes.

His expression showed no emotion. How could he when his eyes were a manifestation of the void that made up the cosmos itself?

A wind whipped their faces. Diana blinked her eyelids closed, protecting herself as best she could.

When she opened them again she saw that the shadows were gathering in Spider's hand to form what looked like a sword.

Diana bit her lip, breaking it with her teeth until it bled. Why did he want to kill her? Hadn't he been chosen to protect her?

The Goddess had lied. There was no other explanation.

She shouldn't have been surprised. She was still talking about the same creature that had ruined her life when she was still a child.

She looked at Spider one last time and, realizing that she wouldn't be able to stop him, she closed her eyes. The darkness was comforting. “Do it,” she begged, regaining some voice, albeit as faint as the light wind that was caressing her hair. "Come on."

At least she wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. Her heart would not end up in the wrong hands, her family would live, safe without her.

Everything would be fine.

And she would finally be granted some peace.

She had desired it for a long time.

Her heart seemed to calm down, accepting the fate that awaited her.

But no blow cut her in two.

Confused and wondering what was stopping Spider, Diana opened her eyes.

In front of her, she saw a dark ceiling, in the center of which an old candelabra was hanging. She blinked until she got used to it.

She sat up, discovering that she was in a huge double bed, in an unfamiliar room, and wearing a knee-length T-shirt. She was alone and had been lying on a soaked towel.

She looked down, realizing that she was wet.

“Ciao…” she murmured, trying to find out if she could still talk. Her voice was there, but it was low and hoarse, it came out with difficulty, clearing her dry throat.

She turned to the nightstand and picked up the bottle of water that had been left there. She drank half a liter, but her thirst was not quenched.

She let her feet hang over the bed, allowing her gaze to sweep over the room. It was large, but the huge wardrobes, which took up an entire wall, and the bed made it seem smaller.

This was not how she had imagined the afterlife. She had hoped to wake up in a field of flowers, the sunset, or the dawn to welcome her. She would get up, she would run towards the infinite horizon until she found her father and the cat they had had when she was in elementary school. She would hug her father, asking him to forgive her. Then, she would shower the cat with kisses and caresses.

Voices beyond the closed door caught her attention. She saw a light coming from outside. Maybe the afterlife was waiting for her behind that door.

She forced herself to stand up. Her legs trembled and she cursed in surprise as she staggered forward. She had expected the pain to disappear at least in her death.

She opened the door with weak hands and was blinded by a bright light. The sun was as blinding as she had ever seen.

She covered her eyes with her palm and tried to analyze her whereabouts.

As soon as she adjusted, she was met with the worried and surprised faces of her five assholes.

She was tempted to go back into the room and lock herself there forever.

She wasn't dead. How did she not die?

She wanted to swear. She was tempted to show them her vast knowledge of deities and saints. She would have mentioned them all, from A to Z.

Then she felt like crying.

Only at the end did anger arrive.

She opened her eyes and focused them on Pedro. Raising a finger at him, she walked in uncertain steps. “What the fuck were you doing?” she blurted out, starting to scream. "Are you dumb?"

The men moved away from the table where they had sat to eat. They sprinted towards her, while Pedro backed away. He looked scared.

Yoo tried to hold her and keep her from moving. Diana yanked his hands off her. "What were you thinking throwing yourself headlong into a trap? What the fuck do they teach you in America?”

“Diana, calm down,” Siva begged, stepping between her and Whiskey. “Sit down, you're not fully recovered yet.”

She gave him an outraged look. “What the fuck was your plan, morons?” she snapped. “Go in there and hope not to die?”

She took a step back, annoyed at how everyone had gathered around her. They were looking at her like it was a miracle. As if they cared about her.

“We had a plan,” Whiskey said.

Diana had to stand on tiptoe to look over Siva's shoulder. "And what would that be?"

“Sit down,” Ghost ordered, stopping behind her. From his look, Diana guessed that if she didn't obey, he would grab her and force her to sit.

She turned to him. Before the clever answer she wanted to tell him left her lips, she realized that another figure was present in the room. She eyed the sixth man. "And who the fuck is he? One of your friends, Ghost? Do you have a metal band where you're all masked?" She liked the idea too much.

Ghost clenched his fists and gave her a look that told her he was about to lose his temper.

Not having the scream available to her, Diana stepped back. It would be foolish to play with them when she was in no condition to defend herself.

She tried to reach a chair, but a jolt of pain shot through her body. Her legs gave way and she felt what little energy she had in her body slip away.

She didn't have time to warn them.

Before she hit the floor, powerful arms caught her. With her vision blurred, she couldn't tell who had grabbed her.

She took one last forced breath, then she was welcomed back into the cold arms of sleep.

She woke up hours later. No dreams, just eyes suddenly opened as soon as her mind regained the energy it needed to work.

Her senses were on alert, but they didn't allow her to understand what the problem was.

She stared at the ceiling, recognizing that she was in the same room where she had last woken up. It took her a few minutes to realize that there was something weird in the corner of her vision. She moved her gaze to the side, focusing it on the black head of a man she didn't know.

He was looking down at her, his light blue eyes examining her face and body.

Diana stood still, still too tired to fight.

She sighed and looked back at the ceiling, questioning her body to see if she could use her scream to defend herself. She felt it deep down, between her stomach and diaphragm. It was weak, needing more hours to recharge. If she needed, though, it would run by her throat.

She looked back at the man and sat down, carefully so as not to scare him. “Are you here to kill me?”

She tensed, discovering that they were not alone in the room. Whiskey was sleeping next to her in the same bed. His face was turned to the ceiling and he looked destroyed. She wondered where the others were.

“No,” the man replied. His voice was low and the deepest she had ever heard. “I don't want to kill you.”

She had asked the wrong question. She would only realize it much later.

She should have asked him who he worked for or why he was in Germany. Any question that would allow her to get some information about the people who were looking for her.

Instead, she settled for that answer.

She looked at the strange cloth the man had on his face. "What do you have under? Tentacles?”

Disrespecting people was a great way to find out who they were.

The man remained still and silent. His gaze, perpetually fixed on her face, began to make her uncomfortable. Diana scratched her arm, her nails hitting the skin painfully. Instead of stopping, she scraped harder, receiving a mixture of pain and pleasure.

She looked at her bicep, realizing she had a huge scab that she was about to reopen with her nails. Had a bullet lodged in that hole? She guessed the answer herself and moved her gaze to the rest of her body that wasn't covered by the shirt, noticing more scabs or scars.

How can I be alive?

The Goddess offered her no solution.

A heavy breath reminded her that she was not alone. Whiskey shifted behind her and Diana went back to investigating the giant who was staring at her.

“Do you want a picture?”

The man finally stopped looking at her. He turned his head towards the door and, without giving her any explanation, left.

Diana remained seated, her body too painful to get up and leave the room. Even if she had the strength, she doubted she would have stood up. She had no desire to meet with others. The last time she saw them, she had hurt them and they had found out who she was. If she got out of there, she would have to answer their questions, give them explanations, and talk about things she didn't like to think about.

She then decided to stay there, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into the distance, while the man she had chosen to protect snored behind her.

Chapter Text

Oscar opened the door without thinking. It was a simple check, the last one he had done was more than two hours earlier. He entered the room without any expectations.

As soon as he saw her, awake and sitting up, he froze, his breath held by the lump in his throat.

He felt like he was looking at a ghost. Pale and weak, Diana could have vanished like dust.

She didn't seem to notice him. Her head was turned forward.

Motionless.

A doll, broken and put back together piece by piece, that couldn't move on its own.

He dared to take a step forward, entering the dark veil of the room. Dawn had not yet risen and no rays of sunlight were passing through the curtains drawn over the closed windows, nor through the open door behind him. The whole house was silent and dark. Oscar had to move slowly, trying not to crash into anything or anyone.

He wondered if she was still sleeping. Maybe she was sleepwalking.

When he advanced further, the parquet creaked under the soles of his shoes, and Diana's gaze snapped to him. They stared at each other, both still and silent.

Swallowing his pride and pain, Oscar spoke first. "How are you feeling?"

“Like shit,” was the girl's hoarse response.

For once, her vulgarity reassured him. It was confirmation that she was alive and there, a few steps away from him.

Diana's eyes studied him in the dark. "You?"

After everything that had happened, Oscar hadn't expected her to ask him back. Why had she asked? If she and Whiskey had been shot, it was his fault. He didn't deserve her worry.

"I'm unharmed," he said in a small voice.

“Do you know how to use shadows?”

Oscar frowned. "What?"

"I asked you if you can control the shadows, the darkness. Do you have a sword made of darkness?”

"No!"

She must have gone crazy after losing too much blood.

Diana cracked a smile. "Great."

“Why…” he stopped, realizing he wasn't ready to have a conversation with her yet. "Why did you ask me that?" Maybe there was a meaning behind it that he didn't understand.

Diana shrugged. "Because I can."

“Can you control the shadows?” he asked, confused.

Her laughter caressed him gently. A sound that filled him with warmth. “No, you idiot.”

"So?"

He saw her shake her head. "Move on."

Oscar looked at her without commenting. Her chest rose and fell slowly as if its simple movement caused her pain. Her back was bent forward, curved downward.

I am sorry.

Three words that Oscar felt in his throat.

It wouldn't have been difficult to move his tongue to pronounce them.

Oscar opened his mouth, trying to knock them out. His voice broke into a pained gasp, which drew Diana's gaze back to him.

Why couldn't he say it? It was true. He felt sorry. It was his fault. He was the one who had attacked her, using words that he knew would hurt her. He had chosen to do it.

It was as if his body was refusing to say them.

Oscar tried to think of the last time he had used them, but his mind seemed to go blank. He ran a hand over his temples, pressing on the stiff muscles. “Can you walk?” He didn't want to rush her, but it wasn't safe for them to stay in one place for too long.

"I do not know."

He advanced towards her, willing to help. "Try."

He expected her to respond rudely. He deserved it. Diana, however, placed her hands on the bed and stood up. Her legs trembled and before she could fall, Oscar reached her, grabbing her arms.

A groan of pain made him realize that he was hurting her. Looking down he realized that he had grabbed her just below one of the wounds that Siva had not treated. He changed his grip on her, but still held her tightly.

“It's okay,” he told her, hoping to sound kind. "You must rest some more. We won't leave until you get better."

Diana exhaled a weak breath. “No, I have to do it.”

“Sit,” he ordered, pushing her back into bed. Diana put up a feeble resistance, but eventually, she let herself go onto the mattress.

Oscar tried to move away from her, but Diana grabbed him by the wrist and, in order not to lose his balance, Oscar placed a hand next to the girl's thigh. Their faces were a short distance from each other. Oscar was able to see every detail of her beauty.

“You have questions,” she told him. “Ask.”

Closing his eyes so as not to risk looking at her lips, Oscar snorted. “Later,” he murmured.

He straightened up, putting distance between them before he could make a mistake. Diana didn't let him go. “Why later?”

Oscar glanced at the man lying in bed behind her. Pedro had gone to rest shortly after the man who was hosting them had returned. They had to convince him and when Ghost advanced towards him, Pedro seemed to understand that he had to listen. He was sleeping with his lips parted and his brow furrowed. Oscar hoped that when he woke up he would feel better.

“We'll talk about it when we're all together.” He placed a hand on her head, stroking her hair. “As soon as you feel a little better, we can leave.”

Diana seemed to look at him with enchanted eyes and Oscar was crossed by a wave of pleasure that blinded his mind.

If he hadn't heard footsteps outside the room, he would definitely kneel and embarrass himself in front of her.

Yoo appeared in the doorway. His eyes opened and he ran towards them, more precisely, towards her. Oscar stepped back, hoping that Yoo hadn't caught the atmosphere that had been created between him and the girl.

Yoo grabbed her face, turning it from side to side, and peppered her with questions. She spoke aloud, oblivious to the man who was still sleeping. Pedro made a muffled noise and turned to the other side, giving them his back.

“I'm alive,” Diana said, trying to free herself from Yoo's grip.

“I can tell,” he replied, continuing to examine her. "Are you hungry? Thirst? You need to eat something."

Diana rolled her eyes, but from her slight smile, Oscar understood that the attentions pleased her. "It's not even dawn..."

"I don't care," he cut short. He put his hands under her armpits and forced her to stand up. Oscar took a step forward, ready to help her if she couldn't walk. Yoo, taking Oscar by surprise, forced Diana to climb into his arms. To keep from falling, the girl wrapped her thighs around his torso and her arms around his neck.

Hearing him whisper "Good girl, I'll take care of you", Oscar felt a sudden anger cloud his mind. He clenched his fists until his nails dug into the palm of his hand so as not to throw himself at Yoo and split them.

Yoo held her, placing his hand under her ass, and effortlessly carried her to the kitchen. Oscar followed them, staring carefully. He noticed every little movement and listened to their every breath. Diana looked embarrassed, Yoo didn't seem to mind.

He only let her go after moving a chair. He made sure to put her down properly and asked again if she was okay.

Diana waved a hand between them. “I'm not fragile, I will survive.”

Oscar hit the table with his knuckles. “Twelve bullets,” he said. He realized he had spoken too loudly and lowered the volume of his voice. “Twelve fucking bullets went through you.” Diana opened her eyes wide, letting him know that she hadn't even noticed them. “If it hadn't been for Siva you would be…” he dropped the sentence.

“Siva?” she asked.

Yoo reached the refrigerator and started looking for something to cook. “You're alive because of him.”

"How?" Diana looked up at Oscar. “What did he do?”

Oscar forced himself to take a deep breath. "He can use magic," he explained. "Like you."

From her troubled expression, he understood she didn't know about Siva’s power. She fell into a deep silence to reflect. "Where is he?" she asked after a few minutes. Yoo had started cutting a carrot and soaking some salad, while Oscar had chosen to sit and continue watching her.

"Outside," he replied. "In the car. He and Ghost are sleeping.”

Diana moved her head to look at the bedroom door, which Oscar had closed behind him when they had left. “Were you also sleeping there?” she seemed to feel guilty for reasons that Oscar couldn't understand.

“I stayed here in the kitchen.” Oscar didn't tell them that he had fallen asleep with his head on the table for an hour.

"Who was that man? The tall one with the covered face."

“An old contact of mine,” Yoo said, starting to slice the carrot. He placed it on a shallow plate, to which he then added the salad. Before placing the plate in front of Diana, he turned to put a pan of red meat on the stove. “Do you want onions too?”

"At this time in the morning? No, thank you." She raised a hand to her mouth to yawn. “Do you trust him?”

Yoo had his back to her. "Yes."

Diana seemed satisfied with that answer.

When Yoo finished cooking, he and Oscar stood and watched her eat. Diana objected, saying it was too much and she feared she would vomit, but they convinced her to down it all.

“Happy?” she asked them, pushing the empty plate away from her.

Oscar stood up and took the plate to put it in the sink and clean it. “Always, when you're being such a good girl.”

Diana held her breath. “Oh, fuck you.”

Oscar laughed. He would a thousand times prefer to annoy her and be insulted rather than experience the same emotions he had felt just less than an hour before.

Caring for Diana was fine. But the emotions he could feel for her ended there. He couldn't allow himself anything else, especially nothing physical.

When he finished washing her dishes and turned to her, he found Diana glaring at him. Her reaction amused him further. She may have put on an angry face, but he had noticed the few seconds she had blushed after he spoke.

He felt Yoo's hard eyes on him and decided to ignore them.

Oscar returned to his seat and a moment before sitting down, he changed his mind. "Do you feel like staying up for a few hours?"

"Why?"

“If you're better, we could get out of here,” he said. “Siva and Whiskey can sleep in the car, while the three of us,” he looked at Yoo, “switch behind the wheel.”

Diana leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. "I have to go back to the lake," she reminded him. “We can't leave Germany.”

"The lake wasn't that far from the border with France," said Oscar, also seeking the support of his teammate. “We might be safer there.”

“If we're looking for a place near the border, we shouldn't have too many hours' drive,” Yoo suggested. “How many days do you think you need?”

Diana scratched her dry lip, peeling away the dead skin. “I don't know,” she admitted. "A week? I hope less."

“We can't stay in one place for that long,” Oscar mused.

"We book two days in a hotel or apartment, and then we look for another one."

Diana looked down. “Have you spoken to the lieutenant?”

"Yes." Oscar crossed his arms. "She's glad you're alive."

“Do you know who those men were?”

“She said she'd call us as soon as she found out,” Yoo replied.

Diana didn't respond, giving Oscar the impression that she was getting lost in her thoughts.

"Can you tell us something about them? What happened?" he asked, taking a step towards her. "Try to be detailed."

Diana parted her lips, about to answer.

The creaking of the bedroom door interrupted her. Pedro walked painfully towards them. He rested his sleepy eyes on Diana and breathed a sigh of relief. “You're here,” he murmured, approaching the table.

Diana kept her gaze away from him. “I don't speak to stupid people.”

Oscar raised his eyebrows and looked from her to Pedro, who had come over to sit with them.

Pedro didn't say anything, just looked at her harshly. It seemed to bother Diana. Her eyes narrowed and she met his gaze. "What were you planning to do? Huh?”

“Save you.”

Diana made a sound of disgust. “Offering yourself as a sacrifice?”

“If it was necessary, yes.” The determination in Pedro's expression and tone forced Oscar to sit back down. He didn't have the strength to handle the emotions he was feeling, listening to those words, while standing. Part of him was grateful that Diana had sacrificed herself because she had allowed them both to live.

Diana hit her forehead with her fingertips. "Idiotic!" she shouted. “If you dare do it again, I'll save your ass only to kill you myself.”

Pedro clenched his jaw. “It's my job, kid,” he reminded her. “When I took the job, I said I was ready to die for you.”

Diana, suddenly speechless, shook her head. Her eyes were shining. She lowered them and licked her lips. “No,” she whispered. She placed her hands on the table to help herself up. Yoo and Oscar walked towards her, but she pushed them away. She walked on soft, unsure feet. She took just a few steps towards the door, then she turned back to Pedro. "I won't let anyone die for me anymore." She pointed a finger at him. “Print it in that beautiful, but stupid, old fucking head of yours.”

Without another word, she walked back into the room and slammed the door behind her.

Chapter Text

It was almost evening and all six of them were sitting around the table.

The apartment they had found was located in France, near the border with Germany. Before reaching it they had spent half the day in the car, then they had stopped to meet a contact from Artemide who had given them another car, larger and longer. They had reached a city far from the one where the apartment was located, had withdrawn a lot of cash, and then finally, after more hours of driving, they had ended their long journey.

Since they had received confirmation that someone was following them, they had to be more cautious. The lieutenant had told them that she had discovered the presence of a mole among the people she trusted and that she would get rid of them herself.

The Tamahime was sitting at the head of the table and was rocking in her chair, in the fingers of her left hand she had a full glass of wine. She had told them that she wouldn't be able to have that conversation sober. Obviously, no one had accepted her getting drunk and they had reached the compromise of making her drink a glass of low-quality wine.

Ghost studied her face, trying to figure out what she was thinking. He couldn't decipher her coldness.

“Start when you want,” Yoo urged her. He was sitting to her right.

Diana didn't even spare him a glance and she continued to stare at the glass as if it were an object she was seeing for the first time in her life. She took another long minutes. She then placed the glass on the table and breathed through her nose. "When I was six years old I heard a voice that didn't belong to me for the first time," she said in a calm tone. "It was inside my head and only I could hear it. Initially, I didn't give it too much thought. It was a rare voice, which I only heard when I was doing something wrong, like when I was about to cut myself or skid on my bicycle. Naively, I thought it was God trying to protect me. Maybe it doesn't need to be specified, but my family is Catholic and I started going to church when I was very young."

She stopped to catch her breath. Her fingers swung the glass, hitting the bottom on the table. "The voice didn't belong to the Christian God." A smile of disgust curled her lips. "She told me to call her Tama. A name that I found strange right away. I thought it came from another language. And it did, but I didn't realize it was the language of another planet."

Ghost swallowed.

"The Ycan," Siva murmured.

Diana looked up at him. “Ycan,” she repeated. “An ancient language,” she said as if it were ridiculous, “spoken far away from here. Tama means 'pain' or 'blood'."

"How do you know it?" Yoo asked her.

Diana pursed her lips. “Because I asked her.” She raised the glass to her mouth and finished the wine in a single gulp. “I know I sound crazy, but…”

“Continue,” Whiskey ordered, interrupting her.

Diana narrowed her eyes. "Tamahime means ‘daughter of Pain’. It can also be translated as ‘born in blood’." She pushed the glass toward the center of the table. "If any of you had known Latin, you would have realized that the man who welcomed us to Scotland greeted me by calling me 'born from blood'."

“Who was that man?” Spider questioned. He had both elbows on the table and was listening to her intently.

“Basically,” she replied, “there is a very old sect that worships the Goddess I hear in my head. The man belonged to the sect."

“Like the lieutenant,” Ghost deduced.

"Exact." Diana sighed. "I know the lieutenant due to the Goddess. Apparently, she can talk to them too, but the bond isn't as strong as it is with me."

She gave a long look to Siva, who avoided returning it.

She continued, “When I was young, the Goddess chose me. She blessed me." A macabre laugh escaped her lips. "She granted me a part of her power. Don't ask me to explain what I can do because I still can't."

"You have created a shock wave," said Siva. “As if I could control the air around us.”

“Yes and no,” she replied. "I shouted. And my scream pushed you away. It's different from being able to control the air."

Whiskey ran a hand over his face, then clenched his fist and placed it on his forehead. His movement caught Diana's gaze.

“I know it seems impossible.”

If Ghost hadn't experienced it himself, he wouldn't have believed her. “Why were you chosen?”

Diana looked at him. "Because she likes me. Her words."

Disbelief was present on all their faces.

Diana smiled. “I know, crazy, right?”

“Is she the one who met you in the forest and guided you to the lake?” Whiskey asked.

Diana licked her lips and nodded. "She told me that I must learn to use my power. To do it, she created four challenges for me, or tests, call them what you prefer."

That was the reason why she had come out of the lake in such a horrible state. She had failed the challenge. Ghost tried to imagine what the "goddess" had asked her to do. Fight someone stronger than her?

“What does all this have to do with the people who are looking for you?”

Ghost thought Yoo's question was interesting.

Diana returned to contemplate the void above the table. "The UN guy… He…" she stopped, evidently agitated just by talking about him. "He wants to steal my Blessing."

"How?"

Diana cocked her head to the side, looking at Yoo with a tired expression. "By killing me and devouring my heart. But it's not that simple." She scratched the back of her hand, creating red lines on her skin. "If he wants to be able to properly absorb my Blessing he must have my consent."

“What does it mean?” Spider leaned forward.

At the same time, Siva asked, “Are you sure?”

"Yes, I'm sure. She told me so." She looked at Spider. "I don't know how to explain it well. By consent, I mean that either I willingly give him my heart or he must defeat me in a duel that I agree to do. Does it make better sense?"

“That's why he didn't kill you sooner,” Siva murmured.

Diana clicked her tongue. “Oh, he tried.” She made a sound that was a mixture of snorting and laughing. “But he failed because I didn't give in.”

She tried to blink away tears.

“The other men who are looking for me…” she continued. “I don't know much about them.”

“Did they ask you anything before we arrived?”

Diana nodded. “They were trying to get me to confess that I had non-human powers.” She rubbed her arm. "That's why they stuck knives in my legs. Or at least I think so. I don't know, honestly. But I was terrified that if I revealed what I'm able to do then they would take me to a hospital and use me for experiments." She tortured her arm. "Usually, that's how it always happens, isn't it? In films and books, I mean."

Nobody answered her.

Diana seemed to get lost in her thoughts, which were interrupted after a few minutes by Whiskey. “Where is the man who wants to kill you?”

Diana didn't meet his gaze. "Not here."

“Where,” Spider insisted, placing a fist on the table.

Diana rolled her eyes. "He's not from Earth," she said softly.

"What?" Siva opened his eyes wide, terrified.

“And he already has two Blessings,” she added. “If you tried to fight him, he would easily kill you, so no thanks.”

That was a problem. Huge fucking problem.

Ghost picked up one of the knives he always kept on him. Running his fingers, even if gloved, over its smooth, cold surface always reassured him. "Why are we here? What do you need us for?"

He met Diana's weak eyes. "Moral support?" she joked. "I don't know. The Goddess said she chose you, but she didn't go into detail."

Why would she choose simple human beings to fight a magical creature? It didn't make any sense.

Yoo stood up. Everyone watched him reach Diana. He placed a hand on her head, stroking her hair. “If she chose us herself, that means we can help you.”

“Or that we are expendable to her,” Siva said, earning dirty looks from all his teammates.

Diana scoffed. “I don't think I care about the reason, honestly,” she admitted. “I just want to get through these challenges and learn to use my power so that I can kill him myself.” She grabbed Yoo's wrist and he understood he had to move his hand away.

Gently pushing aside her chair, Diana rose to her feet. It was clear that she was tired, not only of being awake but of having that conversation.

“At twelve,” Spider said, drawing her attention to him. “Did you know he was looking for you?”

"Yes, I knew it." Diana's gaze was empty of energy as if she were a corpse. “I told my parents.” She shook her head and pointed her chin up. “If they had let me, I would have gone to him.” She smiled cruelly. “You're right: those people died because of me.”

Her eyes, darkened by guilt, fell on Spider, who was looking at her with a surprised expression.

“No,” Yoo interjected, grabbing her arm. “It's not your fault,” he said firmly. “You didn't kill them.”

Diana looked at him with half-open eyelids. “Repeat it until you start believing it.”

She released herself from his hand and turned her back to them. She lifted the hood of her sweatshirt and walked towards one of the bedrooms. "I'm sleepy," she announced.

No one stopped her from locking herself away and isolating inside the room.

It took the five men a long time to process what they had just heard. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts, almost twenty minutes passed in silence.

It was Ghost who spoke first. “I think I know who we're dealing with.”

He felt his teammates' gazes shift towards him.

"I recognized one of the men," he explained. "When I reached the factory…"

He was interrupted by Spider. “Tell us again how you got there?”

Ghost tried not to let on how annoyed he was by the interruption. "I received a message with the coordinates and when I arrived in Germany there was someone sent by Artemide to wait for me. They gave me a motorbike and I reached the factory." He looked at Spider, silently asking if that was enough. Spider said nothing and gestured for him to continue. "When I got there, I hid. After a few minutes, I noticed a van approaching. It passed the gate and I looked at the men who came out.”

“And you recognized one,” Whiskey said, urging him to get to the point.

Ghost nodded. Why did they have to continually interrupt him? “He was a lieutenant during my first years in the army,” he explained. "We had some differences. I hadn't seen him since he transferred to another section." He preferred not to go into detail and explain to them what had happened. “A few years ago, I found out that he started working for the British Secret Service.”

Whiskey cursed in Spanish and Yoo, who had sat back down, raised his hands to his face, hiding it for a few seconds.

"The secret services? For real?" Spider asked, incredulous and annoyed.

“Maybe it's not just the English,” Whiskey added, tapping the table with a finger. "The tall black man, I don't think you've seen him, but I think I have already seen him somewhere. I think he's American." And, after a breath, he added: "I could be wrong."

“So,” Yoo mused. "It's not enough that Diana is being sought by an alien, the American and English secret services are also involved?" He looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.

“They're dangerous, aren't they?” Siva asked. His arms were crossed on the table and his back hunched forward. He looked up at Ghost first.

“We were all going to die,” Spider said. “Of course, they are fucking dangerous.”

"We have to be more careful." Ghost wanted to tell Whiskey that he was saying the obvious. "Trying to throw ourselves off track and using the credit card and the help of Artemide as little as possible. Even if they manage to find the mole and eliminate them, there is a risk that another one exists."

Nobody had anything to say.

“Is there anything else we should discuss?” Whiskey asked. “Something to say?”

Silence.

Ghost struggled to make sense of everything that was happening. But he too was tired and would need time and calm to process all the information he had received in such a short time. What mattered to him was that Diana was safe and alive. They would deal with the rest later.

The group dispersed and the discussion come to a conclusion.

Chapter Text

Oscar knocked on the door of the room where Diana had disappeared. He waited for her to invite him in. Initially, since he was receiving no response, he thought she had fallen asleep and he was tempted to go in just to check. A few seconds later, the girl's voice reached him weakly: "Come in."

He entered carefully, and took his time to look around. To do what he had planned, Oscar needed her to be the only person in the room.

He saw her lying on her side, her gaze focused on the phone she was holding with one hand. "What do you want?" she asked, grumpy and annoyed by the interruption.

Oscar sat on the bed, next to her legs. He couldn't look at her face. “Do you have a second to talk?”

"It depends on what the topic is. If you want to talk about guns, no thank you."

Oscar glared at her. “Why would I want to talk to you about guns?”

"Don't ask me."

He rubbed his eyelids. “No, that's not what I want to talk about,” he said with a sigh. He glanced at her again and, seeing that she was still looking at the phone and not him, he became annoyed. “Can you put that thing away for a second? I'm trying to have a conversation."

Diana cursed under her breath. By now Oscar was learning to understand her Italian curses. She said something to do with “balls.”

Oscar waited for her to turn off the phone screen. "How do you feel?" He chose to start with a simple question, to test the mood and put her at ease.

The girl pointed her head towards him, but her gaze lingered on Oscar's hands and not on his face. She shrugged.

“Can you stand?”

Diana looked confused. "You saw me not too long ago, have you already forgotten?"

“I mean, if you can stand for a few minutes.”

"Yes, why?"

"Get up."

Oscar stood up first and held his hands out to her, inviting her to pull herself up. Reluctantly, Diana sat up. “Are you asking me to dance with you?”

"What? No."

Diana looked at his hands and then at his eyes, still confused.

“Come on,” he urged. “I promise it's nothing strange.”

The girl rolled her eyes and accepted his help. Oscar pulled her up and Diana wobbled on her legs. He took a few seconds to accept that she was capable of standing on her own, then he let her go. Diana watched him, waiting for further indications.

Oscar, still looking at her, took a step back. He scanned the room, trying to figure out how far the bed was from the closet behind him.

He knelt before her.

"What are you doing?" Diana snapped, grabbing his shoulders and trying to pull him up.

Oscar took her wrists and remained on the ground. “I shouldn't have insulted you or accused you of those deaths.” He had prepared a speech. He would tell her what he had been thinking and free himself from the weight on his chest. "It wasn't your fault. And…"

"Stand up!" she ordered, interrupting him.

"No, let me finish…"

She pulled him harder, forcing him to put the sole of his left foot on the ground. "Stop." He recognized a desperation in her tone that he couldn't understand.

Oscar frowned. "I'm trying to make it up to you. Can't you listen to me for once?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You can not. I won't let you."

The scene wasn't going as Oscar had planned. Diana pulled him again and he came back with both feet pressed to the ground. The movement seemed to take her by surprise and she fell backward, collapsing into the bed. With her hands still clinging to Oscar's shoulders, she took him with her.

To keep from falling on her, Oscar threw his hands onto the mattress, stopping them around the girl's head. He found himself on top of her.

Their faces were a short distance from each other.

"What is your problem?" he asked, crushing the sheet beneath them.

Diana let go of his shoulders and turned her head, exposing her neck. Her skin looked smooth and soft. Oscar couldn't help but look at her. He wondered what she tasted like. What would it be like to kiss her throat?

“I don't want you to apologize to me.”

"Why not?"

He couldn't understand her.

Diana shot him a quick look. Her shining eyes remained in Oscar's for just a second, and then went away again. "Because if you apologize I'll forgive you and if I forgive you then I start to like you, because I think: fuck, he apologized, he understood that he was an asshole. And that's not good."

“Why wouldn't it be good?” He was screaming. Oscar didn't want to scream.

Diana tapped his shoulder with a finger. “Because I don't want to like you.” She paused to think for a second. "I'm speaking platonically. If I like you, then we become friends and at the moment I already have too many people to worry about. I can't add any more. So, no. You won't apologize. I will continue to think that you are a man with the emotional depth of a puddle and we will move on with our lives."

Oscar had to rest his forehead on the mattress. He remained in that position for a long time. He shouldn't have gotten so close to her, because now he wasn't sure he would be able to get away. Diana's scent was intoxicating. But in an unnatural way. It felt like he was smelling a drug, the best scent he had ever smelled.

He closed his eyes and filled his nostrils with air. “You're driving me crazy.”

"Me?" Diana moved beneath him, perhaps trying to get away from him. “You drive me crazy.”

He pulled away suddenly, getting the space he needed to look at her face. "You're really…" he made a frustrated noise, unable to find the right words. "Let's find an agreement, hum?"

“No, no agreement.” Diana tightened her arms against her chest and avoided his gaze.

Oscar moved a little closer, just enough to make her feel his breath on her face. “I'm not leaving until we have a deal.”

Diana's gaze snapped to him. “That's why I don't like you,” she said. "Because you never listen and always want to win." Oscar started to object, but she covered his mouth with her hand, silencing him. "If you want us to reach an agreement you have to show me that you deserve it."

He was tempted to lick her palm. Instead, he resisted and tried to ask her with his eyes what he had to do.

“Listen to me more often, listen to my opinion,” she explained. “Don't belittle me and stop seeing me as an object.”

He grabbed her wrist, releasing his mouth. “I don't see you as an object.”

Diana raised her eyebrows, declaring with that reaction alone that she didn't believe him.

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “I don't see you as an object, Diana,” he told her in a gentler voice. "If I gave you this impression…"

His mouth was covered again. "Ah, ah. You're doing it again." Her happy smile amazed him. “You're winning me over and that's not good.”

What was he supposed to do, then?

Seeing him in such a state of confusion seemed to amuse her. Her laughter drove every thought from Oscar's head, and he found himself staring at her in a daze.

Had she always been so beautiful? He forced his eyes to observe the shape of her nose, her eyelashes long and curved, the wavy line of her lips still curled upwards.

Her hand, pressed against Oscar's lips, was soft and pleasantly warm. If he could, he would have remained in that position forever.

Oscar bent his arms, pushing himself ever so slightly closer to her. Diana watched his every move without flinching.

He had to get away from her immediately. Or he would make a terrible mistake that they wouldn't fix.

Oscar hoped she would back away. But Diana stayed still looking at him and Oscar was sure he was about to lose his mind completely. Perhaps, in addition to that strange power, she was capable of enchanting men. It was the only way he could explain why he was so attracted to her. He felt like a sailor at the mercy of a mermaid.

Diana would have killed him. And he would have thanked her.

A knock on the door was enough to break the spell. Oscar pulled back so quickly that he ended up with his back pressed against the wardrobe. As if he had been caught in the middle of a crime, he looked around in alarm, trying to find evidence to hide.

Diana used her elbows to pull herself up. "What?" Her tone was calm and betrayed no emotional conflict as if Oscar had been the only one on the edge of the cliff.

“Dinner's ready,” Yoo warned them.

Oscar raised a hand to his lips, pressing in the same place where Diana's palm had been until a few seconds earlier. He felt the ghost of her touch.

He swallowed hard, not knowing whether to be grateful to Yoo for stopping him or to hate him. Without saying anything else to the girl, he walked quickly towards the door. He left it open, sensing that she would come out shortly after him.

He tried not to meet the watchful gaze of Yoo, who was leaning across the hall to watch them exit. Oscar wondered if Yoo already knew what he was feeling.

He didn't stick around to find out.

Chapter Text

Siva still felt the burden of having healed Diana. His power had required an enormous amount of energy, forcing him to use his supplies, which were still dry. He already felt better than the previous day and only on the following day would he be able to feel at his full potential.

Sat at the table, he longed for a bed and a long night's sleep. His teammates were organizing the next day, arranging with Diana to know what time she preferred to wake up and other things that Siva didn’t want to hear. He would sit in the car and then sleep until they arrived at their destination. The rest was irrelevant.

“Diana, why don't you move to one of the rooms with the single beds?”

Siva's eyelids were moving slowly, heavy as boulders. But he knew that eating would help him feel better. So he took another bite and filled his glass with water.

"No," the girl replied.

Yoo, who had asked her the question, looked at her in surprise. “If you decide to stay in the double bed, there aren't enough beds for us.”

"I know."

Her answer caught everyone's attention, except Siva’s, who lost himself in looking at those little green dots that Earthlings called peas. In his world, there was a similar plant, but its color was bright red and its taste was more bitter.

“I want to sleep with Siva.”

His eyes widened, suddenly aware that he existed. "Huh?"

Diana was looking at him with a calm and calculating expression. “If you don't want to, you can say no.”

He started to answer, but his mouth remained open and silent.

"Why?" Spider asked, in an annoyed tone. Siva was grateful to him for voicing the same doubt he had.

The girl shrugged as if she hadn't reflected before choosing. Siva knew that this was not the case, it could not be a matter of chance or a thought devoid of logic. That wasn't how people worked. Every action and choice was based on explainable thoughts. However, the problem remained that he was incapable of understanding what was going on in Diana's mind. Maybe it was just a cultural difference. Being able to feel the rush of her blood and the contractions of her muscles wasn't helping him, unlike when he felt the movements in other men's bodies.

Siva felt the malevolent glances of his teammates on him. He didn't blame their distrust.

He would not have allowed himself to be alone with her if he could help it. “Are you sure you want me?”

He met her determined eyes, over the rim of the glass she had brought to her mouth to drink. “Would you rather sleep with someone else?”

Siva felt the atmosphere around the table tense. Why was Diana insisting? Didn't she feel the emotions of the other men? He shook his head and closed his eyes, too tired to argue. "No, it's okay."

The table went silent again. Siva expected objections to come, for the others to say that Diana couldn't be alone with one of them, especially him. He hurried to eat, wanting to avoid that discussion.

A few hours later, he was then surprised to find himself alone in the same room as his prey.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs were shaking with anxiety. He rested his elbows on his thighs and raised his hands to his chin, thus urging his entire body to follow the will of his legs.

Diana was behind him, standing while she changed. She put her things away in the small room she had decided to make hers. He glanced over his shoulder at her, quickly withdrawing when she seemed to notice.

He heard her breathe deeply and braced himself for whatever was coming. "I'll go to the bathroom and then go to bed. If you want to stay awake, please use the light bulb on your bedside table or go elsewhere."

He looked at her again. Did she really just want to sleep with him? Why? It didn't make any sense.

Their mere proximity was putting her in danger. Siva could have killed her.

He bit his tongue, hating himself for falling into that vicious circle again. He wouldn't have killed her, especially not after discovering that without her consent he wouldn't have been able to take the Blessing from her.

Siva had not yet understood what Diana had explained to them. His brother had never told him about it and his father had killed a blessed woman many centuries before Siva was conceived. Every day spent on that planet reminded Siva that he still knew nothing about the universe and how it worked. He was an insect compared to a mountain.

Diana left the room as she had said and returned only ten minutes later, finding Siva in the same position in which she had left him.

Since Siva was ready to go to sleep, but he waited until he heard her sit down to turn off the main light and lie down.

His back was turned to her, but his senses made up for the lack of sight. He continued to perceive Diana's every little movement and sound.

When she lay down, Siva closed his eyes, accepting that nothing would happen.

“Is it true that you know how to use magic?”

He blinked, looking at the darkness that had fallen on the room. "Yes."

“Why can you do it?”

It was a question he had never heard. "I inherited this power from my father and he from my grandfather."

“So you weren't blessed?”

He turned to her, finding Diana looking at him curiously. “Not like you.” Sensing that she would not be satisfied with that answer, he added, "My grandfather received his powers from Siva, god of destruction and creation."

“If I ate your heart could I take your powers?” He detected a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Do you want to eat my heart?”

"Why not? It looks like a great meal, light and tasty.”

Siva laughed. “You're welcome to try.”

“I have your consent, then?”

He smiled at her, knowing that she wouldn't be able to see him in the dark. “Yes, you have my consent.”

Diana shifted, getting onto her back. The bed was big enough to fit both of them and leave a few inches of space between them. It would have been easy for him to reach out and touch her.

“Thank you,” she said, and Siva realized that she wasn't referring to what they were talking about. Diana was thanking him for saving her life. He, who had sworn that he would kill her.

"Diana." Was this the first time he called her name out loud?

She rested her cheek on the pillow to look at him and let out a hum to let him know she was listening.

“If I asked you to give me your heart, would you do it?”

Siva's heart jumped in fear. That question was stupid, created by a tired and weak mind. It could have revealed the real reason he was there.

"I'm not sure." Siva was taken aback by her honest and sensitive tone. The girl's gaze returned to the ceiling and she clasped her hands on her chest, rubbing them together. "Part of me wants to say yes, to tell you to just take it and run. Especially if you say it's for a good cause (but only if it's one that I consider such). At least that would be the end of it all. But…"

Siva felt her emotions overwhelming her. "But."

Diana giggled. A forced sound, which was trying to hide how she really felt. "But, there is another part of me that is still attached to life. And this part is stronger."

Siva breathed, happy to have heard that. "So, the answer is no. You will fight to live."

The silence lasted a long time between them. Siva wondered if she had fallen asleep in the seconds it took him to respond.

“Yes, I want to fight.”

He stood on his side so he could get a better look at her. Since his eyes had become accustomed to the pitch darkness, Siva could see the profile of Diana's face. He put one arm under the pillow and reached out with the other, touching her chest, right over her heart.

“Promise me you'll keep it safe.”

Diana smiled at him. "All right. Do you promise that you will do the same with yours?”

He felt like laughing. “Mine isn't easy to take.”

"Pff."

Siva leaned towards her. “I'm not joking,” he said, his tone still light. “It doesn't seem like it, but I'm strong and capable.”

“Okay, Mr. Blood Mage.”

Siva made a disgusted noise. "Haven't you found a better nickname?"

Diana laughed, Siva filled his ears and chest with that sound. “I'm sleepy, I can think of a better nickname tomorrow morning.”

“I demand it.”

“Oh, wow, you demand it?”

“You gave everyone else nicknames too,” he reminded her.

"Not to everyone," she specified. “I haven't found the right one for Yoo yet.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

"Some, but I can't tell you anything or I'll ruin the surprise."

“I will wait anxiously for the appropriate time to hear it,” he said, closing his eyes. “Don't make me wait too long.”

Diana hit the mattress with the back of her hand. “You are all so impatient!” she complained. "Creativity cannot be controlled, did you know that?"

Siva would have gladly fallen asleep with the sound of her voice in the background. He didn't have the strength to reply and only released a low, guttural murmur.

"Goodnight" was the last word he heard, and then he fell into the abyss of sleep.

Chapter Text

It had become apparent to Pedro that Diana was ignoring and avoiding him.

That morning at the table, he had asked her what she wanted to eat and she had turned away to talk to Yoo. When they left, he had offered to open the door for her, but instead of getting inside the car, she had took a step back and reached for the door on the other side. Pedro had slammed it behind him with far too much aggression, earning dirty looks from his teammates.

Her attitude had not changed even after arriving at the lake. Pedro had warned her that, this time, she would not go alone. And she had responded with a brusque: "Do whatever you want."

Pedro couldn't understand why she was behaving that way. He had been willing to die for her, so why was Diana acting as if she hated him? Shouldn't the opposite have happened? Perhaps she blamed him for not arriving sooner and for the injuries she had suffered. Every time Pedro remembered her bloody and destroyed body, he felt like vomiting, and his legs became weak.

To choose which of them would stay behind to check their backpacks and clothes, they drew lots to avoid unnecessary arguments. Yoo looked at their hands with disappointment, realizing that he had lost. The little girl patted his shoulder in an understanding gesture. “We'll give you a report when we're back.”

Her new “friendly” relationship with Yoo and the others only made Pedro feel worse. The little girl was opening up and softening even to Spider.

“Let's hurry,” he ordered, giving her a stern look. “It's not safe to stay out in the open for too long.”

Diana rolled her eyes and walked past him. She chose a tree to lean on and began to take off her clothes except for the t-shirt and underwear. Pedro forced himself to reach the furthest point from her. He tried not to stare at her, but it was nearly impossible when she occupied his thoughts constantly. He had to resolve that tension between them before he lost control.

They entered the waters of the lake together, allowing Diana to stay a few steps ahead to guide them. “It's not far,” she began, scanning the icy surface. "We have to hold our breath for a minute. We can do it."

“I'm not so sure we can,” Spider commented. He was clenching his fists and shivering from the cold.

Pedro looked away, not noticing the fact that he and his teammates were wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. From Diana's flushed cheeks, she was trying not to notice it either.

“You can wait with Yoo if you’re afraid, Spidey,” she reminded him, giving him an amused look.

“I'm not staying behind,” he replied, advancing towards her.

Diana ran forward, trying to get away from him before he played any tricks on her.

With uncertain steps, because he didn't know which stones to step on, Pedro followed them. They continued until the waters reached Diana's shoulders, and she turned to them to see if they were ready to dive. "Remember: you don't have to fight. Let yourself go and be transported away."

"What does it mean?" he asked.

Diana looked away from Pedro but was unable to hide a smirk.

Although he was confused and wanted more explanations, Pedro filled his lungs with air and dived. Diana began to swim towards the center of the lake, lower and lower. Pedro, not being used to keeping his eyes open underwater, did his best not to close them, ignoring the stinging pain.

Having them opened allowed him to observe the stony seabed. The fish around them were small, and as soon as the five of them got too close, they ran away. They passed a large, jutting stone, which Diana used to propel herself forward. Pedro and the others, not knowing if it was an essential step, imitated her. Pedro felt the slimy surface of the stone on the soles of his feet and almost gasped out.

The little girl turned to them, making sure they were following. She continued deeper and deeper. Her hair was floating around her head, creating a halo as cold and dull as the rest of the lake.

Pedro continued swimming, ignoring the excruciating instinct to come up and breathe.

Where were they going? Was the test she was supposed to do really at the bottom of the lake? It couldn't be possible. Maybe Diana was trying to kill them or make them faint so she could escape again. No, that wouldn't have made sense. She had almost died protecting them. She wouldn't leave again.

He had to trust her.

He forced his muscles to continue pushing, even at the cost of losing consciousness. Diana turned to look at them, stopped, and started to float. She smiled, nearly losing her breath held in her mouth. The others also halted, not understanding what was happening.

Suddenly, a powerful current enveloped all five of them, kidnapping and forcing them to move. Pedro closed his eyes and, remembering what Diana had told them, did not fight. He allowed the current to guide him where he wanted.

When he opened his eyelids again, his mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. They were crossing the lake at an impossible speed. Diana was in the lead, her body elongated and narrow, making her look like a bullet.

They crossed the bottom of the lake, passing by the fish that inhabited it. Pedro half expected to see a sea monster similar to the one in Lochness appear. The current descended again and Pedro squeezed his eyelids shut, realizing that they were about to slip into a hole in the ground. He hated caves and underwater places. Since he was a child, he had always felt a visceral fear of all those films in which the protagonists found themselves in danger underwater. The very idea was terrifying. It made him feel like he was about to faint. Having the current to carry him allowed Pedro to empty his mind and preserve any energy.

The current soon left them without any warnings. Pedro looked around, confused and on the verge of panicking. He saw the bodies of his teammates rising towards the surface and imitated them. He used all the strength he had left.

As soon as he felt the air hit his face, he opened his mouth, gasping in desperation.

He heard the heavy breathing of his teammates next to him. He examined them to make sure they were all present and alive. Diana was still smiling. “Fun, right?”

"No," Pedro said, moving his gaze to study the cave in which they found themselves. The curved ceiling was high, so much so that Pedro wondered how such a cave could be found under the lake. It almost felt like he was inside a structure built into the rock.

A blue light was shining around them, emanating from a hundred, probably many more, narrow oblong stones that were coming out of the rock face.

“I forget that you're old and incapable of having fun,” she insulted him in an annoyed tone.

Pedro shot her a warning look. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Diana's bad temper.

Diana rolled her eyes again and turned away. She began to swim towards the shore, crossing the blue water with long strokes; her mercenaries stalked her.

Pedro hauled himself out of the water with difficulty, but more than happy to no longer have to float. He sat for a few minutes, his feet still soaking. Behind him, he heard his teammates and the little girl moving. He listened to them absently, concentrating on regaining control of his still-agitated body.

“So, you came here?” Spider asked. "To do what?"

“You'll see,” she replied. From her normal movements, she seemed calm and energetic, unlike Pedro who already felt exhausted. "As soon as you recover, let's move on."

Pedro forced himself to stand up. His legs trembled with tiredness. Ignoring them, he joined the others. Even they, except Diana, seemed overwhelmed by what they had just done. Diana examined them one by one, then, having probably decided that they were ready, she approached the wall of the cave. She placed a hand on the rock and waited, looking up.

The floor beneath their feet shook and Pedro cursed loudly, spreading his hands to steady himself.

"Everything is fine!" Diana shouted to reassure them.

When the ground settled, Pedro looked up. He found that the wall where Diana had placed her hand had opened, revealing a long, dark corridor.

"Let's go." She advanced first, and the others ran towards her to prevent her from crossing the thick darkness alone.

They took a few steps forward, groping in the dark. Then, a disruptive light blinded them. Pedro covered his eyes, whispering that he was too old to go through all that stress. He adapted to the new light, white and bright, Pedro could not tell where it had come from. It seemed almost to emanate from the walls themselves. He discovered before him a huge room carved into the rock.

It couldn't be real. He was certain.

The room was not empty. In front of them. there was a long space, full of strange rock formations that looked like tools for torturing people.

Pedro took a step forward, trying to understand what he was looking at. He thought he saw four sections. One, the closest one, had rocks protruding from the ground. They were as tall, straight, and as wide as a person, but with about ten stone spikes protruding outward. The next section had wires hanging from the ceiling, motionless. At the end of these threads, there were balls with sharp thorns. The last two sections seemed empty, although he was too far away to tell for sure.

"What…?" he whispered, unable to understand what he was seeing.

"Do you know when in movies or books there is a scene or montage in which the protagonist trains?" Diana asked, staring at the strange sections with a serious expression. “Well, we're at that point in the story.”

“Is this what you have to do?” Siva asked, looking around the cave with disgust.

Diana shrugged. “I didn't choose it,” she defended herself. “I was just ordered to come here and make it to the other side.”

“How far did you manage to get?” Ghost approached the first section, looking at each bump carefully. His balaclava was soaked and it fit him perfectly, highlighting every line of his face and hair.

"I can't get past the second one," she explained, lolling on her feet. "I know it seems easy, but it's not. Initially, seeing that the clubs didn't reach down, I lay on the ground and thought about crawling to the next part. Suddenly, big, hard thorns emerged from the floor and hit me."

Pedro guessed that the huge hematoma they had found on her stomach must have occurred at that moment.

Ghost advanced further, crossing an invisible line, which activated, unbeknownst to them, a mechanism. The rock spikes retreated, returning to the ground with a thunderous noise that dispersed into an echo.

"Step back," the little girl ordered, eyeing Ghost and the missing section curiously.

Ghost obeyed and the rocks reformed.

"I have to go alone," she concluded. “It was obvious, but it's always better to have confirmation.” She turned to them. Pedro's gaze fell for a second on her protruding breasts, which the wet t-shirt was emphasizing. He looked back at her face. “Wait here and watch me embarrass myself.”

Siva took a step towards her, stopping her before she began. "Be careful," he said. “If something were to happen to you, I don't know if I'll be able to heal you. I used too much energy and..."

Raising a hand, Diana interrupted him. "I can do it." In a low voice and in Italian, she said to herself: "It's not true, but I have to believe it."

She faced the challenge she was given. Pedro studied her: her legs were apart and straight, stiff like the rest of her body; her clenched fists were showing how agitated she was, and her contracted shoulders were proof that she wasn't used to dealing with a fight like that. Before giving her any suggestions, Pedro chose to wait and observe.

Diana whispered a few words of encouragement to herself and left.

As soon as her feet crossed the invisible line, that separated the normal floor of the cave from that of the first section, the rocks began to move, causing even those strange and hard-looking limbs to twirl.

Pedro finally understood how she had ended up covered in bruises.

The rocks seemed to hurtle towards her in a senseless order. Cursing, Diana struggled to avoid their blows; her movements were awkward, slow, and wrong.

With each blow received, Pedro held his breath as if he had felt them on his own body.

Diana didn't even make it halfway through the first section. Ghost advanced until he stepped over the line and the rocks disappeared again.

Diana crouched on the ground and gasped in pain. Pedro and the others ran towards her, reaching out worriedly to see what condition she was in.

"I am fine!" she screamed, walking away from them with a devastated expression.

"Show me," Siva ordered, holding out his arms in an offering of help.

Diana, one hand pressed around her waist, stepped back again. "Don't come closer!" she barked. "I didn't tell you to move!"

“You were getting tortured!” Oscar blurted out, giving voice to all of them. "What should we have done? Let them destroy you?”

Diana leaned forward. "Yes! It's what I have to do." She staggered away from them, moving without sense or purpose.

Worry got the better of Pedro, who reached out to stop her. “That's enough for now, Diana,” he told her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Sit down and rest for a moment. Siva can help you feel better."

“No,” she spat, slapping his hand away. Her shining eyes looked at him with resentment. "That's why I didn't want you here. Because all you do is get in my way. Go away and leave me the fuck alone!"

Pedro clenched his fists. “Diana,” he tried to sound calm and understanding. “You're doing something wrong. If you continue like this it will all be useless."

“What the fuck do you know?” she snapped, coming closer and stopping a step away from him.

Pedro looked at her from above. He refrained from telling her the old I'm older so I know story, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere. “It's obvious to everyone that you're being stubborn.”

“If the Goddess has created this challenge for you, it means that you can finish it,” Siva interjected, stopping behind her. “But I also think you're doing something wrong with the way you approach it.”

“Fuck you,” the little girl whispered, moving away from them. She trudged to the front of the room. “Let me try again.”

The four men followed her. As soon as they were all out of the first section, the rocks began to lean upwards again.

“If you fail a second time, we'll bring you back to the surface,” Ghost warned, looking straight into her eyes.

Diana cursed in Italian, insulting him with phrases that Ghost seemed to understand even without knowing the language used against him.

The little girl's attention returned to the path she had to complete. She took a deep breath to calm her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly. She took the first step into the section and the rocks moved toward her, rushing to hit her.

Diana began to move, trusting her instincts, which, again, failed her. The blows became more frequent and her curses louder. Everything was frenetic, until Diana leaned forward and released an animalistic scream.

No matter how many times he had now seen her use her power, Pedro froze in fear. The shock wave swept away the rocks. The farthest ones stopped moving. For a moment, Pedro thought Diana had figured out how to pass the test. When the rocks fell back into the ground, he knew he had been wrong.

Diana collapsed, kneeling and pressing her forehead to the rock floor.

Pedro wanted to reach out, console, and protect her, yet his body hesitated, knowing that she would chase him away.

He only moved when he realized she was crying.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” he tried, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Everything is fine." He rubbed her back, wanting to comfort her.

Diana slapped him away. Her eyes filled with fury and shame, Pedro realized she wouldn't let him help her. Diana wasn't crying out of sadness, but out of frustration at continuing to fail. He knew how she was feeling.

Once upon a time, when Pedro was still at the beginning of his career, he had found it very difficult to integrate among his peers. It had been months before he learned how to hit a target accurately.

He tried to remember what had helped him overcome those moments of despair. At that time, due to the environment he found himself in, he had only been able to isolate himself and continue training.

Both options he could not grant to Diana, who was struggling to get up.

“Again,” she said, limping away from him.

Pedro watched as bruises formed on her bare arms. It shouldn't have been possible. Bruises, on a normal body, took a few hours to create. He guessed it had to do with the Blessing. Perhaps, Diana's body could speed up its changes, thus allowing for faster healing.

How long could she resist?

If she continued down that path, she would destroy herself. Pedro would see her in that state again. And he wasn't sure he was capable of it.

"No," he sanctioned.

"No, what?" she snapped. Pedro braced himself for the cruel words that were about to come his way. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”

Diana advanced on limp legs, each step a pain that flashed across her face.

“Diana, stop,” Siva begged, taking her arm.

She didn't allow herself to be arrested. She reached Pedro, facing him. “I don't think you understand how this job works,” she said through gritted teeth. Pedro remained impassive, allowing her to vent the emotions she was feeling. If she needed to insult and belittle him to calm down, she was free to do so. Pedro was strong enough to take everything she had to offer. After she protected him, a part of him thought he owed it to her. "I make the rules here. And if I tell you to step aside, you get the fuck out."

"Whiskey's right," Spider interjected, trying to come between them. Neither of them moved. "We'll be back tomorrow. We'll take the rest of the day to think and find a tactic together."

"Yes," said Siva. “It's not a bad idea.” He gripped Diana tighter, managing to pull her back. “Let me see your wounds.”

“Leave me alone,” she ordered, but with less force than before. Pedro understood that her energy was already running out. "I have to do it. I…" Her breathing was panting, unable to give her the air she needed.

Ghost grabbed her other arm. “You're no use to anyone when you're dead,” he told her, sharp and cruel as only he could be.

Diana shot him a hurt look, full of tears she hadn't yet shed. "You don't understand."

"I don't want to understand," he replied, moving closer to her. "Do you want to complete the challenge?" Diana moved her head weakly. "The only way to win is to train and prepare properly. You can't think about jumping in head first without thinking."

"It's suicide," Spider pointed out, finally managing to place himself between her and Pedro, who could no longer see her.

Diana let out a heavy breath. "I… I need to…"

Pedro walked past Spider, looking back at her exhausted, flushed face. "You need to rest."

Diana clicked her tongue. "Your opinion is the last one I care to hear."

Clenching his fists, Pedro felt his control becoming more fragile. He forced himself to shut up, fearing that he would say something terrible that he wouldn't be able to take back.

“Stop being such a child, Diana,” Spider scolded her, giving her a disappointed look, which she returned with a fiery one.

“I should have let you all die.”

Ghost grabbed her neck and pushed her away from them, causing her to fall to the ground. Diana collapsed, hitting the rocky floor with her butt. From her crazy smile, they all knew she had finally gotten the reaction she wanted. “Do we want to do this, Ghosty?” she asked flippantly.

Ghost advanced on her, towering over her weak and broken form. "It would be like picking on a sick person on her deathbed."

Diana's fake laughter echoed through the empty cave. “I'm stronger than you, asshole.” Although her body was begging her to stop and rest, Diana got to her feet. The fury in her face seemed to belong to someone else, a soldier ready to go to war.

"What is your problem?" Spider interjected, advancing towards them to stop what was obviously a mistake.

“You're my problem,” she spat. "You are a burden. I don't need you to kill Him. I can do it on my own."

There was more beneath the surface, something she wasn't telling.

“Then why did the Goddess choose us?” Siva shouted, spreading his arms wide.

That seemed to catch Diana off guard. Her eyes trembled. “Because she's a bitch who likes to see me suffer.”

“What does that have to do with what we're saying?” Spider asked, unable to follow her flow of thoughts.

“It is connected to it.”

Truth struck Pedro like a lightning. “You're afraid you'll see us die.”

He saw the answer on her face.

Diana turned pale. “No,” she lied. She backed away. Her smile vanished. “I don't give a shit about you.”

Her anger, her cruel words were nothing more than an attempt to push them away. If she had hated them and if she had made herself hated, she would not have suffered from their deaths. Maybe she would have felt the weight of it anyway, she would also have blamed herself, but she wouldn't have suffered.

"What are you talking about?" Spider asked, looking at him with a confused expression.

Pedro took a step forward, keeping his gaze solid on the girl, who didn't dare to return it. “You think your Goddess chose us because we are expendable pawns. Not as precious as you" he explained, continuing to walk. “And knowing that we could die for you is terrifying.”

A few tears escaped her red eyes. “Am I not right?” She rubbed her nose irritated. "Siva was chosen because of his power. But you?" She pointed to Pedro and the other two. "You are cannon fodder." She shook her head. Nobody told her she was wrong. On the contrary, Pedro thought she was right. “And I'm tired, okay?”

She put her hands in her hair, pulling as if she wanted to tear it out.

“Don't…” her voice broke. “Even though I hate you, I don't want you to die.”

If she really hated them, she wouldn't have started crying. Pedro closed his eyes, ignoring, as best he could, the strange warmth he was feeling in his chest.

"They will not die," said Siva. His determination was the same one he had when Diana had been in danger. “You and I will make sure of it.”

Diana looked at him with watery eyes. “What if… what if I'm not strong enough?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

In front of them, they had a little girl, who had been forced to grow up too quickly. A weight had fallen on her shoulders that she shouldn't have felt.

“You have to become stronger.” Ghost's tone was harsh, uncompromising. “But not like this.”

Diana looked down and shrugged at him, looking decades smaller. "I know."

It wasn't in her nature to self-destruct. It was simply easier, a quick choice.

Pedro understood how she was feeling.

At her age, after the death of his parents, he had found himself in a similar situation. He too had found comfort in pain and acts of self-harm.

Perhaps the Goddess, if she was real, had chosen him for that reason. Having gone through similar experiences, Pedro could help her not have them. He would allow her to regain the normality that she so longed for. He would help her escape the years of darkness he had experienced.

He passed her, heading towards the exit of that room. “Can you swim to the surface?”

Diana, holding her left arm, nodded. “I'm not feeling that bad, old man.”

Pedro frowned, confused by that nickname. Was this a sign that the worst was over, or should he read it as if nothing had changed?

He understood the answer when they returned to the surface. Pedro offered her assistance on at least three occasions and she continued to refuse to accept his help. But when Yoo offered to do the same, she let him.

The worst, a direct clash between her and everyone else, could have been avoided, but she remained, for reasons he didn't understand, offended. Maybe she didn't like that he had revealed the strange mysteries of her mind in front of everyone.

Sitting next to Yoo behind the wheel, Pedro continued to look at her through the rearview mirror. As always, she had brought her legs to her chest, while she listened to the music with a thoughtful gaze focused outside.

In the background, Spider and Siva told Yoo what they had seen. Pedro was unable to intervene, his mind also occupied with her.

They couldn't continue like this. He had to talk to her. Alone.

They returned to the apartment in the late afternoon. Siva went to sleep in one of the rooms with only one bed, because healing Diana again had destroyed him. No one objected and Yoo promised they would wake him up for dinner.

Sitting around the kitchen table, they tried to propose strategies that Diana could implement. She didn't like any. They couldn't take a week to train her because they also had three other challenges to complete and they had little time available.

“What will happen in two months?” Ghost asked her. He was sitting across the table from Diana, his legs spread and his arms crossed.

Diana licked her dry lips. "Nothing."

Why did she persist in lying? By now they knew that she was the Tamahime, of the Goddess and of the man who was looking for her.

“Diana,” Yoo scolded.

The girl rolled her eyes and hugged her legs. “He will come here.”

Pedro felt his skin crawl. "How do you know it?"

“I just know,” she said sharply. She put her feet on the ground and glared at him. "Do you always have to argue?" Without another word, she pushed her chair aside and walked away.

Pedro watched her move towards the corridors that led to the rooms and the bathroom.

“You have to talk to her,” Yoo ordered, avoiding looking at his face. “Whatever happened between you, you need to resolve it.”

Pedro found his insinuation annoying. "Nothing happened," he concluded.

Because it was the truth: nothing had happened. Since she had run away he had never been able to speak to her alone. How could he have done anything?

Diana's behavior had changed after he tried to sacrifice himself for her.

Yoo looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Pedro didn't care about his skepticism. He cursed in Spanish and stood up. He followed his girl's trail, managing to understand that she had entered the bathroom, which was at the end of the corridor.

He knocked. He knew that entering without warning would make the atmosphere between them more tense.

"Whiskey, leave me alone!"

He frowned, surprised that she knew it was him. “I just want to talk.”

"And I don't."

Pedro took a breath, telling himself to stay calm.

Bracing himself for the scene that was to come, he entered. Diana was on the other side of the room, in front of the toilet she must have just finished using.

She made a sound of surprise. She hadn't expected him to come in.

She quickly and with clumsy fingers tied the lace of her pants and walked towards him. "What the fuck is your problem? Couldn't you have waited five minutes?"

She stopped in front of him, leaning her neck back to get a better look at his face.

“You should have locked the door,” he teased, knowing it would make her angry.

“I'll start doing it!”

She pushed past him to try to get out of the bathroom.

Pedro stopped her. He hit the door with one hand, closing it. He looked at the girl's back, who was trapped between him and the door. "Let's talk."

Diana turned to face him, pressing her sides to her door to put some space between them. “I have nothing to tell you.” She crossed her arms over her chest and avoided his gaze.

Pedro brought his hand down until it rested on the doorknob. He turned it, making sure it was closed, and then lowered his hand onto the latch.

"What are you doing?" she asked, suddenly agitated.

“I'm locking the door so no one can disturb me,” he explained, in a condescending tone.

The girl's eyes found his. "What do you want?"

Pedro took a step forward and Diana tried to press herself further against the door. “Why are you acting like this?”

Pedro rested an arm on the door, just a few centimeters from Diana's head.

"What do you mean?"

Pedro wanted to drink away her embarrassment. He would never get tired of it.

“You already know.”

Diana closed her eyes. He took the opportunity to let his gaze slide over the features of her beautiful face. “I'm still mad at you, okay?”

Pedro parted his lips, confusion evident on his face.

Diana seemed annoyed by his inability to understand her. "Just let me go and think about it, eh? Then, come back when you understand why I'm angry." She placed a hand on the doorknob to turn it. Pedro grabbed her wrist.

“We won't get out of here until we reach a ceasefire.”

Diana cursed under her breath, insulting him for being stupid.

“I don't read your mind, kid,” he said, losing patience.

"What do I have to do to make you understand? A drawing?" She hit him in the chest, trying to push him away.

Pedro didn't step back. He stared at her, insisting.

Diana huffed, frustrated with him. “You can't, never, do it again,” she said, and her eyes brightened. “I don't care if it's your job or anything.”

Pedro lowered his head, realizing that one way or another they were going back there again. "If you think I'll apologize for trying to save you, you're wrong," he stated. “I will do it again if necessary.”

Her lower lip trembled. "Why?"

Pedro could have lied. Tell her it was just his job. “Because you're worth it.”

Diana's face opened in surprise, not joyful, but pained. Knowing that he cared even a little about her seemed to break her.

Hadn't she realized it before? Why was she surprised that he didn't want to hurt her?

Pedro wanted to chase away her pain.

He lowered himself onto her. He grabbed her throat before she could escape.

Their lips met gently. A kiss without passion, but urgent.

He pulled away immediately, searching for her eyes. Diana was staring at him with a surprised expression. She let out the breath.

Pedro gave her a few seconds to push him away. It didn't happen.

And he came back to her.

This time his lips sought hers with insistence and more force. Diana grabbed onto his shirt and stood on her toes, allowing him to work less hard.

Pedro forced her lips to part, introducing himself to get to know her better.

It was immediately obvious that she was inexperienced. She moved awkwardly, following what he did. Having confirmation of her inexperience made him feel thirstier.

He kissed her passionately, destroying every restraint he had put up to protect them both.

Using the hand he was holding her neck with, he placed her face the way he wanted, finding a position that allowed him to devour her better. At the same time, he used his other hand to cup her hip. He slipped his fingers under her shirt.

Without realizing it, he squeezed her throat. Diana moaned into their joined mouths and Pedro was sure he wouldn't be able to stop.

He wanted her.

He wanted to have her in every way.

Even if it meant ruining everything.

He would have taken her against that same door.

He pressed his body against her, making her feel how much he wanted her. She must have known how much he had waited for this moment. In the shower, he had thought about her too many times.

Without breaking the kiss, he moved both hands to her thighs. He pulled away from her only to say, “Put your legs up, sweetheart.”

To his pleasant surprise, Diana obeyed. No longer having to bend down, Pedro could straighten up and press every part of his body against her.

He felt his erection become painful. He had to take care of it. Rubbing against her wasn't enough. His hips moved without him being able to control them, pushing to meet hers.

It wasn't enough.

He allowed her to catch her breath, deciding to move to kiss her neck. Pedro knew he couldn't leave traces of that crime. He kept himself from giving her a hickey or biting her with all his might. He had never felt, as much as that moment, the overwhelming desire to mark someone.

Diana was as sweet and soft as he had expected.

He felt her tremble in his arms. He looked up to meet her shining eyes.

Worried that he had hurt her or scared her, he cupped her face. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Diana nodded her head more times than necessary. Her eyes seemed to admire him, amazed by what they were seeing.

He rubbed her lower lip, enjoying how swollen and red it was. “Why are you crying, then?”

Diana parted her lips. Pedro felt her breath hitch.

Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door.

Pedro looked up, ready to kill whoever was back there. Diana, however, stiffened. "What?" he snapped.

“Everything okay in there?” Spider asked. "You've been gone for a while."

Pedro looked pleased at the disaster of a girl in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to talk.

“Yes,” she said hoarsely.

Pedro leaned close to her ear. He whispered: "You're a good girl, you know that? The best girl I've ever had."

He saw the skin on her neck crawl and when he looked back at her face, she was blushing, her mouth wide open and no sound coming out.

If he had put his hand in her pants, would he have found her wet?

Just thinking about it drove him crazy. He slammed his fist on the door behind her. “Five more minutes,” he told Oscar, hoping he would leave. “We were in the middle of an argument.”

Five minutes wouldn't have been enough for what he wanted to do to her.

Chapter Text

Diana didn't like him.

He was old, pretentious, arrogant, and all the other adjectives that weren't coming to her mind at that moment (for obvious reasons). And not to forget that the difference between their ages was noticeable.

Besides, he wasn't that attractive. Sure, sometimes she had let her gaze slide over his muscular figure, and other times she had found herself wondering what was underneath those layers of clothes, but she had never wanted certain thoughts to become reality.

Because of the hand that Whiskey had brought back to her throat, Diana had no way of escaping. And she was too tired to even try. She just wanted to sleep and pretend she didn't exist for a few hours. But it was impossible to do that when he was still kissing her.

Her hips moved instinctively, seeking a friction that Diana didn't even know she wanted. When she felt the zipper of his trousers press against her pubis, Diana tried to hold back a moan. She ended up letting out a strangled noise that seemed to please the man who was holding her off the ground.

She saw him smile and she gripped his shirt tighter, bringing his lips back to hers. She bit his lower lip, imitating something he had done earlier. She saw only the whites of his eyes and felt him press against her throat.

Diana's mind was clouded. That was why she was allowing him to be so close to her. There was no other reason.

Whiskey moved on to kissing and licking her neck; Diana hoped he wouldn't bite her. She didn't want to go out there and show everyone what had happened.

With his free hand, Whiskey ran his fingers between Diana's legs, pressing on a sensitive spot that filled her with shivers. “I don't…” she put her hand to her mouth, feeling a different sound threatening to come out of her throat.

Whiskey didn't stop touching her, forcing the fabric of Diana's pants to rub against her center. Her head lightened as if all her energy was concentrated between her legs.

Whiskey's lips trailed up her neck, finding her right lobe, which he bit lightly. A pressure that forced the tears to leave Diana's eyes. She held on to him, trying not to fall.

“You're so good, babygirl, keep being quiet for me.”

He would drive her crazy.

Diana whimpered, finding the experience of him touching her unfair. They had to stop or she would melt, granting him whatever he wanted.

Gathering what little energy she had in her hands, she tried to push him away. Whiskey's mouth left Diana's neck only to seek out her lips. She let him, breaking the kiss rather quickly.

Whiskey froze. His dark eyes watched her with concern.

"I was..." her voice was hoarse, broken. “I was being serious.”

Whiskey's expression softened. "Me too."

“Don't make me save your ass again,” she added, staring behind his back because looking into his eyes when he was so close was impossible.

One corner of Whiskey's lips quirked up into a smile. “I'll make sure it will never happen again.”

He seemed sincere.

Thinking the conversation was over and not yet tired of her, Whiskey rushed to kiss her again. Diana forced herself to push him away, even though a part of her wanted to continue feeling his lips on hers. "We have to go out or the others…"

Whiskey moved to kiss her throat, which he stopped holding with his hand. He began to move his hands down Diana's torso, leaving behind more shivers that forced her to bite her lips.

Her panties were sticky and slimy.

"The others what?" he urged her to continue.

Talking was difficult. “They'll understand.”

Whiskey looked up at her. “They will understand... what?”

Diana stared at him confused, not understanding what his intentions were. "They will understand what…"

He didn't let her finish. “They will only understand that we have solved the issue we had.” He caressed her thigh, but his tone had hardened. "Because nothing happened here, Diana. We just talked."

It annoyed her. She couldn't even explain why. But it bothered her a lot.

She looked away. Whiskey seemed to pick up on her change in mood. He ran both hands over her body, ending up cupping her face between his fingers. “Hey, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Diana obeyed.

“I'm not saying nothing really happened,” he clarified.

“And what are you trying to say?”

“That what we're doing stays here.”

Diana clicked her tongue. "Of course, it's staying here."

Whiskey frowned at her and stared in silence, waiting for her to say more.

"It was a mistake," she was quick to say. "That won't happen again."

Whiskey let go of her face and Diana realized she had been too direct. Whiskey grabbed her hips and pulled away from her, allowing her to put her feet back on the ground. "As you wish." His tone was icy. “After all, we are just pawns who must be at your command.”

His angry look filled her with shivers. Diana brought her hands to her chest and pressed herself against the door. "What?" she murmured. "That's not what I meant."

Even though she didn't like him, she hated seeing that look on his face: cold, detached, and disappointed. Couldn't they go back to what was happening just a moment ago?

Whiskey caressed her cheek, filling his palm with her face. An attempt to ease the rising tension that eased the lump in Diana's throat.

“Okay,” he said, closing the matter.

But it wasn't true. It wasn't okay.

Diana didn't know how to fix it. And, she had been honest. Their kiss had been a mistake. Even if she were to like him or one of the others, she couldn't afford any distractions. At stake was not only her life but that of millions of people. If that man had managed to obtain her heart, he would have had enormous power in his hands, which would have allowed him to do anything he wanted.

Knowing that he had not hesitated to take hundreds of innocent lives, Diana thought there might have been even greater suffering in his plans. How many other worlds could he have affected with her power?

She didn't want other people, girls, to end up like her.

When Diana entered the cave under the lake for the first time, the Goddess promised her that she would reveal something about the man Diana had to fight. Information that would allow Diana to understand him better.

“Stop ignoring me,” Whiskey said, bringing her mind back to the present. “Stop treating me like I bother you.”

Diana rolled her eyes. Whiskey placed a hand on the door behind her, leaning down to be closer.

“Stop disrespecting me.”

“I'm not disrespecting you,” she objected. Whiskey didn't seem to agree. "I'm just expressing my dissent and annoyance. It's different."

Whiskey smiled, this time without malice. “Behave, Diana.”

Diana moved to the side, placing a hand on the latch to turn it so she could get out of there. “Okay, Daddy,” she said without thinking. She always did it with her brother, to annoy and make fun of him.

Whiskey's hand came around hers. “Call me that again and I'll show you what it means,” he whispered in her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine, gathering between her legs.

Diana lowered her head, hoping he wouldn't see that she was blushing. Whiskey took his hand away and Diana darted out of the bathroom.

She stopped after just two steps.

Spider was leaning with his back against the corridor wall. She met his stern eyes and wondered if he knew what had happened. After all, there had only been a miserable door separating them. As Whiskey exited behind her, Spider's gaze shifted to the other man and, for a moment, Diana felt the atmosphere tense between them. One accusation from Spider would have been enough to bring everything down.

Diana waited, anxiety torturing her insides.

Spider moved away from the wall, taking a step in the opposite direction of the bathroom. "Glad to hear you talked." Passive-aggressive; to Diana, it didn't even seem like an insinuation, but a real confirmation that he knew.

Traveling through that kind of tone was better than exposing the truth for everyone to hear, even if it was a difficult situation to manage in the long run. Also, since she knew Spider's personality, it was reasonable to assume that he wouldn't forget that moment.

Diana decided to pass him because her destination was her room, which she had begun to share with Siva. At least he was quiet and wasn't constantly trying to get into her panties.

She closed the door behind her, regardless of what she was leaving in the hallway. Those two could handle it themselves. It wasn't her duty to settle their feuds.

She crouched against the door, leaning one ear out. She heard their voices, low and careful as if they were trying not to be heard. Whiskey had called Spider by name, perhaps to try to stop him and talk to him. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying. She heard their footsteps retreat and then a door slam; she understood that she would not be able to achieve more.

Even though it was still early, Diana was more than happy to crawl under the covers and stay on the phone. Siva, lying next to her, was snoring. An easy confirmation that he was still alive. Guilt shot through her again. If he was in this state it was her fault. Saving her had taken a lot of him. Maybe too much.

She lay on her side and lost herself in the world of the internet, a distraction from the real one. It was so easy to turn off her brain when her eyes were on the screen. Nothing was important. Only those short videos and what they contained. She was a fly passing by. Insignificant yet rewarding. She had no worries, she didn't have to think.

She didn't have to remember.

Time grew short and an hour seemed as long as a few minutes. She left only to go wash and get ready for the night. She tried not to make too much noise and used her phone as a flashlight to see where she was going. When she returned after half an hour, she flopped onto the mattress.

Even though Siva had healed her, he could do nothing to free her from the deep wound left by her failure. Nothing would heal her except success. If she had managed to complete the challenge, she would surely have felt better.

But Diana was starting to doubt that she would succeed.

She found herself analyzing the route. As soon as she stepped onto the floor of the first section her presence seemed to be acknowledged. The rocks attacked her immediately, leaving her no respite. Diana had initially thought that they had programmed movements and that she would only have to recognize them to avoid them. After a few tries, she had realized that this wasn't the case. The rock's movements seemed to follow her.

She even thought that maybe she should let them hit her. The Goddess was called Pain, perhaps it was what Diana needed to feel if she wanted to overcome the challenge.

The Goddess responded, saying that she was wrong. "Listen to your body, let it free."

What she meant, Diana hadn't yet understood.

In subsequent attempts, she tried to trust her instinct. Yet it seemed to disappoint her. She wasn't quick, tough, or crafty enough. And after each blow, the pain reached her mind, which became noisy. With an active mind, it was impossible to let go of her body and allow it to feel what was around.

There was something, Diana had understood it before the others pointed it out, that she was doing wrong. A piece she was missing.

She had to find the key to decode the challenge.

The Goddess had said that the challenge was made just for her. Only Diana would have been able to overcome it. She had only understood what it meant after Ghost had made the stones disappear.

Diana continued to toss and turn in bed, following the course of her increasingly twisted and inconclusive thoughts. She was sure that she would spend another sleepless night.

Suddenly, Siva grabbed her from behind, pulling her towards him. Diana gasped, taken aback.

“Stop thinking,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

Siva pressed Diana against his chest, tightening his arm around her waist. He rested his face close to her neck, and she felt his warm, steady breath.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked shyly, trying to loosen his grip. She failed and Siva's arms remained glued around her body.

She received no response, making her realize that Siva was still lost in sleep.

She tried to listen to him and turn off her brain. Obviously, it was impossible, precisely because of him. The direction her thoughts had taken was different from the previous one.

She found herself thinking about what had happened in the bathroom with Whiskey. Before going to sleep she had to change her underwear, which he had ruined. She hoped that Siva did not dare bother her, because she was not in the mood and she would probably react badly.

Why had Whiskey been offended when she had simply exposed the truth? Their kiss had been a mistake (like the one with Ghost) and a moment of weakness. It meant nothing to either of them. Especially not to her.

She wasn't a little girl with daddy issues! What idea did they have of her?

She would never have looked to Whiskey for a relationship that wasn't platonic. At most (at most!), she would have allowed him to be a friend. Upon reflection, though, it seemed obvious that it would never happen. They had nothing in common and he probably had some retrograde ideas that she wouldn't appreciate.

And more importantly, the list of people she could care about had long since been closed. She wouldn't let those men intrude into her life only to leave her soon after due to a bloody death.

She felt a growing weight settle on her chest.

She could no longer escape the past.

~~~

Diana was in class. Clutched in the sleeves of her winter jacket, she was complaining to her classmates about how cold she was in those first days of December.

She stopped suddenly. Her senses on alert.

She looked around, desperately trying to understand why she was terrified. She couldn’t find anything out of the norm. Students only. She picked up the phone, thinking something might have happened to her family, but she hadn’t received any messages.

She looked up again. By chance, she pointed her gaze outside the classroom. The sky was a cold gray, with a heavy layer of clouds covering it.

Her skin was crawling.

Her heart started racing, her anxiety shouted that she had to run away from there, hide in some small cave where no one would ever find her.

Even though she still had no idea what was happening, Diana decided to listen to her instincts. She quickly gathered her things, throwing them senselessly into her backpack. After informing her classmates that she wasn't feeling well, she ran towards the exit of the classroom. On her phone screen, for the second time, she found no message.

She ended up in the bathroom to rinse her face, hoping that the freezing water would calm her down.

She looked up to examine her reflection.

And she discovered she wasn't alone.

Caught off guard by a female figure she hadn't heard approaching, she cursed and turned to look at her. But found no one behind her.

Her gaze returned to her mirror: again, there was a woman, leaning against the wall behind her. A woman that Diana was sure she had already seen in her nightmares.

Diana met her green eyes. She was smiling, compassionate, and sad. "He has arrived."

"Who?"

“You know who.” Her bitter tone showed helplessness.

"Who are you?" Diana asked, trembling with fear.

She had freaked out. There was no other explanation.

“Hurry back home, Diana.”

Her body moved on its own. Diana started running at breakneck speed. With the phone held to her ear, she called her father. "He's here!" A scream she didn't try to hold back, not caring that everyone could hear her.

Her father's voice arrived calm and controlled, but only after the seconds it took him to process the information. "It's okay, farfallina," he tried to console her. “Remember what we have planned.”

Diana nodded, even though her father wouldn't have been able to see her.

After hanging up the call, she sprinted to catch the bus. By some miracle (or was it a divine sign?), the bus she was supposed to take appeared just as she reached the stop.

She went inside and held on to the supports to catch her breath. Her gaze moved outside, onto the street, and then she saw Him.

On the sidewalk across the street, motionless. Diana had no idea how long he had been there. His black eyes found her and she held her breath, almost hoping she would die.

The bus, regardless of their contact, or perhaps to help her, continued along its route. Diana lost sight of him. She turned to face the direction of travel, her heart now racing and her mind full of horrible scenarios.

What would he do to her this time?

Would he find her and torture someone in front of her until she gave in?

Just the thought made her heart stop. Yet she continued to breathe.

~~~

She felt a hand hit her forehead, massaging her temples insistently. That contact distracted her, taking Diana away from a memory that was making her suffer.

"It's all right," Siva murmured. His fingers were warm and were pressing in the right places. "You're safe."

It wasn't true, but Diana forced herself to listen to him.

With each caress, her heart began to beat regularly. Whatever he was doing to her, it was working.

"Close your eyes."

She obeyed. And soon Diana managed to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Yoo had another nightmare. Similar to the last one, he had found himself in his grandparents' house, the only difference was that, this time, his brother had not come to save him.

He woke up sweating and with palpitations. He moved his gaze to the clock on the bedside table to his right. It was barely four in the morning. He would have had more hours of sleep at his disposal, but he chose to get up, aware that he would have a hard time falling back to sleep.

He left the room he shared with Ghost to go towards the bathroom. Intending to take a long, interrupted shower, he changed his mind as soon as he realized he was hearing a distant, faint voice.

He looked towards the kitchen, where the singing seemed to be coming from.

Sleep prevented him from activating fear. His body moved cautiously. The kitchen was empty and dull, illuminated only by the light filtering through the balcony's French windows. Yoo shrugged, being enveloped by a gust of cold air. He wasn't surprised to find the window open, nor to see the shape of the girl who was sitting outside. This time there were no curtains to hide her figure and she was not sitting on the floor, having chosen to crouch in one of the two armchairs on the balcony.

The voice he had heard was Diana's. Delicately and in a language he didn't know, she sang a melancholic and peaceful melody.

Before scaring her, Yoo tapped the kitchen table, alerting her of his presence.

Her eyes, sad and tired, snapped to him. She didn't pull away and offered him a gentle smile, which Yoo took as permission to come out. If he realized he was bothering her, he would leave immediately.

“Hey,” he said in a low voice, moving closer to occupy the seat in front of her. "Another nightmare?"

"Yes."

She was hugging her own legs. Her attention returned to the outside world. Their new apartment was located in a serene and isolated city. Being on the fifth floor of a central building, they could see all the other houses still asleep.

“What were you singing?” he asked, thinking that talking would help them both chase away the memories of the dreams they just had.

"An Italian song," she explained, putting one foot on the ground. "It was from a cartoon I liked when I was little."

Yoo remained silent, digging around in his head to find a decent answer or another question to ask her. He rejected all the options, feeling again like a teenager unable to talk to the girl he liked. He frowned, annoyed by his own thoughts.

He didn't like Diana.

In the time it took him to think and insult himself, Diana put both feet on the ground. She dangled them off the chair. “Sometimes singing helps me,” she admitted. "Or to just listen to some music."

"Silence helps me."

A playful smile quirked her lips. “Did I bother you, then?”

"No, of course not," he said quickly, embarrassed.

Diana's cheeks filled with her smile. “You can tell me if I'm stealing your moment of peace. It's not a problem."

Yoo ran a hand through his hair. How could he tell Diana he wanted her there without saying it directly? “You got here first,” he ended up saying.

Diana giggled. “How kind of you to give me permission to stay where I already am,” she teased.

Yoo looked away and sighed, not knowing what else to say. He still couldn't believe Diana's ability to short-circuit his brain.

The girl looked down at her toes, covered by two black socks. “You know, one of my favorite songs is in Korean.”

"Really?"

She bit her lip. "Yes." She glanced at him. "When I was fifteen I had a K-pop phase and discovered a lot of beautiful songs."

“I didn't think you liked K-pop,” he said, surprised by the information.

"I listen to it much less now, but as a teenager I was obsessed." Just remembering it was making her happy. "I know a few sentences, you know? In Korean, I mean.”

Yoo raised his eyebrows, feeling his lips break into a smile. "Go on."

"You can't laugh, though!”

"I promise."

"아름다워요 (areumdawoyo)."
Beautiful.

It wasn't what he had expected. He stared at her with his mouth open.

"난 숨쉬고 싶어, 이 밤이 싫어 (nan sumswigo sipeo i bami silheo)."
I want to be able to breathe, I hate this night.

"이젠 깨고 싶어, 꿈속이 싫어 (ijen kkaego sipeo kkumsogi silheo)."
I want to wake up, I hate this dream.

Diana stopped, not lost in singing the song she had started. Her eyes had searched the night above them.

“Then, I know: 서울특별시 특허허가과 (Seo-ul-teuk-byeol-si teu-keo-heo-ga-gwa).”

Yoo burst out laughing, taken aback by the tongue twister she was trying to say.

Diana kicked him. “You promised you wouldn't laugh!”

Yoo couldn't help himself. He leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands. His laughter, deep and loud, echoed through the cold, silent night.

“Try speaking in Italian and then I'll start laughing too,” she said. Her feigned annoyance couldn't hide her amusement.

“Your Korean is good,” he forced himself to say, between laughs. "How did you learn?"

"Alone. On internet."

“Remarkable,” he complimented. "It's not easy to learn to speak a language through the internet."

Diana shrugged. “I didn't say I learned to speak it,” she corrected him. "I said that I know, because I learned them by heart, some sentences. That's all. I don't see anything remarkable about it."

"It's still an accomplishment," he insisted. “Not everyone can do it.”

Diana didn't seem satisfied with his words. “Korean is difficult,” she concluded.

Yoo nodded. "European languages are difficult for us."

"Do you want me to teach you something in Italian?" She leaned toward him, looking at him with a bright expression. "In Italian, we have a whole category of swear words against God…"

Yoo shook his head. "Teach me how to say «you are beautiful»."

Diana stepped back. If she knew he was trying to flirt with her, she didn't show it. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked him up and down. "Do you want to use it with some Italian girl?"

You.

Yoo took a deep breath. “You never know,” he said. "It can always be useful."

"All right." She rolled her eyes. "Sei bellissima. Repeat it."

He obeyed.

From the smile on her face, Yoo knew he had mispronounced it.

“Say it again,” he ordered, leaning forward.

Diana did and Yoo repeated it. This time Diana didn't stop herself from bursting out laughing. After five more tries, she raised both thumbs. “You're an excellent student.”

"Sei bellissima."

Diana smiled. "Continue like this and you will conquer the entire Italian peninsula."

Yoo did not want to conquer the entire Italian peninsula. He would have been satisfied with just one girl.

Pleased that she didn't understand what he was thinking, he asked her to teach him more phrases. Well done, great job, everything will be fine.

Only at the end did Diana finally seem to realize it. Her cheeks turned a brighter shade. She began to no longer be able to look into his eyes. Yoo was tempted to continue embarrassing her.

Before he could, Diana changed the subject. “What necklace are you wearing?” she asked, quickly pointing to his chest.

Yoo looked down. He had gone to bed wearing a white shirt. Under it, everyone could see the talisman that he always carried with him. He wondered if Diana would understand. Maybe she would have judged him and considered him stupid or even worse, crazy.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

Diana seemed to think about it for a moment. "No, I don't."

He should have expected it. At least, he could forget about the theory that she too was able to see the spirits of the dead.

"But you do," she deduced.

Yoo nodded. He released the amulet from his shirt, showing it to her without taking it off his neck. If he were to take it off, it would stop protecting him. “I can see them.” Diana stared at him impassively, but Yoo guessed what she was thinking. “Since I was little.” He turned the amulet over in his fingers. "I know I sound crazy. Schizophrenic. But is not so. Even my paternal grandmother was able to see them. According to her, we are born with a deeper sensitivity than others." He dared to glance at her. "This talisman protects me. When I wear it I can't see them."

Diana put one hand to her mouth and the other to her stomach. Her expression seemed to become pained.

"Are you OK?"

She shook her head. Without warning him, she scrambled to her feet and ran across the kitchen. Yoo quickly followed her. He started to shout her name, but he stopped, remembering that he would wake the others.

When Diana left the kitchen, Yoo realized she was headed for the bathroom. She didn't close the door behind her, too intent on reaching her destination: the toilet. She knelt and started spitting.

Yoo hesitated in the doorway, unable to understand why she was throwing up. He recovered fast, deciding to find out later, and joined her. He sat down next to Diana, holding her hair as he had done before.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, Diana spoke, "Since we've known each other..." She threw her head back and sobbed. Yoo felt his heart breaking at her desperation.

"What?" he urged her to speak.

He would do anything for her, especially if it allowed him to see her smile again.

“Have you ever taken it off?” Tears, the origin of which Yoo couldn't understand, rolled down her cheeks. "Have you ever seen them?"

"Who?"

“Answer my question,” she demanded.

“No, I never took it off.”

Another sob broke her in two. Diana's hands came to rest around the toilet seat and she threw up her dinner.

Not knowing what else to do, Yoo used his free hand to rub her back. He whispered a few reassuring phrases.

The sound of two open doors alerted him that the others had woken up. He had just a minute to prepare to answer their questions.

He saw Whiskey and Spider stop in the bathroom doorway, their faces still sleepy. Behind them, still high as a mountain, he recognized the covered head of Ghost. “Diana doesn't feel well,” he said, knowing they would ask what was happening.

The girl closed her eyes and gasped. “No, I'm fine, I just…” Her voice was barely audible.

“Do you need any medicine?” Whiskey asked. He ran a hand through his sleep-disheveled hair and advanced toward her.

Diana reached out a hand in his direction, stopping him. “No, no, no.” Her head was low, partly hidden by the toilet seat. Yoo wondered if she was trying not to show them she was crying. "I'm fine," she repeated. “I just need to go back to sleep.”

Whiskey looked over at Yoo, perhaps asking what had happened. Yoo shrugged, having no idea himself.

Spider, who was leaning against the doorframe, sighed. "I'm going back to sleep," he announced. "Call me if you need anything."

He turned to go back to his room and invited Ghost to do the same.

Whiskey lingered.

“I'll take care of her,” Yoo insisted. "You don't have to stay. It's all right."

A shiver went through Diana's body and she started vomiting again. Yoo pinched his nose with his fingers, blocking out the smell.

"Diana..." Whiskey tried to say, perhaps suggesting that he would help her.

"I'm fine," she interrupted him.

Yoo took a deep breath. He was tired of hearing her say the same words all over again. Especially because it was obvious that it wasn't true. She could try to convince them and herself, but the reality remained unchanged.

Whiskey nodded, looking resigned to this stubborn girl. Maybe if he had been awake, he would have tried to put up more resistance. He turned, giving her one last worried look, and then returned to his room.

Diana moved away from the toilet and Yoo let go of her hair. “Promise me you'll never take it off around me.”

Yoo didn't answer. Caught off guard by her plea, he simply watched her.

Diana turned to face him. She gripped his shoulders and her expression looked tormented. "I’m begging you."

He grabbed her wrists, slowly taking her hands off of him. “I promise,” he said hesitantly.

Relief coursed through Diana's exhausted body and she relaxed. She pushed her head forward, resting it on Yoo's shoulder. After a few seconds of hesitation, he began stroking her hair. "Sh, everything's fine."

He froze as he felt Diana's arms wrap around him. He hugged her back, holding her against him.

“Is it because of the nightmare you had?”

Diana nodded. Her sobs reverberated through the bathroom.

Yoo looked up at the ceiling. If he had told his self from a few weeks ago that he would end up sitting in a bathroom consoling a crying girl, he would have laughed.

Yet there he was.

And the worst part was that he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Chapter Text

Three nightmares in the same night was a new record that Diana had never aspired to achieve. The last one, which she had done after Yoo had accompanied her to bed, had been the most terrifying. She had found herself in a tiny room, surrounded by the people who had died because of her. They had screamed, hitting her with her power. It was a circle of pain from which Diana could neither escape nor scream. She remained still, passive.

Standing with her shoulders huddled, she watched listlessly as the men chose who would be left behind that afternoon.

The lake behind her seemed as cold as usual. She wondered how much longer she would hold out before giving up. She could already feel her willpower slipping away.

Ghost was drawn. Diana smiled. "What a shame, today, we won't be able to admire your beautiful tattoos."

She had first discovered them when they had slept in the same room. Ghost had changed with his back to her and Diana had been able to admire (hoping not to be noticed) all his scars and his left arm covered in tattoos.

He wasn't the only one with them, but he seemed to have the most.

Ghost ignored her and Diana tried not to get offended. He turned to his teammates: "Good luck."

Why was he talking to them as if Diana wasn't the one who had to get destroyed to complete the challenge?

She clicked her tongue irritably and turned to change. She didn't wait for the others to enter the water. She put her feet in the lake, giving herself a few minutes to get used to its icy embrace. Couldn't a warm and welcoming sea have been chosen? She looked up at the blue sky above their heads. The sun watched them with its summer heat, which Diana usually found pleasant.

"Shall we proceed?" Spider's voice came from behind her.

Diana moved forward, without answering or checking that she was being followed. The shirt, which Yoo had kindly lent her, clung to her body. Diana looked down at her breasts, hating the way her nipples reacted to the cold.

She didn't turn around until the water reached her shoulders. Her chest being finally covered she turned towards the men who were following her. She looked at Yoo, the only one who hadn't already undertaken that journey, and she told him what to do.

Diana dived beneath the surface and swam until she felt the current envelop her. She let go, allowing that energy to carry her through. She was starting to like it. She could close her eyes and relax, confident that there was something else taking care of her.

She opened her eyes only to swim to the surface. As soon as her face came out, she filled her lungs with air, smiling at the relief her body was feeling. She counted the exposed heads and looked at Yoo's frightened expression, keeping from laughing. She had probably reacted similarly the first time she had entered the cave.

She waited a few more minutes, enjoying the strange and gloomy atmosphere of the cave. Then, when it seemed the others had recovered, she swam towards the shore.

Diana hoisted herself up and slowly reached the wall. The weight of the sleepless night was starting to feel strong on her body. She placed her hand on the rock and sighed.

The place where the challenge was held opened up in front of them and Diana seemed to feel the little energy she still had inside her slipping away. She understood that the tiredness she felt wasn't just physical.

She shuffled forward. She had no desire to humiliate herself in front of those men again. The day before she had felt the weight of their gazes on her the entire time and she felt like she was going crazy.

"What's this?" she heard Yoo ask.

Diana continued walking, stopping only in front of the first section. “Pain,” she replied. "A challenge to complete in exchange of information." Why was she telling him this?

"Which information?" Spider asked her immediately.

Diana didn't even look at him. She wanted to hurry up, get destroyed, scream at them because they would try to stop her, go back to the apartment, and sleep.

She took a step forward, closer and closer to the starting line.

"Wait!"

“What is it now?” she blurted out, turning to Whiskey, who was advancing towards her.

“I have an idea,” Whiskey announced. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It's probably stupid and crazy, but we don't have any better.”

Diana frowned at him and was tempted to tell him to get to the point.

Whiskey pointed to the challenge. "The rocks are men."

The others, who had gathered around him to listen, exclaimed their confusion.

Whiskey quickly said, "Listen."

Diana took a step back, taking his hands off her. "This comparison doesn't really make me want to start, If I'm being honest."

“That's the point,” he insisted. "You", he pointed to her, "are at the disco. You split from your friends to go to the bathroom and now have to go back to them. But they are on the other side of the room. Between you and them, there are a lot of disgusting men. You have to keep them away. You don't want them to touch you."

Diana looked at the rock outcrops. She tried to focus on that image until she could almost see it. She imagined herself immersed in the scenario Whiskey had just described.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself.

“Dance,” Yoo said, stopping her before she even started. "And sing. That's what you would do in this scenario, right?”

It was true. She would concentrate on the music, preventing herself from thinking about external sensations. At that moment, only she would exist.

Why not try to replicate it with the challenge she faced?

She rolled up her short sleeves until they reached her shoulders. She needed her arms to be free.

“If you laugh, I'll kill you,” she warned her men.

She didn't meet their gazes, preferring to keep hers on (the rocks) the men she had to face.

With her eyes closed, Diana forced her mind to recreate the scenario. She chose the right playlist and played the music in her brain.

Your friends are on the other side of the room, she told herself. Reach them.

A song you love is playing, you adore the melody. You start dancing. You get used to feel the notes descend into your muscles. Your arms rise, not higher than your head, and your hips sway.

And you begin.

You see them, the sea of men who stand between you and your goal.

You have to avoid them, pretend not to feel their gazes on you. There is only you and the music. You are alone.

You dance like it's real.

Your feet never linger in the same place for too many seconds, guiding you through the crowd trying to touch you.

You raise a hand, a finger pointing to the ceiling lit by the crystal ball descending onto the dance floor, and sing at the top of your lungs. You step back because you saw that some men were aiming at you and when you are hidden behind other bodies, you move to the side.

Like Pacman.

You lean on a man's shoulder and avoid the kick that a not-much-space-aware dancer is throwing towards your ankles.

Some people aren't meant to go out!

The man you are leaning on is about to touch you and so you move away from him, resuming the strange dance that only you can follow.

Suddenly, a group dance starts. You know each move by heart. Of course, you join them.

Two steps forward, hands up towards the sky, three steps back, two to the side, and then forward again. You spin yourself, enjoying the music coursing through your veins.

The real world has now ceased to exist. You can only hear your body language.

You place your hands in a wave and move sideways, stopping only to take a few steps forward and then one back. One hand reaches for your head, then the other. You've always loved the Macarena.

The song commands you to come down. You strain your ankles and parabajo, parabajo. You throw your head back, avoiding an arm some man had thrown up without looking around. You're not sure if the sexy move, requested by the male singing voice, was done well, but what do you care?

You go straight and turn around. When you finally reach your friends your head will spin. You're close, you feel it.

Down again. This time you only move your back, doing a limbo to avoid the limbs that are about to reach you.

At the next song, you start moving your hips and clapping your hands as you spin around. Your hands wave up and then in front of you. At the same time, you never stop moving your feet.

A fist reaches your stomach. It threatens to make you lose concentration, but you don't give up.

“Isquierda, derecha, dale dale.”

You meet the gaze of a man you know. He is an old schoolmate of yours who you didn't hate. He's one of those you met after you changed high school, just a few weeks after your old classmates had died. He offers you a hand (a rock limb) and you use it to spin yourself while avoiding everyone else. It helps you launch yourself forward.

You're getting closer and closer. Hold on a little longer, then you'll be through the first part.

The song that starts is even more lively, it demands that you be quicker and more instinctive. “Baila al ritmo quelta.”

A kick hits your heel and you risk losing your balance. Your classmate is still nearby. You use him to get up and continue.

Your feet drag sideways, and then forward. Music gives you a moment of creativity, and then you indulge in the strange dances you learned when your friends forced you to go to the center of the circle they had created. They're moves you stole from dances you saw on Just Dance in middle school.

Finally, Diana could breathe.

There was a two-meter break between the first section and the second. She looked back, still in disbelief that she had made it this far. What exactly had happened? She couldn't understand it.

She placed a hand over her heart dancing in her chest.

She still had three sections in front of her, two of which unknown.

She looked at the still-hanging wires. They were up to her chest, but she knew they would fall, moving sideways.

The song you need for the next section is different. You close your eyes and look for it in your brain. As soon as you find it, you insert the disc into the radio. The music envelops your body, taking possession of it.

You immerse yourself in memories. You are with your sister in front of the television. You're competing to see who can get the highest score on Just Dance. You have trained in the previous weeks, and by now, you know the steps.

Clap your hands, swaying your hips. You are determined to win.

You bend your arms forward and then back, as if you were on a boat and trying to balance.

Diana advanced and the balls, hanging from the ceiling, hurtled towards her.

By mistake, you miss a step. You curse but immediately resume the choreography. You begin to lower yourself, throwing your feet forward one at a time. You forgot what that step was called, your sister said it a traditional Russian dances. You don't know whether to believe her.

The next step needs you to open your arms and legs. You hate how difficult it can be. It took you months to perfect it.

You spin around, playing an imaginary violin as you go.

The next steps are simple, arm and hip movements that allow you to move forward and turn to avoid the drinks the men throw in your direction. You had forgotten about them. Better think again about the scenario with your sister. No, you found the solution. Your brother came down to the living room and started bothering you both, throwing pillows or anything else he could find. You yell at him "Hey! Hey!".

Push your back backward, avoiding a vase he's throwing at you. What a piece of shit! As soon as you're done you'll make him pay.

You keep doing this until he manages to hit you from behind. You fall forward.

Diana gasped in pain. She forced herself to stand up. She was already halfway…

You can't lose! Your sister will forever remind you of this failure. You raise a middle finger at your brother and continue, gritting your teeth in pain.

For concentration, you start singing the song, hoping that it will allow you to better incorporate the dance. And in fact, you feel more relaxed and confident. You manage to avoid your brother's blows.

Diana felt like screaming. She stepped into the zone of peace between the two sections and raised her arms to the sky, basking in the white light of the cave. “Fuck you!” She shouted it until she felt free and happy.

The adrenaline from the victory was warming her muscles, making her eager to move.

What was waiting for her after that section? Diana had no idea. But, for the first time since she had walked in there, she wasn't afraid.

That's what the Goddess had tried to tell her.

The challenge was truly tailor-made for her.

It seemed hard to believe.

Beautiful. Magnificent.

She studied the next section, searching for clues. She saw only a vast area of rock.

"Now what?" she wondered.

You are the dancing queen, replied the Goddess. Act like one.

Oh, she would have done it with pleasure!

Chapter Text

And then you move forward.

You are the dancing queen, only seventeen years old. Your friends surround you and want to see you dance. The light is on you, while everyone waits to see what you can do.

You move cautiously at first. You raise your arms to the sky and sway. The ground beneath your feet shakes and you shift to the side.

Is the ground lava?

No, you're floating on a mattress made of water. You continue dancing, trying not to lose your balance, until you feel the floor fall beneath your foot.

“Fuck, fuck!”

Don't lose your focus! Your friends cheer you on from afar.

You understand the mistake. You're in a Pokémon gym where the ground is divided into small squares. You can place your feet on each of them only once and for a few seconds. You are forced to calculate a route. Panicking, you feel your muscles tightening, so you change the song. You choose Lady Gaga.

In the seconds before her voice explodes in your head, you do a cartwheel. You don't put your hands on the ground, to save a couple of squares. You are satisfied with your landing. It's been a while since you have done a cartwheel and you're happy to be still able to do it. Why did you stop doing it? It does not matter.

While music flows through your veins, you crawl sideways, following the path you've composed in your mind. Suddenly a stone appears in your way. Thrown from the ceiling, it almost hit you on the head. More panic threatens to paralyze you, but Lady Gaga reminds you that you must move forward.

Standing still means death.

And dying is out of the question. You promised, remember?

You breathe deeply and dance. Your muscles start to feel sore and tired. After you finish the challenge you will sleep for days on end. Nobody can stop you.

"Love, love, I want your love."

You raise your hands to the sky as you spin around, then bring them down, touching your face and body in a way you hope is sensual. But who cares? Nobody is watching you. It’s just you. And the boxes that fall behind you.

"Oh oh oh."

Shaking your shoulders and head, you lunge forward. You fall on your hands. You press, lifting your legs, and launch yourself forward. This way, you manage to cross three lines. How cool, huh? You're cool. Repeat it. Sing it.

"I don't wanna be friends!"

You open your arms wide, proud of yourself for finally being able to show the world what you can do, that you are qualified.

After all, you were born this way, baby.

More rocks fall in front of you and you are forced to move back a row. You hate it, but you don't have time to waste.

You're at the pride parade and homophobes are trying to stop you from dancing and being yourself. What are you going to do? Aren't you going to dance even crazier just to annoy them?

They may try to stone you, but you're just better. Invincible. Your sister is behind you, clutched in her girlfriend's hand. You will protect them with all your body, creating a path they can follow.

Until one day you too will take the hand of the person you love.

There is only one life and it must be lived to the fullest. Nobody can stop you from existing. You will live. That's what you deserve.

Diana laughed. Dancing had never seemed so liberating and beautiful. She felt like she had started living again after long years of immobility.

She was only missing one section. Maybe it was just a beautiful dream and soon she would wake up. She would be punched in the face by the harsh reality.

She pinched herself, trying to confirm, thanks to pain, that it was all real. She was alive.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her adrenaline-racked body. She moved her gaze to the last section.

The rock floor was linear, without spikes. To make it dangerous, even though they were still, there were seven statues of knights. They were kneeling with one leg raised and a huge sword embedded in the ground. Diana guessed they would start moving as soon as she entered the section.

She needed a few minutes to collect herself.

"Are you OK?" Spider's cry reached her faintly, a reminder that the mercenaries were there too.

What were they thinking of her? No! It didn't matter. She didn't have to waste time wondering what those men were thinking of her. For all she cared, they could call her crazy.

The important thing was to complete the challenge. And Diana was so close…

She just had to… Do what?

Just Dance for six minutes, the Goddess told her.

That's it?

Avoid your enemies' shots.

Can I scream and destroy them?

Not today.

It meant that she would see them again and that in one of the next challenges she would be forced to use her power against those stone statues.

Six minutes were divisible by two songs. All she had to do was dance to two more songs. She went back to the first scenario: disco, men to avoid. She could also imagine herself as a bullfighter surrounded by bulls. But she didn't like this second comparison. The bulls didn't deserve to be killed. When, as a child, she had seen that grotesque spectacle for the first time, Diana had found herself hoping that the bullfighter was the one who died.

Macabre for a six-year-old, but she wouldn't accept any criticism about it.

She stuck with Whiskey's scenario, surprising herself with how much it was helping her. He deserved a nice kiss. Diana felt like laughing, disgusted with herself.

For this last part of the challenge, she needed something more sparkling. She had to let loose, always be on the move. Being drunk would have allowed her to feel the part better.

Maybe she could have started with ABBA and then given in to famous DJs, like Gabry Ponte and Gigi D'ag. Finding an Italian song to sing at the top of her lungs would have been perfect.

When she felt ready, she stepped forward.

The statues rose slowly as if giving her time to escape. She wanted to do it. Oh, yes... she wanted to run away. She would run faster than the wind. Instead, ignoring her mind, she forced herself not to step back.

She watched as the statues held their swords and started walking towards her.

You can do it.

You immerse yourself in the scenario. Your friends are cheering you on. You hear their joyful screams, even if they are far away.

The first man approaches. You prepare to avoid his arms that are trying to capture you. If you're not careful, you'll end up with his bad breath on your neck and his sweaty body pressed against yours. And when you finally manage to walk away from him, the man will insult you, telling you that you are a whore and ugly. A whale. It doesn't matter that until two seconds ago he had deemed you worthy of his attention.

So, you have to avoid them.

You dodge the shots they direct towards you, it feels like you're in a video game. And then you try to imitate the protagonists' dodges. Do a flip, pressing your back against the ground. You should stand up and shout “Parkour!” to quote that comedy TV series your father liked.

You could do it, but you don't have the time.

The next man arrives. You narrowly avoid him. His sword strikes another of the men, shattering his stone head. You understand that you can use this to your advantage.

Making men destroy themselves doesn't seem like a bad idea.

You stop, waiting for everyone to come towards you. The headless man is disturbing, you shudder when you see him get up and continue walking.

What keeps them up? Magic, obviously, but how? Where is it channeled? What do they have instead of their hearts? Maybe if you dug under all that stone you would find one. You know it's not worth searching.

When the men are surrounding you, you sink and roll away. Their shots reach the heads of the man in front of them or their torsos. It's a ridiculous scene that makes you smile. But most of all, it makes you feel strong and smart.

If you can defeat them without using your power, imagine what you can do with it.

After the first three minutes, the song changes. And with it, the men's movements become faster. Dodging becomes increasingly difficult. You can only dance with all the energy you have left.

Another minute passes.

The first shot arrives. They hit your left thigh. You kneel, swallowing the cry that rises your throat. You look at the statue, the man, with hatred. Pain risks making you lose concentration.

You have to sing louder.

"Tu vivi nell'aria! Tu vivi dentro al mio cuore!"

You don't take the next shot. You move faster, using your knees to dance low and away from them.

You perceive the last minute slowly. Every second seems to etch itself into your skin. You feel the weight of it. It makes you weak.

You get hit a second time. And again, you shut your mouth. The cry gnaws at your throat, pressing to be released. But you're so close. The last effort! Then, you can finally rejoice.

In exchange for your victory, the Goddess will answer more of your questions.

Diana stepped back, counting every second in her head. The Goddess's voice was adding to hers. Arrogantly, she smiled, knowing it was a risk. But there were less than twenty seconds left. She could resist. She had to.

You make one last move, risky, but which allows you to avoid the shots aimed at you. You spin around, moving towards the center of the section.

You stop. The men reach out to you.

But their attempts are futile.

Diana counted aloud. "One!"

Shout, the Goddess ordered. And Diana did it with pleasure.

Her voice disperses throughout the cave, not reaching the four men witnessing her spectacle. She destroyed the rock statues in seconds. She even reached the spikes of the first section, destroying the closest ones and causing the furthest ones to tremble.

She had succeeded.

“I did it,” Diana said hoarsely.

She looked around, searching for evidence of her victory.

“Tell me it's over,” she prayed to the Goddess.

You won.

Diana clapped her hands over her mouth, holding back a sob. Then, she raised them to the sky and shouted like a normal human being who just received wonderful news. The curses that followed were ones of joy, an insult aimed at anyone who didn't believe in her.

I am waiting for you.

Diana moved her gaze to the end of the cave, looking at the wall. She knew she had to do was touch it to meet the Goddess.

Diana recognized the sound of heavy footsteps behind her. Having no time to waste and forgetting about the mercenaries, Diana reached the wall. She placed a hand on the stone.

"Diana!" With their voices, they tried to stop her.

Diana ignored them. She wanted her answers.

She had waited too long.

The wall opened for her, showing a new scenery. The men behind her were getting closer, ready to cross that gap with her. But Diana didn't want them to. Fearing that their presentation might prevent the Goddess from appearing and speaking, she hurried inside.

The rock closed behind her, moving with a sound that reminded her of the whistling of the wind. She turned to meet their worried faces. She smiled, hoping they would understand that everything was fine and they just had to wait.

As soon as the wall between them seemed solid, Diana began to observe the new environment. She had ended up on a beach, open and bright. There was nothing there except the extensive sand.

Diana looked at her bare feet, enjoying the warm embrace of the sand between her toes.

As soon as she returned to the apartment, she promised herself that she would take a long shower to get those specks off. But right now, she would enjoy them.

She started walking, exploring the vastness of the blue sea with her gaze.

There was no clue where she was. It could be anywhere.

She looked over her shoulder, examining the high rock wall that bordered the beach. Perhaps someone skilled in geography would have been able to locate that place.

She advanced until she felt the wind whip her face with its impetuosity. She closed her eyes, blocking the sand from entering them.

"Welcome back."

Her eyes widened, focusing them on the female figure that had appeared out of nowhere.

The Goddess smiled at her, extending a hand to invite her to sit at her table.

Diana stared at the round table that had appeared with the Goddess, amazed and a little wary. There were only two chairs and only one was free. Diana placed a hand on the backrest, looking at the wood carved in what seemed to be a Gothic style.

“You promised that…” Diana began, moving her chair to sit.

The Goddess, sitting on the other end, nodded. “I'll keep my word.” Her chair seemed larger and more majestic, reminding Diana of a pompous throne. "First, however, I would like to offer you something to drink. Tea, perhaps?'

Diana wasn't very hungry, but she was thirsty. "Thank you."

The Goddess ran her hand over the table and beneath it appeared a teapot with a streak of boiling smoke and two white cups with golden rims. "Please. Be careful, it's hot."

Diana licked her lips, looking at what was before her in confusion. She hadn't expected to find herself having tea with an eternal Goddess.

"Don't be afraid" said the Goddess. "It's not poisoned."

Diana shivered. Why did she always have to smile creepily?

Diana reached out for the teapot. She poured the tea into the Goddess' cup and then into her own, trying not to spill any. “So…” she began, hesitantly and watching the smoke rise from the brown surface of the tea. “Should I start with the questions or will you be the one to speak?”

The Goddess made a white container of sugar appear. She poured a lot of it into her cup and started stirring the spoon. “I know what you want to ask,” she said. “That's why I prepared a story.” Her eyes searched Diana's. They were always hard, proving that her smile was just a facade. “Your interruptions are more than welcome. Feel free to ask me anything you want."

Diana nodded, looking down at her cup, she brought it to her lips. “Please, start,” she urged the Goddess.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was an orphan. (All the best stories start like this, don't they?).

An orphan who lived alone in a village far away, in a large house owned by two men who showered him with work and insults. The poor orphan, who was nine years old at the beginning of this story, was only allowed to rest in the night. He stayed awake to watch, until late in the dark hours, from the small screen granted to him just a few months before, when one of his masters had changed model, the magic shows of the Moon Warriors. Beautiful dame, who wore long and pompous dresses, or tight ones in cold colors. Their blades were sharp, capable of reflecting the light of the moons above their heads.

Each of them had access to a specific magic.

The orphan admired them, praying to the gods to be like them. He didn't care if he had to change his gender. He would have accepted it. After all, being a boy or a girl made no difference for him.

He admired, most of all, the dame whom he considered the most beautiful and strongest. She had been granted the power to move. Not just across worlds but in the one they lived in. Able to move herself and anything else, her magic was granted by the Goddess of Abundance. (Exactly, we're talking about me.)

She had received the Blessing.

The night this story begun, the dame announced, before the kingdom, that she would start searching throughout the vastness of their land for three apprentices, whom she would train in the Art of the Moons. She would have entered all the houses that would have welcomed her, listened, and seen the show created by the candidates.

Suddenly filled with a rush of energy and hope he hadn't felt for years, the orphan stood up. He trained until dawn, working hard to create a choreography worthy of the dame he admired.

She was going to choose him!

The next day, he worked harder than usual. His masters, as a reward, allowed him to sit at the table with them for dinner. The orphan received a larger meal than he was used to. He even dared to chat with his masters, the kinder one reciprocated, while the other remained silent. He asked them if they had heard the news that the blessed woman would choose apprentices, to which he replied no.

The oldest and most grumpy of his masters got up from the table. The look he gave the orphan was a cold warning. “We won't let her into our house.” He spoke in a hard, determined tone that threatened to shatter the orphan's hope.

Without giving any further explanation, the master left the dining room. His partner, shaking his head, approached the orphan. “Don't talk about those women or the Goddess anymore, understood?”

"Why?"

If he had asked that question to the other owner, he would have only received a beating. Instead, the kind, young master placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's an old story." His apprehensive look made the orphan understand that the old man had suffered because of the ladies and the Goddess. He found it hard to believe. Surely he was wrong, or there was another explanation.

The orphan understood that he would not be able to receive any explanation.

Back in his small room, he spent the night practicing.

A month passed before the dame left on her journey through the houses of the realm. Three more before she made it to their village.

The orphan was thrilled at the idea of being able to see her in person. Even as the months moved on, he was still certain that he would be chosen. Why shouldn't he be?

When, in front of the village church, a sheet appeared in which families could write their names, to warn the dame that she was welcome in their homes, the orphan prayed to his masters.

He saw in the old master's blue eyes that he had touched a sensitive nerve. The orphan immediately recognized the moment when the master decided he needed to teach him a lesson for his lack of respect. The orphan tensed, trying to prepare himself for what lay ahead. But being hit by the stick, which the old man used to walk, was a punishment that the orphan still couldn't handle. A scream always escaped him and his legs gave way.

Curling up, the orphan covered his head. He was beaten extensively, for what he perceived as grueling hours. When his master finally tired, the orphan was bleeding, his hope now broken.

"Go back to work."

He received no help, no caress.

He struggled to his feet, limping on his painful and battered legs.

The dame remained in the city for a few days. She thanked the whole village during the local mass and announced that she would be leaving the next morning.

The orphan looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror he was cleaning. It was at that moment that he made his final decision.

It would have been worth it.

He didn't sleep a wink all night. Every movement, even the smallest, brought pain and his mind was too anxious to relax. As soon as he saw the colors of dawn, he slipped out of the masters' house. He limped to the inn where the dame was staying and managed to meet her before she left.

He begged her to stop.

The dame was of magnificent beauty, with a clean face, straight teeth, and neat dark hair. She gave him a gentle smile, asking him what his name was.

“I don't have a name,” replied the orphan. “My masters didn't give one to me.”

The dame turned pale. “Do your masters know you are here?”

The orphan shook his head.

The dame looked away from him, focusing on one of the girls accompanying her. She seemed to communicate something to her with that single look. Whatever they were saying, the orphan understood it would not be in his favor.

He grabbed the dame's robe, kneeling before her. “Please, please,” he said desperately. "Allow me to dance for you."

His chest was rising with difficulty.

The lady crouched on the ground and caressed his head. "Do you want to apply as my apprentice?"

"Yes, please!"

"All right." Her gentle smile returned. "Dance for me."

The orphan moved away and struck a pose, while he breathed deeply. The pain he felt in his body was his enemy, but he was strong. He could handle it.

He had to give his best. That was his only chance. The dame would have understood that he was worthy.

And so he danced.

By the end of the dance, his body was burning with effort and his heart was bursting. There was silence. The eyes of the woman and the girls fixed on him.

Nobody said anything.

“I'm done,” he announced, thinking they hadn't understood it.

Only one of the girls, the one furthest away and youngest, timidly clapped for him.

The dame crouched on the ground again, inviting him with one hand to come closer. With that same hand, kind and delicate, she caressed his face. A contact that the orphan had wanted for years, without even knowing it. "We'll let you know," was all he said. Her smile was forced, a straight line with white teeth exposed. “You have to go home now.”

The orphan didn't want her to leave. He clutched at her robes, desperate to keep her there. "Wait, please! Take me with you!"

One of the girls pushed him away. The orphan almost fell. The girl received a glare from the dame, who quickly reminded her to behave.

The lady had defended him! It was the certainty the orphan needed. He was the chosen one.

He watched the women enter the carriage and stood there watching as it drove away. He even dared to wave. When the dame returned the gesture, the orphan's heart filled with joy.

He knew all his effort had finally meant something. It couldn't be otherwise. The dame had been kind to him. And she would only be with one of her future apprentices.

He returned happy to his masters and smiled at their beatings. What importance did it have now? He would stay there for a little longer. He just had to wait.

A year passed before the dame finished her journey. She appeared on the screen, with her new apprentices in tow, and the orphan's heart stopped.

It never started to beat again.

The plates he was holding fell. A noise that attracted the attention of his owners, especially the old man, who did not hesitate to rail against him.

But the orphan could not see them. His eyes were filled with tears. Not being able to stand there any longer, he started running.

He ran away to the fields that belonged to his masters. He ran until his legs gave out.

Alone and surrounded by nothing but nature, he vented the cry he had accumulated within himself. His voice frightened the birds around him, and they flew away.

He cried for hours, writhing on the ground.

"It's not fair!"

Why not him?

He had been so sure of it…

The dame had mocked him! What a vile person!

He looked up at the three moons that were lighting up the sky and asked them how they had allowed such a cruel creature to exist. Wasn't it their duty to protect people? Prevent evil from coming upon them?

He returned when it was already late in the evening and he was determined to suffer his sentence: death. His owners were waiting for him in the kitchen and the orphan walked up to the chair occupied by the old man. What awaited him was certain.

“Why did you run away, boy?”

He didn't need to lie. It wasn't worth it anymore. He told them everything, without skipping any details.

The old man moved his chair aside to get closer to the orphan, who closed his eyes. He was ready to receive his punishment. He knew it would be the last.

The master knelt on the ground, letting go of the walking stick, which fell to the floor with a thud. The orphan jumped at the sudden noise.

His master's arms wrapped around him completely, pushing the orphan to press his head against his master’s chest. Thinking it was an attempt at strangulation, instinct got the better of him and the orphan began to wriggle.

"Stop moving, you fool!" the old man shouted.

The orphan forced himself to stay still. He deserved that death, he was surprised that he wanted it. At least, he wouldn't have to feel the emotions that were attacking him from inside anymore.

The minutes alternated slowly and without anything happening. The orphan pressed close to the old man.

Hug was a concept he had only seen from afar. Not even from his masters, who rarely touched each other. He had seen it among couples in the village or among other children. But he had never received one.

It was therefore impossible for him to understand what was happening. What was he supposed to do? Break away first or wait?

In the end, he chose to do nothing, to let the old master have complete control of the situation.

With every minute spent in that warm and reassuring contact, he felt the tears return. A cry that threatened to be more painful than the previous one.

The orphan allowed himself to grab his master's robe, looking for safe support. He pressed his face against his shoulder and cried.

"Sh… I know…" They weren't words he had expected. He received pats on the back, dry yet comforting. "It's not your fault," the master insisted. "The Goddess and her daughters are cruel women. They love to deceive us."

The master pushed the orphan away from him, not aggressively but a kind and understanding gesture. An attitude that continued to confuse the orphan. He took his face between his fingers and wiped away the crusted tears. "With their beauty and loveliness they blind us," he explained. "You wanted to be like them, to join their bliss. But you weren't never wanted."

"Why?" his voice was fragile, a child who cannot control his feelings.

"Malignant, manipulative creatures who enjoy playing with the hearts of men" he replied. "That's why they do it. They devour us. They feed on our pain."

“Did they do the same to you?”

The old man just nodded.

And the orphan decided to cry for him too, until his tears stopped and his head began to hurt. When he calmed down, he was sent to bed.

But he couldn't sleep.

Chapter Text

The rejection of the dame he admired marked a turning point in the orphan's life.

Faced with the pain shared by the old man, his masters changed their attitude. They became kinder and more understanding. They began to treat him as an equal, worthy of being in their presence. Even, only with the passing of the years, to consider him a son.

He was allowed to choose a name for himself.

"Aruki."

He had discovered it by reading one of the books he had found in his masters' library. For years, he had limited himself to cleaning it from the dust, without being able to open it, despite his curiosity to leaf through its pages. When the old man finally taught him to read and allowed him to take any book in the house, the orphan discovered new worlds.

The Aruki who had struck him was a powerful and invincible man who, driven by the desire for power and knowledge, had crossed the known worlds, exploring them and discovering their mysteries. His desire was born from a huge family loss: the omicide of his parents and the woman he loved had pushed him out of his amazing life.

The orphan found this name perfect. He chose to appropriate it, to make it his own.

Like the Aruki of the story, he too would set out on a journey to become more powerful and wise. He would do everything to prove that the dame was wrong in not accepting him.

He was worthy.

And she was the monster who had robbed him of the life he deserved.

Aruki…

He liked the way it sounded.

His masters did not object, allowing him to exercise the new freedom they had given him. The years that followed were happy for Aruki. The masters educated and trained him, showing interest in nurturing his new life project. He discovered that he loved swords. The old man paid a master who taught him how to use one and pushed him to get admitted to the military school of their kingdom.

It was a cold winter when the old master died. He was taken away from the people who loved him by an illness that made his last days full of pain. Aruki and the other master mourned him from a distance, forced by the village doctor not to approach him, not even in his last moments.

His partner joined him the following spring, dying on the first day the cherry trees in their village were in bloom.

Left alone and with a large estate in his inheritance, Aruki felt lost. For a long time he did not know what to do, and even leaving the house became impossible. Until the old man appeared to him in a dream and ordered him to get a grip. He could not cry over spilled milk.

Aruki sold the estate and set out on a journey as he had always wanted.

He would cross the kingdom to look for someone who could train him and teach him the ways of power. Only the best would be accepted.

His journey began in the summer. The scorching summer heat threatened to stop him, but Aruki forced himself to keep going. He couldn't stop, his life dependent on it.

It was an autumn day when he reached the house of a notorious criminal, who had escaped years before from the most guarded prison in the kingdom. But Aruki didn't know who he was dealing with.

In the village, he had heard some stories about the man who lived in that house, which from the outside looked like a hovel. They said he was strong as the sun and fast as the wind, impetuous as the ocean and tireless as the desert.

Aruki couldn't have asked for a better teacher.

He crept inside the house in the middle of the night, finding the room where the man was sleeping after just a few minutes. It was clear that he hadn't noticed the intrusion.

Aruki stopped to observe his serene face, wondering what kind of dreams he was having.

He decided to leave. If the man hadn't even been able to hear an intruder enter his house, then he wasn't the teacher Aruki was looking for. Aruki observed him one last time, tempted to kill him and take away everything of value. A moment of pity crossed him, he decided to turn.

He tried to leave the room, going through the window he had left open.

He was not even allowed to understand what was happening. It all happened in a matter of seconds. One moment he was looking at the three moons in the sky, the next his face was pressed against the tatami, every limb of his body blocked.

"Reveal your name and your intentions!" the man shouted, pressing in the middle of Aruki's back to hurt him.

Aruki closed his eyes and smiled, happy that he was not mistaken.

I was interrupted.

"Why should I care about his life story?" Your gaze was confused, unable to understand why I was getting lost in all these useless details. What was the point of my story? And why was it taking me so long to get to it?

"Why shouldn't you?" I brought the cup to my lips. “Knowing a person’s life helps us understand them better, and by understanding them, we can defeat them.”

Your hesitation told me that you knew I was right. Shrugging, you asked, “Can’t you skip a few bits?”

You wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but you were anxious to return to your protectors and celebrate your victory with them. Bored by my story, you had been lost in imagining the evening you would organize: you would go out for drinks and maybe even a proper dinner. This time, you were sure, nothing would happen. Everything would go smoothly and you would have fun.

Your men would complement you on a job well done. The challenge was finally over and you had done well. Oh, how you would enjoy their attention!

Even though I could understand your feelings, my story took precedence.

You just had to wait a little longer.

So I continued.

Aruki had a hard time convincing the man to train him. He was old and tired, no longer as fast and skilled as he once was. But Aruki's determination and his goal fascinated him.

For the next five years, his new master trained him in the ways of the Chaos Warriors. Chaos... the deity who had granted him life many years before and who had helped him escape from captivity. When the master deemed Aruki ready and worthy, he revealed the truth behind my Blessings.

The flame of the orphan's envy burned brightly again, annihilating every other emotion.

Feeling like the orphan who had been rejected again, his hatred grew and his goal seemed more necessary than ever.

"What truth did he reveal?" you asked.

I looked away from the ocean I had focused on. "About my identity and role in the universe, and why I chose you."

Your gaze narrowed. "What do you mean?"

I smiled. "I chose girls who caught my eye." You knew I hadn't answered your question, but you still decided not to force me.

"I was just a child, how could I have caught your attention?"

Oh, how could I explain the strange ways of my mind?

"I saw the person you could have become."

You said nothing, closing yourself off.

The master explained how to take possession of the power I had granted to my Blessed Ones.

From your nod, you tried to tell me to continue the story. I was tempted to tell you that every sentence that came out of my lips was true. I wasn't lying to you, why would I?

Aruki revealed his past to the master, telling him his thirst for power was born only after the refusal of the dame who had deceived him. The master, sitting in front of him on the same tatami, asked Aruki if he thought he was ready to kill her. It wouldn't be easy. My Blessed remained fearsome opponents.

"Did he do it?" you asked me. "Did he manage to kill her?"

Three more years passed before the dame reached the village where Aruki lived with his master.

As had happened when he was still an orphan, the villagers gathered in the main square, welcoming the lady with a parade and banquets. Aruki was among them, immersed in those welcoming and enthusiastic faces. From afar, he carefully observed the dame: she had aged, no longer young, but an old woman, who had begun to lose the charm and beauty that had distinguished her.

For Aruki, she had lost the right to keep my Blessing. He believed that it was time to pass my power to someone else.

He was ready to take that right for himself.

He spent the rest of the day following her, moving through the crowded streets of the village. He did not lose her even during meals, deciding to go into the same inns.

At dinner, he managed to grab the table behind the dame's. He was about to sit down in the place that would allow him to observe her well, but the dame met his gaze. Her glance was enough to stop him.

He knew he had been discovered, but he did not care.

He had prepared himself for this moment.

Instead of yelling or attacking him, the dame invited him to join her. Aruki hesitated for a moment, taken aback by her delicate demeanor. Finally, he decided to take the empty seat in front of her.

“What are your reasons for following me?”

She looked at him intently, without hesitation.

“You don’t remember me,” he said.

There was no sign in the look she gave him that she had recognized him.

The dame lowered her gaze, looking sorry. “No, I beg your pardon.”

“Take a better look,” he ordered, advancing toward her across the table.

The dame raised a hand, signaling to the two apprentices standing behind her that they were not to intervene.

“I am watching you, boy,” her tone was uncompromising. Their eyes studied each other, trying to find something in the other’s face. Aruki had to accept that she didn’t see anything familiar in him.

“It’s been many years, I guess,” he forced himself to say.

He ignored the desire to kill her right then. This wasn’t how he had imagined his revenge. He had to stay calm, be patient, and get it as he had planned.

How dare she not remember him? She had ruined his life! She had destroyed all hope inside him, leaving him empty and suffering.

“I danced for you,” he explained. “Back then, you were traveling to find your apprentices, and I didn’t have a name yet.”

The dame’s eyes gradually grew larger, and surprise parted her lips in a smile. “Now I remember! Oh, Goddess! The boy who ran away from home…” She shook her head, incredulous that she hadn’t recognized him immediately. “How you’ve grown! I see you’re in excellent health.”

Her interest annoyed Aruki, who was tempted to hit her in the face to take away her happy smile. She had no right to be happy. Happiness was an emotion she had taken away from him.

“What’s your name?”

It had to be another manipulation tactic. But Aruki had grown up, he wouldn’t let her fool him again. Her interest was a pretense. A futile attempt to ease his hatred, to make him change his mind.

She wouldn’t succeed.

Aruki would see it through. He deserved it.

“Aruki.”

Her smile flickered. “What a curious name,” she said. “You still live with…”

Aruki interrupted her: “They’re dead.”

“Oh… My deepest condolences.”

Aruki had little use for her condolences. “How long will you be in this village?” He was tired of wasting time.

“Just a couple more days.”

“Are you looking for apprentices?” he asked, curious.

His gaze shifted to examine the two girls behind the dame. They were a few years older than him, both of their bodies looked powerful, and those sharp swords at their sides were not for display.

The dame gave him a soft smile as if she thought he was joking. “No, I’m too old to take on any more apprentices.”

Without moving his gaze from the apprentice to her right, Aruki asked, “Are you planning on passing your Blessing to one of them?”

He waited the seconds it took for his words to sink in. When he looked back at the dame, her expression had hardened. “That’s not how it works,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And I think you already know that.”

Aruki was happy with the direction the conversation was taking. He reveled in the tension that was building between them. “Can you guess why I’m here talking to you, Daughter of Blood?”

She didn’t look down, as he had expected. She didn’t even give him the pleasure of hearing an answer. The dame remained impassive, waiting for him to speak.

“Revenge,” he revealed.

“Revenge…” she repeated, not understanding why that term was connected to her.

“You manipulated me,” he said, annoyed that she was still denying it.

“Manipulate you?” She cocked her head to the side and placed her clasped hands on the table.

She was making fun of him, loving to see him give in to anger. He wouldn’t let it happen. Those games didn’t work on him anymore. “Let me challenge you to death.”

“Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I tried,” I replied. “I told her it was a challenge she wouldn’t win. I asked her to delegate it to one of her apprentices, who had a better chance than her. But she didn't listen.”

I didn’t like to think back to that day.

“I watched their fight with interest,” I explained. “Until it became clear that my Blessed was losing. Again, I begged her to back down.”

“Couldn’t you have just intervened?”

“No, just as I couldn’t do for you.”

Why? You still couldn’t understand it.

I was such a powerful goddess, yet I couldn’t kill a mere living being?

Aruki was younger and faster. Normally, that wouldn’t have been enough against one of my Blessed, but he also had the power granted by that fool who called himself “God of Chaos.” And not just any power…

“Who is the ‘God of Chaos’?”

“I know,” I said. “That’s an embarrassing name, isn’t it? He deserved the end I gave him just because of that stupid name he chose.”

“I don’t understand…”

I stopped and looked at you. Your confused expression was amusing. “I skipped a bit, you asked me, remember? You didn’t want to know all the details.”

You clutched your cup. “Well, I guess I’m interested in knowing if the man who wants me dead has a god helping him.”

“That one is irrelevant now.”

“I think it’s up to me to judge if…”

“Diana, he’s dead.”

Your expression demanded more information.

“I killed him,” I explained. “I cut off his head and took his blood.”

That was enough to shut you up.

Aruki won.

Surrounded by the cries of the people who had come to see their fight and facing the terrified looks of the two apprentices, Aruki devoured her heart with enjoyment.

He felt my Blessing slip into him, settle in his blood, and become a part of him.

But the death of the dame did not satisfy him.

Aruki returned to his master, who convinced him to keep going. His search for power could not stop there. There were other women and girls to whom I had granted my Blessing. Aruki just had to find them, until one day he was strong enough to reach me.

"Is that what he wants? You?"

"The whole universe wants me, darling."

Thinking it was a bad joke, you frowned.

"How did he manage to find me?"

Chapter Text

“Before you, he found another girl,” said the Goddess.

Diana was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable. She wanted to leave, to escape from the emotions she was feeling. For a moment, she had been so happy! The Goddess’s story had extinguished the spark of her joy.

“How?” she asked, urging her to finish the story.

“Aruki reached a nearby world inhabited by other humans.”

What made them human if they did not inhabit Earth? Maybe they had moved from Earth. She immediately understood that it was impossible. It would be exceptional news if the human race could reach distant and habitable planets. It would end up in every newspaper and social media, no one would stop talking about it for months.

There must have been a mistake. Or maybe the Goddess had chosen that term to make her understand that she was talking about humanoid-looking aliens. This explanation satisfied Diana's curiosity.

“There, he practiced with his acquired power, discovering some of its secrets. He met other people who had the information he wanted,” she continued to tell. “In this way, he discovered a connection between me and each of my Blessings.”

The Goddess stopped to reach down and pick up some sand, which she placed on the table. Diana helped to move the cups and teapot, thus opening her view.

“You must imagine this connection as a spider web,” she explained, “at the center of it is my consciousness. My 'I' is connected to yours. It is a binary road, allowing me to reach you and you to reach me.”

“Did he manage to access you?”

“For a few seconds,” she replied. Her gaze carefully assessed the spider web she was creating by moving the sand. “He moved immediately.” Her finger followed one of the lines of the spider web. “He reached another Blessed. He discovered her name, where she lived, and what she could do.”

Diana shivered.

“He tried to reach her planet using the power he had stolen. But he couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

The Goddess looked up at the sky and smiled, pleased. “Because each of your worlds is protected, sealed by a spell that prevents access from the outside.”

Diana leaned forward. “So how did he get to me?” What the Goddess was saying didn’t make any sense.

The Goddess held up two fingers. “There are two types of portals to cross space: natural ones, which as the name suggests were created by nature itself, by the universe we might say; and artificial ones, created using magic. In the latter, space is torn apart. My Blessing allowed the dame to tear reality and walk through it.”

Diana sat back in her chair, understanding for herself what had happened. “The spell only prevents artificial portals, not natural ones, and he found one to reach her. He killed her and then came to me.”

The Goddess did not need to confirm. “Do you want to know how he managed to get hold of her Blessing?”

Diana nodded, looking down.

“He kidnapped the people she loved. In her grief, she gave him her heart.”

Diana bit her lower lip, making it bleed. She didn’t want that future for herself.

She let go of her lip, realizing an inconsistency in the story.

“He didn’t know who I was at first,” she argued. “He came looking for me.”

The Goddess cocked her head to the side, watching her carefully. Her expression seemed satisfied as if Diana had passed another test. “Because the connection between us is fragile,” she explained. “I made it so after he used it to find my other Blessed. I had to protect you. That’s why I can’t help you any more than I already do.”

“In the end, he found me anyway,” she pointed out. “So didn’t it make sense for you to use that same connection to kill him?”

The Goddess fell silent.

Diana laughed.

“I can’t,” she said. “The spell also prevents me from entering these worlds.”

There was more the Goddess wasn’t revealing. Diana wondered how far she could go to steal the information she wanted.

“And yet you’re here.”

The Goddess looked back to the sea. The waves were pounding on the sand. Diana had noticed there wasn’t a single bird in the sky.

“And where are we exactly?” the Goddess asked.

Diana grimaced. “How am I supposed to know?”

The Goddess chuckled, and Diana felt mocked. “You came here through a natural portal, Diana. One that took you to a world I can access.”

“That time in the woods… It was a natural portal?”

“Yes.” She picked up the sand and slid it to the ground. “He also found one.”

Diana listened silently.

“It opens every thirteen months and stays open differently each time. Sometimes for three days, sometimes for a week, sometimes for a few hours. It’s the only portal he knows about.”

Diana shrugged. “Do you think he could find the ones we used?”

“He could, but I don’t think he needs to.”

More questions formed in Diana’s head that she couldn’t explain. “Why can’t you use these natural portals and kill him?”

“I can’t,” she insisted. “I’d like to sit here and explain in detail how the portals work and why the spell that surrounds your planet prevents me from entering, but I can’t stay here much longer.”

“How convenient for you,” she said softly. “As soon as I ask a question you do not wish to answer, you flee.”

The Goddess threw her head back. She pushed her throne aside and stood up. “Oh, Diana,” she said in a melodious voice. “I am not fleeing.”

Diana was about to order her to answer. The Goddess raised a hand, stopping her.

“They are waiting for you,” she reminded her. “And your men are impatient.”

“They…” A lump formed in her throat. “They are not my men,” she objected weakly.

The Goddess raised her eyebrows, not believing her.

Diana pushed her chair back. “One last question,” she begged. Perhaps the Goddess did not want to answer the previous one, but Diana hoped she would at least hear this one. “Why did you choose them?”

“I did not choose them to die.”

Diana closed her eyes and sighed in relief. It wasn’t exactly the answer to her question, but it was the one she needed.

“You should go,” the Goddess urged.

As Diana stepped away from the table, it disappeared into thin air, leaving no sign that it had ever existed.

Diana met the Goddess’s cold eyes and looked at her faint smile in annoyance. “Where are we going next?”

The Goddess raised her chin. “Look at your hands.”

Diana pressed her palms together, studying them carefully. Her skin changed color as if she were receiving a tattoo in real-time. “A rising sun?” she deduced, interpreting the design.

“What country once had the sun in its flag and still has it in its name?”

“Japan*?”

The Goddess nodded. “Go to the shrine where the fourteen are still worshiped.”

Diana’s eyes widened, recognizing immediately what the Goddess was referring to. She had read a book a while ago, out of curiosity, after watching a documentary that mentioned Japan’s war crimes during World War II.

She turned to leave but stopped after a few steps. “Anything else I should know?”

“No,” the Goddess said. “Go.”

Diana ran toward the rock wall. She turned around just before she could reach it, curious to see if the Goddess was still there. Her gaze swept across the beach, unable to find her familiar figure.

She slowed to a walk. She had to calm herself, push away the emotions she was feeling, and focus on one thing: victory. She had won and had been given another destination to reach.

She took a few deep breaths and patted her cheeks. “Smiling, proud, victorious.” Those were the emotions she had chosen to show.

She placed a hand on the rock. Recognizing her, the wall opened.

The four men didn’t even give her time to step forward. They rushed at her, peppering her with questions or grabbing her face and limbs to check her condition.

“I’m fine!” she had to shout, trying to push her way through them. “I’m alive, I’m fine, I won! Can we go back to the surface and forget about this shitty lake, please?”

Siva grabbed her wrist. “Wait, let me heal you.”

Diana took his hand, opening his fingers to free herself. She forced a smile, reassuring and believable. “These are superficial, I’ll recover even without your help.” She looked at the others. “Let’s go.”

She turned and began to walk purposefully. As soon as she heard the heavy footsteps of her men, she spun around and began to walk backward, now confident that her instincts would save her if necessary. By the time she had completed the challenge, the ground was back to normal, no strange rocks in sight.

“What are we going to do to celebrate tonight?” she asked, looking at each of them. “I was thinking about a nice dinner and a long night’s sleep.”

“You don’t want to go out drinking?” Spider asked, surprised that she hadn’t suggested it herself.

Diana held up her palms. “You suggested it, not me.”

“After last time,” Yoo said, looking Spider up and down. “I thought everyone knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

Diana waved a hand. “You’re so boring.”

She got a glare, not just annoyed, but offended.

“But I get that you old people don’t have the energy to go out that often,” she joked, lingering her gaze on Whiskey for a bit longer. “We can get some bottles of spirits from the supermarket and party in the apartment, if you want.”

“Drinking all that alcohol is bad for your body,” Yoo reminded her, quickening his pace to stay close to her.

Diana gestured something that meant “What a drag you are!”.

They reached the edge of the cave. Diana started to jump in, but Whiskey placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you deserve to go out drinking?” he asked.

His fingers trailed down her arm, warming her as her mind relived what they had done the day before. She swallowed. “Yes. I won, so I deserve it.”

Spider, hands on his hips, approached them. Diana wondered what had happened between the two men after she had fled to the bedroom.

“Do you know where we have to go now?”

“Maybe we should wait to celebrate,” Siva said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do it when we reach the next destination and put as much distance as possible between us and the men looking for you.”

Diana thought about it. Although his argument made sense, she needed to let off steam and have fun for at least one evening. At the same time, she still remembered too well how bad the last time had gone.

“Japan,” she revealed. “Tokyo. There's a Shinto shrine we have to visit.”

“Really?” Yoo asked.

Diana nodded.

“Why do we have to go there?” Spider rubbed his chin, and Diana noticed that his beard was starting to grow back.

“I don’t know, but the riddle was clear.”

“What riddle?” Whiskey asked. His hand was still lingering on Diana’s bicep.

She repeated it for them. From their confused expressions, she knew she had to explain. “In this shrine, which is called Yasukuni, there is a Book of Souls that contains the names of many war criminals, fourteen of whom have committed crimes against peace.”

She paused before going into a long monologue in which she would blurt out all the information she had. She glanced at Yoo, wondering how much he knew about the Comfort Women, and concluded that he was probably the more knowledgeable between them.

“We need to go there,” she continued. “I don’t think it has anything to do with the shrine itself, but more with nature or the place it was built on.”

“What do you mean?” Spider and the others didn’t seem to follow her reasoning.

Diana wondered how much she could tell them about magic and how it worked. Would they freak out if she told them about the portals?

“That’s something to discuss over a glass of wine,” she said, sitting on the floor and putting her feet in the cold water. “I’ll answer everything tonight! But first, I have to take a shower.”

*Japan = 日本 -> 日 = sun

Chapter Text

“Before you, he found another girl,” said the Goddess.

Diana was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable. She wanted to leave, to escape from the emotions she was feeling. For a moment, she had been so happy! The Goddess’s story had extinguished the spark of her joy.

“How?” she asked, urging her to finish the story.

“Aruki reached a nearby world inhabited by other humans.”

What made them human if they did not inhabit Earth? Maybe they had moved from Earth. She immediately understood that it was impossible. It would be exceptional news if the human race could reach distant and habitable planets. It would end up in every newspaper and social media, no one would stop talking about it for months.

There must have been a mistake. Or maybe the Goddess had chosen that term to make her understand that she was talking about humanoid-looking aliens. This explanation satisfied Diana's curiosity.

“There, he practiced with his acquired power, discovering some of its secrets. He met other people who had the information he wanted,” she continued to tell. “In this way, he discovered a connection between me and each of my Blessings.”

The Goddess stopped to reach down and pick up some sand, which she placed on the table. Diana helped to move the cups and teapot, thus opening her view.

“You must imagine this connection as a spider web,” she explained, “at the center of it is my consciousness. My 'I' is connected to yours. It is a binary road, allowing me to reach you and you to reach me.”

“Did he manage to access you?”

“For a few seconds,” she replied. Her gaze carefully assessed the spider web she was creating by moving the sand. “He moved immediately.” Her finger followed one of the lines of the spider web. “He reached another Blessed. He discovered her name, where she lived, and what she could do.”

Diana shivered.

“He tried to reach her planet using the power he had stolen. But he couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

The Goddess looked up at the sky and smiled, pleased. “Because each of your worlds is protected, sealed by a spell that prevents access from the outside.”

Diana leaned forward. “So how did he get to me?” What the Goddess was saying didn’t make any sense.

The Goddess held up two fingers. “There are two types of portals to cross space: natural ones, which as the name suggests were created by nature itself, by the universe we might say; and artificial ones, created using magic. In the latter, space is torn apart. My Blessing allowed the dame to tear reality and walk through it.”

Diana sat back in her chair, understanding for herself what had happened. “The spell only prevents artificial portals, not natural ones, and he found one to reach her. He killed her and then came to me.”

The Goddess did not need to confirm. “Do you want to know how he managed to get hold of her Blessing?”

Diana nodded, looking down.

“He kidnapped the people she loved. In her grief, she gave him her heart.”

Diana bit her lower lip, making it bleed. She didn’t want that future for herself.

She let go of her lip, realizing an inconsistency in the story.

“He didn’t know who I was at first,” she argued. “He came looking for me.”

The Goddess cocked her head to the side, watching her carefully. Her expression seemed satisfied as if Diana had passed another test. “Because the connection between us is fragile,” she explained. “I made it so after he used it to find my other Blessed. I had to protect you. That’s why I can’t help you any more than I already do.”

“In the end, he found me anyway,” she pointed out. “So didn’t it make sense for you to use that same connection to kill him?”

The Goddess fell silent.

Diana laughed.

“I can’t,” she said. “The spell also prevents me from entering these worlds.”

There was more the Goddess wasn’t revealing. Diana wondered how far she could go to steal the information she wanted.

“And yet you’re here.”

The Goddess looked back to the sea. The waves were pounding on the sand. Diana had noticed there wasn’t a single bird in the sky.

“And where are we exactly?” the Goddess asked.

Diana grimaced. “How am I supposed to know?”

The Goddess chuckled, and Diana felt mocked. “You came here through a natural portal, Diana. One that took you to a world I can access.”

“That time in the woods… It was a natural portal?”

“Yes.” She picked up the sand and slid it to the ground. “He also found one.”

Diana listened silently.

“It opens every thirteen months and stays open differently each time. Sometimes for three days, sometimes for a week, sometimes for a few hours. It’s the only portal he knows about.”

Diana shrugged. “Do you think he could find the ones we used?”

“He could, but I don’t think he needs to.”

More questions formed in Diana’s head that she couldn’t explain. “Why can’t you use these natural portals and kill him?”

“I can’t,” she insisted. “I’d like to sit here and explain in detail how the portals work and why the spell that surrounds your planet prevents me from entering, but I can’t stay here much longer.”

“How convenient for you,” she said softly. “As soon as I ask a question you do not wish to answer, you flee.”

The Goddess threw her head back. She pushed her throne aside and stood up. “Oh, Diana,” she said in a melodious voice. “I am not fleeing.”

Diana was about to order her to answer. The Goddess raised a hand, stopping her.

“They are waiting for you,” she reminded her. “And your men are impatient.”

“They…” A lump formed in her throat. “They are not my men,” she objected weakly.

The Goddess raised her eyebrows, not believing her.

Diana pushed her chair back. “One last question,” she begged. Perhaps the Goddess did not want to answer the previous one, but Diana hoped she would at least hear this one. “Why did you choose them?”

“I did not choose them to die.”

Diana closed her eyes and sighed in relief. It wasn’t exactly the answer to her question, but it was the one she needed.

“You should go,” the Goddess urged.

As Diana stepped away from the table, it disappeared into thin air, leaving no sign that it had ever existed.

Diana met the Goddess’s cold eyes and looked at her faint smile in annoyance. “Where are we going next?”

The Goddess raised her chin. “Look at your hands.”

Diana pressed her palms together, studying them carefully. Her skin changed color as if she were receiving a tattoo in real-time. “A rising sun?” she deduced, interpreting the design.

“What country once had the sun in its flag and still has it in its name?”

“Japan*?”

The Goddess nodded. “Go to the shrine where the fourteen are still worshiped.”

Diana’s eyes widened, recognizing immediately what the Goddess was referring to. She had read a book a while ago, out of curiosity, after watching a documentary that mentioned Japan’s war crimes during World War II.

She turned to leave but stopped after a few steps. “Anything else I should know?”

“No,” the Goddess said. “Go.”

Diana ran toward the rock wall. She turned around just before she could reach it, curious to see if the Goddess was still there. Her gaze swept across the beach, unable to find her familiar figure.

She slowed to a walk. She had to calm herself, push away the emotions she was feeling, and focus on one thing: victory. She had won and had been given another destination to reach.

She took a few deep breaths and patted her cheeks. “Smiling, proud, victorious.” Those were the emotions she had chosen to show.

She placed a hand on the rock. Recognizing her, the wall opened.

The four men didn’t even give her time to step forward. They rushed at her, peppering her with questions or grabbing her face and limbs to check her condition.

“I’m fine!” she had to shout, trying to push her way through them. “I’m alive, I’m fine, I won! Can we go back to the surface and forget about this shitty lake, please?”

Siva grabbed her wrist. “Wait, let me heal you.”

Diana took his hand, opening his fingers to free herself. She forced a smile, reassuring and believable. “These are superficial, I’ll recover even without your help.” She looked at the others. “Let’s go.”

She turned and began to walk purposefully. As soon as she heard the heavy footsteps of her men, she spun around and began to walk backward, now confident that her instincts would save her if necessary. By the time she had completed the challenge, the ground was back to normal, no strange rocks in sight.

“What are we going to do to celebrate tonight?” she asked, looking at each of them. “I was thinking about a nice dinner and a long night’s sleep.”

“You don’t want to go out drinking?” Spider asked, surprised that she hadn’t suggested it herself.

Diana held up her palms. “You suggested it, not me.”

“After last time,” Yoo said, looking Spider up and down. “I thought everyone knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

Diana waved a hand. “You’re so boring.”

She got a glare, not just annoyed, but offended.

“But I get that you old people don’t have the energy to go out that often,” she joked, lingering her gaze on Whiskey for a bit longer. “We can get some bottles of spirits from the supermarket and party in the apartment, if you want.”

“Drinking all that alcohol is bad for your body,” Yoo reminded her, quickening his pace to stay close to her.

Diana gestured something that meant “What a drag you are!”.

They reached the edge of the cave. Diana started to jump in, but Whiskey placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you deserve to go out drinking?” he asked.

His fingers trailed down her arm, warming her as her mind relived what they had done the day before. She swallowed. “Yes. I won, so I deserve it.”

Spider, hands on his hips, approached them. Diana wondered what had happened between the two men after she had fled to the bedroom.

“Do you know where we have to go now?”

“Maybe we should wait to celebrate,” Siva said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do it when we reach the next destination and put as much distance as possible between us and the men looking for you.”

Diana thought about it. Although his argument made sense, she needed to let off steam and have fun for at least one evening. At the same time, she still remembered too well how bad the last time had gone.

“Japan,” she revealed. “Tokyo. There's a Shinto shrine we have to visit.”

“Really?” Yoo asked.

Diana nodded.

“Why do we have to go there?” Spider rubbed his chin, and Diana noticed that his beard was starting to grow back.

“I don’t know, but the riddle was clear.”

“What riddle?” Whiskey asked. His hand was still lingering on Diana’s bicep.

She repeated it for them. From their confused expressions, she knew she had to explain. “In this shrine, which is called Yasukuni, there is a Book of Souls that contains the names of many war criminals, fourteen of whom have committed crimes against peace.”

She paused before going into a long monologue in which she would blurt out all the information she had. She glanced at Yoo, wondering how much he knew about the Comfort Women, and concluded that he was probably the more knowledgeable between them.

“We need to go there,” she continued. “I don’t think it has anything to do with the shrine itself, but more with nature or the place it was built on.”

“What do you mean?” Spider and the others didn’t seem to follow her reasoning.

Diana wondered how much she could tell them about magic and how it worked. Would they freak out if she told them about the portals?

“That’s something to discuss over a glass of wine,” she said, sitting on the floor and putting her feet in the cold water. “I’ll answer everything tonight! But first, I have to take a shower.”

Chapter Text

Ghost was leaning against a tree, his eyes had been fixed on the lake for hours. For all he knew, they could all be dead. Drowned beneath the surface of the lake. Or worse, it could have been a trap and they had been captured. It was unlikely because if someone suspicious had entered the water, he would have noticed. But when it came to that little girl, Ghost had learned to never let his guard down and to expect anything.

It wasn’t agitation he was feeling. It was boredom. A visceral hatred for the long, nerve-wracking waits.

He cared about the safety of his teammates and the girl only for practicality and duty. He certainly wasn’t worried because he cared about them.

He was too experienced not to know how wrong it was to start caring about his teammates. He had lost too many to not know that.

He pulled the girl’s phone out of his pocket, looking at the screen to check the time again. They had arrived there shortly after noon and it was already getting dark. He thought back to what had happened the last time Diana had been in the lake. Her expression had seemed crazy, the look of someone unable to admit that she needed help.

He had immediately regretted pushing her, but as always she had managed to touch a sore spot and stir it. If they hadn’t been able to reason with her, Ghost would have ended up picking her up and dragging her away from the cave.

If he were to think again about what Whiskey had said to her, Ghost agreed with the girl. Keeping people away was better. A wise choice that would ultimately save everyone’s sanity.

The death of a stranger always hurts less.

Ghost stared at the lake, with worry. He had to admit it to himself. Not knowing what was happening down there was worrying him. Was Diana self-destructing again or had she managed to complete the challenge? He hoped with all his heart that it was the latter, even though a part of him would have hated to miss the sight of her victory.

He imagined Diana smiling and throwing her arms in the air as she announced that she had won. Surely, her face would light up like a lantern.

But his concern had to remain purely professional. A matter of safety.

Ghost had to stop thinking of her that way. It was wrong, out of question, crazy. And stupid. Ghost wasn’t stupid.

He looked down at his gloved hands. He still remembered the feeling of touching her skin the first night they had spent in the same bed.

In the last few nights, he had preferred to sleep far away from her, so as not to give in to any temptation.

Diana was dangerous.

The attraction she spread around her was exhausting. As if she were the magnet and they were the iron. Ghost was sure his teammates felt the same or, at least, in a similar tone.

Was it related to her strange power? Blessing, he corrected himself. Perhaps they, common earthlings, were drawn to the magic or the sacredness of her power. He could find no better or more coherent explanation.

For Siva, however, he did not feel the same. Even though he was the one of his teammates who bothered him the least. Siva listened and obeyed unless there were serious objections. And he was silent.

Ghost didn't have to listen to him blather. Ghost felt no attraction towards him. Only for Diana and with an intensity that he had never seemed to feel.

It had to be the fault of the deity who had granted her the blessing.

Ghost's eyes widened, realizing he was starting to talk like a madman. But there was a lot of evidence of what Diana had told them. Why would she lie about the Goddess?

Unless she was schizophrenic or some other mental illness that Ghost did not know about. He would wait to see the Goddess himself before believing in her existence without reservations.

But if the Goddess was not real, why was he attracted to Diana?

Ghost preferred to choose to believe in a strange deity. At least, he could blame her for the emotions he was feeling.

He looked back at the lake and narrowed his eyes, realizing he could see tiny figures in the distance. He moved closer to the shore to get a better look. It was a few more minutes before he could confirm it was them.

The little girl had raised a hand in a vigorous wave.

Ghost relaxed, his agitation gone. They were all still alive and she looked happy. Had she done it?

He didn’t ask. But he helped her out of the water. He examined the exposed parts of her body for cuts or bruises. He saw few.

He cupped her smiling face between his fingers, continuing to inspect her. Diana placed a wet hand on his arm and her smile widened. Her eyes curved in happiness that left him speechless.

“I did it!”

Ghost let go of her. “Good job.”

Diana nodded, pleased with herself. “It was a team effort,” she said, turning to watch the others leave the lake. “Whiskey and Yoo gave me the idea that allowed me to win.”

Ghost looked at his teammates. They were all tired, but Diana’s happiness lightened their thoughts and gazes.

Siva walked past her to get his clothes. “That was weird,” he whispered, passing Ghost as well.

“Weird how?” he questioned.

“She started singing and dancing,” Spider replied, while taking off his shirt.

Diana’s gaze slid down his sculpted body. It lasted a few seconds, then her eyes quickly returned to the sky. But Ghost noticed the small change in her expression that could be described as “mischievousness.”

“That was fun,” she said.

“Just for you,” Whiskey told her, crouching to gather his stuff. When he took off his shirt, Diana's gaze was drawn to his torso again. And again, it lingered there for a moment.

Ghost was tempted to put his hand over her eyes. Since they were all adults, he decided against it. Because even though she was acting childish and they treated her like a naughty child, she was still an adult. An adult who had probably seen a naked man before and been with one.

Or maybe not.

Diana watched the men around her change for a few seconds. Her happiness weakened, threatened by a bit of barely contained embarrassment. She swayed on her feet, standing in front of her pile of clothes.

Diana had admitted to hating men before. Ghost could now deduce that she had never been with one. It certainly wasn’t because there hadn’t been an opportunity. He imagined there was a row of broken hearts behind her.

He wouldn’t be among them.

He thought back to their kiss, wondering if he had noticed anything strange. Diana had remained still, paralyzed with surprise. Ghost had had complete control of the kiss. At first, he thought it was just because she was drunk and caught off guard.

What if it was her first kiss? No, that wasn’t possible.

He was wasting his time thinking about the past.

He waited until his teammates had changed. He listened to their story, almost disappointed that he had missed the girl’s show.

Ghost found almost impossible to believe them: it made no sense, how could Diana win the challenge by dancing and singing?

Diana, who was walking beside him as they walked back to the car, explained her theory. “The challenge was made for me. The purpose was to train my instincts. I don’t know if they’re better than a normal person’s, but the point is that I had to learn to listen and trust them blindly. When I tried to face the challenge, I’ve always been too rigid and vigilant. I didn’t just let my body act. It was all under the control of anxiety and fear.” Her hand gestures emphasized her story. Ghost thought the stereotypes about Italians were partly true. “Dancing and singing… By putting myself in the role that Whiskey had given me, I think I freed myself from fear. I was free to listen to my instincts and put them to work.”

“Does that mean you’ll be dancing every time you need to use your instincts from now on?” Spider asked.

Diana turned to look at him. “No, even though it would be fun.”

“It’s not practical,” Yoo said. “You need to learn to free your instincts without resorting to singing and dancing.”

“I know,” Diana said, almost exasperated. “But it’s not easy. I mean, guys, give me some time!”

“Before the next challenge, you can practice,” Whiskey noted.

“We can't stop,” she reminded him.

“We won’t be flying to Japan in a heartbeat, Diana,” he replied, giving her a meaningful look.

“You think we need a visa?” she asked.

No one answered her.

“Besides, we have to be careful,” Spider said. “There’s people still looking for us.”

A single face appeared in Ghost’s mind.

Colonel Foster.

He still remembered the pleasure he had felt watching him get demoted and shipped off. But he remembered even more the look he had given him. It had been a promise. Foster would ruin, destroy, and kill Ghost.

Ghost had once been ready to accept his revenge.

He hadn’t expected to see him again during this mission. It was a problem. Diana was in even more danger. Ghost had seen with his own eyes the violence of that man.

Did the ex-colonel know that Ghost was protecting her? He hoped not and wished he never found out, or they might all be done for.

He shifted his gaze to the little girl still walking beside him. When they had recovered her, Ghost had noticed, beyond the thousand bullet holes, two long knife wounds in her thighs. She had never told them how she had gotten them. Or who had done it to her. Knowing the ex-colonel, Ghost came to only one conclusion.

He clenched his fists, feeling a rush of rage that could only be released by smashing that man’s face.

They could have set a trap, using Diana as bait and lure the assholes looking for her. They would have killed them all. Ghost looked at his teammates, thinking that they would have accepted more than willingly.

Before proposing that plan, he should have created an effective strategy and been clear about every step. They couldn’t risk their girl’s safety just because their rage was blinding them.

“So,” Diana said loudly, trying to draw everyone’s attention to herself. “Shall we buy some alcohol and cards before going back to the apartment?”

They had already reached the car. Ghost took out the keys and felt old. He no longer had the energy to keep up with a twenty-year-old girl.

Yoo started to object, but Diana pointed a finger at him. “I won’t take any arguments,” she said, smiling. “It’s my money, so it’s up to me how I use it.”

Whiskey looked her over. “I think we have a say in this, too, since we’re the ones who have to take care of you when you’re drunk.”

Diana leaned back against the car door. “I know you like taking care of me, don’t lie.” Malice dripped from her voice.

Whiskey stared at her without saying anything, and Ghost thought they were communicating through their eyes. Diana’s smile widened, and she was the first to look away.

“You could get drunk with me so that we can fill the apartment with our vomit and no one has to take care of anyone,” she suggested.

“That’s the worst idea you ever had,” Spider said.

Diana mimicked him, repeating in a low voice what he had just said. Spider glared at her, but she didn't seem to pay attention. "My vote is worth six points, so we're six to five and I win. Tonight we play cards and drink!"

She turned and opened the door, climbing in at the back.

In order not to ruin her festive mood, the five mercenaries decided to indulge her.

Chapter Text

Oscar wasn't happy. Sitting in the back seat, he was watching Diana singing at the top of her lungs. She reached out to hit Ghost's shoulder while he was driving. Her joy hadn't rubbed off on Oscar, who was watching them in annoyance.

She shouldn't have been so open with Ghost. He didn't deserve it.

He had abandoned them and then come back as if nothing had happened. The worst part was that no one was saying anything. The others seemed to have forgiven him for that betrayal with extreme ease.

Oscar, on the other hand, hadn't stopped thinking about it.

Especially when he saw Diana approaching him. He wanted to grab her and take her away. But he held back, knowing that it would scare and annoy her.

He was therefore forced to stay aside and stare at Ghost, planning how to separate them without creating a scene and how to tell her. He believed Diana would react strongly when she found out that Ghost had abandoned them. When they reached their new apartment, they got out of the car. Diana stretched her arms upward. “I’ll be the one driving next time,” she announced, turning to face them, smiling.

“Do you even have a driver’s license?” Yoo asked, surprised that she had suggested that.

Diana fidgeted. “Of course, I have a driver’s license! How do you think I made it to the station when I ran away?” No one answered, as if they weren’t willing to remember that fateful day. Diana continued, “I got it shortly after I turned eighteen. I was at the top of my class.” She pointed to her chest proudly. “And I’m good at driving, too.” All she got were skeptical looks that infuriated her. “Your gender bias disgusts me. I swear, I’ll show you what I can do!”

Ghost grabbed her head, his gloved palm pressed against her hair, and spun her around, making her face the door of the building. “You’re not driving.”

“Why the hell not?”

Whiskey walked past her, stopping in front of the door to open it with the only set of keys they had. “Because we don't need you to.”

Diana was quick to object. “Siva has never driven before, I can take his turn.”

“We’re not taking turns,” Yoo said.

Realizing that she wasn’t going to win with them, Diana crossed her arms. “You guys are difficult, really. Unbearable!”

There were insults uttered under her breath in Italian. From her expressions, Oscar could tell she was repeating their words, adding colorful curses. Whiskey gave her a stern, admonishing look, and Siva seemed surprised at what he was hearing. Oscar tightened his grip on the bags of groceries they had filled, wishing he could also speak Italian. Knowing Spanish, he thought it would be easier to understand her, but he soon realized they were still two separate languages.

They entered the apartment and Oscar left the bags on the table. Diana rushed to the bottles of alcohol they had bought. Whiskey came around her from behind, grabbing both her wrists in one hand to prevent her from taking the bottles. “After dinner,” he said.

Diana rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to put them away.”

Whiskey let go of her, still standing very close. “Sure,” he said, ironically.

Whiskey could deny it all he wanted, but Oscar was sure that something had happened between them. They had been locked in the bathroom for too long. And when they came out, Diana had seemed out of breath and embarrassed. Oscar had even noticed Whiskey’s erection, held back by his tight pants.

He wasn’t stupid.

They had kissed. He hoped that was all that had happened.

He could have talked about it in front of the others, but he didn’t want to get Whiskey in trouble. That didn’t mean he would let him be alone with her a second time. He would keep an eye on them like he was doing with Ghost.

He had to wait for the right moment to make his first move.

After setting up everything, Diana told them that she was going to take a shower and rest. The group split up and each went to do their own thing. Oscar chose to smoke a cigarette on the balcony and then take a quick shower. When he was done, he went to Diana’s room. Hoping she was alone, he knocked on the door.

He heard her voice warning him she was coming. He waited a few minutes, which he spent preparing what he was going to say. Diana came to open the door for him.

Her pungent scent filled his nostrils. It smelled of maple honey. Oscar assumed it was the shampoo she had bought. He looked her over carefully, from her still-wet hair to her bare feet. He tried not to stare at them for too long.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"What do you need?"

Oscar looked around. The hallway was empty, no one was looking at them and she seemed alone. "Can we talk? I won't keep you long. I promise."

Diana scratched her cheek, looking thoughtful. "Okay," she said. Oscar thought she was getting nervous.

He chose not to reassure her. He wanted her to be nervous.

He waited for her to step back before he entered and closed the door behind him. He looked around the room to waste time. The bedroom Diana had chosen was large, with basic furniture. The enormous double bed made Oscar think she was incapable of sleeping alone. He wondered how she was used to sleep in her own house. The bed had been filled with clothes and still-damp towels. Oscar felt the need to put away her stuff. Instead, he chose to go to the bedside table and run a hand over the surface to see if there was any dust.

“So? What did you want to talk about?” she asked, urging him to get to the point.

Diana had remained near the door, on the other side of the room. She walked to the foot of the bed and picked up her black hoodie, which she folded.

“I don’t think you should be so friendly with Ghost,” he blurted out quickly, before changing his mind.

Diana’s hands stopped working. “Why?” She looked at him suspiciously.

Oscar could tell he was looking like a mad or even a jealous man. “After you ran away, do you know what he did?” He slowly advanced toward her. Diana put her hoodie back on the bed. “No, I don’t.”

Oscar forced a fake smile. “Of course, you don’t know, you weren’t there.”

Diana stiffened. “Stop beating around the bush,” she ordered.

Oscar searched her hard eyes. “He left,” he said. “He went back to England.”

“What?” Diana didn’t seem to believe him. She shook her head.

Oscar took a few more steps toward her. “Ask the others,” he said. “They’ll all tell you the same thing. He betrayed us.”

Diana raised her hands, pointing at the door. “But he’s here!”

“Because he decided to come back,” he said with disgust. “He just showed up out of nowhere while we were saving you.”

“What’s your point, Oscar?”

He stopped. He wasn’t sure if she had called him by his name before or if it was the first time. He certainly didn’t like the tone she had used. As if she were the older, more mature one, rather than the other way around. He tried to calm down and control himself a little.

In those days, Oscar felt strange. It had all started after she had disappeared and had only gotten worse since they got back together. He couldn't explain what was happening to him.

"You can't get too close to him," he said in a weak voice. I don't want you to get close to him.

To be more specific, he didn't want her to get close to anyone. He would have preferred to always have her close to him, this way he could prevent her from leaving again.

Diana looked at him with a confused expression.

Oscar took a step towards her, adding: "He could betray us again. And we don't know what he did while he was gone. What if he got in touch with someone and now he's a spy?" He advanced further towards her until he could grab her shoulders. "What if he hurts you?"

Diana's eyes were wide and her face paled. She remained silent and Oscar knew that his words had finally entered her head.

He rubbed her arms, realizing that her skin was crawling. “You have to be careful,” he told her, moving his hands up to her shoulders again. There, he didn’t stop. He continued up, caressing her neck. “I can’t lose you,” he confessed in one breath.

Diana’s lips parted and she sighed.

Oscar lost himself in watching her lips, while his hands stopped around her face.

“What are you doing?” she asked, placing her hands on his chest.

What was he doing?

He stopped holding back. “A mistake.”

Their lips collided insistently. Oscar moved his hand to the back of Diana’s neck, to hold her better. He forced her lips apart and slipped his tongue into her mouth.

He had imagined this moment too many times. He wasn’t disappointed. She tasted as good as he had expected.

Diana gripped his shirt harder, trying to resist, but Oscar held her still. Suddenly, the heat in Diana’s mouth felt unbearable. He pulled away from her in time to be hit by her scream.

He was pushed back, hitting the wall. Dazed, he dropped to the floor.

“What the fuck! You can’t…” Diana lunged at him. She cupped his face, twisting his aching head. “Are you stupid?”

Oscar tried to stand up and push her hands off him.

This wasn’t how he had expected their first kiss to go.

“You kissed Whis…” his argument died as he heard the door to the room swing open. The other men ran into the room, guns drawn.

Diana turned her palms to them. “It’s okay, we’re just arguing!”

“Did he attack you?” Yoo asked, shouting and moving toward them.

Diana stood up. She glanced at Oscar, who was still sitting on the ground. “Emotionally, yes.”

Ghost stormed forward, shoving Siva out of the way. “What does that mean?”

Diana pointed a finger at him. “You better shut up! You have no right to pretend like you care.”

“Diana, what happened?” Whiskey snapped.

The atmosphere between them was becoming tense. Oscar could see it in the looks of his teammates, in their fists clenched around the weapons, and in their chests.

He forced himself to stand up, a hand on his hurting side. Even though the scream hadn’t been as loud as the last one that had hit him, Oscar felt dizzy. “I kissed her,” he confessed, looking directly into Whiskey’s eyes.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Oscar straightened and braced himself for the punches that were coming. He knew he deserved all of them.

Yoo was the first to move forward. He raised his gun and tried to use it to hit Oscar in the head.

Whiskey stepped in front of him, stopping him before he could reach Oscar.

“Get out of the way,” Yoo ordered, looking at their captain with wild eyes. “I'm going to kill him.”

“Calm down,” Whiskey replied, squeezing Yoo’s arm and preventing him from moving. “Diana, is that what happened?”

Diana, who had backed away and was looking at them with a frightened expression, chewed on her lower lip. “Yes.”

A wave of shame passed through Oscar. “She pushed me away.”

Diana’s eyes snapped to him, but Oscar was unable to meet them.

“You have to leave,” Siva announced. To advance toward him, he had to pass Ghost, who willingly stepped aside. “Not only is it your fault that Diana was captured, now this? You’re a problem!” He stopped in front of Oscar who was ready to face him.

“I know,” he said in a broken voice.

Siva grabbed his shirt, pulling him up and closer. “You’re lucky I let you live this long.”

Oscar’s skin crawled as Siva’s eyes turned red. His body froze, and he felt like prey playing dead so the predator wouldn’t attack.

Diana made a noise of frustration. When Oscar turned to her, she was clutching her hair. “I hate all of you!” she snarled, letting the locks fall. “There’s never a moment of fucking peace!” She looked at Siva. “Let him go. If Spider leaves, then Whiskey and Ghost have to go too.”

“What?”

Several voices rose at the same time.

Oscar looked at Ghost. “The night at the disco…” he muttered.

Ghost remained silent, his gaze fixed on the girl who hadn’t finished speaking. “This group sucks, but you were chosen for a reason,” she shouted firmly. “So no one can leave.” She rubbed her throat. “Now get the fuck out of my room!”

Chapter Text

Siva would have loved to destroy something or someone. He forced himself to let Oscar go, but only because Diana had asked him to. He stared at her intently but didn't move away from his enemy. He stayed close to him so that if he found any signs that Spider had harmed her, Siva would kill him right then.

None of them showed any indications of wanting to leave the room. Siva could feel the rapid, agitated heartbeats of his teammates, their muscles still stiff.

Yoo managed to free himself from Whiskey’s loosened grip. “We’re not leaving until we’ve resolved this.”

Diana pressed her palms against her closed eyelids. “There’s nothing to resolve!” she objected. “You just need to stay away from me.”

She took her hands away from her face, and Siva noticed that her eyes were getting red. She sniffed, rubbing her nose. Siva couldn’t understand why she looked like she was about to cry. Was it Spider’s fault? Had he scared and upset her by attacking her?

Siva turned to watch him again, confident he wouldn’t stop his rage.

“We can’t stay away from you,” Whiskey said, taking a step toward Diana. He reached out to her face, wanting to comfort her. Diana pulled back, hitting the back of her legs with the bed. He stopped, having realized she didn't want them near. The look she gave Whiskey was warning him to stop.

“We need to find a middle ground,” Yoo suggested. His gaze was still murderous, filled with a deep, dark fury. For the few seconds it rested on Diana, it was soft again, only to return to its full coldness once it found Whiskey’s. “You three are compromised and you should stay away from Diana.”

Whiskey smirked. “So you can stay close to her?” he asked, using a sly tone. “Don’t pretend to be innocent. We both know it's a farce.”

Yoo’s anger trembled, laced with what Siva thought was shame.

“What are you talking about?” Spider dared to ask.

Siva pushed him against the wall. “Don’t say a word,” he ordered, jabbing him. “Or I swear I’ll kill you.”

Ghost took a step toward him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she tried to push Siva away from their colleague. “Calm down.” Ghost tightened his grip until Siva turned to face him. “He’s no use to us dead.”

“Listen,” Diana shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention back. She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to change her mind. She shook her head. “Fuck this. I can’t have this conversation sober.”

She started toward the door, but Yoo grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “Drinking will hurt you.”

“So? It’s not like I’m any better off sober.” Diana tried to shake him off. Yoo held her tight and leaned in, looking at her sternly. “Maybe a little alcohol would make us all more relaxed and calm.”

“It would make things worse,” he insisted.

“Diana’s right,” Whiskey said. “A drink might do us a favor.”

Yoo glared at him. “No.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Ghost admitted, crossing his arms.

Siva held up his hands. “I don't care.” The alcohol from Earth had little effect on his system, so if he drank, it wouldn’t make any difference to him or his abilities.

Whiskey turned to the only one of them who hadn’t spoken yet. “Spider?”

Spider nodded, looking down.

“Good,” Diana said. She walked toward the door, and Yoo had to let her go.

Diana reached the kitchen first. Impatiently, she grabbed the two cases of beer they had put in the fridge and the other bottles that had been scattered around the shelves. She grabbed the neck of a rum bottle and took a long drink, ignoring the eyes watching her.

When she had finished and swallowed, she warned them with a disgusted grimace, “This is mine, don’t you dare touch it.”

None of them seemed inclined to do so. Everyone took something. Siva decided to try the beer Yoo and Ghost had chosen. He took a small sip, finding he didn’t mind the taste. It reminded him of an alcoholic beverage from his world, though the Earthly alcohol percentage was much lower. He wondered how the people around him would react if they tried the alcohol from his world. Diana might survive, but the others would surely die.

“What were you trying to say before?” Whiskey asked, shattering the silence that had fallen over them. His eyes were still on Diana, across the table from him.

Siva moved to one end of the table and grabbed another can of beer, confident that he would finish them both.

“The only solution is for you to be further away possible from me,” Diana explained. “Because you obviously can’t control your attraction to me.”

Siva was surprised that she had said it out loud. He watched her, taking in her rapid heartbeat and the flow of her blood, which was pooling on her cheeks. Diana took another sip, burning her throat.

“The attraction is obviously mutual,” Whiskey said, in a tone that Siva thought was offended.

Yoo glared at him. When he was ignored, he filled his mouth with beer, which he downed in one gulp.

Pointing a finger at Whiskey, Diana frowned, ready to insult him. “I just lost my only two father figures and I’m mentally unstable. What’s your excuse? Fucking, perverts…”

“Who’s the second one?” Spider asked, reminding Siva that he was still there. Siva barely restrained himself from using his power on him. He would have gladly blown out both of his eyes and set them on fire. Diana pulled back, realizing what she had said. “My uncle, but that’s irrelevant right now.”

“Maybe it is,” Yoo said, slamming the bottom of the can against the table.

“Excuse me, how?” she demanded to know. “I’m not the problem right now.”

“We can’t leave you alone, Diana,” Whiskey said. “It’s dangerous. Something could happen to you, you could be attacked without us knowing.”

Diana looked exaggeratedly bored. “Fine! Do what you want. I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, we can all sleep in the same room, that way you can make sure nothing happens.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Ghost admitted. Siva noticed that he hadn’t touched his can yet. He was holding it in his hands, swinging it.

“Or we could split up and put the three problems together, while Siva and I sleep with Diana,” Yoo suggested, opening a second can.

“No,” Whiskey said.

“I still think it’s best to leave me alone,” Diana insisted. “If you all stay away from me, that would be perfect.”

“Out of the question,” Ghost said, voicing the common thought.

“Your inability to trust me after everything we've been through is devastating,” she said in a flat tone. Still holding the bottle by the neck, she brought it to her lips.

Spider shook his head. “How can we trust you if you’re still keeping so many secrets?”

Siva looked down at Spider’s hands, discovering he also hadn’t opened the can. Not wanting to waste it, Siva snatched it from him and drank it. Spider gave him a confused look and Siva glared back at him.

“It’s not secrets, it’s personal information,” Diana pointed out. “There’s a big difference!”

Whiskey slammed his bottle of Jack Daniels down on the table, making a low noise that drew everyone’s attention to him. “We don’t trust each other,” he declared. “Our group won’t work until we solve this problem.”

“Do we need to get to know each other better? All right, let’s do it!” Diana shouted. Siva felt like the alcohol was starting to take effect. Her movements were more frantic and disordered. She seemed to be dancing on herself and her gaze couldn't focus properly. “Tell us how it felt the first time you killed someone!”

Siva was taken aback by the topic she had chosen. It seemed to come out of nowhere and he wondered how she had come up with it. Unless, but it would occur to him only a few hours later, Diana had already thought of it and had been curious about that aspect of their lives for a while.

She pointed the bottle at Yoo, who was the closest to her. “Your turn, Jungkook.”

Yoo gaped at her. He looked like he was about to curse, but instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Come on, hurry up, I don’t want to stand here with you all night,” she urged him to speak. “I have better things to do.”

“Watching stupid videos on your phone?” Ghost asked, teasing her.

“If I may, It's a better company than you,” she replied. She urged Yoo to take the bottle, shoving it against his chest. Yoo grabbed it by the neck, yanking it out of her hand. “Okay,” he said angrily. “I’ll speak.”

Diana gave both thumbs up and reached forward to grab a can of beer from the center of the table. Before Yoo could even begin to speak, Diana had opened it and started drinking.

Yoo looked down at the bottle in his hand. “It was terrifying,” he admitted in a low voice. All eyes were on him, and their bodies seemed to freeze. “I didn’t have time to think about what I was doing. I just did it. If I hadn’t shot him, I would have been the one dead. So I did it. Fast. It all happened in seconds. One moment the man was standing in front of me, his gun pointed at my head, and the next he was falling to the ground.” His expression was a mask of impassivity, one Siva knew well. Even though it had been centuries since Siva had first taken a life, he still remembered the emotions he had felt. He had felt dirty, as if his victim’s blood had permanently stuck on him. He had spent an entire day washing himself, but he had never been able to shake the feeling off. Only as time passed had he begun to feel better, but forgetting it was impossible. That day he had lost a part of himself that he had never been able to get back. No matter how much his father had praised him over the days, Siva was still marked by that death.

Yoo placed the bottle on the table. His gaze shifted to Diana, who was staring at him silently and with a sad expression. Yoo smiled at her as he slid the bottle in her direction. “Your turn,” he said.

Diana seemed to analyze it, as if it were a foreign object she was seeing for the first time.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel like it,” Siva said, realizing that this was a difficult subject to discuss.

Diana shook the bottle, a weak and barely visible movement. She took the seconds she needed to gather her courage and then began.

“I was thirteen.” She gripped the bottle by its neck delicately as if she were afraid of hurting it. “It was a Tuesday and the last hour of class was math. The teacher was a creepy, forty-year-old man. He had transferred to our school that year, and we all had a bad feeling about him: he kept looking at our private parts, his hands always rested on us for too long… At the beginning of the year, there were even rumors about the reasons that had pushed him to change schools. One spread more than the others: he had been reported for harassing one of his students. But no one took it seriously.”

Siva paled, sure he knew where the story was headed.

Diana’s eyes were wide like two white stones, ready to be extracted. “He asked me to stay after class to talk about the bad grade I had. Getting a three in middle school is really hard, impossible. And now that I think about it, I'm sure he was lying. No one ever gave a three, not even to those who left the test blank, and I’m sure I didn’t fail every single exercise.” She stopped, her chin pushed even lower, preventing her from meeting the gaze of the men who were listening. “He said he could give me private lessons to help me improve. But I didn’t want to. I already had my brother who was very good at math and I could ask him for help. The teacher didn’t take my rejection well.” Her voice broke. “He tried to touch me.”

Siva closed his eyes, unable to get the image out of his head.

When he opened them again, he saw that Yoo had placed a hand on Diana’s shoulder and that she wasn’t trying to pull away.

Diana rubbed her eyes, which were shining and watering. “I screamed,” she continued. “I mean, I used my power against him. He was thrown out the window. And he fell three stories.”

She didn’t say anything else.

There was no need.

Siva wondered if the man had died from the glass that had driven into him or from the blow to the head. Either way, Siva found his death too kind. He deserved to burn for eternity, to be torn apart alive, piece by piece, or dissolved in acid.

Diana rubbed her nose, snapping Siva out of his death fantasies. He was tempted to move closer to comfort her, but he was outpaced by Whiskey and Yoo, who surrounded her.

“Don’t cry,” Whiskey said, cupping her face in his hands and lifting it to make her look at him. “You were just defending yourself.”

Yoo stroked her hair. “You did the right thing by killing him.”

Diana tried so hard to hold back her tears. Siva could see it in her weird, puffy expression. She started to say something, but Whiskey spoke first. “He deserved it,” he said, rubbing the few tears that had already escaped her eyes.

Ghost approached them, moving around the table. “You can’t blame yourself for his death.”

Diana looked away from them, staring at the ceiling, and tried to free herself from Whiskey’s hands, but he held her tightly. “But…”

“There's no 'but',” Yoo said through gritted teeth.

“It’s not your fault,” Whiskey said, moving his face so that her gaze was back on him. “Say it, Diana.”

Diana seemed to be begging him to let her go as if she couldn't express herself, or handle all the attention on her.

“Say it,” Whiskey insisted.

“We’re not leaving until you repeat it,” Yoo warned.

Diana rolled her eyes. In a weak, broken voice, she said, “It wasn’t my fault.”

Whiskey smiled at her, massaging her cheeks. “Good girl, don't stop.”

Diana took hold of his wrists, trying to break free of his grip. “I get it,” she said instead. “Let me go…” Whiskey obliged but remained close. “Who’s next to share their traumas?” she joked.

Yoo’s eyes shifted to his teammates, while he kept touching Diana's hair. “Maybe we should stop for tonight,” he suggested. He looked back at her, his expression softening. “You should go to bed, you’ve done enough today.”

Diana stepped back, trying to put some space between herself and the two men who were still trying to console her. “No,” she said firmly. “It’s important. We need to figure this out.”

Whiskey walked over to the table to grab his bottle. “We’ll take care of it,” he said. “You don’t need to stay.”

“Why?” Diana asked, glaring at him. “Why do I have to leave?” She wiped her eyes aggressively. “You still don’t think I’m your equal. Do you? You still see me as a silly, spoiled little girl.”

Whiskey closed his eyes and rubbed his lids, while Siva looked around confused by the sudden change in atmosphere. “Diana, that’s not what I said,” Whiskey defended himself.

“But that’s what you meant,” she insisted. “I’m not worthy of being in conversations about myself. Men are better off having them!”

Yoo approached her, holding both hands as if he were dealing with a wild animal. “Please, Diana, calm down. Whiskey wasn’t trying to say that.”

Diana backed away, hitting her head on the counter above the sink. “Yeah, right.” She looked down and muttered Italian phrases Siva couldn’t hear because she was too far away.

“Mind your language, kid,” Whiskey scolded.

Diana’s expression only hardened. “Fuck you.”

She started walking, probably toward one of the bedrooms. Yoo grabbed her arm, trying to stop her. Diana tried to move away, looking at him with wild eyes.

“Don’t make me use my power,” she warned.

She spoke in a voice different from her usual one as if it belonged to a powerful and fearsome creature. Even Siva's skin crawled.

Yoo let go of her and Diana dashed into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Chapter Text

Diana was starting to think she should choose apartments with balconies in the bedroom. Because she couldn’t just stay in the living room and hope no one would wake up and disturb her.

She still wasn’t sure why the night had ended so badly.

She could still feel its weight. All those emotions that were writhing inside her, unable to be released or controlled. Diana could only allow them to move, trying to stop herself from letting them out.

She hugged her legs, curling up into herself. She had been out on the balcony for an hour, but before going out of her room, she had to wait for the others to go to sleep.

She didn’t know what had happened after she left. She had put on her headphones and pretended to fall asleep. Almost an hour later, Siva had come into the room and sat next to her. He had tried to talk to her, but she had ignored him. Eventually, he gave up and left. She was surprised when he had returned after half an hour to get into bed and sleep. She had imagined they had chosen Siva to sleep with her because he was the only one everyone trusted.

When she had made sure that Siva was asleep and that the apartment was quiet, she had snuck out to the balcony.

Diana couldn’t explain why sitting outside and admiring the night calmed her. It was similar to how she felt when she sat in front of the sea. It almost seemed as if the world, or the view, could relax her and chase away her thoughts. She stopped keeping track of time and she no longer existed.

And when it happened that thoughts managed to get past the protective barrier put up by the night, Diana felt capable of analyzing them without emotions to disturb her.

Why had she rejected Oscar? When he had kissed her, it hadn’t seemed right. As if it were too soon, an event that shouldn’t have happened yet. He couldn’t come into her room all pissed off and tell her that Ghost had abandoned her and then kiss her. It was out of place, wrong. She also wasn’t sure if she had forgiven him for his behavior the night at the club and the day after. Even though he had tried to apologize, it was still an open wound.

If he wanted her forgiveness, he had to do more, show her that he deserved it. And kissing her had definitely been the wrong move.

A gust of wind made her shiver. Diana clutched her legs, seeking warmth in the hoodie she had stolen from her brother’s closet before leaving. Was he okay? She hoped so with all her heart. She wondered if her mother and sister were looking at the same starry sky. But they were probably sleeping.

If their family had been torn apart, it was only her fault. Diana had always known it. She was the one who had destroyed and brought them to misery.

If she had never been born, her father would still be alive, her brother wouldn’t have chosen to start a dangerous career, her sister wouldn’t have had to give up her dream of becoming a professional swimmer, and her mother would still be nurturing her passion.

She had ruined everything.

The night wind ruffled her hair and she buried her chin in the hoodie. It had once carried her brother’s scent and reminded her of home. But it had become just another hoodie, unfamiliar. She looked down, searching for the hair tie her mother always used. It was on top of the bracelet she and her sister had bought.

She only missed something of her father. But maybe his blood, still staining her hands, was more than enough.

She wondered where he was. Had he become one with the wind or was he one of the few stars she could see? If only she had believed in heaven as he did, she could have felt peace for his soul. Knowing her father, he would have gone there for sure. But when it was Diana’s turn, she would have gone the other way. She would have descended into the hell she deserved.

Her soul, if she still had one, was too dirty.

It didn’t matter that she had defended herself. She had still killed.

She fought against the urge to cry. Her head hurt enough already.

Goosebumps returned, but it wasn’t the cold. Suddenly alarmed, Diana listened to her instincts and looked around.

The new apartment was in a town on the border between France and Germany. On the third floor of a seven-story building, it was surrounded by similar buildings and shorter ones. There were a few lights still on in the neighboring houses and the streets were empty.

Yet Diana was sure that someone was watching her.

She tried desperately to figure out who it was. Unable to find anything or anyone, she stood up and returned inside. She closed the French windows and drew the curtains. She remained still until her heart began to beat normally again.

"What happened?"

Diana gasped. She hadn't realized that Ghost was there.

She saw him sitting alone at the kitchen table. She decided to ignore him, since she didn't have the energy to deal with him. She started to go back to her room, but Ghost stood up and with a few strides managed to stop in front of her.

"Nothing," she replied, clenching her fists and looking at his chest. He was wearing only a black tank top, which showed off all his muscles and tattoos.

“Don't lie,” he insisted, taking a step toward her. Diana’s gaze snapped to his face.

“I’m cold,” she said. “What? I can’t be cold and decide I want to go back to sleep?”

Ghost looked at her without saying anything. Diana knew what he was seeing: a wreck of a girl, someone broken and unable to put herself back together.

She looked down, glancing at his hands, free from their gloves. They were covered in scars. Diana's mind took her back to the day she had been kidnapped and she could feel the knives tearing through her flesh. Her body shook.

Ghost noticed it and put a hand on her arm. Diana shied away from his touch. It felt like his hand was burning her.

Ghost quickly lowered his arm.

“Why did you come back?” she asked. “Why not stay in England?”

She hated the stupid balaclava he was wearing. With only the dim light from outside the apartment, it was impossible to read the man’s expression. She waited for him to speak and justify himself, knowing that no answer would satisfy her.

“It’s my job.”

She shouldn’t have been offended. “Sure,” she said.

Those men might be attracted to her body, but they would never be attracted to her. None of them liked Diana. How could they? They had only known each other for a few weeks and they fought all the time.

Diana’s heart was the fragile one, the one capable of caring about someone even after such a short time. Wasn’t that exactly why she had tried to keep them away?

“I’m sure that even if I fail, in the end, you’ll get your money,” she said hoarsely. She had to get out of there, or she would burst into tears again. And Ghost certainly wouldn’t try to console her. Of all of them, he was probably the one who hated her the most. At best he would be second only to Spider, especially after what had happened the night before.

She passed beside him.

“Diana,” he said with a sigh.

Diana stopped, taken aback. She turned to him. The light of the half-moon was illuminating Ghost from behind, giving him a magnificent white aura.

“I didn’t come back for the money,” he admitted.

Confused, Diana watched him approach. “Why, then?”

Ghost stopped in front of her. Diana hated having to bend her neck to see his face. No one needed to be that tall.

He placed a hand on her cheek. The touch was warm and gentle. Diana realized her heart had started beating fast. She couldn’t figure out why. She had felt the same way before Whiskey kissed her.

Was Ghost going to kiss her again?

She found herself looking at the bottom of his balaclava. On the few occasions she had seen Ghost’s lips, they had seemed rough and full. She remembered seeing a scar that divided the right side of his upper lip.

“Close your eyes, Diana,” he said her name with such gentleness that it made her melt.

She obeyed, relaxing into the hand that was caressing her. Ghost grabbed her back with his other hand, pulling her towards him. The hand that was touching her face moved away for a few seconds, then Diana felt his lips on hers and Ghost grabbed the back of her neck.

It wasn’t a violent kiss like the one in the club. Even though he was greedy, Ghost was gentler. He held her firmly in the position he wanted, but he didn’t move violently, allowing her to reciprocate. Diana still felt too inexperienced for him and felt weaker and weaker, as if she were about to give up and fall.

Ghost moved away from her a little, and Diana was tempted to open her eyes and look at him closely. “Use your power on me if you don’t want to,” he said breathlessly. “Or send me away now.”

Diana licked her lips. She didn’t want to push him away.

She only realized she needed to be touched after he had kissed her. More effectively than the night, or the sea, Ghost was managing to calm her mind. Diana found herself unable to think of anything but his lips and his alcohol-scented breath.

The hand Ghost was holding her with moved to her waist, pulling their bodies even closer. Diana could feel every detail of his chest and below.

The seconds Ghost had given her to think ran out and his lips found Diana’s again. He kissed her with more force, or what she wanted to call passion.

Diana had no idea what that kiss meant. Yet she allowed him to continue touching her, reciprocating. She was surprised when her fingers grabbed his neck and when her feet went up on tiptoe to get even closer to his face.

Suddenly, Ghost let her go. With both hands, he grabbed her thighs. Without warning, he lifted her off the ground. Diana clung to his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips. Surprised, she let out a half-scream, which Ghost immediately devoured. “Shut up,” he ordered, dragging her to the kitchen table. There he let her go. But soon, he changed his mind, probably because the table was too low for him, and pulled her up again.

“What are you doing?” she murmured, pulling away from his kiss.

Ghost forced her to kiss him again. “I didn’t give you permission to open your eyes.” He bit her lower lip and Diana closed her eyelids again.

He placed her on a kitchen cabinet that was used as a pantry. “Can I open them now?”

“No.”

Diana searched his face, discovering that from her new position, she was the taller one. Ghost pushed himself towards Diana to continue devouring her.

If he kept going like this, they would end up doing more. Diana was sure her body wanted it, but she couldn’t tell if her mind agreed.

After long minutes of her body feeling like it was being engulfed in burning flames, she managed to pull away from him. “Wait,” she murmured, cupping his throat with one hand. Ghost let her, even though he immediately grabbed her wrist. “We can’t…”

She heard him curse under his breath. “I know.” Sighing, he rested his head on Diana’s chest.

Diana’s eyes opened slowly. Her chest was rising quickly, and she felt how damp her underwear was. It wasn’t something she was used to feeling yet.

Not knowing what to do, she wrapped her arms around Ghost’s shoulders, massaging his back and moving up to his neck. She noticed that his balaclava was still up, but from where he was positioned, it was hard to see his face.

Ghost slipped his hands under her hoodie, pulling her closer. His fingers warmed her bare skin and she hoped he wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, not even a bra.

They stood there for a long time, in each other’s arms. Diana remained silent, afraid that speaking would break the moment. It was a hug she needed.

She leaned her head against the wall and relaxed, continuing to move the hand that was stroking Ghost, who in return continued to squeeze her tightly. If she had closed her eyelids, Diana was sure she would have fallen asleep.

Ghost pulled away suddenly and Diana looked up, trying not to stare at him as he pulled his balaclava down. “You need to sleep,” he said, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her feet back to the ground.

“You too.”

Ghost tilted his head toward her. It seemed to her that the muscles beneath his balaclava had moved in what she hoped was a smile. “I don’t need to sleep.”

Diana frowned. “It has become difficult to distinguish the circles under your eyes from the balaclava!”

She thought she heard the ghost of a laugh. “Hurry up,” he insisted. “Go to sleep before I change my mind.”

Ghost squeezed her ass so hard it almost hurt. Diana gaped at him. “Pervert!”

She hit his arm and Ghost let go. He nodded in the direction of the rooms. “Be a good girl, Diana.”

Diana walked past him, raising both middle fingers.

When she locked herself in the room where Siva was sleeping, Diana used the door to slide down to the floor. Crouching, she tried to figure out what had happened.

What was the meaning behind Ghost's kiss? What was he trying to say?

Chapter Text

As much as Pedro tried to understand her, Diana was impossible to fathom. He felt like he was dealing with a Russian doll. Just when he thought he had gotten to the heart, he discovered the existence of another doll.

So what was the new problem? He had no idea.

One moment he was comforting her, and the next she was yelling at him because of a misunderstanding. Pedro had not meant to push her aside with his statement, he had only wanted to help her, to take a load off her and allow her to escape the embarrassing situation that had arisen.

And in the end, Diana had excluded herself from the conversation.

Pedro and the others had found a temporary solution, but it was clear to everyone that they would never be able to trust each other completely. Of all of them, the one they all trusted was Siva. After he had saved Diana's life, it had seemed obvious that he was the best suited to be close to her. And he had never tried to kiss her, nor did he seem affected by the strange attraction they all felt towards Diana.

Ghost had made a good point about that. “It could be the Blessing.”

They sat around the table, which was still full of alcohol and empty beer cans, and began to argue, trying to keep their voices calm and controlled.

Siva had hit a can with his fist until it was crumpled. Pedro had noticed that he had already finished three, but Siva still seemed sober and alert. “Power,” he said, without giving them any explanation.

“Power?” Yoo repeated, trying to get something more out of him.

Siva nodded. “Every creature is attracted to power,” he explained, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table. “And Diana has a lot of it, since she’s connected to the Goddess.”

“So that’s why we’re attracted to her?” Pedro asked, still not convinced.

“Yes, but attraction can be managed.” His gaze found Spider and hardened. “It’s a superficial attraction, like the one you feel when you smell something good and search for its source. It doesn’t control our choices and actions.”

Pedro touched his lower lip and it seemed he could still taste Diana’s. He had chosen to kiss her, he was pretty sure of that. And, even though he was now suffering the consequences, he didn’t regret it. On the contrary, he would do it again as soon as he had the chance.

When the discussion returned to who should stay with her at night, everyone chose Siva, who objected. “I can’t stay alone with her. I’m dangerous like everyone of you!” No one listened to him and he was forced to accept the majority's will.

Pedro, on the other hand, found himself sharing the room with the other three. Lying on the top mattress of a bunk bed, he stared at the ceiling all night. At one point he heard Ghost get up and leave the room, probably unable to sleep. He saw him return hours later, when dawn was about to break. He didn’t notice anything strange about Ghost, yet Pedro remained to observe him.

Ghost was on the other side of the small room; standing in front of his bunk bed, his back was to Pedro who, pretending to be asleep, was trying to define his figure through the darkness. The daylight, which was starting to color the sky, allowed him to glimpse some hair. Realizing that Ghost wasn’t wearing his balaclava, Pedro opened his eyes wide. He was tempted to close them or look away, but he remained to study him.

He hadn’t been able to see much of his teammate until then. Only the lower part of his face and the outline of his eyes were not yet obscured by the paint.

The hair he glimpsed seemed short and light, probably blonde. Pedro thought it matched his blue eyes.

Ghost put on his balaclava and lay down on the lower bunk. Pedro closed his eyes before he could be discovered.

Not being in a hurry, they got up late. Yoo went to wake Siva and Diana, and they all sat down to have breakfast.

Diana seemed relaxed, but her expression was flat and impassive and her eyes were purposely avoiding lingering on them. She spoke little, preferring to communicate with nods of her head.

Pedro tried hard to understand her, but as always it was a failed attempt. He then decided to focus on something he could control and was good at: organizing their next steps. “Our destination is Japan. We need to find out about visas.” He looked at Spider. “I don’t think we need one for US citizens.”

Diana interrupted him. “I’ve already looked. We’re all good. Even Siva, as long as he uses his US passport.”

“You have a US passport?” Yoo asked.

Siva shrugged, but his expression showed that he was confused by the news.

“You used it to come to Scotland!”

Siva looked at her without saying anything.

“I didn’t know you lived in the US,” Pedro said, regretting not having read his file properly. He had preferred to focus on Diana. Maybe it was time to take them out and analyze each.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Pedro didn’t investigate his strange behavior, having now accepted that the boy was a little out of his mind. Like all of them, for that matter. “Are you sure you read that right, Diana?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Do you want to check since you don’t trust me?”

Pedro stopped before saying something wrong.

“Two people checking is better than one,” Yoo reminded her.

Huffing, Diana pushed the phone in his direction. Yoo took it and unlocked the screen. Diana didn’t notice that he had done it without asking for her pin. She sat there with her arms crossed and a bored expression.

While they waited for Yoo to finish searching, the others went back to breakfast. Once Yoo confirmed that Diana was right, he handed her the phone back and they moved on to the next part of the planning. Diana would take care of booking the flight and finding a place to stay.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow,” she said, looking down.

“Why? We can’t stay here much longer.”

Diana took a deep breath. “Because I’m getting my period and I’d rather not spend the first day on a plane.”

Pedro could immediately sense the awkwardness between them. It had been years since he had last heard that kind of conversation. In the past, he had always preferred to avoid it, not being personally affected by the “period” problem. With Diana, he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t heard. Taking care of her was their duty.

“Are you sure it’ll arrive tomorrow?” Yoo asked.

Diana read the date on her phone screen. “I stopped taking the pill three days ago, so it should arrive tonight or tomorrow.”

The fact that Diana was on birth control pill was one of the pieces of information in her file. Pedro had deemed it essential since day one. “Do you have everything you need? Pads, chocolate?”

Diana shook her head weakly. “I have extra pads in my backpack, but they’re not enough.”

“This afternoon, it would be better if we went to get everything you might need, okay?”

Diana nodded.

The conversation changed direction, returning to the trip they had to prepare. Since they would have to leave the apartment the next day, they decided to move further north, near Paris. They found a small, isolated house with two floors and enough rooms. They would spend their last night in Europe in a hotel near the airport. They would use those days to rest, relax, and organize themselves before leaving.

The flight tickets were not cheap, but Diana still had a generous amount of money in her account. As soon as that ran out, the lieutenant had told her that she would receive another card. Pedro did not find it safe to continue using credit cards, since they could be traced, but in recent years it had become difficult to make certain payments without them.

As agreed, in the afternoon, Pedro, Diana, and Siva went to a local supermarket, while Ghost remained in the car. Pedro wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to leave Oscar and Yoo behind, but he hoped that the two were mature enough to avoid each other. After the argument of the day before, he noticed that Spider had become silent, more of a shadow than a person. He wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t know what to say. He had made a mistake by kissing Diana without her consent, and he was proud of her for chasing him away. From what little he knew of his teammate, Pedro thought it was a mistake with no ill intentions. He had misread the mood between them. If the opposite had been true, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did to Diana’s rejection. He wouldn’t have walked away from her and admitted his crime.

Was Pedro trying too hard to defend him? Pedro didn’t see it that way. He truly believed in his teammate’s innocence. And he didn’t feel the need to hit him in the face just because Diana had already done it with her power. Knowing she could chase them away if she wanted to, made him feel good. Maybe because it meant that when he had kissed her, she had allowed it, even wanted it.

He watched her stop in front of the shelves where the pads were, while she chose the best one with a thoughtful expression.

Diana might think that their kiss had been a mistake and that it would not happen again, but Pedro believed otherwise. He had not kissed her by mistake. He had thought before joining their lips. They had both wanted it. When the attraction was mutual, it was inevitable that such an event would happen again.

Pedro just had to find the right moment to recreate the necessary context.

Diana, having no idea what he was thinking, filled the cart and signaled them to follow her to the next aisle. Pedro, who was holding the reins of the cart, suddenly realized how mundane that moment was. He was there, busy shopping as if he didn’t have next to him a man who could control blood and a girl who heard the voice of a Goddess in her head. Diana’s insistence on buying more alcohol threatened to ruin the atmosphere of everyday life, but Pedro tried not to give it too much weight.

It was just him, a man of almost fifty who couldn’t wait to retire, and his two magical children.

He spoke to Diana again only the next morning, when she told them that she had started her period. Ignoring the disgusted and confused looks she received, she announced it with pride, as if she were happy to have been, once again, proven right.

Without another word, she spread her arms and walked back to her room, which she would emerge from hours later.

The change between the Diana without her period and the Diana who had just started it was subtle. A difference that an inattentive person would have missed, but one that Pedro managed to notice. First of all, her pubic area was more swollen due to the pads she was using; her pants, which were a canvas model with many pockets and black, were not tight around her waist; her hair was dirty and tied in a messy bun in the middle of her head, and finally, her expression was often interrupted by disgust that could be mistaken for a reaction to what she was seeing, but was in truth probably related to the pain or what she was feeling in her lower body.

Disgusted by the images he had created, Pedro looked away from her.

He only thought about it again during the evening, when they were sitting down to dinner and Diana began to curse in Italian under her breath, condemning whoever had made her a woman.

“Are you okay?” he asked, watching her contrite expression with concern.

Diana waved one hand, bringing the other to her belly. Before saying anything, she pushed the chair out and ran to the bathroom, which she didn’t emerge from for almost twenty minutes.

“Siva,” Yoo called, looking toward the closed bathroom door. “Can you help her?”

Siva’s expression seemed dazed.

“With blood,” Yoo muttered, as if he were saying something sinful.

Everyone looked at Siva. “I could speed up the blood flow, but it’s not pleasant,” he replied, shrugging. “Usually, it’s not recommended and if someone wants to do it, they’re referred to a specialist, which I’m not.”

Pedro found his answer weird and curious. It almost seemed like Siva was talking about an entire civilization and not a small group of people as he had imagined. He promised himself to investigate and ask him some personal and specific questions.

Even though everyone was ready to eat, they waited for Diana. She sat down, pretending not to notice the worried glace they gave her. When Spider asked if she was okay, Pedro stiffened, having no idea how she would react. Diana smiled. “The usual,” she replied, throwing a quick thank you to Yoo who had cooked for everyone.

That night Pedro had a different dream than usual.

Sitting in his grandmother's kitchen, he was listening to her sing while she cooked her secret vegetable pie. "One day," she always told him, "when you're old enough, I'll tell you the family secret. And I'll tell you how to make this pie special."

For years, Pedro had wanted to grow up just for that.

In the dream, his grandmother began to sing an old Spanish song that he hadn't heard in years, but that his subconscious hadn't forgotten.

"You know, Pedrito..." His grandmother was the only person who called him by his middle name. At her house, he was no longer José, but Pedro (or Pedrito when she was in a good mood). "When you grow up, you'll understand why I cook for the whole family."

"Really?" he asked, surprised. "You never told me."

His grandmother looked at him gravely. "I didn't have enough time."

She had died before telling him her secrets. Pedro watched her walk to the oven, which she opened to put the cake in. “We all have a role to play,” she said. Her emotionless gaze was fixed on the darkened oven window. “Ours is to help.”

“I don’t think that applies to me.”

His grandmother shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Taking her apron in one hand, she approached him. “We can cultivate other people’s strengths. We control and manage them.” She smiled at him. “That’s why I cook.”

Pedro frowned, unable to understand what his grandmother was trying to say. Was he crazy? After all, there was no point in trying to make sense of a dream. “Can you explain?” he begged, hoping she would keep talking. He liked listening to her, even when she was talking nonsense. Besides, he had missed her terribly.

His grandmother waved her hands in the air, fidgeting with a tired expression. “I cook so I can pass my strength on to others.” She pushed her hands in front of his face. “My fingers carry my love.”

Pedro’s confusion didn’t ease.

“Mi amor,” she said, cupping his face. Suddenly, Pedro felt a deep, soothing peace wash over him. Every tension that had gathered in his body was gone. “You must help your girl or you will all die.” His grandmother’s expression hardened. “An unimaginable pain threatens to overtake you. If you do not stay united, only defeat awaits.” A bright smile spread her full lips. “Use your power to unite, not divide. Strengthen your bonds. Lead them away from the darkness.”

Her hands let go of his face, and the peace he had felt disappeared. The kitchen of his grandmother’s house crumbled around them, while the floor beneath their feet opened up. Pedro sank into a dark abyss. He began to scream, terrified and unable to wake up from the nightmare.

He fell for many meters. With his gaze, he clung to the figure of his grandmother, who remained above. Her voice reached him from afar, echoing. "This is your role."

Chapter Text

Oscar wanted to disappear. Wrapped in the cold arms of nothingness, he would feel much better than what he was feeling right now. To be more precise, any situation would be better than the current one.

The house they had chosen, and where they would stay for just one night, was quiet and isolated. The front patio allowed Oscar to stay outside in the cool and admire, with a vacant look, the surrounding nature. He brought the cigarette to his lips and closed his eyes, concentrating only on the taste of the smoke filling his lungs.

Even if he still had difficulty accepting it, it was now obvious that he had become what he had always hated. He had promised himself that he would be different, that he would not be like them. Yet in the end, the blood in his veins had won.

He had kissed Diana without her consent. He had not even realized it until she had pushed him away. If she had not done so, if fear had paralyzed her and made her not react, he, reckless and idiot, would not have stopped.

He couldn’t even explain why he had kissed her. He had felt the need.

A desire he had for too long. Gone and destroyed the moment she had rejected him.

Since then, Oscar had struggled to even be in the same room as her without throwing up.

But it wasn’t a disgust he felt for her. It was all toward himself.

He rubbed his aching head.

He was still his parents’ son, wasn't he?

In a sinister chain, what his father had done to his mother, what she had then done to Oscar, Oscar had finally done to Diana. Even if he had been stopped before he had gone all the way, it was still unforgivable.

He felt dirty.

Dirty in the same way he had felt when he was little, when his mother was still alive and had just finished touching him.

At times like this, Oscar wished he still was able to cry. At least, by weeping, he could calm down. Instead, he was forced to hold back, to let all those emotions thrash around inside him and slowly wear him down.

Maybe they would go away if he just walked away. By abandoning the mission and the team, he could seek peace elsewhere, somewhere that would let him push back those memories and feelings he didn’t want to think about. But he doubted that would work. Just as Ghost had walked back, so would Oscar.

Was it for the same reasons Ghost had walked away? Had he tried to get away from Diana before he could hurt her?

He cursed under his breath, releasing a small part of the torment he was feeling. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his spread knees.

All he could do to feel better and reduce the possibility of further harm was to avoid Diana, the person who was causing it all. Oscar knew it would be difficult, but it was the only way he could.

He stood up, ready to go back inside, his cigarette almost finished. He reached the door, but before he could open it, someone else pushed it open from the inside.

He met Whiskey’s gaze. Oscar stepped aside, giving him space to leave the house.

“Are you done yet?” Whiskey asked.

Oscar, holding the door by the handle, paused before entering. “Yeah. I was thinking about going to sleep.”

Whiskey pulled a pack out of his pants pocket and took out a cigarette. “Why don’t you stay with me for a while, um?” He lit the cigarette, cupping one hand and focusing on the lighter flame. Oscar watched his cheeks sink.

“I don’t think so…” he tried to say.

Whiskey’s look was sharp. “I insist.”

Having no idea what was about to happen, Oscar was tempted to ignore him and walk away. Instead, he closed the door and approached his captain, who didn’t seem interested in sitting down.

“Do you want another cigarette?” he asked, handing him the pack. Oscar shook his head.

Oscar put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. He began to think that a reprimand was coming, which he tried to brace himself for.

In the minutes of silence that preceded the start of their conversation, Oscar looked at the hedge surrounding the perimeter of the house. It was tidy, making him think that the owners took care of it frequently. In the garden, there were few trees, he counted only four. One of them, the one furthest from the house, was a huge chestnut tree, with long branches that created a deep shadow. He had noticed it that morning when they first arrived, and he had thought that if the context had been different, he would have liked to lie down there and fall asleep.

Maybe he would read a book. The thought had made him smile. He hadn’t opened a book in over ten years. He changed his mind, remembering that he had read some to his daughter. His children would love this house. He could imagine them racing around the garden. He could finally teach his daughter to ride a bike…

Whiskey decided to start with a cautious approach. “How are you holding up?”

Oscar shrugged. “I’m surviving.” How did Whiskey expect him to answer? Did he think Oscar would show him everything he was feeling?

His captain nodded, lifting his head to blow out smoke. Oscar, taking advantage of the fact that Whiskey was looking away, studied him. When they first met, the lines on Whiskey's face had been less pronounced and he hadn’t started to wear his mustache like that. Oscar remembered his thicker beard.

It was a given, then as now, that Pedro was an attractive man. Even Oscar had to admit it. He wasn’t surprised that he had charmed Diana.

Oscar found the jealousy that pricked his chest annoying.

He clenched his jaw. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion Oscar liked to feel. Especially when he wasn’t sure who he was jealous of.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, wanting to get to the point. “One word from you and I’ll disappear.”

Whiskey frowned. “Why would I want that? You heard Diana. We were chosen for a reason and we must stick together.” He shifted his attention to the tip of his cigarette as it was about to fall. He brought it back to his lips. “Do you want to leave, Oscar?”

Oscar looked at him, not knowing how to respond.

“We can’t stop you if that’s what you want,” Whiskey continued, taking his silence as an affirmation.

Oscar closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t know.”

His honesty seemed to please Whiskey. “You can take until tomorrow to think about it.”

They didn’t say anything else for another long moment. Whiskey continued to smoke, blowing the smoke away from Oscar, who took the opportunity to continue observing his captain. Pedro dressed like he was from the last decades of the previous century. He reminded him of his father when Oscar was very young, although, for obvious reasons, Whiskey had a charm that his father could only dream of. In low-waisted jeans, cinched with a brown belt, and a yellow shirt, he looked like he had stepped out of an old detective series.

“Do you miss your family?”

The question caught Oscar off guard. He stared at Whiskey, speechless.

“Yes,” he admitted. “My children.”

Even though he was trying not to think about them. It had been easier to stop not thinking about his ex-wife, but he had never stopped worrying about the kids. After all, he had started this job for them too. He hoped that one day it would be worth it.

“Your parents?”

Oscar crossed his arms over his chest, looking away from his teammate. “They died many years ago.”

Everything had gotten easier since they died. His father had been the first to go, followed a decade later by his mother.

Oscar hadn’t cried for them. His chest had lightened and he felt like he was breathing for the first time after years of holding his breath.

“I know what it feels like,” Pedro said, giving him a wistful smile.

Oscar doubted it. Whiskey had a tattoo on his wrist dedicated to his mother. He could never do that if he hated her as much as Oscar had hated his own.

Even though Pedro had lost his parents, that didn’t mean he understood how Oscar felt. “Do you miss your family too?” he asked, wanting to shift the focus away from himself.

Pedro just nodded, his smile growing more nostalgic.

They said nothing else. They stood there watching the night before them, enjoying the coolness it had to offer. It was Pedro who suggested they go back inside and rest.

Oscar lay in bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above his head. The sleep that came to weigh down his eyelids was heavy and slow to come. He wriggled under the covers, trembling and sweating.

His body sensed the nightmare coming before he could see it.

---

Oscar was fourteen when his father died.

He saw it happen before his own eyes. He stood there, motionless, as his father collapsed to the floor. His body trembled, as he reached out to Oscar. His shining eyes begged Oscar to help him.

But Oscar didn't. He didn't have the strength. And it wouldn’t make sense for him to do it.

He had been waiting for his father to die for as long as he could remember.

So he remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the man who was writhing on the floor.

His father's last words were curses against him. "You shouldn't have been born." How many times had Oscar heard them? Too many to allow them to insinuate themselves inside his chest.

His father was right. Oscar should never have been born.

His mother had betrayed his father by going with a stranger who had gotten her pregnant. Why hadn't she aborted? Oscar had never understood.

Why force a soul to live a reality like Oscar's? It was cruel.

His father stopped breathing. His body blocked, frozen in time and space.

Oscar watched him with a curious gaze. There was nothing in the body that lay before him that could distinguish a light sleep from an eternal one. But Oscar knew.

He turned and went back to his room.

In a few hours, his mother would return from work to find her husband lying on the floor. A worry Oscar shouldn’t have thought about at that moment.

He locked himself in his room and opened one of the books he had stolen from the local library. As soon as he finished it, he would return it. Without any remorse, he lost himself in the pages of that story.

---

Oscar sat up. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, preventing him from breathing properly. He brought his hands to his face, hiding his sweaty forehead. The images he had just dreamed remained stuck to his eyelids. He saw his father’s corpse again, his hand outstretched and the other one clutching his chest. The nightmare had suddenly changed. Oscar had found himself immersed in a freezing sea of ​​shadows, unable to rise to the surface or reach the shore. He had swum desperately, but in the end, it hadn’t been worth it.

The dark waters had enveloped him, making him sink. It seemed the shadow was entering him through every hole until Oscar had become part of the darkness.

He rose before dawn.

Chapter Text

The two days before their flight to Tokyo passed quickly. Siva was bored and had nothing to do; he tried to enjoy the calm that came with waiting.

Sure, the situation among the group was tense, but not because it affected him personally, Siva was at peace with himself. Diana was quiet, limiting herself to speaking little and only when necessary. He missed hearing her babble for minutes about topics he was unfamiliar with. But it was an essential distance. If she continued to avoid Siva, it would allow him to regain control of his emotions. He could keep out the kinder, warmer ones he was starting to feel for her.

And he didn’t mind knowing that she was avoiding the others. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about saving her or killing them.

Oscar’s fate was the only inevitable one. Siva just had to find the best time to get rid of him. Maybe he could wait until the mission was over. After the group split and Diana was safe from the man stalking her, Siva would find Oscar and make him pay for daring to touch her.

Creatures like him were the most disgusting. Siva had killed many of them when he was young and had been tasked with defending his family while his older brother was away.

They arrived at the hotel near the airport in the early afternoon. With no plans for the day, they spent the rest of their hours doing nothing. They had three rooms: one for Whiskey and Spider, one for Yoo and Ghost, and the last one was just for Siva and Diana. Their room was spacious, with two twin beds. Diana lay down and read a book, while Siva, not knowing what to do, watched television, flipping from channel to channel, never stopping for long.

They ate dinner separately. A few glances were exchanged between them, although Siva did not doubt that his colleagues' concentration was fixed on their protégé.

They went to bed early. Siva was not tired, but he had decided to seek some distraction through sleep. The idea of being about to take another plane for many hours was frightening. Siva tried to remain still in bed, preventing himself from tossing and turning every minute.

A noise cut the silence of their room, it took him a moment to realize that it was the creaking of a bed. It was well past midnight and they would have to wake up very early, perhaps even before dawn. He looked towards Diana's bed, discovering that she was getting up. Thinking that she was going to go to the bathroom, he closed his eyes.

With extreme surprise, he heard her footsteps approaching him and the mattress sagging under the girl's weight.

Siva opened his eyes wide and stared at her in the darkness. "What are you doing?"

Diana froze, caught red-handed. The total darkness that had been present in the room since they had closed the blinds had made her believe that Siva was still asleep. "I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you?"

"Okay..."

He moved to the side to give her some space and Diana lay down a very short distance from him. The size of the bed prevented them from being far from each other. Siva reached under the pillow, looking for a more comfortable position, and Diana moved closer.

"What did you dream?" he asked, sure that he would not fall asleep having her so close.

Diana moved forward, her head resting next to Siva’s, pressed against the pillow. He turned to look at her better. His non-human vision allowed him to see through the darkness with ease. He could make out the details of her face without any trouble.

“I don’t remember.”

Siva didn’t believe her, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t force her. Sighing, he moved his hand so he could rub her back. “Try to sleep,” he said. “I’m here, so nothing will happen to you.”

He moved his fingers slowly and gently, enjoying the pleasant sensation he felt every time he touched her. He felt her body relax, her heartbeat slowing.

“Siva?”

He looked down at her, finding that Diana was still staring at him. He wondered if the Blessing had granted her, among other capabilities, the ability to see well in the dark. “What is it?” he asked, embarrassed because their faces were too close.

“Can I kiss you?”

Siva stopped moving the hand he was using to caress her. He felt like he had shut down. His brain stopped working and he couldn't do anything but look at her.

Where had that question come from? How long had she been thinking about it?

Diana’s gaze shifted, landing on Siva’s lips, and a shiver ran through him, gathering between his legs.

It wasn’t normal.

He felt a sudden fear. He was used to feeling it in others, but on himself, it drove him crazy. How could he control himself when that thing between his legs was giving him horrible orders?

“No,” he said with a sigh.

Diana looked away. Siva thought she was going to leave. He hoped so, at least, he could take care of his own body. Instead, Diana stood still, her gaze returning to his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He was the one who needed to apologize for what he was feeling and thinking.

Siva couldn’t say yes. He couldn’t listen to his desire.

He wanted to do it so badly that he was surprised he hadn’t set the room on fire. Unable to say anything, and partly thinking he would say something wrong, he looked back up at the ceiling and his hand moved gently. He forced himself to focus on that movement. If he put all his energy there, it would disappear from that other part, which was becoming painful.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Siva closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. “No.”

He was sure that as soon as she tried to pull away from him, he would chase and catch her. And he couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want to hurt her. If he listened to that desire he was feeling, he would surely hurt her. He couldn’t let that happen.

“You’re weird,” Diana murmured. Siva felt her eyes on him. They were analyzing him. Siva wondered why she was wasting her time examining him. Nothing was interesting or curious about him.

He wanted to do the same to her. Diana was interesting. Siva had never tired of watching her. But fearing that he would lose the faint control he had over himself, he forced himself to keep his eyes closed.
“Go to sleep,” he said. “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Are you afraid for tomorrow?” she asked, showing complete ignorance of Siva’s miserable condition.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“If we sit together, I can hold your hand again.”

“I can do it myself,” he said brusquely. He had to learn to do it alone. He couldn’t depend on her.

“Whatever.” She looked offended, but Siva did nothing to make up for it. His hand continued to caress her, stopping only when he was sure she was asleep. He didn’t have to wait too long. Diana was tired, and sleep brought her back into its embrace.

Siva turned to look at her. She was so beautiful…

Not even among the people who inhabited his world had he ever thought of anyone that way. Diana seemed to have been created by nature, a creature that had to be protected and admired.

From the moment she had fallen asleep, Siva allowed himself to run a finger over the features of her face. He started from her forehead, down her nose, and up to her lips. He wondered what it was like to kiss her. He pulled back, sure he was making a mistake. Being close to her tempted him to abandon everything his father had taught him.

Siva and Diana belonged to different worlds, which should never have come into contact. They could not unite, not even in a frivolous and purely physical relationship. It was wrong. His father had told him it every time he took Siva to another world, allowing him to see how vast the universe was.

Their race was powerful, but it was few, so they had a duty to preserve it.

One day, like his father, Siva would go through a special ceremony called “Marriage” and join another member of his community, with whom he would, for many years, try to procreate. But he still had time before that moment. Or at least, that's what Siva told himself.

What he felt for Diana, whatever emotion it was, was wrong. A waste of time that would lead to nothing good for any of them.

The control he was cultivating within himself, like a steady and calm flame, was, however, starting to wriggle, trying to escape the reins restricting him. If he stayed near her, Siva would explode.

The flames inside him would blaze. And no earthling would ever be able to destroy them.

He couldn't afford it.

Without making too much noise and slowly so as not to wake her with his movements, he got up from the bed. He reached the bathroom quickly, needing to spend the rest of the night under the freezing water of the shower. Only that would have eased the burning pain of his flesh.

But it didn't work.

Siva committed the same sin as his teammates.

Chapter Text

Even though it had been two days since Whiskey had made that comment, Yoo still had a burning desire to punch him in the face. Yoo didn’t know how he had managed to hold back. It was strange that he had managed not to kill Spider in his sleep. The control he was maintaining was surprising him.

Every time Yoo felt himself getting closer to losing his mind, he tried to imagine himself going home and hugging his daughter. They would go out together like they used to when she was little. He would take her shopping and buy her whatever she wanted, using the money he had earned protecting Diana. Thinking about his target was enough to dent the image he was building in his head.

He looked at her. She was sitting far away from them, wrapped up in her sweatshirt.

The gate was crowded, even though it was seven in the morning. Yoo had noticed too many eyes traveling towards Diana, especially from shady-looking men. He wanted to grab Diana and take her away from everyone, to lock her in a safe place where no one could see her.

He was surprised by his thoughts but blamed it on the lack of sleep. He should have had that coffee Whiskey had suggested.

Diana was the first to get in line. She chose to stand behind a family of two adult women, two little girls, and one man. Yoo thought that the choice was not a coincidence. He and the others quickly stood behind Diana, to prevent anyone else from being close to her. They had already confirmed that their seats on the flight were all adjacent. On the first flight, Diana would be between Yoo and Ghost, while the others sat beside each other.

They had ten hours to Beijing, then almost four hours of layover, and another three hours to Tokyo. Yoo was already tired.

He hated long flights. He had nothing to do and was forced to blank stare for hours. At least he would have Diana beside him, who would surely entertain him by talking. Yoo had promised himself that if he saw her wearing headphones for too long, he would take them off, forcing her to act like a civilized person.

When they passed security, Diana walked quickly towards the small bus that would take them to the plane. Yoo tried to keep up with her so as not to lose her.

Yoo was happy to sit next to her in the designated seats. Ghost asked if she wanted to sit by the window, but Diana said the middle was fine. Yoo stood up to help her put away her backpack and, sitting back down, he glared at Diana's phone, where she was watching a video of a boy talking. What was he saying that was so interesting that he had her full attention?

As the plane started moving, Diana looked outward. She reached out to take a video of the takeoff, and Ghost clung to his seat so he wouldn’t be filmed.

As they reached the top, Diana’s attention was drawn back to the video. Desperate for conversation, Yoo tapped her shoulder, and Diana took off a headphone. “When was your first flight?”

Diana seemed to find his question boring. She leaned forward, looking past Yoo. “I think third grade in middle school,” she replied, forgetting that Yoo was unfamiliar with the Italian school system and had no idea how many years had passed since that time. “My parents wanted to celebrate their twentieth anniversary by going to Edinburgh.”

“Edinburgh doesn’t sound like a romantic destination,” Ghost said.

Diana frowned, and Yoo turned to see what she was looking at. He noticed that Siva, sitting across the aisle, was leaning forward, holding his head in his hands, while Whiskey rubbed his back. “My mother has always liked Scotland. I’d say it’s a bit of an obsession, actually. It was a great trip. We went in late spring, so the weather was perfect. And we got to see a lot.”

Yoo reached out to Siva, touching his shoulder. His teammate flinched. “Are you okay?”

Siva’s face was pale and frightened. He looked over at Diana, quickly looking away as his eyes filled with shame. “Um,” should have sounded like a statement, but it was weak and unsure.

“Let us know if you’re sick, okay?”

Siva nodded. He stretched out his seat, leaning back, and closed his eyelids. Diana muttered some phrases in Italian, which Yoo thought were objections or criticisms. Forgetting the conversation Yoo had started, she put her headphones back on and restarted the video.

Sighing, Yoo sank into his seat. To distract himself, he started playing on the screen in the seat in front, only casting curious glances at the girl sitting next to him. Even though she was yawning, Diana continued to look at her phone. She didn’t stop even when their food was brought. She found a way to put her phone on the tray without dirtying it. But at least she chatted with them to complain about the poor quality of the food.

After a few hours, she asked Yoo to get up so she could use the bathroom. Ghost also got up, with the excuse that he wanted to stretch. Yoo imagined that for a man as tall and long as he was, airplanes were uncomfortable and terrifying. He noticed several glances lingering on his teammate. Many were frightened, probably because of the black mask he was wearing and the hood pulled up to cover his head.

Yoo looked at the three sandwiches Ghost was holding, two of which he and Diana had given him. Even though he had known him for almost two weeks, Yoo still found his way of eating annoying and questionable. To avoid showing them too much of his face, Ghost always tried to hide and eat alone. He often took his plate to his room. Or, as he was doing on the plane, he locked himself in the bathroom.

Why did he insist on hiding his face?

They had almost died for each other. Diana had protected him with her own life. Didn't they deserve to see him? To know what the person next to them looked like?

After lunch, they tried to convince Diana to sleep, but she refused and started watching a movie on the screen. They got off the plane together. During the layover, they wandered around the available shops to stretch their legs and then went to eat a hearty meal. Since they were on the other side of the world and could only pay with Diana’s card, they all ate together, ignoring the stares they were getting. They spent the remaining time at the gate, relaxing before boarding again. In the hours that remained, Diana succumbed to sleep.

Yoo looked down at her sleeping face. It had been hard to convince her to use her legs as a pillow, and he was glad he had succeeded. Whiskey, on Diana’s other side, was caressing her side and ankles, his eyes closed, trying to fall asleep. Yoo glared at his hands with hatred, wanting to grab them and pull them off Diana’s body.

He was surprised that she was allowing them to touch her, given how persistently she had tried to convince them to stay away during their argument. Had she changed her mind? Yoo doubted it. There was probably an explanation behind her inconsistency that he couldn’t understand.

Diana was an impossible puzzle to solve.

A broken glass, the pieces of which Yoo couldn’t put together.

He rested his head on the back of the seat and looked up. Yoo couldn’t wait to get to the hotel they had booked and sleep. Doing it on the plane was impossible. The noise of the engine was deafening, there was too much light, and the smells filled his nostrils. He looked down at the girl sleeping on his lap, tempted to lean forward to smell her pleasant scent. Instead, he moved some strands of her hair behind her ear. He looked at her headphones, wondering what she was listening to and how she could sleep. Her expression was relaxed, the epitome of total peace.

He liked watching her. Her face could wash away all worries, and as a result, he could breathe with relief.

He found himself wondering what she had looked like as a child before that man had found her. Had she smiled like a happy child? Was she the kind of child who always ran around? Or had she always preferred to be alone?

He was desperate to meet her. An attitude he still couldn’t explain.

What would the next challenge be like? He thought about the one he had witnessed. It had been strange and scary. If he could, he would have volunteered in her place.

But the Goddess hadn’t chosen him.

What did it mean to be a Goddess? Was she really one? Or was she just a magic user who thought she was a God?

Yoo had always been taught to believe in only one God. One who was inescapable and all-knowing. He had created them, and He would destroy them. Maybe He had created this infamous “goddess” too. So why was she never mentioned before?

Or… Or she was a false goddess. Someone sent by the devil to tempt them.

Diana certainly fit that bill. It was too sweet a temptation, and Yoo was sure he couldn’t resist much longer.

Diana was right. He touched her cheek, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. He had to stay away from her. Avoid feeding the desire he already felt.

The thought of putting distance between them made his heart clench.

He closed his eyes, hating himself for what he was feeling. Why had he taken this job? It could only have been a test sent by God to see if Yoo was worthy of His glory. Diana would lead him down a path of sin and dishonor. He couldn’t afford it.

He took a deep breath, regulating the rest of his body through his breathing. He was in control. He repeated it to himself, trying to get it into his head. Diana was just a girl, barely an adult. He couldn’t let her control him. Yoo was a grown man, capable of managing his emotions and feelings.

Diana stirred, forcing him to turn his attention back to her. Looking sleepy, she sat up, took off her headphones, and muttered that she needed to go to the bathroom. Yoo stood up to let her pass, and when he noticed that she seemed unsure of her steps, he wrapped an arm around her stomach. He squeezed her side, making sure she didn’t fall.

“I can do this,” she muttered, touching the arm Yoo held her with.

“You’re unsteady,” he pointed out. He pressed their bodies together to speak to her and lowered his head until he was close to her ear. “Let me walk you.”

With closed eyelids and a dazed look, Diana nodded. She let him lead her down the narrow aisle between the seats. Since she was walking slowly, Yoo kept bumping into her and ended up pressing his small erection into her ass too many times. If Diana was the temptation, Yoo was losing against her.

He only let go of her when they reached the bathroom. He leaned against the opposite wall and stared intently at the door, wondering if it would be wise to let her go in alone. She might slip and hurt herself, or fall asleep. But what if he went in with her? He imagined what he might do.

A curse, whispered and in Korean, left his lips. He looked up at the ceiling, hating himself for his weakness.

With his arms crossed and eyes closed, he continued to curse himself and did everything he could to calm down. Returning to their seats with a pronounced erection was counterproductive. He repeated an exercise he was learning to use well: imagining himself in his grandparents' house, surrounded by ghosts. The terror was enough to chase away every other sensation. Even though it had been years since he had last been there, the fear was still glued to his bones, hidden inside him and waiting to be released.

It was terrifying that he had to resort to fear to stop thinking about his target in such an inappropriate way.

Diana left the bathroom and they went to their seats; Diana went back to lying down and Yoo forced himself to try to sleep. He failed, but the last hours of the flight passed faster and more peacefully.

It was with relief and happiness that he stepped off the plane, breathing deeply the fresh air of the wide Japanese sky.

Chapter Text

Diana didn’t like being there. She didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t help herself.

She shouldn’t have been in Japan.

This wasn’t how she had imagined her entry into the country. It should have happened with a completely different company. Her sister and some of her friends should have been next to her. Together, they would have talked nonsense about Japan and the places they wanted to visit, the food they would eat, and all the useless objects they intended to buy.

Instead, she was there with them. And for reasons she hated.

The Goddess had been cruel in choosing Japan as their next destination. Diana ignored the voice of logic reminding her that the Goddess probably hadn’t had much say in the matter. If everything depended on the natural portals the Goddess could access, the choice of locations for the challenges was limited. And, even if the Goddess could communicate with Diana through her mind, that didn’t mean she could hear her every thought and knew everything about Diana’s life.

Diana sighed, tightening the hoodie she had around her waist. Much like Italy, the Japanese summer was stifling. She doubted she would wear a sweatshirt in the days to come.

She walked down the plane's steps, following Yoo and Whiskey who were headed toward the bus that would take them to the gate. From there, they had planned to split into two groups. Diana would be with Siva, while the other four would go separately. That way, they could take taxis and get to the hotel without attracting attention.

Their first day in Japan would be quiet. They would go through security calmly and then relax. The next day, when Diana was supposed to feel better, they would go to the shrine to analyze the area and find the entrance that would take them to the second challenge.

Diana was already tired at the mere thought of having them around all that time. Since the five men had insisted on following her during the second challenge, she couldn’t allow herself any moments of solitude.

Once she got on the bus, she squeezed between Whiskey and Ghost, who had walked behind her. It was impossible not to think about the fact that she was pressed between them and could feel every muscle in their bodies. Her heartbeat quickened and she felt clammy and sweaty.

The bus turned too quickly and before Diana could fall, both men had her in their hands. Whiskey grabbed her waist while Ghost wrapped an arm around her torso.

It was too hot to be near them.

Whiskey leaned down to speak into her ear. She could feel his breath warming her skin. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down for a second?” He pulled away, looking at her with concern.

Ghost leaned down too, to make himself heard better. His fingers tightened and Diana was tempted to scream. “Give me an order and I’ll find you a place to sit.”

Those men were just too much!

She put a hand on Whiskey’s chest, trying to push him away, and grabbed Ghost’s arm. “I just need to breathe. There’s a lot of people here and you are too close to me.”

She made the mistake of meeting Whiskey’s gaze. She recognized that light, that slight mischievous amusement that meant he was forming a certain idea about the situation they were in.

Diana rolled her eyes and snorted.

The two men let her go slowly, and reluctantly. Almost ten minutes later, it was with pure happiness that Diana got off the bus. She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulders. She glanced at Siva, who was walking with a soft, slumping motion, as if he were about to collapse. She quickly turned her head, telling herself that it wasn’t her responsibility to take care of him.

Ever since she had asked permission to kiss him, Diana had been convinced that Siva hated her and found her disgusting. That was the reason, as soon as she had fallen asleep, he had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Diana had woken up shortly after, the bed cold and empty. She had struggled to get back to sleep, and when her phone’s ringtone had woken her, she had found Siva sitting in the armchair under the window, his gaze hard on her. Seeing him there, still, serious, and in total darkness, had given her the shivers. It almost seemed as if Siva was planning to kill her.

But it couldn’t be like that. He had saved her.

It was just paranoia.

As she left the gate, she tried to orient herself in that new airport. She looked around disoriented, moving her gaze from one point to another, lingering for a few seconds on the sea of people until she found the signs she was looking for.

Despite not having any hold luggage, they ended up wasting two hours, not only because their gate was far from everywhere, but also because of the long lines.

Bored and tired of being on the phone, Diana stopped to observe the strangers around her. When she was little, her mother would pick her up and ask her to imagine what other people were doing and who they were. Diana played that game alone.

She saw a Caucasian couple, both with blondish hair. She moved her neck to try to understand what passport they had and was satisfied to guess that they were Australians. She couldn't say what made her think that. She wondered if they were in Japan for a honeymoon or just a vacation. After all, Japan was close enough for them…

A surprising sight interrupted her thoughts. A Hawaiian girl walked past the couple, completely captivating Diana, who got lost in staring at her muscular biceps (surely she could lift Diana in those powerful arms), and her long, straight black hair (it looked like silk). She was so charming that Diana remained still and lost for words. Her brain shut down, a bit like it had the first time she had seen her protectors in person. Luckily, in that case, she had recovered quickly. All thanks to Spider's big mouth.

She continued to observe the woman, resuming her game.

Who was she? She hoped her life was as good as she looked. Where was she going?

Did what Diana was feeling for her mean that she liked women? Diana lowered her gaze, her eyes widening in confusion.

She took a few steps forward. The woman was beautiful aesthetically, but anyone could admit that. If that woman had come to her and made advances, how would Diana react? Would she have accepted them? She doubted it. She hated the advances of men, why would she accept those of a woman?

Did it mean that she did not feel any sexual attraction at all? She was not sure. Kissing Ghost and Whiskey had pleased her, and it had activated strange parts of her body.

She could therefore deduce that she was, at least, attracted to the male gender.

To confirm whether she was also attracted to women, the only thing she could do was find a woman to kiss. She doubted that the men accompanying her would allow it.

She scratched her back, pressing with her nails until it hurt. She hated that she hadn't been able to understand that aspect of herself yet. Maybe, if her adolescence had been different, at almost twenty-one years old she wouldn't have found herself having those thoughts.

It was pathetic.

Unlike what had happened when they arrived in Scotland, the lieutenant didn't send anyone to deliver a car. She had preferred not to reveal to any member of the sect their next destination. And consequently, they had to adapt.

Diana was sure that her men wouldn't have appreciated the idea of leaving their weapons behind, but for her, it was better this way. With their size and experience, they shouldn't have needed weapons. And she was there to protect them if necessary.

Come to think of it, she might have considered them a bit of a drag.

With a barely concealed smile, she pulled to the side and waited for Siva to pass through security. Siva, without even a glance, moved past her. Diana was forced to follow him and try to keep up.

They reached the first available taxi and Diana used the few Japanese phrases she knew. Before getting in, she turned to look for the other men. She found them standing in front of a taxi next to theirs. As if drawn by her gaze, all but Spider shifted their attention to her. Diana offered a flat smile, tempted to wave. She stopped before doing it and climbed into the back with Siva.

Still worn out from the flights, Diana slumped in her seat. Siva had sat far away from her and his gaze was purposely avoiding meeting hers.

Annoyed, but too tired to do anything, Diana closed her eyes and tried to relax. She should have stayed alert and made sure the taxi driver took them to the right place. She knew it was irresponsible to close her eyes. But she needed to get some rest.

Her head slid until it hit the window and Diana fell asleep without realizing it. She woke up with someone touching her shoulder and talking to her. She blinked to force herself to wake, but for a few seconds she couldn’t see anything, it was just too bright.

Siva shook her. “Can you get up and walk?”

Diana slapped his hand away. Without answering, she reached down to grab her backpack and got out of the car. She walked to the driver and gave him far too much money for her taste. Counting the money she had given the others for their taxis, she was sure they would have to come back for cash soon.

She stopped in front of the white building where their hotel was located. The sun was beating down blindingly and hotly on their heads. Diana shifted her gaze to see if the others had arrived. The one-way street was isolated and empty. The people had probably hidden in their cooled homes.

Aside from the Japanese writing, nothing could make her think she was in a foreign country. It could easily have been a neighborhood in the province of Milan. She looked up at the building, counting six floors, full of small balconies. The hotel had a side parking lot full of cars, she hoped not to come into contact with the other guests; on the other side, it bordered other similar buildings, but darker colors and that seemed to be inhabited by locals and not tourists.

Wishing she could lie down and sleep, Diana went in.

The lobby she entered was a standard Western-style one. With a high, smooth ceiling and white tiled floor, it seemed to glow with its own light. Diana’s eyes burned from the excessive light. She didn’t immediately notice that the other four men were already there.

She reached the front desk, eventually stopping next to Yoo, who was already talking to one of the two women standing behind the counter. She gave him a glance, which was immediately returned, then focused on the woman greeting her. Siva stood behind Diana, letting her do everything.

As soon as they finished checking in, Diana rushed to the elevator to go up to the third floor. Whiskey slipped in with them.

Diana knew he was watching her, but she pretended not to notice, waiting for him to speak first. “You can’t sleep,” he said in a fatherly voice. “You have to get used to the jet lag or you’ll end up with crazy hours.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “I know.” Even though she had never flown this far from home, she had heard stories about it. People always complained about their inability to adjust to the time difference during the first few days.

Whiskey, arms crossed and legs spread, lifted his chin and looked at Siva. “I know you both want to sleep, but you must wait until tonight.”

“And what are we supposed to do for all these hours?” she snapped, turning to Whiskey.

The look he gave her made her skin crawl. He answered, without even using words, that he knew an effective way to make her forget about the time difference.

Diana looked away, embarrassed. The elevator doors opening on their floor saved her from melting in there. Whiskey followed them to their room. “Watch some TV and take a shower. But don’t sleep.” Diana quickly opened the door, holding it so Siva could enter first. She tried to close it behind her, but Whiskey grabbed it from above. “See you for dinner. Seven o’clock, in front of the hotel entrance.”

As soon as he took his hand away, Diana closed the door in his face.

Chapter Text

Diana waited for midnight. Seated on the balcony of the hotel room she shared with Siva, she watched the seconds tick by on her phone’s screen. It would have been more correct to look at the Italian time zone. Did it even matter? She was about to spent her twenty-first birthday away from home and alone.

Her heart hurt. If she could, she would have cut it out with her own hands.

“Three,” she murmured. “Two.” Siva was snoring inside the room. In order not to disturb him, and wanting to isolate herself, she had closed the French window. “One.”

She watched the date change.

She put the phone down and hugged her legs, hiding her head behind her knees. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was impossible not to. This was certainly the worst birthday ever.

She remembered how she had spent that same day the year before. Her sister had come to wake her, slipping under the covers of Diana’s bed to disturb her. After many minutes, her sister had managed to convince Diana to leave the room and go to the kitchen.

There, she had found her family waiting. A cake was left on the red tablecloth.

Happy, but sad because her brother was not there, Diana had approached the table. Her father had ruffled her hair as always, while her mother smiled enthusiastically. Her trembling smile should have made Diana guess the surprise that awaited her.

She had sat down, then someone had touched her shoulder. Diana had turned, confused. Her brother's smiling and worried face had welcomed her, leaving her speechless and motionless. The last time they had seen each other she had not been kind to him.

"Happy birthday" he had said in a weak voice.

Diana had not resisted. She had rushed towards him, hugging him tightly. Her brother had not hesitated to reciprocate and she had melted into his embrace.

They had all celebrated together, sitting close to each other. Diana's smile had been radiant. She wished she could go back to that moment!

In the space of a year, everything had changed.

Her father was dead.

She had argued with her sister and brother.

And she had broken her mother's heart.

She tried not to cry. She didn't want to start her twenty-first birthday with tears, but the emotions she was feeling were too intense. She had to give in.

Her attempts to keep tears under control only made them more painful to come out. She clutched her chest, squeezing her pajamas.

She had no idea how much strength she would use to face the coming day. She wiped her nose, knowing that she had to stay silent to survive. She was sure that at the slightest provocation, she would explode, and she didn't want to argue with the five men who were with her.

All she wanted was to be alone, away from everyone and everything, until the next day came.

But she had a duty. A task to save and free herself from the emotions that were still tormenting her. Once the mission was over, everything would be okay.

Maybe occupying her mind with the next challenge was all she needed. Yet, imagining what the Goddess had in store for her made Diana's body feel heavier and weaker.

Diana had passed the first challenge by miracle and only with the help of Whiskey and Yoo. The next challenge would be even more cruel and difficult.

She cursed under her breath, feeling already drained of the strength needed to face it.

It didn’t matter how she felt about it. She had to complete them all.

She looked up at the almost full moon that was lighting up the sky. How could she prepare for what was to come? Maybe the Goddess had hidden a clue within the riddle.

What were the exact words? Diana struggled to remember them. She analyzed both sentences, desperately trying to find a hidden meaning, but she couldn't seem to find anything. It was about the Sun.
Maybe she had to fight against someone or something that could control light? It didn't make sense, she was trying too hard. The right answer was probably the simplest and most banal, and for this very reason, she wouldn't have understood it.

She found herself thinking about the Shinto shrine they had to go to. The only reason she knew about its existence was because of the fourteen war criminals who were listed in the Book of Souls kept there. She had discovered this scandal by chance a year before, hearing about it in a video on the internet, and had ended up in a rabbit hole of information.

Were there criminals like those waiting for her in the next challenge? Cruel people, who had hurt many others?

She felt like she was delirious just to find a way to control the future. It was a useless attempt.

The only person who could have helped her had closed herself in her usual abysmal silence. Just like the moon.

Diana had turned to her countless times, but she had never received an answer. The moon had been watching her since she was born, but Diana had never been allowed to learn its secrets.

Those thoughts made her realize that her brain was shutting down. She had to sleep, even if she didn’t want to let the morning come.

She was an adult. She could control herself and manage her emotions.

She went back into the room, passing through the bathroom before slipping into bed next to Siva, who was still fast asleep. She turned her back to him, preferring a bit of privacy. She didn’t want to close her eyes right away. Instead, she picked up her phone and ended up looking at the photos that had been taken the year before. She saw the smiling faces of her family and wished she could go back to them.

She begged whoever was listening to protect her family.

Please, let them be okay.

She closed her eyelids and curled up into a hedgehog. Sleep wrapped her like a heavy blanket, in a gentle and relaxing embrace.

Do not be afraid, Diana. They are all alive. Words she thought she had imagined, and by the morning, she had already forgotten.

They got ready and ate in a hurry, all eager to get out and get to work. Diana, signaling that she wanted to be alone, put on her headphones and ignored all the others’ attempts to talk to her.

They arrived at the shrine before noon, when the sun was beating down on their heads. Diana was tempted to buy an umbrella to use as protection from the scorching sun. Maybe she could find a nice one somewhere.

Yasukuni Shrine was nestled in civilization, surrounded by modern buildings and what looked like a skyscraper. They reached a small rectangular plaza, still close to civilization. Diana stopped before crossing the enormous tori that marked the entrance to the shrine grounds. She admired its majestic size.

“What is it?” Ghost asked, stopping beside her.

Diana looked at him quickly as she took off her headphones and wondered how he didn’t feel hot wearing all that. She was sweating even in knee-length pants and a short T-shirt.

“Nothing. I’m just admiring what’s in front of me,” she replied, analyzing the large gate. The tori were wooden gates that fit together, composed of two columns that supported an architrave. Diana had read a book about Japanese shrines where she had learned all those specific terms. It was strange to finally be in front of one of them, and not just any shrine, but a shrine that had captured her attention so much.

She lowered her gaze and crossed the tori, advancing along the small stretch of path that preceded the shinmon, which was another gate, made of wood and much more imposing, with three doors and a tiled roof.

As they passed it, they entered a large courtyard, with a path surrounded by squares of dirt filled with green, skeletal trees. Diana scanned the distant structures, spotting the Yushukan Museum and what she assumed was the Nogakudo (a structure used for Noh theater). But her destination was the other torii, which was directly across the way, beyond which she could see the haiden, or main hall.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Whiskey approached her, his gaze hidden behind round, brown sunglasses. Diana’s father had probably had a pair like that in the seventies or eighties. His brow was furrowed, and Diana wondered if he liked the shrine.

“I’m just wandering around a bit,” she admitted.

The shrine was crowded with visitors, most of them taking photos and videos of the view. Diana found herself weaving between them, trying to get to the main area.

After passing the second torii, she stopped to admire the haiden. It was a beautiful structure, with a pointed roof of green tiles, with golden decorations hanging from it. She felt bad for not having better words to describe it, but in person, it was a thousand times more beautiful.

And Diana felt even more alone.

“Do you want to go pray?” Siva asked, stopping behind her.

She looked at the long line of people lined up under the haiden roof. Who should she turn to? The Goddess whose voice occupied her mind, or the God her parents had taught her to believe in? She could only confirm the existence of one of the two.

She shook her head and turned, determined to walk toward the museum.

She walked along the paths lined with trees, imagining how much more beautiful they would be in the spring when their flowers would bloom.

The Goddess’s voice did not come through.

They walked for an hour, wandering through the areas of the sanctuary and taking in their surroundings. Diana could sense that the men around her were getting nervous. Perhaps they suspected she had lied and brought them here because she wanted to waste their time.

A sudden breeze blew through her hair, causing strands to fall in front of her eyes. Diana froze, shivering from the blast of air that had hit her. She looked up at the trees, wondering where or how the wind had come from. She noticed, with subsequent confusion, that the branches and leaves were still as if the wind had disappeared. But she could still feel it.

It was hitting her from behind, urging her forward. Walking toward the small shrine that was located in the western area of the Yasukuni Jinja.

She grabbed her hair, forcing her locks not to hide her view, and willed her feet not to move, as she analyzed what she was hearing.

It wasn't a calling like it had been in the forest. More like the current she had encountered in the lake, it felt like the wind was guiding her in the direction it wanted.

She stopped resisting and moved forward, allowing the wind to carry her toward the small shrine nestled among the trees.

She stopped again, this time because of a sudden fear. Her instincts had reacted out of nowhere, making her tremble and her heart race.

Why was she terrified? She hadn't felt afraid before going through the previous two gates. On the contrary, she had felt lighter and happier.

This time, perhaps because she was learning to listen to her instincts, she was afraid of reaching her destination. She didn't want to go there. Why? What was waiting for her on the other side?

Was it a trap?

She closed her eyes and strained her senses, searching for an explanation. Neither instinct nor the Goddess answered. Diana continued to feel only fear.

She stepped back, resisting as much as she could against the wind, which attacked her with greater force. Diana cursed under her breath.

"What's happening?"

The men were looking at her with confused expressions and Diana sensed that they were not sensing anything. Her gaze, increasingly desperate, sought Siva's. If he could use magic, perhaps he was feeling the same sensations.

"Do you feel it?" she asked in a feeble voice.

Siva opened his mouth and shook his head, the alarmed expression of someone who had no idea what was happening. "What?"

Diana cursed again, clutching her chest. She tried to breathe calmly and carefully to slow her heartbeat, but it seemed useless. As long as she stayed there, she wouldn’t feel well.

“I can’t… No,” she said, speaking more to herself than to them.

She turned, ready to face the wind. But the air seemed to vanish as if it had understood her resolve to leave.

Ignoring the men’s questions, Diana ran.

Chapter Text

Why was she running like a madwoman? Despite having no answer, Ghost took off in pursuit. He had no trouble catching up. He grabbed Diana by the shoulder, forcing her to stop and turn toward him.
“What happened?” he blurted out.

Diana struggled to escape his grip and looked at him as if Ghost were the most annoying thing in the world. Ghost, annoyed by her behavior, which had changed without warning, held her tighter.

Behind him, Ghost heard the shortness of breath of his colleagues who, at different times, had caught up with them. Diana stopped resisting, but her gaze moved from one place to another and she seemed more and more agitated.

Whiskey approached her. Ghost let go of her to allow their captain to take control. It was clear that Whiskey was trying to calm her down, but his words fell to the wind. Diana pulled back, away from Whiskey's hands. Her expression seemed pained as if she were suffering from an unknown illness.

“Not today,” she said in a small voice.

Unsure of what she was referring to, Yoo asked her for an explanation. “You don’t want to do the challenge?”

Diana ran a hands through her hair, squeezing strands in a way that Ghost found painful. “I don’t…” she began, but her voice broke into a strangled sound.

“What’s going on?” Siva stepped toward her. The worry that had distorted his face was common to all the other men, even if each of them was showing it differently.

“Talk to us, Diana,” Whiskey tried again. “If you act like this, we can’t help you.”

“Help me?” she asked with an anger that surprised everyone. “You didn’t even remember that today is my birthday, how could you help me?”

Ghost held his breath. “Is that what all of this is about?” his voice was full of disappointment.

Was all that fuss because they hadn’t thrown her a party? Ghost knew that August 2nd was Diana’s birthday, but he hadn’t said anything. It was just another day for him, who had never found comfort in remembering his birth.

The thought that Diana would fuss over such a trivial reason disappointed him. He looked down at her, remembering he was dealing with a little girl.

Diana let her hair fall and looked at him with watery eyes. Ghost refused to regret having spoken. “Yes,” she murmured in a dejected tone. Then, her frantic gaze was directed elsewhere, in the direction she had run away from and she shivered. “No,” she corrected herself and wrapped her arms in a shaking grip. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Whiskey licked his lower lip. The little girl’s agitation was infecting him. “We haven’t forgotten, Diana,” he said.

He took off his sunglasses and placed them in the open shirt. Ghost’s gaze fell on the buttons that were left open. Even that morning, when he had first seen his shirt, it had seemed too high a slit, as if
his captain wanted to draw the gaze of others to his chest.

Diana looked up at him, still frightened.

“You didn’t mention it,” Whiskey continued, “and we thought you didn’t care.”

Who was that we? He certainly hadn’t spoken with Ghost.

“Of course…” Again, Diana stopped before finishing her sentence. She looked down and trembled. Ghost was tempted to offer a hug to comfort her. “I don’t want to be here,” she admitted.

Siva placed a hand on her arm and she closed her eyes. The little girl took a deep breath; as she relaxed, Ghost imagined Siva was using his power. “Did you hear something earlier, in front of that small shrine?”

The eyes Diana fixed on him were red. She nodded.

“What?”

She bit her lower lip in nervousness. “I can’t explain it.”

Yoo reached out a hand to her cheek, stroking it gently. “Okay, you don’t have to.”

Diana looked up at him and her breathing seemed to finally return to normal. She rubbed her nose and chest, above her heart, and stole one last glance over her shoulder. “Can we leave?” Then, in a more pleading voice, she added, “Please?”

None of them could deny her what she wanted. They quickly obliged, moving together toward the exit of the sanctuary.

Yoo wrapped an arm around Diana’s shoulders and held her close, while Siva massaged her back. Ghost noticed her gaze wandering over her shoulder and wondered what she had heard.

They walked back to the subway, and as they stood waiting, Whiskey approached Diana for a second time. “Tonight,” he began, “do you want to go out to celebrate your birthday?”

Diana shrugged, looking down with regret. Ghost guessed that fear must have blinded her mind, confusing her and making her bring up her birthday. Diana whispered a very low, barely audible “Okay.”

Whiskey looked at his teammates. “We’ll find a place close to where we are.”

“Do you feel like going back to the sanctuary tomorrow?” Yoo asked.

Diana shrugged with a resigned expression. “I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Spider said, surprising everyone. These days, he had always been quiet and aloof, keeping any contact with Diana to a minimum. Consequently, when he broke this rule, which he had put in place himself, it surprised everyone.

Ghost crossed his arms, looking his colleague up and down. He hadn’t decided what to do with him yet. On one hand, he felt the need to kill and hurt Spider for daring to touch Diana, but on the other, he knew it wasn’t his place to chase away a member of their team. Diana seemed to have forgiven him for his crime and they had to accept her will, even if they didn’t understand it.

“Sometimes, there is no choice,” Diana said, turning her attention to the approaching subway. “Sometimes,” she insisted, “a sacrifice is necessary.”

Without saying anything else or listening to their objections, Diana entered the subway. Sitting between them, she seemed lost in thought. Ghost stood before her, watching her morbidly.

He still didn’t understand her. Why couldn’t she confide in them? In him? He thought he had succeeded in making her understand that he cared.

They walked back to their hotel in silence and gathered in the same room to discuss their plans. They asked Diana what she wanted to do, but she was uncooperative. Her mind was still distracted, although less confused than before. Knowing that she liked to go out and act like a normal girl, they suggested walking into one of the liveliest neighborhoods in the city. Diana accepted, but she seemed sad, as if she would rather stay in her room. When Whiskey then suggested that they do nothing, she hugged her legs to her chest, ready to close herself in.

Ghost was starting to lose patience, and so were his teammates. Having no idea what she wanted to do, it was impossible to make any decisions.

Whiskey massaged his closed and tired eyes. He observed the little girl for a while longer, then stood up. "Think about it, okay? We'll talk again in a few hours." He approached and ruffled her hair. “Get some rest.”

Ghost doubted that anything would change.

Diana’s problem was something else. Ghost couldn’t quite pinpoint it yet. He thought back to how his mother had compared them. But Ghost, at least in the present, couldn’t see any similarities.

He was control and security, whereas Diana was chaos and indecision.

Until she could solve what was making her this way, she would never be able to find peace.

Before leaving the room, he gave her one last long look, wondering if such a change was possible, if she would ever be able to escape the suffering she was locking herself in.

Instead of going to his and Yoo's room, Ghost decided to walk and smoke a couple of cigarettes. Knowing that at least one of his teammates would probably have the same idea, he decided to walk away from the hotel, always making sure to stay close enough to not lose his way back.

Lost in his thoughts, while he was leaning against the wall that surrounded a building, Ghost retraced that day, investigating what he had felt. As soon as they had entered the sanctuary, he had filled his eyes with beauty. At dinner, the day before, they had managed to get Diana to explain the history of the place. She had been more than happy to launch into a long monologue in which she had thoroughly discussed the scandal that had led her to discover the sanctuary.

The structure was dedicated to the dead in war, in particular to those who had served the emperor. This meant that the names of some war criminals were also written in the Book of Souls. Ghost had noticed how they had all stiffened around the table, but no one had reminded Diana who she was sitting with. Perhaps she still thought of them as innocent men and Ghost would not risk making their situation worse by showing her that it was not true.

He was not innocent.

His hands were stained with crimes that would have made Diana cry if she had discovered them.

He understood the sense of justice that drove her to accuse the Japanese government of not behaving correctly towards the victims of their imperialism, but Ghost had long since stopped believing that it served any purpose.

The human soul was cruel and dirty. It could not be changed.

He envied the people who still lived in the naive belief that it wasn’t true. Diana was one of those people. And the only thing Ghost could do was protect her, preventing her from seeing the cruel reality they lived in.

He stared at the butt of his cigarette, shaking it to get rid of the last ashes. He put his mask back on and headed back to the hotel, determined to find a way to lift the little girl’s spirits. Before he got there, he stopped at a store to buy something as a show of peace.

When he knocked on the door of her room, Siva came to open it; he told Ghost that Diana had been in the shower for almost half an hour. Ghost sat at the foot of the bed, staring at the bathroom door, waiting for her to come out.

“What did you buy?” Siva asked, pointing to the bag Ghost was holding.

“It’s not for you,” he replied.

Siva sat down next to him and crossed his arms. “Okay,” he said in an offended tone. Ghost turned to glare at him, but Siva reached for the remote and turned on the television, determined to ignore him.

Diana kept them waiting. She emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel tucked under her arms. She froze when she saw that Ghost was there too. Her gaze shifted, confused and embarrassed, from Ghost’s face to Siva’s, both with wide, attentive eyes fixed on her.

“What do you want?” she asked. Flustered, she walked over to the nightstand where she had left her clothes.

The eyes of the two men followed her every move. “Do you need to talk?” Ghost snapped, unable to use a gentler tone.

Diana looked even more confused. “About what?” She brought her clothes to her chest, crushing them against the towel.

Ghost remained still.

“Are you trying to comfort me, Ghosty?” The nickname trembled on her tongue as if she had forced it out.

Ghost grew annoyed. He didn’t respond, just stared at her.

He looked down at Diana’s arms, noticing that she had goosebumps. He watched her back away to go to the bathroom. Ghost stood up, catching up to her before she could escape.

“Here,” he said, handing her the bag.

“What is it?”

“Take it.” He insisted until she grabbed the bag. Diana tucked her clothes under her armpit, trying not to drop them, and looked at the bag's contents.

“You bought me onigiri?”

Ghost looked down at her, lingering on the curves of her body, not hidden by the towel. He found himself imagining what she looked like under there. Her skin was probably still soft and wet. He clenched his fists. “You said you like them.”

Diana put them on the cabinet under the television. “Yes, I do.” When she looked back at him, her brow was furrowed. “Thanks,” she said hesitantly as if she didn’t understand Ghost’s intentions.

Still unable to pull away from her, Ghost asked another question: “Have you decided on tonight?”

Diana lowered her head, blocking his view of her face. “We could go out,” she said. “But I don’t want to do much. I’d like to eat something sweet.”

“Okay,” he said. Unable to help himself, he tucked a few damp strands of hair behind her ear. Even with his gloves on, he could feel her warm, soaked body. “Don’t eat them all at once.”

Diana rolled her eyes but smiled. “They’re my onigiri and it’s my birthday,” she said. “I’ll do what I want.”

Ghost didn’t dare argue. He walked away from her, his chest feeling lighter after seeing her smile because of him.

Chapter Text

One drink wasn’t enough to chase away the emptiness inside Diana.

They were in a large pub, crowded mostly with foreigners. She had hoped the cocktails were good, since the review she had read were great, but the one she had chosen was awful.

The men sitting around her kept trying to have a normal conversation. Diana appreciated their attempts, even though they were useless.

She didn’t want to talk.

She didn’t want to do anything.

She was an empty shell, alone and abandoned on the side of the road.

She forced herself to finish her drink and, as she swallowed forcefully, she turned the glass between her fingers. It was irresponsible of her to continue drinking. Since she had left for this mission, she had been doing it too often. If she continued like this, there would only be negative consequences.

"A healthy body, a healthy mind" was the saying. Diana was hindering both of them and, soon, there wouldn’t be much health left in her.

Still, she pushed out the chair and stood up. Knowing she was drawing attention, she said quickly, “I’ll have another drink.” She took a few steps away and added, seeing Ghost already intent on following her, “Alone, please.”

“Diana.” Whiskey grabbed her wrist and searched her eyes. His expression was hard. “Don’t go too far.”

She nodded, promising that she would only walk to the bar. She would have a second drink and then come right back to them. She just needed a moment alone, away from everyone.

She wandered through the crowd and managed to get to the bar, where a few waiters were serving customers. Not wanting to talk to anyone or be approached, she chose to stand next to an adult woman. Her appearance made Diana think of a local woman, who had just gotten off work. At first glance, she didn’t seem like threatening.

Sitting on the stool next to hers, Diana caught the attention of a waiter, who said he would be with her right away.

She couldn’t wait to return to the hotel, crawl under the bed's covers and close her eyes. Maybe going to sleep drunk would allow her to turn off her brain and she wouldn’t find any nightmares waiting.

“Hi.”

At first, Diana thought it wasn't direct at her. The pub was noisy and there were so many people, it was unlikely that the woman was talking to her. She only realized she was wrong when the woman tapped a finger on the wooden bar, just inches from the arm Diana had resting there.

“Pardon?” Diana asked, turning to the woman.

“I said hi,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Oh…” Diana forced herself to return the greeting, even though she wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, let alone a stranger. “Hi.”

The woman frowned. From her wrinkles, Diana guessed that she was between thirty-five and forty years old. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

The woman didn’t seem to understand that she had made Diana uncomfortable.

Diana didn’t answer right away, preferring to look at the stranger carefully to understand who she was dealing with.

The mysterious woman was elegantly dressed, with a white shirt and a knee-length black skirt. The skirt was tight around her waist, showing off her slim figure. Even her light makeup made Diana think she was just any career woman. Maybe, after a long day at work, she had come into that pub looking for company. And like Diana, she had thought it would be better to look for it in another woman. Knowing that she looked approachable made Diana feel a little better. Diana was fine with intimidating others, but only when those others were dangerous men.

If a man had spoken to her, Diana would have already turned to go back to the few people she trusted. But she had been approached by a woman, and a good-looking one. What could go wrong? At most, she would have received some unwanted advances, to which she could have responded by walking away. After all, the woman didn’t seem strong, and it would have taken very little energy to get rid of her.

Diana looked away, letting her gaze fall on the wooden counter where she had rested her elbows. “It’s my birthday,” she said. She should have told her that she wasn’t alone. She didn’t do it out of curiosity to see how the conversation would evolve. And, besides, she didn’t want to have to explain why she was in a foreign country with five men much older than her. Every lie had weight, and she was tired of it.

The woman’s face lit up. “Really? How lucky!” She showed Diana a smile of very white teeth. “Happy birthday!” She turned and raised a hand to attract the attention of one of the waiters, who came over to her as fast as he could. She said something in Japanese and the waiter nodded. Diana guessed that she had ordered a round of drinks for both of them.

Before leaving, the waiter glanced at Diana. She thought she saw shame in his expression, a poorly concealed discomfort that set off the first alarm bell.

Diana looked back at the woman. “What did you say to him?”

The woman smiled. “I ordered a drink for my new friend,” she replied, winking.

“There was no need,” Diana said quickly.

Waving a hand, the woman insisted that Diana accept her cordiality. “It’s on me, don’t worry!” The same hand she was moving fell on Diana’s arm, squeezing it tightly. Diana looked at her long, red nails.

“What’s your name?” she asked, curious to find out more about the strange woman.

“Does it matter?” Her new friend cocked her head to the side and gave her an arrogant look.

Diana’s skin crawled. A signal she mistook for attraction. After all, what was the difference? Didn’t she feel the same way when the five mercenaries approached her? It was a strange shiver, running through her muscles, often gathering in the middle of her body. A shiver that churned in her stomach.

She mistook danger for butterflies.

The woman squeezed her arm, and Diana felt as if she were being grabbed by the claws of a dangerous creature, clinging to its prey to ensure it wouldn’t escape.

Diana stared intently at the woman's hand.

“You’re so young,” the woman murmured, starting to caress Diana's arm. “And pathetic…”

“What did you say?” she asked, sure she had misheard.

“You look sad,” the woman admitted.

“What makes you think that?”

The woman didn’t answer. She took advantage of the arrival of their two glasses to shift Diana's attention elsewhere. She thanked the bartender, who gave Diana another look, identical to the previous one. The woman picked up her glass, which contained a clear liquid. Diana almost thought that she had ordered water.

Seeing that Diana wasn’t taking her drink, the woman held out her glass. “Go ahead,” she urged. “It’s your birthday!”

Diana examined the red liquid in her drink. Ice was floating on the surface. There was nothing wrong with it.

And yet.

And yet Diana knew she shouldn’t drink it. She felt it in her bones.

Her heart began to pound with nervousness. What was happening? Why had her body gone numb with fear? She stared at the glass, unable to even reach out to pick it up.

Her new friend placed a hand on her shoulder, grabbing it again with the insistence that had surprised Diana a few minutes earlier. Her touch was hot, but Diana made no effort to pull away.

She looked at the woman with alarmed eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” she asked, feigning innocence in Diana’s obvious discomfort. “Is there a problem?”

Diana’s mouth was full of saliva and her hands were starting to sweat. She swallowed, unable to look away from the woman beside her.

Do not drink. The Goddess’s voice confirmed the danger Diana had gotten herself into. Instead of feeling safe, Diana felt weak. Only a foolish, naive, fragile girl would fall for that trap.

She was the perfect victim.

“What did you put in my glass?” Her voice showed Diana’s broken heart.

Why had that person, a woman like her, just betrayed her?

The woman pulled her hand away and her expression hardened. “Nothing,” she defended herself. All her effusiveness disappeared. “What are you insinuating? That I put something in your drink?” She placed a hand on her chest and spoke with indignation as if the mere suggestion that she had committed such a crime disgusted her. “I would never do that! And besides, how could I have? You saw me! I was in front of you the whole time…”

A barrage of words that Diana ignored; she focused on listening to her instincts, which were begging her to leave. But Diana didn’t. She just stood there, staring at the woman.

She grabbed the glass, squeezing it until her knuckles turned pale. “Who do you work for?”

Had she been sent by the people who were looking for her?

No, she’s not with them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman said. Diana watched her pick up her glass and step off the stool, intending to leave. Diana grabbed her arm before she could disappear into the sea of people crowding the pub.

Turn around, the Goddess ordered. Besides the bartender who made the drink, there are two other men. Do you see them? They’re sitting not far from the table yours are at. Their eyes are on you.

Diana spotted them and shivered. Two men in their forties, Asian and balding, were staring at her with nervous expressions, talking among themselves. Their profiles were the perfect representation of a sex offender. Anyone with a modicum of instinct would have avoided them. That’s why they needed the beautiful woman Diana was still holding by the arm.

Diana turned her attention back to the woman and had no problem showing all the hatred she was feeling.

How many people have they hurt?

Many, the Goddess replied. Too many. And that number is not going to decrease anytime soon.

Diana couldn’t let that happen.

Knowing the crime these people were willingly committing, Diana couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

The woman, whose name she didn’t yet know, broke free of her grip and insulted Diana in her native tongue. Diana allowed her to walk away. She faced the glass left on the counter. She leaned on with both hands for stability.

She looked at the red liquid. Can I do it? If I drink…

Why would you do that?

Answer my question!, she blurted out. If I drink, will I be able to kill them all? I don’t want them to… She found it impossible to finish the sentence. The mere thought of being touched by those people made her sick.

Yes.

Then silence, but Diana knew that the Goddess was still there. Knowing that she had left a deity speechless made her laugh.

Together, the Goddess finally answered. It will be horrible and difficult, but we can do it.

“I was tortured, remember?” she spoke in Italian and out loud.

It’s not the same.

Oh, Diana knew.

She knew very well that she was making a mistake.

“I trust you,” she said, raising her drink. “My heart is in your hands.”

All right, the Goddess’s voice sounded anxious. We can do this. You must follow my orders.

Diana raised the glass to her lips. As she downed each drop, she met the surprised gaze of the bartender who had served it. She emptied the contaminated liquid in one gulp.

Diana looked at the empty glass. She raised it and smiled at the bartender. “In the name of all the people they will never hurt again.”

At first, nothing happened. Diana turned and swept her gaze across the crowd. Her five mercenaries were somewhere behind that wall of strangers. She spotted her new friend and felt the weight of her watchful gaze. They both were waiting for the drug to take effect.

In the minutes when nothing happened, Diana began to think she had been mistaken.

Annoyed by the prolonged wait, she took a step forward.

And then it started. The world began to spin. Diana felt weaker, suddenly drained of energy. She felt like she was about to fall asleep.

Quickly, she felt hands grab her to keep her from falling. She turned her head, thinking she would see a familiar face. But she didn’t see any of them. Her men were still at the table where she had left them; alarmed by her absence, they were starting to worry, but they resisted, thinking she was strong enough to defend herself. Ghost thought to himself that he would give her a few more minutes and then get up to find her; a thought shared by all his colleagues.

Diana could see the woman’s disgusted face in a blur. More vulgar insults left her lips, and Diana didn’t need to understand Japanese to know she was calling her a whore.

Don’t answer, the Goddess ordered. Pretend you can’t move.

Diana forced herself to obey, even though all she wanted to do was smash that woman’s face. She would beat her until the woman was unrecognizable.

The woman grabbed one of Diana’s arms and put it around her shoulders. Without hesitating—she had done it so many times before—the woamn began to walk toward the exit. Diana looked back, trying one last time to see her men. She couldn’t.

God… She hoped they wouldn't think she had tried to leave again. She wished they didn’t doubt that she had betrayed them a second time. She would never do it.

She was dragged out of the pub. The cold night air whipped her face. Every sensation suddenly seemed more intense and Diana felt like she was about to faint.

Her body squirmed on instinct, but the woman held her tightly. Footsteps behind them made the hairs on Diana’s neck stand up and, turning around, she found that the two accomplices had joined them. Their disrespectful and disgusting hands took her with ease, treating her as if she were an object at their complete disposal.

She was dragged to a car, which they had parked near the pub, and thrown into the back seat. Her body hit the seats violently and Diana moaned in pain, her head spinning faster. One of the two men climbed into the back with her, but Diana only had eyes for the woman sitting next to the wheel.

Her new friend turned to meet her gaze, and Diana thought her smile was radiant, the smile of someone who arrogantly believed she had already won. “Don’t look at me like that,” the woman said. She reached out to squeeze Diana's knee in a friendly gesture. “A young girl like you, alone, at night, in a new city… You asked for it, didn’t you?”

Diana closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose. She couldn’t fight back. She had to resist. She could do it, she could wait for the best moment to make them pay.

But when she felt the hands of the man sitting next to her start to wander up her legs, Diana lost all confidence.

She had put herself in danger.

A foolish little girl, who had gone to her death, thinking she was strong enough to protect herself.

She opened her eyelids, meeting hungry eyes. She felt the drink and the little she had had for dinner rising in her throat. She forced herself to swallow it all back, but there was a sour taste on her tongue.

Her head hurt; a throbbing behind her right eye that was driving her crazy.

Why did people like them exist?

Life is pain, Diana, never forget that.

Wasn’t Diana’s life until that moment proof of that? She wanted to deny it and argue that it wasn’t true, that life wasn’t just full of pain and suffering, that there was something else. But those objections seemed ridiculous. Because even in those moments when she had felt happiness, it had always been a fleeting emotion. Happiness never lasted. It wasn’t permanent.

Pain was.

Everything always came back to it.

The origin of everything.

Humans were born in pain and would die in pain.

Diana blinked back the tears that were burning her eyes.

She remained still, unable to move. The drug was taking effect and Diana’s body felt heavy, distant, as if it didn’t belong to her. She could only wait for her system to release it, if it even could.

She wondered what would have happened to her if she were an ordinary human. Maybe the drug would have knocked her unconscious.

She forced her eyelids closed and got into character.

She had to let the man continue to touch her.

With her fists clenched, she tried to focus on something else. She imagined what was coming. She couldn’t be unprepared.

Even though she couldn’t do anything immediately, she would make sure that these three people’s lives ended in the worst possible way.

She would destroy their plans and make them regret all the pain they had caused in their pathetic lives.

Diana wouldn’t stop until the world was free of people like them. She would kill anyone who had done or intended to hurt others.

Until every single woman was safe and protected in that suffering world.

Chapter Text

“Can anyone see Diana?” was the question that triggered the panic.

Realizing that she was nowhere to be found, they jumped up one after the other. Their eyes ran all over the room, desperately searching for her.

“Maybe she's in the toilets,” Spider assumed. His uncertain tone made it clear that he didn’t believe it either.

Whiskey grabbed his jacket, which he had draped over the back of his chair. “She would have warned us.”

“I think we should check,” Spider insisted. “Just to be sure.”

Spider moved first, walking briskly toward the toilets. The others scattered, dividing up the areas to look for her. Siva took care of the area to the left of their table, shamelessly asking the other people if they had seen Diana, whom he tried to describe in detail. After almost twenty minutes of fruitless searching, Siva left the place, where Whiskey had decided to meet. Clutching the sweater Diana had left at the table, Siva closed his eyes and extended his senses to locate her. If she were nearby, he would have sensed her blood.

When he opened his eyes, his heart was racing.

“She’s gone,” he said, sure he was about to have another panic attack. “I can’t feel her.”

Ghost clenched his fists; Siva could feel the same anxiety spreading from him. “She ran away again?”

“No,” Whiskey said.

“She wouldn’t,” Yoo said.

“So…” Spider didn’t finish his sentence because everyone was thinking the same thing. If Diana hadn’t run away willingly, it meant she had been taken. Taken from them for a second time.

“We have to find her,” Siva said, speaking more to himself than to anyone in particular.

“How did it happen?” Yoo blurted out, his gaze darting from one place to another.

Siva put his hands to his face, rubbing the muscles until they hurt. “We had her right there…”

She was gone in an instant. They hadn’t even realized it.

“The last time I saw her, she was talking to a woman,” Spider said, rubbing his temples with a frustrated expression.

“Could she be an accomplice to the same people who kidnapped her in Germany?” Siva asked. He advanced toward his colleagues, hating himself for not killing their enemies right away. This time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

He would kill them all.

Every last one.

Until Diana was safe for good.

“Maybe,” Ghost mused. “But I didn’t recognize any familiar faces.”

“She might have been trying to lure Diana out,” Spider guessed. “And then the others we know about joined her.”

No.

Siva froze. His heart stopped beating and it almost felt like someone had put a hand in his chest to steal it.

That voice, which he had heard in his mind, did not belong to him.

"What is happening?" he murmured.

It was not them, Siva.

"Did you hear it too?" he asked in a pleading voice. His eyes searched the faces of his colleagues for an answer, but he received only confused and annoyed looks for the waste of time he was causing them.

"What are you talking about?"

They had not heard it.

Siva put his hands in his hair. "It can't be true... It's impossible."

You summoned me, Siva. You invited me into your mind.

He covered his mouth with both hands, sure that he would puke at any moment.

You are wasting your time, insisted the Goddess.

Siva didn’t want to believe that he had given the creature that had killed his father free access to his mind. The Goddess could do whatever she wanted with him, even altering his memories and emotions. From that moment on, Siva would never be able to trust himself again.

And he had put himself in this terrible situation alone.

He was the worst son ever.

Not only had he given up on completing the mission his family had assigned him, now that too.

He couldn’t allow it.

If he hadn’t been a coward, he would have taken his own life. It was the end he deserved.

Stupid boy, Diana is in danger. Siva stiffened. Are you going to continue ignoring me?

“I’m listening,” he said through gritted teeth. Having no idea how to communicate with her, he spoke out loud, which earned him the puzzled looks of his colleagues, who had continued to discuss the plan to find Diana.

Good boy, the Goddess replied. You need to get in the first available taxi and go to the address I will tell you shortly. Ask Ghost to give you Diana's phone to write down.

"Ghost," Siva snapped, interrupting his colleagues' conversation. "Give me Diana's phone."

He held out a hand to appear more authoritative. Ghost looked wary, and Siva silently begged him to trust him. Still hesitant, Ghost handed over the phone. Siva quickly unlocked the screen and followed the Goddess's instructions. When she dictated the address, Siva repeated it out loud, wanting to make sure it was correct.

“What’s going on?” Ghost asked, stalking toward him.

With tears in his eyes, Siva shouted at him, “She’s in my fucking head!”

“Who?” Whiskey asked, confused.

“The Goddess!” He pressed a finger to his temple, hoping his brains would explode. “She came in when I summoned her to find Diana. Remember? In the church…”

Yoo grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly, as Spider snatched the phone from his fingers.

“Calm down, Siva,” he said. “Take a deep breath.”

“Where does this address lead?” Spider asked, staring at the coordinates.

“To Diana.” Siva squirmed away from Yoo. “They’re taking her there.”

“Who took her?” Whiskey asked, giving him a frightened look. Siva raised his head to the sky, hoping the Goddess would understand that he was waiting for an answer to tell the others. The Goddess explained in a few words what had happened. Siva had the feeling that the Goddess was holding back some important details.

His mouth fell open, in disbelief at what he was hearing.

“What is she telling you?” Ghost asked, seeming to have understood what was happening inside Siva’s mind.

“It’s a group that has been working in this area for years,” he summarized. “They target young, foreign girls who are out drinking.”

He saw his colleagues’ faces turn pale.

“Her drink was drugged,” he concluded.

They spent a few essential seconds staring at Siva, all four unable to speak and process the information.

Spider was the first to recover. He crossed the sidewalk, passing a group of girls who were walking toward a taxi they had hailed. Realizing that the others were not following him, he turned. His expression was dark and he managed to push the girls away, frightened by him. "Let's go," he ordered.

The others ran after him.

Chapter Text

Diana was dragged out of the car. Her vision was still blurry and she struggled to make out her surroundings. She forced herself to keep her eyelids open, ignoring their fluttering.

She made out the shape of a two-story house. The woman was in front of them, one hand pressed against the door she was holding open.

Her head was pounding, and Diana just wanted to fall asleep. Her body was lying to her, saying that if she just closed her eyelids the pain would go away, but Diana knew she couldn’t trust it. She couldn’t fall asleep. If she did, she would give up, allowing these people to win and continue to cause harm.

But giving up would be so easy… One small lapse, just one moment, and she would pass out, abandoning herself to total darkness.

Do you want to hear a story, Diana?

She knew the Goddess was trying to keep her awake.

“Mmm” had to be a yes.

She was quickly taken into a room, and there she was thrown to the floor. She hit it hard, hurting her head. The pain spread throughout her body, making her feel worse.

Once upon a time, there was a girl, a little younger than you and with the same ideals. Diana thought that the Goddess liked to start her stories that way. A war, bloody and on a large scale, took away her loved ones. Forced to fight not to disappoint her ideals, the girl lost everything she had loved.

Diana heard distant voices that, even if she had been at the peak of her abilities, she would not have been able to understand. She imagined that her captors were deciding how to act, how to torture her… Diana knew that there would only be more pain waiting for her.

That's why she couldn't sleep.

A cruel god offered her a way out, a way to escape her misery and gain the power that would allow her always to win.

Did she get it?

Of course, she did. To get it, she had to kill everyone. Because only pain can make you powerful.

Diana didn't like the story and didn't understand why the Goddess was telling it. However, she had to admit that it had managed to keep her conscious. Instead of giving in to oblivion, Diana listened to it, wondering who the girl was.

Could it be the Goddess herself? She received no confirmation.

She heard a door close and then a deep silence fell on the room where she was.

Be calm, the Goddess ordered.

Can you tell me what's happening?

You are in an almost empty room. It’s small, a rectangle just two meters wide and three meters long. The walls are soundproof. No one will hear you scream.

Diana couldn’t help but imagine the women (she thought their victims were mostly female, but she suspected it couldn’t be just them) who had been locked in there.

There’s a man, the Goddess continued. The one who was sitting in the back with you. He’s setting up the camera.

Diana felt the vomit rising in her throat.

Hold it. Or you won’t be able to protect yourself.

Diana breathed in and out only through her nose, swallowing to keep the vomit down.

Here’s the situation: the drug in your system is strong, it will take more time to throw it back. You can’t trust your instincts because the drug has weakened you. But I’m here.

Can I use my Blessing?

Yes. But it may take longer to recharge. Let’s use these minutes to come up with a plan.

Diana waited for silence. Her body ached. She tried to move her fingers, testing how limited her movements were.

Wait until the man gets close. As soon as you feel his breath on your face, open your eyes, make sure he is close, and scream. Scream as loud as you can. You have to knock him out, Diana. We’ll deal with the rest later.

Diana understood. Would she be ready to do it? She wasn’t sure, and not knowing made her feel worse.

She wanted to squirm, move in some way, and run away from there. Forcing herself to stay still, so she could gather as much energy as possible, was difficult. Almost impossible, and she felt like she was going crazy.

She tried to use her other senses, but her ears were muffled, much more than before, and she wondered if it was the panic that was growing more and more intense.

The Goddess should have told her another story, maybe one that was happier and less depressing.

I prefer tormented stories.

Can’t we at least talk?

Not now.

The Goddess was right. Diana had to stay focused.

Every second she waited brought her closer to exploding.

Get ready, the Goddess warned, and Diana heard footsteps approaching.

Her heart began to beat faster and Diana tried with all her might not to shake. She couldn’t let him know she was conscious or it would ruin everything.

She felt the man approach. He crouched over her, his feet resting on either side of her body.

He lowered himself onto her.

She felt his hands touch her shirt. He lifted it and Diana got goosebumps. She wanted to clench her fists until her nails dug into her flesh.

The man shifted, sitting up and lifting her legs so they were over his, which he had crossed. Diana hated the way he was touching her. She felt dirty.

But no amount of showering could rid her of that touch.

The man lowered himself to her stomach. His tongue, slimy and hot, licked her belly.

Diana felt the scream building in her throat. Its power thrashed aggressively and she pressed her lips together to keep it from releasing.

The man laughed and said something she couldn’t understand. But she was sure that having all that power over her made him feel good. Excited.

Diana felt tears sting her eyes.

It wasn’t fair.

Why did people like him exist? If life was fair, no one would have the power to hurt anyone else.

But the reality was different.

And she always found out the hard way.

The man climbed closer to her face. Not yet close enough.

Diana felt the scream continue to thrash inside her, more powerful with every second she spent holding it in.

The man’s grip tightened around her throat, squeezing the scream, and Diana knew she couldn’t hold it in much longer. It was in her mouth, burning her tongue and palate.

Finally, she felt it.

His breath, heavy and smelling of alcohol, brushed her cheek.

Diana’s eyes widened, meeting his dark, arrogant ones. She gave him a second. She saw the confusion and surprise that made his smirk flicker.

Then she did it.

She let out all the voice she had mustered.

His fingers, still wrapped around her throat, let go violently. He tried to cling to her, using his nails to scratch her. But Diana didn’t stop.

She screamed and screamed.

No one could hear her anyway, right?

The man was thrown backward. He hit the wall with his head and body, making a pleasant noise. Like him, the few pieces of equipment in the room were also thrown against the walls.

Diana rolled onto her side, coughing in despair. She spat her saliva onto the floor, her stomach churning with the burning desire to vomit. Maybe her body was trying to expel the drug.

She looked up, moving her gaze around the room. With satisfaction, she saw that she had destroyed the camera. Then, her eyes, still a little blurry, rested on the man who had collapsed on the floor.

Diana pushed herself up on her hands and feet, forcing herself to stand. Her first steps were shaky and she almost fell back to the ground. Still dizzy, she dragged herself to the man.

She made him lie down with his back pressed to the floor; she put him in the same position she had been in until a moment before. She got on top of him, sitting on his stomach.

He was truly unconscious.

At least for now.

Diana gritted her teeth as she reached for his neck. She held it between her fingers, squeezing harder and harder.

The man began to struggle, regaining consciousness, but it was too late. Even if he had reacted sooner, he would have had no chance against her. Even though the Goddess had told Diana that her power would take longer to charge, Diana could already feel it in her gut. It felt like a stormy ocean, just waiting to be poured out.

Diana continued to squeeze.

The man opened his eyes and mouth wide, desperately gasping for air.

But Diana didn't even give him a moment to breathe.

She brought their faces closer, watching him suffocate.

The man threw his hands at Diana's face, trying to push her away. A futile attempt, because she squeezed until she felt his nails dig into his flesh.

He groaned beneath her. His eyes rolled back in their sockets.

Diana didn’t stop squeezing even when he went still.

Enough.

She didn’t pull away. Instead, she moved a little closer and let out another scream. She didn’t need to use much power, just a tiny amount. She watched the shockwave move the muscles in his face.

If she learned to use her power better, would she one day be able to destroy with her scream, instead of just chasing away what was in her wave?

Diana, let him go.

“Is he...” She was breathing hard. “Dead?”

Yes.

She hesitated to let go of his neck.

To be safe, and because she was still tired and weak, she would have gladly held her hands clasped around his throat for a little longer. She forced herself to pull away. She sat down with her back against the wall and the body a few feet away.

She stared at the empty space in the center of the room. There was a futon in the middle. They must have left her on it, but she hadn’t even realized it.

Breathe and calm down.

Diana leaned her head against the wall, banging it unconsciously. Her hands were throbbing and when she looked at them, she saw the blood that had collected in her nails. She felt disgusted, but she couldn’t go back.

The man would now be added to the long list of people Diana had killed. Their ghosts would haunt her forever.

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She wanted to sleep, she was so tired…

Our duty is not done. She didn’t need the Goddess to remind her of that.

“Just a…” she didn’t have the strength to finish the sentence. All she needed was a moment of rest.

If you fall asleep, you won’t wake up. Diana, open your eyes.

A sudden jolt of energy brought Diana to her feet. Diana staggered forward, almost falling on her face.

“What was that?” she managed to ask.

That energy certainly hadn’t come from her.

Come on.

What had happened? It almost seemed as if the Goddess had infused Diana with some of her energy. Hadn’t the bond between them been severed after He had used it to his advantage? Still unable to understand how their relationship worked, Diana waited for an explanation. She would have been happy with a partial explanation or a lie.

She received nothing.

She leaned against the wall, using its stability to her advantage. She caught her breath, and since her mind was less foggy, she could plan her next steps.

“What awaits me behind that door?”

The woman and the other man are discussing money. She wants more. After what happened with you, she feels uneasy. For the first time, she feared she had been caught. She felt in danger.

Diana was filled with joy and satisfaction. She wasn't going to give up and make that woman feel only a little bit of danger. She needed more.

“What should I do?”

The Goddess did not answer immediately, making Diana think she was also pondering the best course of action.

They are drinking tea. In a few minutes, the woman will bring the cups they used to the kitchen.

“Where are we?” she asked. “At one of their houses?”

The house is owned by one of them, who inherited it from his parents who died a few years ago. No one lives here, it’s only used for…

“I got it,” she interrupted. “I’ll wait and then what?”

As soon as you open the door, try to do it softly and slowly, without drawing attention. You’ll find an old telephone on the right, not really near you, the kind with the cord. You should be able to pick it up and use it against the man.

“Tell me when it’s time.”

Diana reached the door, stopping with her hand on the handle. She rested her forehead against the cold wood, finding comfort in its safety.

She didn’t want to leave. But if she didn’t, the other man would probably walk in and find her with the dead body of his accomplice, and the situation she was in would only get worse. She had to resist, put aside what she wanted, and finish the mission.

She wasn’t just doing this for herself.

She owed it to all the people who had been brought there and abused. And to those who would be brought in the future if she didn’t stop them.

Diana had been given a power she couldn’t afford not to use. She was blessed. If it weren’t for the Goddess, that woman would have taken advantage of her.

But if it weren’t for the Goddess, Diana would never have been in that place.

Get out.

Like the pawn she was, Diana turned the handle. She opened the door carefully, peering outside to see what was happening.

She found herself in a calm, quiet living room. A man, sitting on a red couch, had his back to her. One of his arms was stretched out along the back of the sofa and his legs were on the table in front of him (Diana only saw this detail after she got closer). He was alone and wasn’t paying attention to her.

Diana closed the door. She didn’t have time to take a closer look at the room she was in; she immediately started looking for the phone the Goddess had told her about. She found it on a wooden cabinet, near a cylindrical lamp. As the Goddess had said, it was an old model, with a long, coiled cord.

Would it be enough to reach the man?

Yes.

Diana trusted her. Even if she had doubted the Goddess, she didn’t have time to create a strategy on her own. The Goddess was proving to know everything, and Diana had every intention of taking advantage of it.

She grabbed the receiver, held it tightly, and aimed it at her target’s skull, who was unaware of what was happening behind him. If he had known, what would he have done? He would probably lunge at her, attacking, and Diana wouldn’t be able to defend herself, not having fully recharged her scream yet.

She had to seize the opportunity given to her.

She advanced slowly, moving her gaze from the target’s head to the floor where his feet were resting. She stopped behind him, surprised that he hadn’t sensed her yet.

But why would he let his guard down and suspect what was happening behind him? Their victim had been drugged, unable to do anything. The man had nothing to fear.

Diana looked at the phone she was holding. It was clean, innocent. She almost felt guilty for what she was about to do. Not because she was about to steal yet another life, but because she would stain the object with such an impure act.

She studied the best way to wrap the cord around her target’s neck, then, she told herself that she was wasting time.

She just did it.

The man, the beast, didn’t have time to move away. Diana continued to wrap the cable around him, tightening it as much as she could until the rope ran out. The man immediately struggled, trying to free himself from the thread that was choking him.

He groaned in a hoarse, breathless sound. Diana remained impassive, too focused on her work.

She saw him kick, perhaps to make noise and attract the woman. Instead of stopping him, she leaned closer to his ear. She spoke to him in English, wishing he would understand. “I hope hell exists only because people like you will surely go there.”

The man, who was turning purple, kicked the table violently, almost tipping it over. But his noises attracted no one.

Diana looked away from him, letting her gaze slide to the other doors in the room. She recognized the main one, then saw another, wide open and leading to a room with the light on. She strained her ears, but it was impossible to hear any sound other than the agonized cries of the man she was killing.

What was her friend doing? Why wasn't she saving her accomplice?

Maybe she had understood what was happening and was too paralyzed by fear to intervene.

Diana, while focused on the woman, missed the last seconds of her victim's life. When she looked down, the man had stopped resisting. His expression was blank, his neck red and crushed, while his body had gone still.

She let him go slowly.

Her mind couldn't process what she had done.

Maybe it was all a dream and she would wake up soon.

But, even if it was a nightmare, she had to keep going. She couldn't rest or stop until the woman was dead. And she wouldn't be content with just suffocating her.

No, she wanted to see her suffer.

With a look blinded by violence, Diana aimed at the open door. She moved calmly. She wasn't in a hurry. She no longer needed to escape.

The scream inside her hadn’t recharged yet, but she knew she didn’t need it. And honestly, she didn’t want to use it. Not against her.

Since she had received the energy shock, her mind had calmed down, stopped hammering in pain. Her thoughts weren’t agitated. On the contrary, they were all focused on one goal.

Diana reached the kitchen with the calm of a person who carried with her infinite ghosts. She looked inside and, relaxing completely, leaned against the door jamb, her arms crossed over her chest.

The woman had her back to Diana, while she washed the cups.

“How much do they pay you?”

Chapter Text

Diana watched her flinch.

Diana didn’t move, allowing the woman to process what was happening. She turned toward Diana and gripped the sink tightly.

“How…” Her expression changed to terror.

Diana took the opportunity to enter the kitchen. She felt like a feline cautiously approaching its prey, a sensation that filled her with strength and pride.

She was tired of feeling like weak prey, in a world of hungry predators.

At the same time, she hated that she was acting this way with another woman. They should have been allies, together against a world built against them. Instead, she, this strange woman who had approached her, had turned on their common enemy, allying herself against her and their sisters.

How dare she?

Had she been forced to do it?

Diana doubted it. If the woman had to lure others into this trap, she would never have spat in Diana’s face or told her it was her fault.

She cocked her head to the side, admiring the frightened features of her prey. “Are they paying you well?” she asked again. “I hope so.”

The woman looked away. Betraying her thoughts, she turned to the knives on the counter next to the sink. When the woman looked back at Diana, she found a crazed grin waiting, which made her shiver.

Diana knew that in legal terms the woman’s crime was less serious than the two men’s, but for her it was different. There were too many emotions involved, which could not be set aside.

Diana had trusted this woman. She had chosen to sit beside her, thinking she was near someone she could trust.

“Take it, go ahead,” she urged. “Take the knife.”

The woman didn’t have to be told twice. She grabbed the first one that came into her sight: long, sharp, and serrated. Diana saw in a flash the bullets piercing her body. She shook her head to get rid of the feeling.

“Stay back,” the woman warned.

Diana found her terrified eyes. Behind a layer of fear, she saw the tenacity of her prey. She would not hesitate to defend herself and do what was necessary to get out of that house alive.

Diana would not let her.

She could not. “Do you understand?” She was surprised she had said it out loud.

The woman’s confusion lasted only a few seconds. Diana saw her eyes wander around the room and then return to her, and she understood that her prey was analyzing the situation. She wondered what strategy she had created to deal with her opponent. Would she attack Diana directly, trying to strike in the heart? Diana hoped she would; she wanted to see the terror rise on her face at the realization that Diana was not easy to kill.

“Have you ever felt guilty?” Diana asked, taking another step forward.

The woman reached between them, pointing the knife at her. “Not another step!” she ordered. Diana could hear her accent deepening with fear.

Diana paused and waited for her to answer. Realizing that the woman wasn’t going to, she continued. “I think so,” she said. “At night, probably. When you’re alone in bed and staring at the ceiling. There, you get lost in the faces of the people you’ve condemned.”

“No, I don't,” the woman corrected. Her lips stretched into a wicked smile. “I feel no shame or guilt. You all asked for it.”

That phrase, again. Diana almost lost control, giving in to the deepest anger she had ever felt. She felt it for just a moment, and she was afraid of herself.

“Stupid foreign whores getting drunk…”

Diana looked at her more closely, realizing she was looking at a fragile, broken woman. How often had she heard those words to start believing they were true? They must have been drilled into her until they had sunk in. Or, they had always been there and Diana was wasting time trying to find a reason to forgive her, to give her another chance.

It would have taken very little, a measly moment that could have pushed her to believe there was still hope for the woman.

“What did you expect?” The woman gripped the knife with both hands, trying not to tremble. “That going out alone and drinking wouldn’t have consequences?”

Sighing, because she had found an answer, Diana continued walking.

“Don't move!” the woman shouted, this time with a more desperate voice.

Diana ignored her. There was no point in wasting time reasoning with her.

When the woman seemed to realize that Diana would not stop, she lunged for her. Diana stared at the blade that was approaching her side. She had time to grab the woman's wrists, but she did not stop the blow.

She felt the blade dig into her flesh. She tightened her grip on the woman, preventing her from moving.

She closed her eyes and was thrown into the past. Her hands were covered in blood, the blood of her father, whom she had just killed; and her body was covered in dripping holes.

It's not real. Diana felt the pain spread throughout her body. She tried to hold on to it, allowing it to pull her from the past.

Her eyes widened, staring into the watery ones of her prey. “No prayer can stop me,” she warned, looking at her without blinking. “After all, you asked for it, didn’t you?”

Diana saw confusion twist the woman's beautiful features. Before the woman could react, Diana headbutted her. She aimed for the nose, and the sound, a pleasant crack, that spread across the silent room, made her sure she had managed to break it.

The woman screamed and Diana allowed her to move away. Diana watched as she backed away, both hands going to her bleeding, broken nose. She cursed in Japanese and tears joined the blood that was staining her lower face.

Diana thought she would have liked to use all that red to paint a beautiful autumn landscape.

Diana waited until the woman had returned her eyes to her. Then, ignoring the pain, Diana grabbed the hilt of the knife still stuck in her side.

She smiled.

She planned to remove the knife, but the woman decided otherwise. In desperation, and probably having understood Diana's intentions, she threw herself at her again. Diana felt the woman's hands reach her neck. She stepped back but did not stop the woman from grabbing her.

They left the kitchen, returning to the living room. The woman began to squeeze Diana's neck, and Diana grabbed her wrists, pressing them to hurt her. The anxiety of finding out how the woman would react to the sight of her accomplice's corpse prevented Diana from perceiving the pain and fear.

The woman's eyes gradually opened, showing she was starting to understand what (who) was lying on the couch. Her lower lip trembled and a sob escaped her.

Had she cared about him?

Diana found that unforgivable.

Without even a groan of pain, Diana took the knife from her side. She didn’t look down from the woman’s face, not needing to. Her hands acted on instinct.

Diana plunged the blade into the stomach of the woman who had betrayed her.

Her prey’s face paled and Diana regained her gaze; her lips were full of blood and tears.

“You asked for it,” she repeated. “What did you think you were doing, going out alone, at night, dressed like that, hum? Your actions have consequences, Akane.”

Diana was surprised by that voice, which didn’t seem to belong to her.

When had she learned the woman’s name? Perhaps she had heard it in the car.

“Please,” Akane Suzuki murmured.

Diana shook her head. “No,” she said reproachfully. “I warned you.”

She took the knife out and put it back in, choosing another spot.

The woman moaned and her head fell forward, hitting Diana's shoulder and filling it with blood. Diana didn't care that it would stain the shirt she was wearing. When she remembered the wound in her side, she laughed.

She took the knife out a second time and stuck it higher, hitting Akane's right lung. Then, she went lower, to her left side.

When it came out of her for the last time, the woman was defenseless. Diana could hear her breathing weak and irregular. She grabbed the back of Akane's neck, forcing her to look up as life left her eyes.

Diana enjoyed the arrival of her death.

As soon as she let go, the woman fell to the ground.

She would never hurt anyone again.

She was bleeding to death and she only had a few minutes left. There was no need to do anything else.

Diana's mission was over.

But Diana didn’t stop. Why wasn’t she satiated with blood? She wanted more. What was filling her hands and staining her clothes wasn’t enough.

She leaned over Akane's body, as she had leaned over the first man she had killed that night. Looking straight into her dying eyes, Diana squeezed her neck. The woman spat more blood at her, but Diana didn’t feel disgusted.

She squeezed until she felt her bones between her fingers.

She squeezed even when her prey was already dead.

She let go slowly, staring into that finally lifeless gaze.

A sigh, perhaps more of a moan, left Diana's dry lips. Her legs gave out and Diana fell on her butt, hitting the ground hard. The pain shot through her body and suddenly seemed impossible to ignore.

She cursed under her breath, finding no other way to vent.

The pain made her dizzy and Diana pressed her hands to her closed eyes. When she opened them, she looked at her palms, stained red, and seemed taken aback.

The realization had just hit her: it was all real, it had really happened.

She stared at her hands, her breathing becoming ragged. Shaking, she pulled them away from her face and looked down at the last life she had taken.

The woman was dead. Diana was safe.

The people who had tried to hurt her had, at her hands, gotten the end they deserved.

She held her breath, making a pathetic noise, followed by sobs. She tried not to cry.

She was a murderer, a monster who had just taken the lives of three people, in cold blood.

All that talk about them deserving it faded from her mind, leaving a mess of confusion, regret, and hatred. She pressed her bleeding palms to her eyes again, as if that would be enough to keep the tears from coming out.

A too-strong breath stole her a groan of pain and she was reminded of the wound in her side. She looked down at her torn shirt, whimpering again. She lifted the fabric, finding that the wound was already healing, faster than she would have expected.

Her flesh was still red, reminding her of a newborn baby. The hole was slowly, and before her eyes, disappearing. But Diana continued to feel pain, feeling the wound as if she were still bleeding.

Her body began to shake and she felt an icy cold passing through her.

A sudden knock on the door made her jerk. Diana jumped up in fear and, ignoring the protests of her aching body, she backed away. Not looking where she was putting her feet, and in a panic, she tripped over the coffee table in front of the sofa. She fell backward, landing on the floor.

At the same time, whoever was on the other side was trying to break down the door. She heard screams and immediately assumed the worst. It could only be the police, who had been informed of what had happened in that house and had now arrived to arrest her.

Diana had destroyed everything, ruined the mission. She thought of the people she had disappointed.

What would her mother think if she saw her locked behind prison bars?

She sobbed and clutched her side, pressing on the wound. Just touching it sent a shock of pain through every fiber of her body. Diana squeezed her eyelids in pain and didn’t see the moment the door was torn off its hinges.

But she felt it hit the ground.

She heard the footsteps of five men rushing into the house.

Sure that before her there were the faces of the people who would condemn her, she was tempted to never open her eyelids again.

She did so only after hearing the voice of one of them.

“Diana.”

Her head snapped up.

She was surprised to see them.

She hadn’t thought they would come. How had they managed to find her?

She watched the men advance and wondered if it was all a dream. Maybe the drugs had taken over her and she had imagined it all. Maybe she had never even gotten out of the car. How could she tell what was real?

Without realizing it, she tightened her grip on the hand holding her side. The pain that shot through her as she moved confirmed that it was real.

After the pain, she felt a wave of relief spread.

Even though she had disappeared for a second time, they had been looking for her. They had come for her.

She met their worried gazes. The five men seemed frozen as they analyzed the situation they had found.

“Diana, are you okay?” Ghost asked, the first of them to recover and walk over to her.

Diana stopped trying to hold back her tears. Even though she didn’t deserve to cry like a child, she let out loud sobs.

Siva crouched down beside her, but he didn’t touch her, as if he was afraid of hurting or even breaking her. “Where are you injured?” His terrified eyes scanned her every inch, finally settling on her side.

“I’m fine,” she lied softly.

“Let me see,” he ordered, reaching out to lift her shirt.

Diana was too weak to resist. She let him, and when his hands touched her, she flinched at the sudden contact, which felt hotter than lava.

“What happened?” Yoo asked. He was advancing toward her, but he stopped in front of the woman’s corpse lying a short distance away from Diana. His gaze fell on the body. Yoo remained impassive, proof that he was no stranger to the sight of a dead body, but Diana couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.

She looked away, down at the pool of blood that had stained the wooden floor. “I…” She stopped, unable to finish the sentence. How could she explain what she had done without thinking about it? She sobbed and hid her mouth behind her hand.

She didn’t want them to see her as a monster.

Whiskey crouched down next to her and stroked her head. “It’s okay,” he reassured. His voice was gentle, like a warm hug. “We’re here now. You don’t have to fight anymore.” Diana wanted to throw her arms around his neck and let herself fall into his arms. Pride kept her from moving. Whiskey looked down at her body. “Can you get up? We have to get out of here.”

Even though Diana nodded, her men helped her to her feet and she didn’t push their hands away. Seeing that Diana was hesitant, Whiskey held her by the arms. “I’m sorry.” Diana wasn’t sure why she was apologizing. Was it for leaving without telling them? Because she had made them worry? Because they had to find a way to fix this mess now? Or was she begging them to forgive her for committing murder?

Or maybe she wasn’t asking them for forgiveness.

Whiskey cursed and in an instant Diana found herself wrapped in his arms, in a warm, deep hold. Her body reacted instinctively, letting go. She hid her face in the crook of Whiskey’s neck. There, feeling protected, she cried without restraint. Whiskey comforted her with short, reassuring sentences, at the same time resuming his caress of her hair. He didn’t seem to mind touching her, even though she was covered in sweat and blood.

Diana filled her nostrils with his strong, masculine scent. She hated not having better words to describe it.

Yoo approached her from behind and rubbed her back, his knuckles moving up and down her spine. Diana could feel the other men shifting around them and imagined they were examining the crime scene.

“Don’t worry,” Whiskey insisted. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Yoo’s hand moved up to her neck to massage it. “You’re safe.”

Diana nodded and tried to regain her composure, but she didn’t move away from the comfort the two were giving her. She was surprised at herself and how much she wanted to stay there, close to them.

“We’re not safe here,” Ghost said.

Diana looked up, seeing that he had entered the soundproof room. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the thought that Ghost had seen the first man’s body. Why? He wasn’t the one she had stabbed so badly.

She started to move away from Whiskey, but he held her still. Diana gave in again and pressed her head back into his shoulder. “We can’t leave,” she said softly.

Whiskey’s hand was firm on her uninjured side. Diana felt the pleasant warmth of it. “The longer we stay here, the more exposed we’ll be.”

Diana shook her head. “I killed them,” she said, not sure they understood. Why weren’t they terrified of her? She was disgusting! Unforgivable. Yet these men were looking at her as if they would do worse just to stop her crying.

She felt strange.

“My footprints…” she tried to explain.

Spider cursed and wiped a hand over his mouth. “We need to get rid of any evidence that leads to you.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Siva said determinedly. His serious expression seemed convincing. His eyes were steady on Diana and begged her to let him prove he wasn’t lying. When she nodded, Siva looked at his colleagues and added, "Get out of here. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“What do you have in mind?” Yoo asked, taking a step back. Diana missed his closeness.

Siva’s expression darkened. “I’m going to burn this fucking place.”

Chapter Text

For Yoo, it was all happening too fast.

He stared at the flames, burning high into the night sky. They had risen instantly, making him wonder how their colleagues had managed to start a fire of this magnitude.

They were far from the burning house, standing safe on the sidewalk.

Siva waited until they walked away before acting.

Yoo tightened his grip on Diana’s shoulder and continued to watch the fire spread.

An explosion erupted in the silence of the night, sending the flames higher and higher. Yoo found it strange that they weren’t spreading to the houses nearby. The fire seemed controlled and contained.

Diana fidgeted, and Yoo looked down on her. Even though she was between them, protected, Yoo couldn’t help but worry.

They should have gotten there sooner. Protect her from what she was forced to do.

He promised himself he wouldn’t make the same mistake, but it seemed like an empty promise. They wouldn’t be able to keep it. He hoped it was just his pessimism talking and not a premonition.

Diana moved away from Whiskey just enough to raise her head and stare wide-eyed into the flames. She seemed entranced, enraptured by the dance of that terrifying fire.

Ghost shifted, blocking her view so he could get her attention. Diana blinked as if she had snapped out of hypnosis. “There’s no point in staying here,” he said, turning his head to look at the house, which was now collapsing.

The explosion, perhaps more than the flames, had attracted the neighbors, who were starting to come out of their homes. Soon, the sirens of the police and fire departments would arrive. “Ghost is right.”

Whiskey tightened his grip on Diana’s body and she rested her head on his chest. “We can’t leave without Siva.”

Ghost glared at their captain and Yoo seemed to detect a hint of jealousy in his voice. “He’ll be fine.”

Yoo was about to agree and add that Siva would be able to handle himself when Spider interrupted. “He’s coming out, I can see him.”

Their gazes returned to the ruins. Once they confirmed that it was true, Whiskey started moving. But Yoo found it hard to concentrate on walking.

He stared in shock at the scene before him.

Siva was a black silhouette, surrounded by hot flames, which didn’t seem to be doing anything to him. He emerged unharmed. His hair was flying, his palms relaxed, and his clothes intact. His eyes, which seemed to glow red in the darkness of the night, wandered until they settled on Diana and the men surrounding her. His expression was a wild and satisfied smile.

“Let’s go,” Ghost urged them, moving to the front of the group.

Yoo looked away, but he had time to see Siva advancing towards them with a calm and slow pace, as if in no hurry to catch up.

They were his prey, and he would never lose them.

They walked through the quiet neighborhood where Diana had been taken. Being a residential area, it was on the edge of town, in an area that was difficult to reach without a car. They walked until Spider made them stop in front of a vending machine. For the first and only time, Yoo was grateful that Japan was full of them. They bought two bottles of what looked like water and emptied them on Diana's hands and arms to wash away the blood. The girl, who had been in a painful silence, did not object. She let herself be manipulated as if she were a doll.

She allowed them to fix her and even accepted Ghost's jacket, which they put to hide her blood-stained shirt. They would get rid of that later. Siva said he would take care of it and that for now, it was best to leave it on Diana, since a bloody shirt was difficult to hide from curious eyes.

Ghost’s jacket was huge on her, almost reaching her knees.

She looked even smaller and more fragile. Yoo had to remind himself that she had just killed three people. He couldn’t believe it.

How could that little girl have committed such a sin?

It seemed impossible. Diana didn’t look like she would hurt a fly.

Whiskey wet his hand and rubbed Diana’s cheeks, wiping away the tears and sweat from her face. Diana closed her eyes, allowing him to do to her whatever he wanted.

When they were satisfied, they examined Diana one by one, making sure she didn’t draw any suspicion. Diana didn’t return any of their gazes, just stared blankly into space.

They reached the nearest bus station. Trusting the directions on Diana’s phone, they took a bus to the subway. After almost an hour, when it was almost morning, they arrived at the hotel. The hall was empty and they walked through the silent corridors, trying to make as little noise as possible. Concern for that little girl who clearly hadn’t recovered from what had happened, pushed all six of them into her room.

Diana walked toward the bathroom, but Whiskey stopped her. Taking her face between his fingers, he spoke to her in a gentle voice. “Diana, baby girl, can you shower alone?”

She gave him a look full of pain. Yoo recognized it as the same one he saw in the mirror every time he came back from a difficult job. The voice that came out of her was feeble. “Yes,” she seemed to have the strength to answer with only that monosyllable.

“Okay.” Whiskey caressed her chin and encouraged her to go into the bathroom. Before she closed the door behind her, he promised her that they would stay out there and that she could call them if she needed to.

Diana nodded absently.

As she washed herself, the men thrashed around the room, unable to stay still, either physically or mentally. They all seemed to have been waiting for Diana to walk away to talk about what had happened. They needed to understand the danger they were in.

“The police might trace us,” Whiskey said. He was sitting at the foot of the bed, his legs spread, one hand pressed to his knee.

“I burned it all down,” Siva promised, walking in front of him. He hadn’t stopped moving since he had emerged from the flames. Yoo felt like he was dealing with a hyperactive child. “There’ll be nothing left of that place.”

Yoo didn’t think that was enough. Not only had the neighbors seen them, but the ashes of three bodies would be found.

“No, there are no remains,” Siva insisted. He hit his chest. “I made sure of that.”

“Well, someone will report them missing,” Spider said.

Siva glared at him, and Yoo thought back to the murderous looks Siva had been giving Spider ever since they had found out about his kiss with Diana; he wondered how their partner managed to sleep without fear of waking up with an open throat.

“Your second power is fire,” Ghost interrupted.

He was standing by the window, staring out. Yoo was reminded of a hound waiting outside, looking out because he didn’t want to be surprised by the inevitable arrival of their enemy.

Siva’s sideways smile gave them a full answer. “I can do much more than burn down a small house.”

Exactly, how dangerous and powerful was Siva? Yoo took a step back without realizing it. Even though Siva had been an essential asset in protecting Diana, they couldn’t afford to underestimate him. Yoo watched him fearfully.

After twenty minutes, Yoo began to worry about Diana. She might have fainted or, worse, hurt herself by falling or slipping. When he voiced his fears, Siva reassured him, saying that Diana was fine. Whiskey decided to move closer to the bathroom door to hear what sounds were coming from inside, but he told them he could only hear the running water. He rapped his knuckles on the door, trying to get the girl’s attention. Diana didn’t answer, and Whiskey persisted, asking if she was okay. The girl responded by turning off the water, then disappeared for another five minutes, while Yoo agonized over it. Should he have gone in anyway and made sure she was okay? If he had stayed out there, how could he confirm that nothing else had happened to her? There could have been a secret passage in the bathroom that had allowed someone to get in and kidnap or kill her, or someone could have snuck in through the window, or that same stranger could have hidden in the bathroom before they arrived.

The possibilities were endless and Yoo felt like he was going crazy.

He only relaxed when Diana came out of the bathroom. He sighed in relief as she advanced, looking down, wearing only a t-shirt that Siva had lent her. It was smaller and tighter than Ghost’s jacket, but still at least two sizes too big. She walked unsteadily to the bed, trying to squeeze between the men who had immediately surrounded her to check on her. “I’m tired,” she murmured. Her voice was hoarse from crying and expressed the weakened state she was in.

Whiskey looked at the time on his watch. “It’s almost dawn,” he announced. “We could all use a few hours of sleep.” His eyes returned to the little girl who seemed to be struggling to stand. “No one is forcing us to wake up early tomorrow.” From her tormented expression, Yoo could tell he was holding back the desire to hug and comfort the broken girl. “Do you want to sleep alone tonight?”

Diana’s eyes filled with more tears. “No.” She looked pleadingly at Whiskey and then immediately at Yoo. Without her saying it out loud, it seemed clear to everyone what she wanted.

Yoo looked up at Whiskey. It was an instant connection. Whiskey looked back at their target and held out a hand. “Come on,” he urged affectionately. “It’s late, get under the covers.”

Diana moved slowly toward him. At the same time, Siva, who had sat on the side of the bed, quickly grabbed a change of clothes and walked to the door. Before leaving, he looked at Diana one last time and wished them, her, a good night’s sleep. He didn’t wait for an answer and left. Ghost and Spider followed him, giving equally hasty goodbyes.

Diana took Whiskey’s hand, but she didn’t seem to want to meet his gaze. Not even when he took her chin between his fingers. “Hey,” he said to get her attention but failed. “You’re safe now. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

Diana nodded, though it was clear she didn’t understand. Yoo, who had approached her and stood behind her, leaned forward to lift the sheets of the bed. He invited her to lie down. Whiskey let go of her and, without saying a word, Diana slipped into the center of the bed.

Whiskey took off his shirt and jeans and slipped in behind her.

Yoo stepped back, wanting to hurry up and get to the other side of the bed. His chest tight with jealousy, he watched as Whiskey hugged Diana from behind and whispered more reassuring phrases.

Passing by the bathroom door, Yoo decided to quickly pop in. When he finally lifted the covers on her side, Diana had already closed her eyes and from her relaxed expression, it seemed like she had fallen asleep. Yoo moved closer to her until he could feel her regular breathing on his face. He closed his eyes in turn and began to massage her arm. Diana moved closer to him, seeking more direct contact with his body.

Yoo shifted until he was comfortable and wrapped an arm around her hip, letting his hand fall between her back and Whiskey’s bare stomach. He tried his best to ignore the hot heat of their bodies, instead focusing on the hope that being close to Diana would make her feel safe.

Whiskey reached out to turn off the light, but even as the room grew dark, Yoo couldn’t fall asleep. His mind raced, replaying the events of the night.

They had one job, to protect Diana, yet they kept failing. They were failing her. It didn’t seem like it was because the threats to her life were too numerous or too intelligent. The problem was the five of them and their constant incompetence.

If only they had been more careful, never letting her out of their sight for a second, they could have prevented the events of that night. They could have saved her from the weight of those deaths.

Why were they chosen? It couldn’t have been for their abilities, since they were proving to have none. Yoo found it impossible to understand. Their ineptitude made him harden into his belief that they hadn’t been chosen by anyone, but that they had chosen to take the job. That was the reason why they didn’t work well together.

If they had been selected by the person who had planned Diana’s mission, then, they would have worked perfectly and would have already proven their worth.

As Yoo filled with doubts, the sun rose behind him, beyond the window left slightly open to let in a breath of fresh air. He decided to get up and go to the bathroom, hoping that a little water on his face would help clear, or rather chase away, his thoughts.

Before going back into bed and joining Diana and Whiskey, Yoo put a hand on his chest. He felt the shape of the talisman under his shirt.

He had promised he would never do it again.

And yet, right there and then, he felt the need to do it.

With shaking hands, he removed the necklace from his neck, breaking a protection that had shielded him for decades.

At first, he didn’t dare open his eyes. He feared what he would see when he raised his eyelids. Who he would see. He dared to do it slowly: he opened one eyelid and then the other.

In front of him, he saw only the two sleeping figures in the bed.

Surprised, he looked down at the talisman in his hand. For a moment, he doubted himself. Had he made it all up? Was it possible that the memories of his childhood self and the ghosts were mere childish fantasies?

Destabilized by that epiphany, he sat on the edge of the bed, shifting his gaze to the part of the room that until then had been behind him.

He jumped when he saw it. A man, a few years older than him, was sitting in the armchair by the window. His torso was hunched forward, his gaze lost in the void at his feet and his elbows pressed to his knees.

Yoo was almost relieved to see him.

The man was the proof he needed. He hadn’t made anything up: ghosts were real and he kept seeing them, which was why he needed to protect himself with the talisman.

Unlike popular imagination, the spirits of the dead had a normal, concrete appearance. Caught in the moment before their death, they could confess their entire life before they uttered a word.

The man Yoo was staring at looked normal. Except for the knife stuck in his chest.

Yoo swallowed hard and forced himself to speak. “Who are you?” he asked in English, hoping the man would understand.

The spirit looked up at him and Yoo found the answer to his question on his own. His face was a copy of Diana’s, but at the same time, it was different. The man looked at the girl lying behind Yoo. “Father,” his voice was hard and hoarse from years of smoking.

Yoo’s skin stood on end. Not knowing what else to say or do, he looked back at the knife that seemed to have hit him squarely in the heart. It had to have been a clean, deliberate, prepared blow. Yoo thought back to Diana’s confession in Germany.

Had she killed him?

“How did you die?”