Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Your eyes were closed as consciousness slowly crept back in. You couldn’t move, your body was still and yet you could feel yourself being moved. Suddenly, a rush of hot pain surged through you, like jagged spikes scraping across every edge of your skin, piercing deep into your bones. Strangely, the pain was duller than expected. Numbed. Somehow your brain had instinctively blunted it. That must mean it was still intact. Your heart continued pounding, like it was going to plunge out of your chest, your breathing, shallow and erratic. A splitting headache tore through your skull like it was being ripped in two, forcing your eyes to shut even tighter. With sight gone, your ears began picking up sounds that you weren’t able to hear before. Beneath the high pitch ringing you could hear panicking surrounding you. You weren’t alone.

“She is unstable!” A heart monitor beeping slowly faded into your hearing. What can you recall? You invaded deep into your empty mind, nothing resurfaced.
“We can’t save her-” a light penetrated your closed eyelids, with all your strength you slowly opened your eyes, it was hazy, red lights flying by creating beams of lights. You managed to tilt your head head slowly, you saw a hazy figure. Distorted, but their white coat and black hair stood out.

“She is about to collapse this area of the dimension, we can't sa-”
“NO!! She will die if we do that.” Another voice snapped, this one with feminine urgency. “I can stabilise her core. Just keep her temperature low. Where is Sage!?”
“Next room over in the infirmary. She is preparing for surgery.” Your head begins spinning violently, your mind unable to process their words as it becomes muffle again. Light swirled in your vision like streaks of sunset bleeding into a darkness you’ve never been before.

‘What is happening to me?’ You thought. Suddenly your head began clearing up a little bit, as your body began cooling down with an easy frost. Your hearing came back to you, hearing words that would never leave your memory.
“Sorry but this is going to hurt.” Suddenly a violent twist in your leg followed by blood-curdling screeching coming out of your forgotten voice. Please make it stop.

Your heart pounded even louder in your ears, your breathing became rapid and unstable, your body ascending in pain from the legs up.

Please make it stop.

Your body screamed to escape, begging to be free.

Please make it stop. Please.
Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop make it make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop.

“AURORA!” Your eyes drifted up from your distant memory to Phoenix on the other side of the elevator.
“Y'all alright fam?” He asked softly.
“Sorry Phoenix. I was just remembering a memory.” Your eyes drifted out through the glass, watching as you descended down to the training simulator.

“Just making sure, wouldn’t want you freezing up on your last exam.” Your eyes then drifted to the black cloth bindings wrapped tightly around your hands.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been practicing.” You replied. He chuckled,
“I know girl. Can’t match me but you can surely keep up. Are you sure you're a beginner? In 3 months, you are far better than what I started with!” Your eyes drifted to the broken ring necklace that hung around your neck. The band rusted, barely held together. You don’t know the history behind it, when you woke up in that infirmary, it was on you.

Just who are you?

The elevator door opened. You stepped out as Phoenix took a hard left, heading toward the control room. You looked down in front of you, an array of weaponry laid out for you. From large rifles to pistols itself. And yet you felt most accommodated with a combat knife in hand and a silencer pistol. It was almost instinctive, like extensions of your own body you were missing. You pressed your fingertip to the knife’s edge. Sharper than the practice ones. You tucked it into your left side pocket and holstered the pistol.

“Can you hear me soldier?” Brimstone’s voice came from your ear piece. You tapped.
“Loud and clear sir.”
“Objective: you’ll need to kill all 50 bots within 10 minutes. Are you ready?” You took a deep breath in, steadying your nerves.
“Affirmative sir.” Suddenly the flat area began forming large objects. Quickly analysing the surroundings you rush behind cover to your right just before gunfire begins firing at you.

Your focus narrowed to the center of your palm. Molecule by molecule, a small cylinder of light materialised in your hand. With a swift flick, you hurled it into the air. It exploited mid-arc, a ripple of distorted light washed over the room, wrapping the vision of the bots around you. They hesitated. Enough time for you. You opened fire with swift efficient precision. You move forward like a ghost, clearing corners, checking every angle. The sting of sweat trickling down your temples made your skin crawl, but you pressed on.

Another five ahead, all on the right. You formed a thin panel of light in your palm, extending it outward until it stretched across the corridor like a transparent wall. The light shimmered, refracting the environment just enough to render you invisible to their sensors. You walked past, shooting them in the back with eerie ease.

Phoenix leaned closer to the screen, brows furrowed. “Oh? Are the bots malfunctioning?” Phoenix asked.
“No. That’s her power. Light refraction.” Brimstone responds plainly.
“Light… refraction?” Phoenix blinked, confused.

Brimstone’s tone turned lecturer, eyes locked on the display. “It is the bending of light rays as they pass from one medium to another. She can control that. Alters the angle, the speed, even the visual perception itself. She can manipulate what you see or don’t see entirely.” Phoenix stared at Brimstone blankly and gave a thumbs up.

“I did not get that at all. But das okay. She does cool distortion things and boom, she wins.” Brimstone sighed, Phoenix was brilliant in his own chaotic way. Their eyes snapped back. You winced, a stray shot caught you in the abdomen. Blood seeped through your suit as you pressed down, gritting your teeth against the pain. Still, you pushed forward.

You looked back ahead, four more. You charged into the open space. Bullets cut through the air, but before they could hit, your hand flicked up, fingers outstretched and a translucent shield of refracted light bloomed in front of you. Bullets bent off its surface, giving you enough time to return fire. Your reflexes were inhumanely sharp. You advanced, eyes locked on the spike just ahead. Fifteen more bots surrounded it.

Your fist clenched. The glow in your eyes intensified - a cosmic swirl of pastel hues: soft pinks, blues, lilacs and white. As you opened your hand, a radiant pentagon formed in your palm. You dropped it at your feet. Suddenly the entire surrounding floor turns into a dome of blinding brilliance. Even your own eyes flinched at the overload of light.

The cameras turned black. Phoenix immediately got up from his seat and hurried off to his locker where he keeps his guns among other things.
“Phoenix, where are you going?” Brimstone coldly asked.
“She clearly needs help. I don’t actually want her to be gravely injured from just a few bots. She already took a shot to her abdomen and now the camera has gone black.”
“Stay. The camera has gone black because it's one of her abilities. The pentagon she dropped refracts all night inside it. Eyes, lenses, anything. It blind everything within the range. Just wait.”
“You and your nerdy science words man. Cut me some slack.” He huffed and sat down reluctantly.

They didn’t know what was happening in there, their visual on you was completely erased and so the only thing they can do is hope. After 5 minutes passed, the cameras returned, and all that was left standing was you with all fifty bots piled against each other on the floor. Phoenix exhaled, shoulders relaxing. He hadn’t realised how tense he had been.
“Congratulations Aurora. Head to the infirmary to get checked up by Killjoy and Sage.” You gave a short nod and turned, your vision spun. Your knees buckled beneath you. Muscle trembled, your breath ragged. Exertion had pushed you past your limits.

“Hey! Easy. Let me help you there aight?” Phoenix was already at your side, steadying you before you collapsed.
You gave a weak smile, “Thanks…”

“You did really well for only 3 months training Aurora. You are a natural!”

You managed a faint laugh, though something inside you twisted. He was right. It was too natural. The way you move, how the weapon fits in your hands, this isn't learned. It was like part of your body. It felt like a part of your body was finally completed to function, almost like it was a necessity to have them. Worse than that, you were phenomenal with your movements, your control over them, both gun and knife. You don’t know why, nor do you even remember anything about you. The first you woke up too was that bitter memory that you rather not remember. Everything, identity, recognition of even yourself, you had not remembered. No past. No truth. Just now, the present. And the strange certainty that if you wanted answers, you would have to find them through the people who rescued you.

“Sage!” Phoenix’s voice broke through your thoughts. You blinked out of your daze as the healer greeted you both with a warm smile.
“Hello Phoenix and Aurora.” She glanced down at you then back to your eyes,
“I see one of us needs some aid.” You gave a soft sigh,

“Where is Killjoy? I need to know if my suit is okay. I overdid it again.” Sage gently helped you onto one of the infirmary beds, already reaching for your patient notes. She began taking your vitals with her usual calm efficiency. Phoenix sat down on the chair next to you. He was too nice… too extroverted for his own good. He was one of the few radiants you met after your incident 3 months ago. He’d been your first impression of the world you’d woken into... Asking about everything and anything, when’s my birthday, who am I, what’s my radiant powers, what do I like. Only to be then be filled with embarrassment and apologise profusely when he was told I lost all memory of what I am. But he treated me well, making sure I discovered new things, new foods, new views, new hobbies.

“You don’t have to be here Phoenix. It is going to take a while.” You stared at him from the side. He lifted his head up from you from what seemed like being lost in thought and smiled.
“Nah, I don’t mind Aurora. Besides, I got nothing else on either.” he replied. “Ah Killjoy! How have you been?”
“Not bad Phoenix!” Killjoy replied. “Aurora. Congrats on passing the exam. Let me check up on the radiant energy signature in your system.”

The Valorant Protocol agents were surprisingly kind. You had first met Sage, Killjoy and Viper first as they were the people who helped with restoring function in your body. That and making sure your radiant powers weren’t out of control. Apparently, there were sightings of San Gabriel mountains in LA. A massive section suddenly wiped from existence. But when they got there, they detected large amounts of radianite surging through the environment, concentrated and unnatural. For an hour, the area pulsed with untamed energy. When they arrived, it wasn’t actually destroyed, only hidden, cloaked in illusion. Your illusion. Your radiant powers had caused the event. You had been found alone, broken and burned beyond recognition, your body mangled and your memory that is long in the dust.

“Other than a mild fever and elevated heart and respiratory rate. Everything else is fine. I’ll start stitching you up now.” Sage mentioned which you thanked for.

“Oh, by the way,” Killjoy added, tapping away on her tablet. “Apparently you have been appointed to your teammate for your missions from now on.”
“Right… after that fiasco in Venice, correct?”

“Don’t look at me! I didn’t know what was happening man.” Phoenix raised his hands defensively. Sage eyerolled and focussed back at stitching your bullet wound.
“It is alright Phoenix. We do not blame you for that. It was the first time dealing with our duplicate.”

“Who is my teammate?” You asked attentively. You wondered what kind of missions you would go on. From what you have heard from Phoenix, each agent is designed for a mission specific to them.
“Well, according to what Brimstone has told me. He designated a partner that fits your agile abilities and stealth. Maybe Sova with recon? Cypher for quick in and out interrogations? Even Yoru with fast strikes. The list is endless.” Sage replied.

“Any chance I can end up with one of you guys?” You winced from the pain as you tried to sit up. It prickled through your ribs.
“Probably not. I will be on standby in case of emergencies. Phoenix has already been paired with Yoru,”
“I bet it’s to keep Phoenix on track to not get side-tracked.” You mischievously chuckled to Killjoy.
“Oi! I heard that!” Phoenix pointed at you dramatically. All of you chuckled.

“Aside from that. Killjoy is our technician and engineer. She isn’t exactly the type for the missions you will be assigned to.” That means you will be meeting some new faces. Other than these three and Viper, you didn’t really know anyone else. You have heard about Raze, Killjoy’s partner in all the tinkering they do with gadgets. Neon and Jett have been mentioned by Phoenix but other than that, nothing more has really been stated.

“Are agents outside of the ones you guys have mentioned good people?” Everyone had unsure expressions.
“I mean… Some of them are nice.” Sage said carefully. “Most agents have personal motives that just happen to align with the protocol. Some genuinely do want to save the world. Others… not so much.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Your attention turned to Killjoy on the side of your bed. “Aurora, the symptoms you experience from overuse of your powers can become catastrophic. So please refrain from using your ability to form illusions inside that pentagrammic area if possible. Your restriction band on both arms is perfectly fine. But please, try your best not to remove them when you're on missions. When you are here at base and not training, you may remove them.”

“Understood KJ. Thanks for everything again.”
“Don’t thank me just yet!” she said with a sly grin. “I got one more thing I want to give you.” She handed you a vial of translucent liquid.

“It’s a depressant. From what I understand of your powers. To create those light refractions, it accelerates your body’s temperature to expend more energy, hence your fatigue waves, light-headedness and blurry vision. So using this should help relieve some of those symptoms. But please do not take more than 6. You will black out in 5 minutes.” You nodded attentively and thanked KJ once more.

“Am I intruding?” Your attention turned to Brimstone who just entered the room.
“Not at all Brim. We just finished looking at her.” Sage replied. He nodded and gestured to you to follow him. “Come, you are going to meet your partner that will work with you.” The others stared at each other, one another. You guessed you are going to have to be the one to ask to satiate everyone's curiosity.

“May I learn the name of this person?” You asked.
“Agent 18, Chamber.”

Chapter Text

Chamber,
A name you haven’t heard from the others. You couldn’t help but wonder why. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned him? Then again, it wasn’t like you knew many. Sage, Killjoy and Raze often talk highly of Jett and Neon. Phoenix can’t stop talking about Yoru and their friendly rivalry. But those were always good things, fond memories some would say. Chamber though… nothing.

You followed lightly behind Brimstone, boots echoing softly down the polished hallway. Part of you hoped this new agent was like the others, kind and dependable. Not a single person, not even Brimstone, had ever mentioned him. It made you quite nervous. Maybe they didn’t talk much with each other or maybe they just never introduced each other. Maybe they weren’t on good terms. Or maybe, for some reason, they were never meant to talk about him.
The silence between your footsteps was the only thing keeping you mildly calm. You weren’t exactly a people person. Reserved, quiet– that's how you would describe yourself. So meeting someone new that would be your partner, most likely for the rest of your time in the protocol. It was hard not to overthink it.

You stole subtle glances at Brimstone, trying to not make it obvious. His expression was unreadable, as always. But behind the calm, there was something else. Tension? Uneasiness? You couldn’t place the feeling exactly, but it lingered in the air. Something clearly wasn’t normal in the midst of it.

“We are here.” Brimstone sternly informed. You stepped forward as the door slid open, triggered by your handprint. Your eyes immediately locked onto someone else’s. Sharp. Unwavering, like an eagle watching its prey. The man standing in the room was taller than you by a good margin, his presence undeniable even from across this distance. Charisma seemed to radiate off him in waves, natural and effortless.

His hair was a rich chocolate brown, slicked back with precision. He wore a deep-sea blue vest over a crisp, high-collared white shirt, the sleeves folded neatly to his elbows. A vibrant, patterned tie completed the look, perfectly fitted for him. A gleaming gold watch clung to his left wrist– custom, no doubt– and he wore cedar toned slacks with polished brown gloves.

He looked expensive. Immaculate. Deliberate even.
But the most striking feature wasn’t the clothes. It was the gold, etched into his skin like a tattoo. It glinted on the side of his head, intricate lines weaving downward along his neck and disappearing beneath his shirt, only for it to re-emerge across his hands and fingers. It almost looked… electronic? Like a living circuit board. You didn’t know what to make of him. He was beautiful, dangerous and quite impossible to read.

“Aurora, yes?” His voice was smooth, charming, alluring even.
“Yes.” You answered plainly. You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you was honestly startled, caught off guard.
“Care to join me on the couch?”

You nodded and stepped forward, the door closing shut behind you two. The door sealed behind you with a soft click. Now it was just the two of you, Agent 18. This was Chamber. There was something about him that was… off. Not in any obvious way. No, this feeling slithered beneath the surface– subtle but unshakeable. A chill ran down your spine as he extended a hand in greeting. You hesitated, only for a second.
He reached his hand towards you, a handshake. You firmly took it, his grip was strong, controlled. There was no question that he was well-built.

“It’s a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman such as yourself.” He said, his tone dipped in a velvety warmth, “Let me introduce myself, I am Chamber, an agent for the VALORANT Protocol. I do hope we get along.” He softly turned your hand over and kissed the back of your hand.
“Pleasure is all mine Chamber.” You smiled, hiding the obvious confusion from his gesture. His gesture, old-fashioned, theatrical– set off quiet alarms. There was an elegance to him, a refinement, but it came wrapped in flirtation and softness that felt… deliberate. Possibly manufactured.

There was something about him that put you off. You couldn’t name it, but you felt it. You were naturally cautious— never one to take people at face value. But this man had you on edge faster than anyone you’d ever met. And it was just the introduction.

You didn’t relax, you knew better than to let your guard down.
“Now Aurora,” He said, reclining slightly, his smile lingering, “Would you like to tell me about yourself?” His tone was light, but his gaze was heavy, searching expectantly for my answer. You nodded. You must choose your words carefully.
“I am Aurora, I am radiant who joined the protocol 3 months ago and I specialise in close-quarters combat and stealth-based assassinations. My powers are light manipulations where I can create shapes by manipulating light into tools and illusions for both offense and concealment.”
He didn’t interrupt. Just simply watched. His stare deepened, unwavering. It made your skin prickle. He was thinking, clearly, but the depth of it felt too precise.

“As I have read about your powers.” He said after a pause, “Quite fascinating and remarkable. I wish to see it in person.” You paused for a long time only to realise what he meant.

“Right now?” you asked. He shook his head.
You opened your palm. A soft ball of white light began to form in your hand, radiant and iridescent. It shimmered like glass, refracting into soft rainbow hues.
“Fascinating.” he murmured, his eyes reflecting the spectrum of light that danced from your fingers.
You smiled faintly, shifting your focus. The ball elongated, reshaped itself into a translucent cube. You pinched the corners with your other hand, expanding its volume before gently setting it onto the table.
Then, you reached for the nearby glass, placed it inside the cube. Instantly, the glass vanished completely hidden within the refracted illusions.

Chamber reached towards the cube, fingertips slipping inside. They vanished, just like yours had. He didn’t say anything. But you could feel his curiosity buzzing just under the surface of that otherwise polished demeanour. It was a quiet moment. You hadn’t realised how still the room had become.

The cube dissolved at the faintest tap of your fingers, dispersing like snow. Then in one, fluid motions, you formed a large, flat rectangle in your palm and lightly tossed it in the air. The construct hovered there, expanding into a semi-transparent panel of light between you and Chamber. Light flickered softly across his face. A moment later, you dismissed the hologram, letting the space between you clear again.

“How old are you, Aurora?”
“Twenty-Five.” At least… that’s what you’ve been told to look like by Sage and Killjoy.

“One year younger than me.” He said, amusement curling at the edge of his words. “You are very skilled with your powers.”

You wondered if you should take it as praise from a flirtatious man like him. This line was clearly already blurred.
“Ah, let me give you an introduction to my abilities.” He leaned further into the couch and held his hand out. Without warning, a heavy pistol materialised in his grasp, a gleaming weapon polished in gold. Its design was impressive, as if it was made to catch the eye. But more intriguing than the shine was the faintly glowing pattern etched into the weapon. The intricate lines that mirrored his own on his skin.

“I create nanotechnological radiant powered weaponry. I am a sniper to say the least. But make no mistake, I can handle myself in close combat just fine. Still…” he offered a small, knowing smirk. “I’ll let you see that in the fields.”
“May I ask a question Chamber.”
“Speak away my princess.” The pet name made your brow twitch. Already he was calling you names. But you ignored it.

“Did you teleport that pistol into your hand because of nanotechnology built into your body? Quite the wealthy man you are if that is the case.”
He tilted his head slightly, and for a moment, he simply stared. His golden-brown eyes met yours, unblinking, molten and unreadable. The air between you thickened. He leaned forward just slightly. He was close now… too close. His cologne was heady, a strong floral scent. His expression shifted, subtle, serious and something stirred behind him. gaze. It wasn't aggression, not exactly. But it wasn’t friendly either. More observant. Like a predator simply watching his prey. But were not prey. You weren't going to be. You didn't flinch. You held your stare, clam and blank.

Suddenly, as the tension rose, it vanished. He leaned back and smiled, pleasant, charming and completely disarming. Yet it sent a deeper chill down your spine than his glare ever could have.
“Yes actually.” he said smoothly, “Nanotechnology is woven into the surface of my skin. It links directly to my weaponry. Custom made, of course. That’s how I summon them. Very few know how it works. You’re an observant partner. I like that.”

Partner. The word partner lingered in the air longer than necessary. Now you saw the logic behind your pairing. An assassin and an overwatcher. But not just any overwatcher, a man who could survive alone, hunt alone, killing at any distance. You couldn’t tell if that was reassuring or deeply unsettling. Two grim reapers, assigned to the same targets.

“As you might have been able to gather now.” Chamber said coolly, “We are going to be doing a lot of dirty work. Intel gathering for the protocol. Assassinations even.” You had pieced that much together, but what exactly that entailed, you weren’t sure. Not yet?

“I’ve done much of the work solo.” he continued, resting his arms on the couch, “But after the… complications in Venice Italy, Brimstone has made us all partner up.” His gaze narrowed ever so slightly, “I expect you to keep up.” You nodded your head confidently.

“I won’t let you down.”
He gave a smug huff, “Prove it in the missions and then I will believe you.” He rose from the couch and straightened his vest. “For now, get some rest. You may want to look at the details for our mission.” His eyes met yours once again. “I look forward to working with you… Aurora.”

“Well if you excuse me then. I’ll see you for the mission.” You grinned a sly face at him and stood up. You walked towards the exit without so much as a backward glance until, his voice called out again.
“Wait, Aurora.”
You stopped. Turn your chin slightly, just enough to acknowledge him with no eye contact.
“Yes Chamber?”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You didn’t show it but you were confused by such a statement.
“No. I don’t think I have met you before this meeting, Chamber.” Another pause followed. Silence heavy and drawn out. You could feel the tension building, thickening within the air.
“Very well… You may leave.”

You gave a slight nod and continued through the door. It hissed shut behind you. Only then did you exhale. Sweat clung to your brows. Your breath was uneven, pulse thrumming far too quickly in your chest. Every instinct you had screamed danger. His tone, his stare, the way he seemed to see straight through you. Despite the smiles, that politeness, he studied you like a threat. Like a target. And you knew, without a doubt, if he wanted to, he could have killed you right then and there. He was a difficult one to understand. To grasp. Just what was Brimstone thinking? One deep breath. Then another.

Focus.

It didn’t matter if he'd like you. Didn’t matter if he hated you. Didn’t even matter if he could kill you.
You weren’t afraid. Not of him. Not anyone. Certainly not of your future. Ever since the day you woke up, your memory erased, your identity shattered. You had made a vow. To seek the truth, no matter the cost. Your name, your past, your people… all of it was gone. Stripped away, as if you had never existed. And if no one remembered you, if no one could, then did you ever truly live to begin with. They say to live is to be remembered. So what did it matter if someone killed a person already dead? You wouldn’t find the truth. And nothing would stand in your way. You didn’t know it yet. But that would be your downfall.

~

Chamber’s POV:
After the door clicked shut behind you, Chamber leaned back into the couch, the soft cushions absorbing his weight. HIs gaze drifted upward to the ceiling, unfocused, thoughtful. The quiet was heavy now– your footsteps no longer echoed, no more presence.

Then a quiet chuckle slipped past his lips. It wasn’t often someone left an impression on him so quickly. But you had– and he wasn’t quite sure how to explain it. Was it your poise? Your voice? Or the way you held his stare without flinching, reading him without offering anything of yourself. You were composed, careful, observant. Almost… familiar?

This was the person he was meant to work with? Someone as masked as himself.

He reached across the low table and picked up the manila folder Brimstone had handed him. Your file. Thin, disappointingly so. That in itself irritated him. Classic Brimstone, vague and selective with the details. Nothing but surface-level information and a half-page summary of your abilities. It’s useful, but clinical. Nowhere near enough to satisfy the questions that stirred in his mind.

He flipped it open again, eyes landing on the ID photo. Your face stared back at him - those distinct luminous eyes, impossible to forget. He remembered how they looked in person, how your gaze met him without hesitation. And your scent– subtle, clean, vaguely sweet– lingered in his mind far longer than he liked to admit. There was something magnetic in the way you carried yourself. Quietly confident. Guarded. Like someone who had known loss… and learned to wear it like tight armour at every layer. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, chuckling again in disbelief.

Ridiculous.

You hadn’t said much. But you needn’t have to. There was something behind your words. Something he couldn’t quite name yet felt a sense of solemnness. And yet he couldn’t shake it. The way your hair curled softly around your shoulders. The glow of your skin under the light.
Has he seen you before?
A mission, a passing face on the street? Maybe. But then why did your image cling to him so persistently, like a dream he couldn’t quite place.

He shut the file gently and let it rest beside him. His mind, replaying the encounter - not just what was said, but rather how it felt. That tension. That curiosity. The odd pull toward you out of familiarity. You were…

Enticing.

Chamber let his eyes fall closed for a moment, the file resting in his lap. Perhaps Brimstone was onto something– pairing the two of you. Maybe he would find the answer in time.

Who were you?
What were you hiding
Why couldn't he shake the feeling that fate had tangled you together long before this meeting ever began. His voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful,
“Just who are you girl?”

Chapter Text

After that strange and eventful meeting with your new partner, you decided you needed a distraction– something to shake off that weird tension in your chest. Training seemed like the most productive option. You made your way to the sparring hall, hoping that the rhythm of combat might silence your thoughts.

Chamber… was an interesting man to say the least.
A double faced paradox. On one hand, he wore flirtation like a designer suit— charming, poised, confidently smooth. But beneath the polished veneer was something far colder. You could feel it. He was watching you not just with curiosity, but calculation. And yet, despite every internal alarm your instincts tried to sound, you didn’t feel hatred toward him. Not even distrust.

It was strange.

Yes, he was suspicious of you. His motives weren't entirely pure. But he was efficient. Smart. And committed to the missions, even if his reasons were his own. But you couldn’t criticise him for it. You were the same after all.
You lightly slapped your cheeks, shaking the cluttered thoughts from your mind. This is exactly what you are trying to forget.

As your mind wandered to the present, you spotted Sage and Killjoy chatting casually at the edge of the training grounds. They noticed you first and waved you ove, bright smiles welcoming your presence.

“Hey girl.” Killjoy called out.
You waved back, “Hey.”
Sage’s eyes sparkled with hints of curiosity, “So how did it go with meeting him?”
You shrugged, sinking onto the bench beside them. “He was fine, I guess. I don’t have a strong opinion. Not yet anyway. But I think we’ll work well enough together.” You glanced between them. “What do you two think of him?”

They exchanged a look, something unreadable.
“To be honest, we don’t reallyyy have an opinion of him either.” Killjoy replied. Sage nodded in agreement.
“He keeps to himself. More than most. Like Omen and Cypher— night workers, solo ops. But at least we see those two every now and then. Chamber? He’s like a ghost. Comes and goes, but always alone.”
Killjoy added, “We don’t even know what missions Brimstone sends him on. They’re above our clearances. You’ll probably find out now that you’re partnered up with him.”

“I haven’t looked at the mission just yet. I plan to check it out tonight. But from what I gathered from my introduction. Based on assassinations and intel gathering.” You replied,
“So similar to Omen.” Killjoy mused aloud. A name they haven’t mentioned before.
“Who is Omen?” You asked. They paused for a bit thinking about it.

Sage answered, “Hard to describe, honestly. Think… cloaked shadow figure, wears a mask, very cryptic. Sounds scary but he is honestly one of the kindest agents here. He’s not as intimidating once you get to know him.”
Killjoy grinned, “He’s like if a haunted house was also a supportive older brother.”
You laughed softly, “Sounds like someone I’d like to meet.” They smiled at that, and for a moment, you felt something light and genuine settle in your chest. These people, they seemed close. Comfortable with each other. It made you wonder if, one day, you could belong that way too.

“Well,” you stood with a stretch, “I should go talk to Brimstone.”
“Tell the old man I said hi!” Killjoy waved. You smiled at her, “Will do.”
As you walked away, you glanced back once. They were already chatting again, laughing about something small. It tugged at your heart. Just very minor. They had history. Trust… memories.
You had none of those things. Not yet.
But maybe, you could build something here. Even if your past was gone. Even if Chamber was a walking riddle. Even if you had to dig through secrets to find that truth.
For now, you were still standing. And that was enough for now.

You reached his office and gave two light knocks.
“Brimstone, this is Aurora. Do you have time to speak with me?”
The doors immediately flew open, as though they’d been waiting for you. You stepped inside, greeted by that familiar sight of chaos. Paper strewn across his decks, files stacked in lopsided towers, and glowing datapads blinking with ignored notifications. Right in the middle of it all was Brimstone, hunched forward with a pen clutched in one hand and a tired scowl on his face.

You let out a quiet laugh under your breath. What a mess.

But somehow, it made sense. Beneath his hardened exterior, Brimstone had always been one of the most reliable constants in your short life. He genuinely cared, in that rough, gruff, soldier-father kind of way.

“I’m happy to help you manage all of this as your assistant Brimstone if you ever need it.” You offered with a smile as you made your way across the room, slipping past half-open dossiers and flickering screens.
He let out a deep, amused sigh, finally setting his pen aside, “Honestly. After the fifth time you offered, I am starting to consider the option.”

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arm, “What brings you here, Aurora.”
You hovered just above him, “Was just wondering what your thoughts on Chamber are. No one seems to know much about him. I figured you will know since you brought him in the protocol.” That gave him a pause.
Brimstone’s brows lowered, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as his fingers laced together. His gaze didn’t drift, it was calculating, as if trying to figure out how much he can say.
“Chamber is a man with many secrets,” he finally said. “A furtive one. He’s not afraid to wear a friendly face, even if it is a mask. You’ve probably seen that already though.”
You nodded. You definitely felt it and you were right to be on guard.

He was analysing every inch of you, your movements, words, tone, hell, maybe even to how you were breathing. It hadn’t scared you, but it had warned you. He was dangerous. Not because of what he could do, but because of how easily he could play the game.

But then again, so were you.

You wandered toward one of the dusty bookshelves lining the room. Your fingers traced the spines, collecting a light coat of forgotten dust. “You really should clean in here,” you muttered under your breath.
“I’ve been busy,” Brimstone replied dryly. You gave a faint smile and turned back toward him,
“I’ll be careful,” you promised. “I’ve got secrets too. Not exactly keen on anyone poking around either.”
Brimstone gave a low hum, as if that answer didn’t surprise him. “As far as I can tell, Chamber’s goals mostly align with ours. He gets the job done. Efficient. Precise. Too precise, sometimes. That’s why Viper’s been keeping an eye on him.”
“But if you don’t mind me asking, why even employ him at first if he does more harm than good.” Brimstone leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Because sometimes, the devil you know is still better than the one you don’t.”

You stayed silent, watching him.
“The protocol is about a balance. We don’t get to pick and choose the perfect agents. Sometimes we bring in people not because we trust them, but because we need them. Chamber… describes that most fittingly.”
His gaze fixed on you again, heavier, more serious now.
“That’s why I put you with him.”
“Because you don't trust him?”

“Because I trust you.” he paused. “You’re observant. Composed. And you’ve got instincts I’d be a fool to ignore. Whatever he is hiding. I think you'll be the one to see through it.”

“Playing with untamed fire? Good thing you know how to control it.” You let a crooked smile touch your lips.
“Trust me Aurora. Controlling a fire is damn near impossible once it spreads. But if Chamber has any sense, he’ll know it is in his best interest to keep you safe.”

You crossed your arms, “I can take care of myself too.” you protested.
“I know that fully well. But you just joined,”
“So what?” you snapped, the irritation spiking out of nowhere.

His tone sharpened in return. “The line of work I have put you in isn’t to take lightly.”
“I am not taking it lightly.” you bounced back,
“The line of work isn’t meant for someone ordinary.
You were humoured by such a sentence. You turned your back on him, staring at the dusty shelves, your reflection faint in the dark glass of the screen. “But I’m not normal Brimstone.” you whispered. “I’m not even someone. I’m a dead person who just happened to keep breathing.”

You spun on your heel to face him, surprising even yourself. And the words began spilling out, uncontrollable.
“I should have died. From whatever the hell happened to me. From whatever I used to be. Killjoy said she thinks I only survived because of the massive collision of radianite tore through my body like wildfire and reassembled me into something else. That’s why I was in such a state when you found me. My body wasn’t adapting. It was fighting to stay alive. I should have died. But here I am.”

You took a step closer, eyes burning,
“A ghost that walks the earth, trying to find the pieces that were taken away. I will find them. No matter what.”
The room fell silent. The intensity of your voice lingering in the air like smoke. Brimstone didn’t speak away. He watched you quietly, his expression unreadable, but then softened. Not out of pity. Out of understanding.

You didn’t know why you had said all that. Why those words had tumbled out of you like a dam breaking. Maybe it was something in the way Brimstone looked at you. Too protective. You knew it came from a place of care, but somehow it still stung.

Maybe it was because some part of you feared being coddled when what you needed was control. Maybe… Because it reminded you that you were still a stranger to yourself.
You exhaled, pushing back the adrenaline.

“I am sorry Brimstone. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
He shook his head, “It’s fine Aurora. I just wish for you to be safe.” His gaze lingered for a moment before he continued, “Your incredible natural skills are perfect for these lines of work which is why I put you into this especially with a partner such as Chamber. But this path…” he paused, choosing his next words carefully, “There will be times where the lines blur. Where you’ll have to make choices no one else in the Protocol ever will.”
You studied him. “But there is no better person than me, correct?”

He nodded once. You shrugged, offering a small, unconcerned smile, a defense mechanism as old as you were.
“Then it will be fine. I will be safe, I promise.” With that, you stepped back from the desk. “Now with all that due said, I wish to prepare for my mission in two days. Thank you for this discussion Brimstone. I promise old man. I will be okay.” His eyes softened at the word, his smile returning with equal parts of pride and worry.

“Alright. Be safe out there.” You turned back to him right outside the door,
“I will be old man.” The door shut tight behind you.

So, even Brimstone doesn’t trust Chamber. That didn’t surprise you, but it didn’t necessarily help you either. All it confirmed was that no one truly knew where Chamber’s loyalty began, or where it may end.
That was fine. If there were no answers here, you’d find them yourself.

You made your way back to your room, the one the Protocol had assigned you. It was still new enough to feel impersonal. No photos, no keepsakes. Just the faint hum of tech and the cool sheen of regulation steel. You collapsed on the bed, tablet in hand and swiped it to cast the holographic display onto the wall.

MISSION: Intel Gathering
Partner: Chamber
Cypher has found leads on a blackmailer planning to distribute information about the protocol. We do not know of their current whereabouts at the moment but supposedly they have connections here with a man that deals with underground business. May provide insight into their whereabouts. The alias name is Vasile Albu. Interrogate if possible. Gather intel on the blackmailer and their connections to the Protocol.

You stared at the address at the bottom, a bar in Bucharest, Romania and a picture given of the man. His slicked-back black hair glistened with too much gel, his suit tailored, his beard trimmed to the millimeter. Everything screamed a kingpin. But what stuck out was the tattoo. A skull with a rose blooming from the eye socket. It unsettled you

The tabet buzzed. An incoming call.
Chamber.

You sighed. You tapped the screen. His face appeared.

“I assume you have seen the mission details?” he asked.
You flopped backwards onto the bed, starfishing across the mattress.
“I just did yes, Chamber.” You answered plainly. “Is that all you called for?”
“Not quite.” His tone didn’t shift. “I’ve already begun planning. I did some digging on the bar. It functions as an intel trading hub. Discreet, underground, efficient. But Cypher and I couldn’t trace any data on the actual owners or leadership. It’s been wiped clean.”

You raised a brow. “So it’s a front. Mafia-run, likely. We’d be stupid to try hacking in without leaving a trail.”
“Exactly. Which is why it's best for us to split up and find any sort of information and not start anything.” He replied, “No stunts. No heat. Cypher’s given us data chips - plug one into any secure system you find, and he will handle the rest. But we’ll need to buy him time.”

“That should be easy with my ability.” You smirked faintly.
“One more thing though, Aurora.” Chamber added, “Don’t stick your nose in business that isn't strictly the mission. We cannot afford leaking protocol whereabouts.”
“Of course Chamber.”
“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The call ended before you could reply. You stared at the tablet for a moment, then shoved it further onto the bed. Tomorrow was your first mission. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or fear coursing through your veins.

But either way… there was no turning back.

~
You reached Romania at 7:15 pm.
The helicopter ride had been long, tedious and mind-numbingly boring. You hated sitting still.

As your boots hit the tarmac, a harsh gust of wind bit at your skin. You shivered. You knew it was going to be cold, but fuck this was colder than you wished for. Your standard long-sleeved, back hooded top, adn combat-style pants, light enough to move, warm enough to endure. But even then, the cold snuck in through the seams.

Behind you, Chamber stepped off the helicopter like the weather didn’t touch him. All he added to his usual ensemble was a hazelnut trench coat, perfectly tailored for him, of course.
You hopped off the helicopter to feel the cold freezing air against your skin, you shivered. You knew it was going to be cold, you even dressed up for the occasion. You were quite limited with what you could add on to your already long sleeve hooded black top and black combat style pants. You didn’t want to limit any of your combat.

Right… this bitch ass is from France.
“Jealous?” he asked smugly. You didn't realise you were staring at him and turned away,
“Of you? Never.” He chuckled under his breath.
“Let’s go. I’ll take you to one of our smaller bases here and we’ll get ready.” You followed close behind.

~

The base looked unused, nothing ever being touched and yet surprisingly, not as much as dust as you had expected. It was more like an Airbnb than a cover base. The living room held a cushioned couch, a few scattered throw blankets and wall-mounted screen flickering with dormant lights. Towels, surgical tools, unopened first-aid kids were stashed in easy reach. Oddly cozy.

You tossed your duffel into your assigned room, kneeling to unzip it and pull out what you’d dreaded all day.
The outfits.

A crimson red, body con dress that hugged your form like liquid fire. Obsidian black stiletto heels. A delicate matching shawl draped over your arms to finish the look. Fighting in heels? Already a nightmare. Fighting in this? Practically a death sentence.

Still… It fits perfectly. Of course it did though. Killjoy had taken your measurements down to the millimeter, and Raze had insisted on picking those heels. The two had looked WAY too excited back at HQ when they handed you the garment bag.

You stepped out of your bedroom. Chamber was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with that same unshakeable elegance. He’d changed too. A crimson vest with subtle black embroidery hugged his torso, worn over a crisp black dress shirt. It was tailored, suave, and infuriatingly complementary to your own outfit. He gave you one slow look, his golden-brown eyes sliding from your heels to your collarbone.

“Stop looking.” You annoyingly blurted out. He smiled, resting his hand under his chin with a sort of admiration.
“Forgive me. I didn't mean to. I just think you are very beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. “We’re not even meant to be seen together. Save the act.”

Still, he extended a hand out as you reached the door. “True, but I will always offer my hand to you, gorgeous.”
You stopped, turned around slowly and gave him a withering look, “Touch me and I will break your wrist.”

He chuckled, undeterred. “Deadly rose you are. Let’s see if you will blossom or have the thorns cut away tonight.”

Chapter Text

You arrived just across from the bar, the sky above Bucharest already drowned in the bruised hues of the night. You pulled out your heat sensor scanner, its interface flickering with thermal outlines-- two, sometimes three guards at every entrance. This wasn’t going to be easy if things went sideways.

Pressing a finger to your earpiece, you muttered, “I’ll head in first.”
“Affirmative.” Chamber replied. “I’ll arrive ten minutes after you.”
You took a deep breath in and out, the cold wind flowing down your throat. It burned in a way you weren’t used to. You hated the cold. Still, you smoothed the red dress down your sides, adjusted the shawl draping over your arms and took your first step forward. Let’s just get this over with.

The guards flanking the entrance didn’t speak a word. Their mirrored glasses concealed their eyes, but you could feel their stare clinging to your body like grime. You walked on, ignoring them, letting the heels click sharply against the marble floor. Every sound echoed with unwanted attention. And every face turned to watch.

You walked like you belonged, back straight, chin high, gaze cold.
Inside, the place reeked of perfume, cigar smoke and sweat. Low lighting painted everything in a sultry red glow. Couples draped across each other in velvet-lined booths, half-dressed dancers twirled around poles, and servers. All were women, fitted between tables. But there was something wrong here.

You noticed it in fragments: bruises peeking out from beneath sequins, bitemarks masked with powder, identical tattoos on the side of women’s thighs– a blooming rose twisting through a skull’s eye socket. Some had different ink, but the pattern was clear. These women weren’t here by choice. Not guests. Not employees. Owned.

And their smiles? Empty. Dead-eyed. Manufactured.

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and pressed deeper inside, head low, steps careful. There were layers to this place, a masquerade of seduction over a foundation of chains. And not a single one batted their eyes. You finally spotted him, Vasile Albu, lounging in the far booth, flanked by women and liquor bottles, every gesture oozing sleaze. The man was a walking cliche. You moved towards him-
But just as you planned your approach, a voice slithered in your ear.

“Hey there cutie.” The voice was a whisper laced in honey and rot. You turned. Amazon stood before you, tall, broad, eyes gleaming with something dark, almost predatory.
“Lost kitten, are you?” The man grinned. “Want to come hang out with me?”
“No, I am all good. Thank you.” Your smile was sweet. Dismissive. You started to move. He then grabbed you. His hand clamped around your arm like a vice, yanking you back so hard your shoulder popped. His face was still smiling, but his eyes… hungry.
“Oh come on. I'm sure your owner wouldn’t mind if you just spent some time with me? We are all friends here. We share.” You took a moment to grasp what he just said. Did he just say owner? What does he mean owner? Is that the memo of this place?

“I don’t think my master would be happy if I took too long getting his drinks,” you said evenly, lightly trying to tug your arm out of his grip. “ Please let me go.

Crack.
His backhand was sudden and brutal. Your legs buckled, surprised by such a hit. You hit the floor on one knee, the impact shooting pain up your spine.
“That’s twice you talked back to me.” He said coldly. “Clearly your owner doesn’t teach you shit.”

You touched your cheek. There was blood. Already dripping. Another blow followed, splitting your lip. You didn’t cry out. You didn’t even flinch. You looked up at him, the haze in your vision sharpening to fire.

Around you, no one reacted. Not even once turned their heads. As if violence like this was routine… expected even.
“Good thing you're a pretty one to make up for your lack of respect.” He hit you again in the face, the pain so much more intensely hot, blood was spilling from your nose. He roughly grabbed your arm and held you up, revealing more of your thighs. His smile turned lustful.
“You aren’t branded. Untouched. Just my type.”

You tasted iron and rage. If you moved now, the mission would burn. But if you didn’t-

“She is with me.” A familiar voice. Words sharp, cold and calm.
The man turned.

Chamber stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, eyes unreadable behind that faint, infuriating smile. But there was steel in posture, quiet, dangerous steel.
“The girl is mine,” he said. “My property.”
The man scoffed. “She’s not branded.”

“She will be.” Chamber stepped forward. “She’s new. I paid for her myself. And now you have damaged my property. You want the boss to hear about this.”

The man hesitated. He didn’t fear you, but he feared whoever Chamber was pretending to be.
“Tch. She’s got a mouth on her. Poorly trained.”
“She’ll learn.” Chamber’s voice dropped half a tone. “With time and discipline.”
The man’s jaw twitched, then she turned and stalked off into the haze.

Silence finally settled within you. And then Chamber moved toward you, slow and deliberate. He knelt down. Not to comfort and not to soothe. But to look you in the eye.

“Chamber I-” You didn’t get the chance to finish. His hand came up, firm yet careful, cupping your chin. The touch startled you, and you instinctively jolted back– but he caught you just as quickly, his other arm sliding behind your back, pulling you flush against him.

Your breath hitched.

Your faces were barely a breath apart. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t place the expression on his face. It wasn’t disappointment. It wasn’t irritation. Something… sharper. Grounded. Protective even.

“Now is not the time for apologies,” he said, voice low and tight. “And it isn’t the time to act surprised. I don’t know what the hell you got tangled back in there, but we need to give these bastards a show or we won’t make it out of here in one piece.”
You blinked, and then finally glanced around.

They were all watching.

Every pair of soulless eyes in that room, all turned toward you.
You were unbranded. Untamed, unclaimed– and that was enough to make you a target.

How did he know?
You didn’t have time to ask. He pulled a white handkerchief from his vest pocket and gently wiped the blood trailing down your chin. His thumb lingered at the corner of your mouth. It was a tender gesture… too tender for what it was supposed to be. Your throat tightened.

“What the hell happened?” he said, low and hard. “I told you not to stick your nose in business that isn’t the mission,”
“He picked me out.” You kept your head down, jaw clenched.
“You let him hit you.”
“I didn’t let anything.”

He studied you. “You almost got yourself killed.”
“Would you rather I slit his throat in the middle of this room?”
His eyes flickered, not with anger, but something sharper. Uncertain. “No… I would rather you acted like you belonged here.”
“What?”
Chamber’s jaw flexed slightly. “You are supposed to be mine. So act like it. Don’t act defiant. Look owned.”

You hated him for saying that. But worse, you hated that he was right. You have to be powerless.

You gave a slight nod.
“Good.” He smiled back at you with pride. “Then let us give them one hell of a performance, darling.”
He stepped back with slow, theatrical ease, his expression already shifting into something colder.
“Stand up, girl.” You followed his lead, pushing to your feet with your head bowed slightly. Already, whispers stirred again across the floor, rising like smoke in the air.
“Look at me.”

You raised your head.
Gone was the man who cleaned blood from your mouth. Who caressed your chin with gentle care. He stood there as someone else… composed, commanding and cold. His eyes were unreadable, but fixed on yours with unflinching intensity.

And then, he slapped you.
Not as hard as the other man, but loud enough to echo. Sharp enough to sting. You didn’t react. Not physically. Not visibly.
“That’s for making me look like a fool,” he snapped. “Try that again and I'll teach you what proper training feels like.”
More whispers. Laughter. You felt their attention shift. For better or worse, you weren’t prey anymore. You were property. Chamber’s property.

You nodded. Silent.
He turned without another word and led you toward a quiet, dimly lit corner of the lounge. The booth was tucked into the edge of a velvet room– plush red upholstery, heavy drapes, dark marble tables and golden ashtrays glimmering under dim chandeliers .Not too many eyes here. Not too few either.

Chamber sat down first, lounging with one leg crossover the other. He patted the seat beside him without looking. You obeyed and sat primly at the edge, spine straight, hands in your lap. He sighed. Loud enough to carry.
“That won’t do, girl.” Without waiting, his arm slid around your waist and pulled you in, closer than close, until you were between his legs. Your back pressed into his chest. Your breath caught.

“What are you-”
“Hush,” he murmured, mouth grazing the shell of your ear. You flinched, the sound of his breath too loud, the beat of his heart pounding against your spine, too real. He smelled like spice and vanilla, like something you couldn't’ define and suddenly the room felt too warm

It was an act.
Just an act.
So why did it feel like anything but?
You couldn’t focus. Not on Vascile. Not on the mission. Not on anything but the way Chamber’s voice vibrated behind your ear like it was speaking through you.
“This acting… is a little too much.” you whispered bitterly.
“I’m just doing my part.” he said quietly, his breath brushing warmly against your neck.
His hand rested against your hip. Not possessive, but steady. And you hated it.
This was too convincing. Hated how your pulse stuttered every time he touched you, how your body reacted before your mind caught up. You didn’t want this. You didn’t ask for it.

“Again gorgeous,” Chamber whispered near your ear, maddeningly calm and smooth. “Now isn’t the time to freeze up. Talk to me Aurora,” You exhaled through your nose. Now wasn’t the time to care. Not about his voice, or how close he was, or the way his breath brushed your skin.
“I saw him,” you murmured. “Vascile Albu. He is back through where we entered. Far end of the corridor. Surrounded by women and alcohol.”

“Anything else?” He added a tinge of alluringness that made your stomach twist. That was not needed… You shook your head in disappointment.
“As you probably guessed.” you continued, “This place has a disgusting theme. Women were treated like property. Branded. Leashed. Traded. There’s a hierarchy of ownership here.”
“So I have witnessed,” Chamber replied.

“I think if we want any intel about our little blackmailer,” you said, lowering your voice, “We’ll need to offer something that they see as equivalent value.”
“Let’s hope money can do it.”
You didn’t believe that for a second. “No.” You said, voice sharper, “I have a sinking feeling it is going to be worse. Much worse. I would rather just kill everyone here and be done with it.”
“That sounds messy,” Chamber muttered, his tone faintly amused. “So much blood. Effort. I’d rather keep things peaceful if possible.”

Your voice rose with a simmering anger, “Chamber, they are pimps. They are branding women like cattle. We’d be doing the world a favour.”
“That isn’t our mission.” Chamber snapped coldly.
Your jaw clenched. Your eyes locked with his. “Are you really letting innocents suffer? Just for the sake of ‘professionalism’? How noble of you.”
“I'd rather not get blood on my clothing,” he said, tone so flippant it nearly knocked the air out from your lungs.
“Are you fucking seriou-” Before you could finish, his hand clamped over your mouth. Then, in one swift, disorienting motion, he scooped you up and sat you directly on his lap. That’s when you heard it, the sound of footsteps. Several of them, getting closer.

His arms wrapped around your waist like a man indulging in something he owned. You could feel his breath shift as he leaned in and brushed his lips against your shoulder. Soft, practiced and perfect.

You were going to kill him.

The footsteps stopped just behind you. You knew who it was before he even spoke.

“Hope you are enjoying yourself this evening sir.” came a honey-laced voice. You didn’t need to look up to know… Vascile Albu. Slimy… arrogant tone had the exact kind of charm that meant nothing but danger.
“I was,” Chamber said smoothly, “Until some of your guests damaged my property.”
Vascile chuckled, feigning sympathy. “Apologies for that. Some of the clientele don’t know their place. But you…” His voice dropped an octave. “Have refined taste.”
He paused.

“Look at me girl.” You obeyed, lifting your gaze with such innocence in your eyes. His pale eyes were like faded ice, the kind of smirk that made your skin crawl. Lust coated his expression like a mask.
“Very refined,” he murmured. “Tell me, how much for her?”

What?

“She’ll do wonders in my studio.” Studio? Fucking studio?
“That depends,” Chamber said, his smile slow and serpentine. “What are you willing to give me?”
“Anything,” Vascile replied, sitting down across from you both. “Money, intel, women.” You had to fight the urge to gag.
Chamber let out a low amused hum. He grabbed your face, not roughly, but possessively and turned it to face him. His fingers brushed your cheek, thumb grazing your jaw. You hated it. Hated how easy it was for him. Hated how his eyes lingered, how his gaze searched yours not just for show, but like he actually saw something in you.
“She is far too pretty to be cheap,” he said darkly.

You wished you could slap him. Right here. Right now. The nerve of this man and his perfectly carved expression.

“Oh I am well aware. Hence why I am the first customer. And she isn’t branded yet, which means you’ve yet to truly claim her.” Now it made sense why they were all staring at you… You were an opportunity.
Chamber leaned back into the couch, still playing the role to perfection.

“I do have some interest in a certain person.” Vascile looked towards his guards, the guards left you three alone.
“I want intel on the blackmailer that you are in contact with.”
Vascile raised a brow, intrigued. “A hefty price you're asking. What about them?”

“Just need to know where I can meet them,” Chamber said smoothly, his tone lined with confidence. “I have some… very interesting intel. Something I imagine they would be quite eager to hear.”

His eyes widened a little bit, curiosity struck him. But the man still smiled with restraint.
“I will have to contact them first to ask if they wish to meet.”
“Surely this can be an exception.” Chamber’s head tilted slightly.

Vascile shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “No can do. I can ask… But it is up to them. If you are lucky. They’ll take you as a client.
Your stomach clenched. That wasn’t what you needed to hear. You glanced at Chamber, searching for any sign of a pivot in the plan, any flicker of frustrations, but his face remained cold and controlled.
“Well if that side of the bargain is done, may I please have the pretty girl?”

Chamber paused for a bit. He didn’t move. His lips parted just slightly. “You can only have her after the contact has happened.”
The temperature of the room shifted. A heavy pause settled over the table.
“They don’t really like having me contact them mid-investigation. By the end of the week, I’ll be able to. Give us her now.” He warned.
“You can’t have her when I get what I came for.” From the corner of your eye, you saw the guards returning. Pressure mounted in your chest. This wasn’t going to end cleaning.

“Sorry, that wasn’t negotiable.”
Just like that, the guards closed in, forming a loose circle around you. You exhaled sharply, eyes flicking back to Chamber, desperate for something- a signal, a shift, anything. But he didn’t move. You sighed and that was the last sound before a gunshot tore the world open.
Vascile’s skull cracked backward, the bullet slicing clean through his forehead. Blood splattered in every direction, painting the table, your chest and Chamber’s immaculate suit.

“I’m fucking glad it spilled onto your suit.” you muttered, venom in your voice.
The silence shattered into gunfire. You barely flinched as you threw up a wall of refracted light between you and the barrage. Chamber, unfazed, took a moment to pull off his glasses and clean them calmly, frank blood still dripping from his sleeve.
“At least you got what you want.” He looked at you over the rim of his lenses. “No darling, lower the barrier.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’ll do you one better.”

You snapped your fingers, and every bullet ricocheted back at the guards in perfect synchronized violence. They dropped instantly. The crowd- only now realising what had happened- began to scream and scramble.
Chamber’s smirk returned.

“For being so small, you are quite scary when angry.”
“Shut up and fight.” You barked out. Grabbing Vascile’s knife and the nearest gun, you crouched behind the table as five more guards opened fire. One bullet nicked your cheek- you barely felt it. Your eyes tracked every movement. Your vision blurred and doubled. Your breathing was ragged.

Not now. Not already.
You forgot how badly your power takes a toll on you. You fumbled through your jacket and stabbed yourself with your depression. Relief was almost immediate, heart calming, mind sharpening. You couldn't afford to break down.

Chamber was already cutting through bodies like a storm.
You conjured a radiant flash orb and hurled it into the air. The moment the light burst, the guards cried out in blindness. You seized this opening. Four shots, four clean kills. Satisfaction curled in your chest.

“Sorry darling but now is not the time to get cocky!” Chamber shouted over the chaos as he dropped beside you, reloading.
“I would never.” you muttered, injecting another dose. You summoned a wall of light in front of them and crept along the edges, silent as breath.

Once behind them, you struck. The knife slid across one throat, clean and fast. Another turned, but you grabbed the first body and hurled it into him. His arm caught the weight, too slow to defend. You buried your blade in his carotid, hot blood spilling on your arm. The remaining guards turned in panic, only to be shot clean through the back. They collapsed. You looked over your shoulder. Chamber’s eyes were on yours. Something had passed between you in that instant. You weren’t sure what. Then you turned to face the crowd. They were frozen. Cowering. Dozens on the floor, stunned by violence. You didn’t blink, didn’t move.

Chamber did.

Without hesitation, he raised his pistol and executed them all, one by one. The shots echoed like judgement. You said nothing. You watched. You let it happen.
Only the women remained, still trembling in fear.

You dropped the barrier. The moment it vanished, your knees gave out. You collapsed, body heavy with exhaustion. The buzzing in your ears grew louder. Your vision blurred again. You reached out for another injector, but your arms wouldn’t respond. Too weak… you felt the cold creeping in. Then– the pressure on your thigh. A sharp pinch. Relief

Your eyes cleared. Breathing levelled. Chamber knelt in front of you, one hand on your jaw, the other having just stabbed you with depression.
You blinked and muttered, “Thanks,” and tried to get up. Pain erupted in your side. You staggered, caught yourself against the walk, hand pressing into your abdomen. Warm blood soaked through your fingers.

You were shot.

You hadn’t even noticed. You looked to your right– a girl, barely a teenager, stared at you. Her eyes wide, lips trembling. You forced a smile,
“It’s okay,” you whispered. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”
The girl hesitated, then ran to you, throwing her arms around your waist in a trembling hug. You embraced her in return.
“I already called the Protocol,” Chamber said behind you. “They’ll extract us. The women will come with us to the safehouse. Cypher and Brimstone will return them to their homes.”

You released the girl gently and turned. Chamber knelt beside you, bruised and bloodied, his once perfect suit soaked in red. You Couldn't look at him. Not like this.
“I… I failed,” you said quietly. “We didn’t get the intel. And we can’t cover these tracks.”
“I disabled the cameras.” Chamber said, and held up a phone. “And I got this.”

Vascile’s.

Relief flooded you. You nodded weakly. He slipped one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you with practised ease. You didn’t resist. You let your head fall against his chest, breathing slowing as the pain dimmed.
“You did well, Aurora.” He murmured. His voice was smooth… low and gentle. It melted something inside you. You closed your eyes. He held you tighter, pressing his cheek to the top of your head
“I think you need some rest.” he whispered.” rest now darling. You did well.”

Chapter Text

The faint crunch of gravel stirred in your ears like whispers . You must have drifted. For how long? You weren’t sure. Minutes? Hours? The ache in your side still throbbed like a second heartbeat, every breath tugging on the wound like hooked wire. Bruises bloomed across your skin like ink stains, sharp and shallow.

“We’re here.” Chamber voice came low beside you in the night. Your eyes opened. His were the first thing you saw, deep brown, illuminated faintly by the porch light overhead. Even bloodied, even worn, his gaze still held its unbearable calm. Always glinting. Always watchful.

You turned your head toward the house, lifting your blistered hand to jar the door open. Chamber leaned across you, shouldering it open with a sharp thunk. His steps echoed inside, the soft thuds of leather over wood, the creak of old floorboards straining under his weight.

He carried you again, gently lowering you down to the cushioned couch. You hissed, pain flaring as the bullet lodged in your side reminded you it hadn’t left. Your body sagged, heavy as stone. Your limbs wouldn’t obey even if you wanted it too.

“Sage, Reyna and Killjoy are en route on the Vulture, they should be here within the hour.”

You let out a short breath, a small smile creeping on your face. “No private plane torture this time?”
He shook his head once. You could have laughed. You almost did. You would have made a joke about Yoru and Phoenix stealing the Vulture again. But the thought of him seeing you like this, pale, bleeding, half-slumped against the sofa. That wasn’t one worth joking about.

Chamber walked back to you. You didn’t even realise he left your side to begin with. Just how untouched are you from reality? He kneeled beside you, hand brushing over the bruises on your cheek with a strange tenderness. His skin was warm, incongruously gentle for a man who had painted the room red not even an hour ago.
“Let me clean you up.”
He was meticulous. Every cut was seen with the kind of focus that felt clinical, but not cold. Not exactly. His fingers worked deftly, dabbing blood from your face, cleansing the ragged lines at your jaw, pressing gauze against the bruises climbing your neck. He said nothing, and you didn’t breathe the silence either.

But it pressed between you. Heavy… Intimate. Tense.

You stared him as he worked. His earrings glinted faintly– silver studs you hadn’t noticed before. His eyes, usually so arrogant in a way that made you want to punch him, were unreadable now. Focused. Patient.

He’d done this before. That much was clear.
“You’re good at this,” you murmured. He didn’t look up,
“This isn’t my first time carrying a mission partner out of a mess.”

You thought about asking him. What was his story? Who did he work with prior? You didn’t.
“That’s all I can do for now.” he said, snapping the first aid kit shut. “Sage will have to remove the bullet when she arrives. You’ll live. Radiant perks.” You managed a ghost of a smile.

“I guess that just means I will have to take a bullet for you next time.” He shook his head and smiled,
“As if I would ever get in such a position.”

Your expression turned dry. Your smile on your lips faded. “I’m sorry.”
He glanced up. “For?”
You swallowed dryly. “For risking the mission. For snapping at you. For putting everyone in danger because I couldn’t walk away.” You looked at both your hands. “I don’t regret saving them, but… I regret compromising you. I acted emotionally… I.” Your words began spiralling.

He raised one hand. One finger brushed across your lips, halting the words. It startled you. It was soft, deliberate.
“I don’t need promises,” he said, voice low, unwavering. “I need your trust. I need your skill. You’re not perfect– none of us are. But I’ll cover for your mistakes just like you would do for me. That is my duty.” His eyes locked with yours.
“Do not let me down.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding unevenly, your throat dryer than before.
“I won’t.” Your voice almost sounded ghostly but your eyes, leaving an impressionable mark on him. A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.
“Good girl.”

You exhaled. Not from relief. Not fully, more from exhaustion. From the slow,creeping realisation that his words sank deeper than they should have.
He stood up, “Get some rest. I’ve already secured the perimeter.”

You nodded faintly. You wanted to ask what he meant. What he meant as if expected you to. As if it was inevitable But your body was heavier than your thoughts. With the adrenaline gone, the pain had taken its place. Yet, for the first time in what felt like hours, you were not afraid.
Not being alone. Not of bleeding out
Because he was still here.

Maybe it was trust. Trust, a fickle thing it is. Dangerous even. Soft in the hand, sharp in the gut. You didn’t know if Chamber meant the things he said. And yet here you are, trusting this man with your life. Maybe if god existed, he must have spited you. To think you would ever trust a man such as him, such as your continued existence in your hollow life.

CHAMBER’S POV:
The soft click of the door shutting behind him echoed faintly. Silence followed, until he heard your breath. Now quieter, slower, shallower. Asleep, just like that.

He turned to look. Even after the chaos, after the bullets, the blood, the searing edge of tension from the mission gone wrong– she slept. Or perhaps, passing out was the better term.

Chamber let the quiet settle. For a moment, he simply watched.

How curious you are, ma chérie. A good heart encased in something lethal. A blade cloaked in soft skin and calloused hands. He had watched you take cover behind a corpse with mechanical efficiency. Saw the way your eyes, flat, vacant and glassy– stared down your enemies as if their lives were never meant to be spared. The exact precision of your movements, how your blade sliced clean across a throat, no hesitation, no remorse. The screams didn’t shake. The blood didn’t deter you.

But you… you were the one who risked everything for a handful of strangers. How confusing.
And then your honesty. That stung more than it should have. That raw, unflinching admission of guilt, unfiltered and direct. You didn’t grovel. You didn't defend yourself. You said sorry.
I can’t promise it won’t happen again.
He couldn’t help the grin curling at his lips. You were far more interesting than he had anticipated.

The vibration in his coat pocket disrupted the quiet. He pulled the phone free with an easy motion, pressing it into his ear.
“Bonjour monsieur. How have you been, Brimstone?” He asked, his voice sliding into its usual cadence.
“How is she going?” Brimstone asked coldly. Straight to the point.
“Currently sleeping.”

Brimstone audibly sighed through the phone, long and strained.
“Sage will be there in five minutes. Where are the girls at the moment?”
Chamber stared out the darkened window, the shape of the bar still lingering in his memory like a stain.
“They are currently still at the bar. I told them to wait.”
“You left them there?” Brimstone’s voice sharpened. “Police could already be heading there.”
“The bar is far from the central district nor is it near anything else. Designed for its illicit dealings. No one will find it before morning. Four hours, maybe. Plenty of time to clean up.” Another pause. He could feel the disapproval through the line.
“If they go missing or end up in custody,” Chamber added, “Just less cleanup for Reyna.”

“You are brutally cold Chamber…” Disappointment was laced in his voice. Chamber leaned against the shabby desk in his room and chuckled quietly.
“You can’t be telling me that when the girl was actively willing to put all of us in danger.” Silence entered the room. And the silence spoke louder than any words that could have been said.

“Just please take care of her.” is all Brimstone could muster saying. Chamber chuckled, low and lean back against the rickety desk. “You say that as if you don’t know me.”
“She risked all of us,” Chamber added, “She made her choice.”

And yet, the silence that followed spoke louder than words.
“Just… take care of her.” Chamber sighed, gaze falling back onto your sleeping form. His reply was slower this time. Softer. He didn’t like that.
“I will always try my best, monsieur.”
“Thank you.” The phone hung up as abruptly as it could be. He tossed the phone carelessly on the bed and dragged a hand down his face. No, he wasn’t going to let you die. He wasn’t planning on it. But if it came down to you or the mission… Well. Some things weren’t worth debating.

“Just how long will you last with that kind heart…” he mumbled. He creaked open the door quietly and walked towards you. If he hadn’t known you were alive, he would have thought you died peacefully in your sleep. A sombre expression was left on you. He found it peaceful seeing you like this. There was something gentle about like this. Still… Human. And yet you were insane. Remarkable. Dangerous. Your instincts were sharpened to a lethal edge, your eyes able to slice through men like bullets. You didn't even flinch when the bodies fell.

And yet you smiled for strangers. Risked your life for people you’d never met. What kind of person does that?
Your eyes cracked open. He paused, meeting your gaze without flinching.
“Feeling a bit better?” he asked, voice lower now. You nodded. He stepped closer, returning your look with something unreadable. “Sage will be arriving shortly. I’ll take you to the helipad.
You smiled at him. Not the kind you offered your teammates in banter. Not the strained, tired smile of someone pretending they weren’t hurt.

This one was real.
“Thank you, Chamber,” you said. “For everything you have done for me.”
His breath hitched, only slightly. His eyes widened, then quickly softened. Why did it feel like you meant it? His heart beated louder. One he never thought existed in the first place, and he felt something.
What an awful, useless thing.

Just please take care of her.
Brimstone’s words lingered in his mind.
“Of course,” he masked the flicker of emotion with a practice

As if… he thought. Deep inside, buried deep. Not stirred back into being. Not now. Not after everything. And not because of you.
You were dangerous for far too many reasons.
If you kept smiling at him like that, he might start believing you could survive this world with your heart still intact. And that was the worst illusion of all.

Kindness won’t survive this line of work. And if it did… it won’t be him who kills it. The world will do that for him.

It was all.

Just

Simply

Pointless.

Chapter Text

Aurora’s POV:
Warmth cradled your body like a second skin.
The sun poured over you, soft and golden, watching with the quiet reverence of something ancient. You tilted your head back into it, letting the light settle into every pore. A gentle breeze danced through your hair, tousling loose strands around your ears. The sand sifted through your fingers, cool and grainy. The waves playing against your shins, lapping softly as seagulls cried above like distant laughters.

You breathed in the deep, the scent of salt wrapping around your lungs.

It was perfect. A little paradise tucked between heartbeats.

“That’s where you went.” A familiar voice spoke from behind. You turned around to be greeted with a coffee in hand and a phone dangling between his fingers. His brow was furrowed, lips pursed in annoyance. He looked like someone who’d just lost a very unnecessary game of hide and seek.

“You shouldn’t have left me like that.” he scolded. “You didn’t even take your phone.”
He gave a mischievous smile, the kind he had learned to read far too well. He sighed, defeated already, and sank beside you in the sand. His posture slouched the moment he hit the ground, head tipping back in reluctant ease.

You pulled your knees to your chest, watching him through the corner of your eye, his face bathed in warm light. His hair tousled in the wind. His lashes are golden at the tips. Beautiful, as always– too much so.
“Well it shouldn’t have mattered how long you took to find me. You promised to be with me.” You murmured.

He pressed the cold rim of his iced coffee against your arm. You yelped, swatting him away with a laugh.
“That arrogance…” He sighed out, “It will kill us both.”
You grinned wider, devilish. “Hey, I know you like it. You said you’d spend the rest of our lives together.” You grinned and resurfaced again.

He groaned, head in his hands. “I wish to change a clause in the deal.” Your eyebrows lifted.
“Oh? Do elaborate.”
He leaned in, resting his head on your shoulder. Voice softened, “Forever is too short. I want something longer.”
You stayed quiet, listening.
“How about the end of times? Even when our souls disappear from the earth and no remnants of us are scattered here. Even when all memory traces disappear and the world no longer remembers our names. Even if the world was ending and nothing was left. For eternity.” You only huffed out a smile and chuckled. Your face flush as you relax your shoulder. Of course. Forever more to the end of times right?

I’ll always remember.

Your eyes slowly drift open, as your vision clears to the plain grey-blue roofing you always see. You must be back at HQ. Must have been a dream.

To your right, the sunlight spilled through the blinds. A bouquet of crimson flowers stood beside your bed- - fresh and carefully arranged. Next to it, a handful of wrapped letters and a few small gifts. Protocol tradition, no doubt. Congratulations on surviving your first mission.

Barely.

You looked down at your hands, both wrapped tightly in bandages. Your palms pulsed with a dull ache. Maybe you’d gripped your daggers too hard. Maybe it was your nerves. Maybe something else.

“You’re awake.” You flipped your head to see Sage standing at the door, a soft smile on her face. Her presence was like balm- calm, steady and dependable. She walked in and placed the mountainous stack of paperworks on the desk, the impact sitting a puff of dirt.
“How long was I out?” You rapeseed.
“Thirteen hours,” she replied, pulling a chair beside you. “You passed out the moment we boarded the Vulture.”
Thirteen hours? Killjoy and Phoenix must have been worried sick. You could only hope they were all doing okay.

Sage carefully rolled up your sleeve, examining your arms and hands. Her fingers moving around, analysing every aspect of you.
“You seem to be all good now. All your wounds have recovered. Just take the day off from doing any extensive training.” You nodded and leaned forward on the bed, only to feel the stickiness on your skin. You were still wearing that god forsaken ruined dress. You tilt your head left and right, stretching ever stiff muscles into place.

“Oh also Aurora.” You looked back up towards her. The corners of her mouth were brought to a smile, one overpowering with pride. “Good job completing your first mission.” You paused for a moment and then gave a slight smile. A piece of guilt sank deeper in your chest.

If only she knew.

You arrived back at your room, the doors opening to your plain bedroom. Your gear laid on the side table, cleaned and sharpened. You picked one up, feeling it's perfect weight, the polished obsidian glinting against the light. You turned it in your hands, testing the blade against your fingertip.
It was flawless. Chamber’s handiwork, no doubt.

You had underestimated him. You knew he was skilled, but this level of care, this precision, it surprised you. Every edge was honed to perfection. You slipped out of your tattered dress with care. It didn't really matter if it tore, not anymore. But there was something about preserving it. As if that dress was a witness to everything you wanted to forget.

The shower steamed around you as you stepped in. You leaned against the yield wall, letting the water drawl over your skin. The ache in your muscles eased. You closed your eyes, letting the hours bleed away, one drop at a time.

You had barely finished wrapping the towel around yourself when the sharp clang of knuckles strikes metal echoed through your room. Your hair, damp and dripping, clung to the nape of your neck. The soft flush of heat still lingered on your cheeks. Your phone vibrated. A message.

Unknown: We haven’t met yet. But I am Reyna, an agent for the protocol. I sent all those poor girls back home. I’m here to let you know they all got back to their homes as of now. Thank you for saving them from that. I hope we can meet at the protocol when we have time.

Your thumb lingered above the screen as you read it over again. Reyna… her name had only come up briefly in passing conversations. You knew little of her other than her fearsome reputation.
But they made it. The girls. They were home… Safe.
The weight you hadn’t even noticed bearing down on your shoulders suddenly eased, just enough for your lung to expand properly again. Maybe… just maybe, what you did had meaning.

You slipped on some clothes, something soft, loose. Something that wouldn't cling to your tender bruises. Two loud banging noises come at the door.

“Come in!” You shouted out. The door hissed wide open. You turned around. It was Chamber. You were taken aback, you expected Killjoy or even Phoenix to be the first ones coming to your room asking you about how it went.

He stood there, the picture of smug elegance, casually leaning against the doorframe like he belongs in a magazine spread instead of your doorway. A single brow arched.
“Is it that shocking for me to come visit you?” His voice was warm with amusement.

You started a second too long before rolling your eyes with a dramatic flair. “Didn’t peg you for the sentimental visitor type. Did someone dare you to come check if I was still alive?”
Chamber placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “You wound me ma belle. Do you truly think I only show up when I want something?”
“Yes.” You deadpanned.
He chuckled, rich and unapologetically entertained, “Fortunately for you, I’m not here on work matters.” He said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. “Unless, of course, teasing you counts as work.”
“Tragically, you’re underqualified for that,” you muttered.
“I disagree,” he replied smoothly, “ I consider myself highly specialised in that.” You snorted.

“I’m here to ask if you care to join the protocol in a party to commemorate your first mission completed.” You comically blinked twice and leaned back against the headboard.
“We’re throwing a party… because I survived?”
He smiled wider. “They would have partied either way. But yes— survival and victory. A double cause.”

“Free drinks? Killjoy brings her chaos playlist. Brimstone pretends to disapprove while secretly enjoying it and Phoenix tries to out dance everyone?”
“You know them well already,” he winked, “So… Can I tempt you?”

“Do I have a choice to not do so anyway?” Your eyes squinted.
“Not really. But I thought I would offer the illusion of autonomy.” You sighed dramatically and stepped toward him, alreading imagining the headache tomorrow.

Except, he didn’t move. You turned back. Chamber was still at the door ,watching you with a gaze that lingered a little longer than polite. His eyes traced the damp edges of your hair,the faint steam from your shower still curling at your collar.

“What?” you asked.
He smiled - wolfish and lazy. “Just admiring. Hard not to, when beauty walks straight out a dream.” He said, stepping finally beside you, his cologne just faint enough to steal your breath.

“Do you drink often?” He questioned.
You gave him a sideway glance, “Not at all, not in the slightest. But I can see the appeal. It seems fun.” You chuckled lightly. There was some truth to it.“Killjoy gets drunk really fast. She is super jolly when she is.” Chamber laughed, a genuine sound, low and rare. “I haven’t seen her like that before.”
“Jett and Phoenix usually hype her up. The rest of us try to keep her from electrocuting herself.”

He smirked, as if picturing the disaster. “Sounds like a party worth surviving.” You looked over at him, catching the subtle curve of his lips, the way he glanced at you sideways when he thought you weren’t watching. This may be impossible. But maybe, just maybe, you were starting to like the trouble he brought with him. And that was dangerous.

Maybe he was interested in Killjoy. You snorted at such thoughts. Killjoy, into someone like Chamber? As if. Besides, you could barely hold your own against his smooth-talking, cologne wearing arrogance. Anyone else trying to flirt with you would’ve been laughable. Chamber, unfortunately, was irritatingly effective.

“Aurora!” Phoenix's voice was heard loud and clear. You looked up and gave a small wave. The party was already in full swing. Killjoy was swaying left and right with a bottle of soju in hand, Raze giggling beside her like she was the designated chaotic companion for the night. Brimstone and Viper stood at the edge of the room, stone-faced but present, with Sage hovering behind them like a guardian angel.

You scanned it. room. Jett lounges across from Killjoy, flipping a bottle cap between her fingers. Neon sat nearby, her expression soured, eyebrows furrowed like someone just insulted her. You followed her gaze and… Ah. Of course it is Chamber. It seems the drinking has already started. You stared at Killjoy who was swaying left and right with soju in her hand and Raze by her side. Brimstone and Viper were just at the edge of the circle, with Sage just hovering behind them with a smile.

“Didn’t expect to see you here too Chamber! What’s good? Finally consider giving me a custom gun?” Chamber shook his head and chuckled lowly.
“Sorry Phoenix. Maybe when you are my partner, I can consider it.” You snorted under your breath, as if he would ever make one for you. Not that you even really care. A gun isn’t your choice to kill.
Suddenly, the weight of Killjoy lounged on your back and the reek of alcohol burned through your sense of smell.
“Aurora! Thank goodness you are alright! Congratulations on your first mission!” Killjoy sang out. “You go girl!”

You chuckled, “Thank you girl.”
“Enjoy the night! Here, take these drinks.” Killjoy handed you a set of soju. You glanced down below her to see the battlefields of empty bottles by her feet. Then not Raze, who gave you a helpless shrug. I tried.

You sighed. Killjoy was a hassle to deal with drunk-face. Most times she was like this, it was you having to stop her from creating some crazy robot ideas and then dealing with her explosive crying after her realisation of how bad the ideas would have been. You shuffled Killjoy off your back.

“Oh Aurora!” Phoenix yelled out. “Meet my partner. Yoru!” You turned around and met with a smug smile written all over his face. His appearance wasn’t what you expected, slicked back hair with a streak of cerulean blue in the centre. Enough smugness to rival Chamber himself. He almost looked like a street punk… His clothes didn’t make it seem any better.

“Heard you were good. Maybe we should fight some time just to see how good you really are.” And yet the two shared a similar ego… You reciprocated the arrogance,
“With pleasure. But don’t cry to me once you realise you are out of your league.” Yoru smirked, his interest laced all over his face. He whispered towards Phoenix ear. You were unable to hear what he said, but judging by Phoenix’s expression of disappointment, it couldn’t have been good.
“Stop spending time with the idiots. Come join us instead!” Jett tugged on your arm, guiding you toward the growing circle on the floor. Killjoy plopped down beside you, carefully checking that her bottles were within arm’s reach like precious delicacies.
“I want to tell you about the restaurant Jett took us to in Korea. Can you believe it? She worked there before becoming an agent!” Killjoy squealed in delight. “It was so freaking good. You have to come with us next time when we are all free!” You huffed out a smile,

“I’m currently free right now. My next mission isn’t going to be anytime soon so we should go soon.” Killjoy bounced up and down excitedly, like a child in unbelievable feelings of jubilation. It was rather cute.
“Just be careful Aurora. The food is spicy.” Jett nudged you,
“I like spicy food. When I first joined the protocol, Killjoy took me to a Korean barbeque. It was amazing.” you responded.

Laughter rippled through the group. You felt warm, less from the soju and more from the feeling that maybe, you really do belong here.

Conversations bounced from one topic to another. Fierce debate over who was the best pop idol, music hot takes, and even a very intense ranking of everyone’s worst mission fails.
“Oh, remember when Phoenix got stuck in the teleport pad?” Jett added.
Phoenix held up his hand. “In my defence, that was a tactical repositioning.”
“Yeah…” Neon snorted, “Straight into a wall.”

Sova, quiet but ever listening, chuckled from his corner. Even you shared a few stories, to everyone’s delight. Especially Chamber’s. You spotted him across the room, watching you from afar with a glass of win in his hand, untouched. An unreadable smirk spread across his face. He hadn’t joined the circle. Neither Brimstone or Viper. But it made sense. They weren’t the site and gossip kind.

“Phoenix! Give me my drinks back!” Jett shouted, half-laughing, half serious as she reached for the two bottles clutched in his hand.
“No can do girl! You gotta get me to get them back!” Phoenix grinned before bolting down the hallway. Jett groaned, and staggered to her feet, her words slurring slightly from the few too many drinks she had. “Come back here! You're a dead hot man!” And just like that, the two vanished into the night, their laughter echoing down the corridor. You sighed, already predicting one of them would end up bruised.

“You go Jett! Kick his sorry ass!” Killjoy shouted after them, a full five seconds too late for it to land.
“Alright that’s enough alcohol for you girl.” Raze insisted, gently plucking the bottle out of her hands. Killjoy pouted, reaching her hand out for the denied drinks.
“Nooooo please, one more.” Her words were slurred and softer. Her cheeks were flushed, her head wobbling slightly as she leaned into Raze’s shoulder. You sipped your drink and smiled at the familiar chaos.
“Would you like some help?” You asked, settling your third drink down on the kitchen table. Raze lifted her face from the ground and shook her head.
“No thank you. I can take care of her. Go rest up girl.”

“More soju…” Killjoy mumbled on as Raze dragged her out of the room. You huffed out a smile, they really are something else.
“I’ll also make sure Phoenix doesn’t do dumb shit anymore.” Yoru called out lazily from where he stood, already heading down the opposite hall.
“Take care Yoru. It was a pleasure meeting you. Make sure Phoenix stays alive.”
“No promises,” he muttered with a smirk before disappearing into the dark.

The room had emptied, leaving behind a battlefield of tipped over bottles and scraps on the floor. The scent of sugar and spirits hung thick in the air. You crouched and began collecting the empty soju bottles, stacking them onto the table.

As you stood again, your eyes were drawn to the window, past the flickering hallway lights and onto the balcony just beyond. The full moon sat high in the ink-black sky. Stars scattered all around the full moon as it complemented the radiated silver lights over the waves below. Your eyes caught a glimpse of a dark silhouette of someone leaning against the metal fencing. Unmistakably him. Even if the light hadn’t caught the soft shimmer of his golden nanotech on the side of his head. His figure was cut too clean for it to be anyone else.

You hesitated for a breath, then pushed open the door quietly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But of course, he always noticed.

“Finally, come to join some real company?” His voice was warm with amusement. You would have rebutted against his statement if it wasn’t for the godforsaken chill that ran down your spine. The air was crisp and sharp, each breath you took, an endless stream of cold was felt through your lungs. You guessed he was used to it if he has been out here like this for hours. You sat down next to him, your legs through the gaps of the railing. After a beat, he decided to join you on the floor, knees pulled up casually.

“You missed the entire party Chamber. They all already left drunk.”
“Sometimes they can get a bit too much.”

You huffed out a small laugh and nodded. That much is very true. “You are right. They can be a bit much,”

“Sometimes,” He continued, glancing at you, “Sometimes I prefer this kind of company." You stared up at night. The stars fiercely glittered, scattering around the sky like diamonds.
“The view is very pretty.” You murmured. He chuckled in response slowly and shook his head. You tilted your head towards him wanting to know what was funny.

Instead, he handed you a drink with a smile on his face. You grabbed it from his hand and cracked it open, the fizziness popping as you clinked with his. You took a long sip of your drink and sighed in satisfaction, it was sweet. Just your liking.
“You know Aurora,” he said slowly, “If you keep drinking like that, you’re going to poison yourself.” You nonchalantly shrugged, watching the foam slide down.
“Poisons come in all shapes and forms. I’ll happily die to an addictive sweet lie.”
He grinned, “Just my kind of girl.” He gulped his drink down all in one and with a hasty sigh of relief following it. Seeing him so unwineded, slack even, it was kind of relieving, you weren’t sure how to put it into words.

“You’re… different tonight,” You finally said.
He raised a brow. “Should I be insulted?”
You stared back at the ocean blues, a smile coming back to you. “No… not at all.”
He chuckled, low and sincere.

“You know Aurora. Out of all the partners I could have ever had for this job, I never expected to meet someone like you.”
You nearly choked on your drink. “Wow. Honest and abrupt.”
He cracked open another can, slower this time, letting it sit in his hands. “You’re impulsive, you are inexperienced with our work and inflexible. You are so compassionate about others feelings, for people that wouldn’t bat an eye at you. And yet you work your hardest, try your best and push through despite how much trouble you put yourself in.” You hovered your mouth over the can,
“If you didn’t like me as a partner, then go ask Brimstone to switch dickhead.”

He smirked, “You are also very blunt, and a very conspicuous person.”
You rolled your eyes.
“And yet,” he said, voice dipping quieter, “I can’t say I am upset by such things. It’s a refreshing change of pace to say the least.”
“Is it now? If I could, I’d replace you with Killjoy or Phoenix.”
He scoffed. “You always wound me madam. So cruel for someone so lovely.” You stared down at the sand far below. The wood beneath you was cracked, sun-worn. Like you, fragile in places, but still holding strong.

“There is nothing lovely about me,” You whispered. “Not inside.”
He was silent for a long moment. And then huffed out a breath, one you took as a laugh. “Who said I look for that kind of lovely?”
You smirked faintly. “You flirt with Viper. Your standards are in the gutter.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “She hates me. Passionately.”
“Can’t imagine why.” You set your drink down. You need your words steady now.

“And what are your feelings towards me?” You tilted your head to him, caught by the weight of his stare. He wanted an honest truth. Those beautiful brown eyes, that anticipating gaze shot through your soul. You really couldn’t get out of this one can you? You let out a sigh.

“You are annoying, incredibly flirtatious, cold and arrogant. It makes me want to smash my head against a brick wall some days. We are polar opposites like the sand and water. We don’t mix well. And yet… I can’t bring myself to hate you. Maybe because I know that behind the charm and snarky, you still try. You show up. You don’t give up on me, even when I probably deserve it.” You really took it in, your true honest feelings you really never thought about. It shocked even yourself.
“I can’t say I can hate you Chamber. And I can’t say I will be a good partner to you either. But I couldn’t have wanted anyone else.” Still no smile, no teasing. Just the soft shimmer of something unspoken behind his eyes.

“Just remember Aurora. You or the mission-”
“Yes I know.” You interrupted, “You’ll choose the mission.” You smiled faintly. “I admire that about you too. It is truly remarkable.”

The words lingered through your head long enough, you wouldn’t have ever admitted this, never in your life you thought you would. And as something as a night sky with drinks in your hands, it was as easy as breathing.

He glanced down at his empty can “I could say the exact same thing about you too…” You glanced at him.
“I couldn’t have asked for a better partner other than you Aurora.” He clearly spoke his words, his truths. You could only raise a corner of your lip and say one word.

You nodded, “Thanks.”

You two had your moments of peace, from an island surrounded by nothing but the ocean seas. A fragile relationship you shared with him that not the others would ever see. Seconds bled like moments. Time felt as it stopped, and those non-linear seconds felt like hours as you quietly sat next to him by your side. The silence between you was filled with the sounds of waves brushing the sands, the winds conversing quiet tales to all the trees. And upon all the quiet conversations, you two perched above observing them all.

“It’s really cold…” You mumbled as a shiver shuddered down your spine like static.
“You wouldn’t survive a day in France my darling.” his grin was wide. You shook your head in agreement,
“I feel as though I wouldn’t survive much of anything without you. Though, that is just a hunch.” You noted.

He patted you on your head with a solemn smile. The gesture was surprisingly tender. You reciprocated it back, watching the ocean blues sway side by side. You stayed a while longer next to him, his presence comforting you within the dead of night. With enough honest words said, silent exchanges were being held in its place. Because if you spoke again, feelings wouldn’t have been truer than those moments. And you knew Chamber had felt the same. We have our lives filled with secrecy and stillness. All of it built entirely upon it. And despite our temptations to unearth it, secrets are left buried dead. For a transaction between two must be made for one to be unveiled. And despite our temptations to unearth it all, neither of us are willing to give our own. For once, you were happy you had stop drinking.

Chapter Text

You didn’t see Chamber for days after that night. At first, you brushed it off. He was a busy man. No one really batted an eye. It wasn’t until the thirteenth day that you finally gave in and asked.

You still remember how blank the looks were. A couple shrugs and moved right on. No one noticed he was gone.
Apparently you were the only one who did.

You tried to dismiss the uneasy tightness in your chest, labelling it off for what it should have been. Simple mild curiosity. Maybe a dash of concern.

Was it because of that night?

It was a stupid thought. It couldn’t have been. Someone like Chamber probably had places to be, meetings to attend, secrets to trade. He probably had a hundred lives outside of the protocol, scattered across continents and cocktail glasses.
That’s what you kept telling yourself. Say it enough times… Maybe one day it will feel true.

You buried yourself more in the indulgence of good food and work than anything else. Quite possibly the only thing you really ever do aside from the occasions to hang outs with the others. As Killjoy would describe you, a worka-fooda-holic. Which isn’t entirely true but not entirely false either.

You were flat on your bed now, limbs heavy, brain fried. With a sharp groan, you threw the latest report across the room.
That made 10.

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a long sigh scraping out of you. lungs. Your arms arched, your eyes stung, and your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. You were done.
What the hell was the point of all of this? All these files, all this history. Morocco… Bennet island, the mirror worlds. And still, not a single damn answer.

You’d gone through everything, mission records, agent logs… anything you could possibly get your hands on. But your trail was like smoke. Every new lead just raised more questions. This had to be the right place to find what you desired. But maybe you were looking at it in the wrong way. Maybe this is some sort of cruel joke.

You sat up in your chair and spun slowly, eyes landing on your room. It was so bare. Aside from a desk, a bed, a chair and some framed photos Killjoy printed for you. There was nothing else.
No trinkets. No posters. No old keepsakes.
Nothing that proved this place belonged to a person with a past.
Like it was waiting for a real occupant.

And yet maybe the emptiness was the most you think about this room.

You’d spun back around and stared blankly at the desk. Your daggers were still out– laid haphazardly like you’d thrown them there in exhaustion. A danger hazard. Not that you really cared much for it.

Your eyes flicked to your phone.

Maybe Chamber?
You froze. Absolutely fucking not.
You yanked the thought of your head like weeds. Asking him for help? The man would hold it over your head until the day you died. Probably leave a smug note on your tombstone. You owe me one.

You scoffed and tapped the desk in agitation. Still… if there is anyone who could find the truth, who had the resources, it would be that clever bastard brain to pull it off.

You hated that.

You leaned forward, elbows on your desk, pressing your knuckles into your temples. The silence in the room was loud… too loud. One thought is heavy on you like lead.

Just where is the fucking frenchman?

Maybe you had been too honest. Too vulnerable. The night had felt… real. Too real. And you hadn’t meant for it to go that far. You’d said he was a good partner. That was it. That was all.

So why do you feel this way?

You reached for your phone again.
One message.
That’s all it would take.

Your fingers hovered for a while, then slowly curled back.
You grimaced at the thought. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You dropped your hand. The thought of texting him made you sick. What would you even say?
You slammed your palm down on the desk. A loud thud echoed through the room.
Your chest aches with a frustration you never felt before. Your pride splinters under all your overthinking. You bit your bottom lip.

He is overreacting. Stupid fucking idiot.

He is the one being dramatic. Not you. Not this time .

You needed a distraction, a good one at that.

The hall outside your room was dim, quiet. Everyone was probably asleep. But you didn’t care. You needed control over something… anything.

~
Your aimless spiral brought you to the one palace that always welcomed your craziness. The training grounds.
It was dead silent, not a single soul in sight. Just the hum of overhead lights and the hollow vastness of the empty room. The air was still, dust floating lazily through beams of dim light like in a breeze. To most, it would feel eerie. To you, it was peace. Perhaps that meant you were a little manic. Dressed in black spandex shorts, a tank top clinging to your skin, and twin daggers sheathed at your sides, you certainly looked the part.

“Practice mode on.” You called out. The room roared to life. Lights exploded above you with sterile brightness, momentarily blinding. The ground beneath your feet shuddered and shifted, transforming into a terrain of moving pillars, elevated platforms and shifting walls. A warzone.

Without flinching, you stepped onto a rising platform, eyes locked on the incoming bots as their sensor lit crimson like a row of executioners. Like city lights high above. It was beautiful. Like death flashing before you. Like one last concert before your breath ran thin.

Unfortunately, you can’t die just yet. You smirked.

Let’s begin.

Gunfire erupted. You crouched low, your calves tightening like coils before you launched into motion. Bullet sang past your ears, one grazing your shoulder, just enough to sting… enough to ground you.
Sliding down a slick steel incline, you flung a dagger without even turning to look ,your palm snapping shut to twist the refraction field behind you. The shot redirected mid air, slamming into one of the bots with a violent metallic screech. The clatter of broken metal was almost musical.

You flipped forward, your second blade finding a home in the chest of another bot. Sparks burst around you like fireworks. You ripped the blade free, debris raining from above as a bot exploded. You didn’t flinch. You never did. Just shoved the remains aside and jabbed yourself with a small injector to keep your radiant power from burning out.

You had to keep pushing. You had to get stronger.

Then… you felt it.
A chill swept over the arena.

You paused, daggers up, spine straightening with instinctual fear. A black wind howled through the training ground. Not a bot. Not anything man-made.

Something else.

You turned quickly, your vision narrowed. The air distorted with a dense, unnatural fog. Guttural murmur echoed through it, like whispers bleeding through static.

This was not part of the simulation.

Run

Your body tensed up. You barely had the time to think before it lunged. A killing blow just behind you.
You immediately backed up, your eyes scanning frantically. A figure emerged. Hooded, masked. Slitted eyes on the mask glowing faintly. Metallic armor laced his frame. It stood like a wraith. Unmoving. Unphased.

You threw yourself to the side, feeling the whisper of steel slice past your ribs. You retaliated instantly, hurling a dagger towards its core. The figure dodged with unnatural precision, sidestepping like it knew the move before you made it. You lunged next, going low, aiming for the chest. But it caught your strike mid motion and twisted. Its blade arcing for your neck. You dropped, the edge slicing strands from your hair.

You retreated quickly, panting. This thing… It’s not human.

Your left arm ached. You glanced down, blood ripping in rhythmic beats onto the metallic floor. You hadn't even noticed you’d been hit.

It came again, silent and vicious. You created a refraction field in front of you and vanished behind it. The figure paused mid step. You watched carefully from the shadows, your breath shallow.
From the top of a pillar, you launched a flashbang behind him, then struck from the opposite side.
The light burst. You pushed forward.
This is it, you aimed straight for his chest, blade poised.

But your dagger vanished. Not like a mission. Like it phased through. You stood there confused. Maybe it didn’t draw blood. Maybe it just disappeared into thin air like that. No… that couldn’t be it. Even if your vision failed you, you knew… That bloodlust still remained.

And before you could comprehend it, a blade appeared in your throat. You spun around, steel colliding with steel. Their strength was overwhelming. You barely managed to block as he swept your legs out from beneath you. You hit the ground hard, air knocked from your lungs.

You opened your eyes just in time to see the knife drop toward your face. You jerked your head aside, and it buried itself in the floor beside your skull with terrifying force. The metal beneath cracked.

Your heart thundered in your ears. You struggled against them. Their strength was inhuman. Your arms trembled, your vision swimming.

You can’t win.

“STOP!”
The voice broke through the fog like a gunshot. The pressure banished. The knife stopped cold. You blinked up at the masked figure as they looked to the side. And there, running barefoot across the floor in a white set of pajamas was sage.

“Omen stop! She is with us.” Sage snapped.

A moment paused for us all. Your brain is still trying to connect the dots.

“She is?”
“Sorry, you’re a fucking sentient being?!” A sound like a deep, offended groan echoed from the mask. It seems it had feelings.
“Agent number 3, one of the first agents to ever join the protocol. Omen.” Brimstone walked into the scene. This is the person Killjoy and Sage were talking to you about. You scoffed astoundedly. Omen leaned back off you, allowing you to finally catch your breath.

Sage knelt beside you, healing you instantly. Warmth spread through your shoulder and ribs.
“We got a message from Omen reporting an intruder in the training facility. Someone wearing a black tank top and flimsy shorts.” Brimstone recited with mild amusement.
Your nostrils flared, your lips pressing thinly into a frown. Omen merely turned away, even without an apparent face, you could tell he wasn’t going to apologise.

Brimstone grinned, “He did a number on you.”
“Yeah, no shit.” You remarked. What a frivolous answer.
“Not a bad thing. He is quite skilled in his work. I’m shocked he didn’t kill you before we arrived.” He offered his bulky calloused hands to you. You reciprocated with a smile and pulled yourself up.
“If Sage didn’t intervene, I would have,” He remarked.

“The only question I have is. Why did you assume that.” Your question was clearly directed towards Women.
He crossed his arms, “No one is awake at this time. It’s 2 am. I have never seen you before nor was I aware of what the new agent that joined us looked like. I also have had people in the past try to infiltrate HQ.”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward Brimstone. “Old mistake. Noted.”

Omen exhaled heavily, almost like a sigh of regret. “Still, you are skilled. I apologise for the hostile introductions.” He held out a hand, warped in tight dark bandages. You took it,
“Name is Aurora. No hard feelings.”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sage glaring at Omen. You smiled. He was definitely getting chewed out later.

“I think that’s enough murder attempts for one night,” Brimstone said. “Go get some rest.”
You nodded, still catching your breath.

What a fucking distraction.

~~

Surprisingly you woke up the next day without a scratch. No lingering pain from the knife that nearly split your head wide open. No soreness from being thrown across a training floor. Just exhaustion.

No matter how hard Sage tried, there was no healing chronic sleep deprivation. Still you dragged yourself out of bed, shoved your tangled hair into a loose bun. You trudged toward the cafeteria. As the doors hissed open, a bright beam of sunlight pierced your eyes.

“Answer US Aurora!”
Killjoy dramatically pointed at you from the opposite side of the room. At her side were Phoenix, Yoru, Jett and Raze, all mid-breakfast and way too invested in this interrogation. You blinked, utterly unprepared.
“Good morning to you too, KJ.”
“Well?!” Killjoy insisted, “Was it you?”

You sighed and ignored her, heading to the counter to grab a mug of whatever caffeinated sludge counted as coffee here.
“WAS. IT. YOU?!” Killjoy repeated.
“No it wasn’t me.”
“Liar!” She responded. She dramatically marched towards you. “I’ve asked everyone here so far! All signs point to you! 2 am in the morning. Training room incident. You’re the only one insane enough to be awake at that hour!”
You casually poured your drink, “Doesn’t mean it was me.”
“I know you are lying girl! Pleaseee.” She grabbed your arm with puppy dog eyes. You smirked at her desperation.
“Yeah it was me.” You replied blatantly. The table erupted.
“See I knew it!” Killjoy replied.

Yoru reached his hand out between the middle of Phoenix and Jett.
“I win,” he said smugly. Phoenix groaned.
“You guys bet on this?” You asked flatly.

Phoenix strolled over and gave you a hearty clap on the back. “Yo, for real though, you are insane for fighting Omen. Like actually, insane.”
“Not like I wanted to.” You replied.
“Girl, I am just glad you didn’t die.”

“Seriously, he is one of the deadliest people in the protocol.” Killjoy added.
“I noticed.”
“His powers let him teleport and create shadows that disorient vision,” She explained, “He is practically built for assasination. You should try talking to him, maybe learn a few techniques. His style's actually a lot like yours.”

You tilted your head. “I’ll try my best but I will need to try my best to catch him when he is free.”
The doors slip open behind you.
“Am I interrupting something?”

You froze.

Chamber stood at the entrance, dressed impeccably in his navy suit, a polite smirk stretched across his face. Calm. Polished. Maddeningly untouchable.
A wave of emotions crashed over you. Relief, irritation and confusion. All colliding and retreating before they could show on your face. You simply stared at him, coffee in hand.

“Yo Chamber! How are you doing man?” Phoenix greeted him with a grin, “You aren’t intruding at all. We are just talking to Aurora about her fight with Omen.” Chamber’s smirk didn’t waver as he leaned casually against the doorframe.
“Ah. That is impressive.” His eyes flicked to you briefly. Just for a moment. The flicker of something passed through the, too quick to catch.
“I’m here for Aurora,” he continued smoothly. “Work matters, of course.”

Of course.

You gave a brief nod to the others. “Work calls. I’ll see you guys later.”
They waved as you passed, your smile brittle but convincing. The moment the doors sealed behind you, the smile dropped like a stone. He walked beside you without saying anything at first. Just the soft clicks of shoes against the floor, the echo of your own and his steps through the endless corridors.

“So,” he finally said, fixing his tie, “What this I heard about you getting into knife fights with teammates?”
Your eyes shifted to him, “Omen thought I was an assassin in the training room. Tried to kill me.”
“And yet, you are alive. Quite an achievement.” His chuckle was smooth, airy– like none of it truly mattered. As if your brush with death was just another morning anecdote to file away.
“I would have died if Sage didn’t intervene. But nevermind that, what’s the status? Have Cypher heard word of the blackmailer?” You asked.

Chamber’s tone shifted, if only slightly. “No. He is still trying to pinpoint this blackmailer. We are on a different mission.” You nodded. Your eyes locked with the floor. Business as usual. No mention of the face he’d vanished for almost two weeks without a word. No apology. No explanation. Just… work matters.

Strangely, it was almost relieving. You slowed slightly as he stopped in front of you, shifting to block your path. You lifted your eyes, just enough to see him in frame. His smile curled upwards.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I went?” He voices lace with amusement. He dipped down just enough to hover near eye level, as the grin on his face pulled slightly to one side, far too pleased with himself. He leaned in slowly, his breath brushing your cheek just close enough that you could feel the heat of him. The grin designed to provoke you. His hazel eyes locked on to yours, warm and daring with a spark that felt like he was already enjoying the reaction you haven’t even given him yet.

Typical. He wanted a reaction.

“Where did you go?” You asked, making sure your voice carefully felt flat, masking all those curiosities tangled beneath the surface.

He straightened, slipping back into his usual posture,
“Just on work matters. Had something to do back in France.” He said, satisfaction flickering behind his eyes.
You exhaled, tension easing from your shoulders. It made sense. You took a step sideways to walk past him– only for him to shift again, effortlessly blocking your path.
You narrow your eyes.
“Is there a reason you are blocking me? Thought we had work matters to attend.” His grin deepened, infuriatingly amused.
“Surely chérie At least some sort of reaction.” His voice was smooth. He held you at a choke point. Knew exactly that his absences stirred in you. He already knew you had some feeling about his disappearance, no matter what that feeling was. Whether it was your hatred for his disappearance, curiosity or concern, he knew you had at least something about it.

Like a cat circling a trapped bird. Poking at the edges, expecting me to take the bite. Your eyes remained locked with his, sparkling with mischief. The thrill of knowing he was getting at you. He knew exactly what he was doing… and he was enjoying every bit of it. You sighed again, but this time with less frustration and more surrender.

“Yes, I was concerned about your disappearance.” You said, trying to sound measured even though every word was brushing dangerously close to something softer. “No one knew where you went. Would have been inconvenient if my partner just dropped dead after one mission. I would have liked to be informed that you left the base before I searched for you to discuss combat strategy.” Was that a good enough excuse? You hoped so. You weren’t ready to peer into a space you have been avoiding.

Without a word, his hand reached out and ruffled your hair.
“I’m sorry darling.” He murmured. “I’ll inform you next time, okay?” And just like that, he turned and resumed walking, his coat swaying with each step. You fell into pace beside him, heart still slightly thudding in your chest.

Back to business.

“Back on to the secondary matter at hand.” He said whimsically, “Unfortunately Cypher will have to continue hacking away at the phone. We got wind that there is an organisation of assassins interfering with the protocol. Our goal is to thin their numbers, get them off our trails.” You shook your head in disbelief.
“I assume we have set up some sort of trap for them? Or at least have any tips or leads for where they could be?” He flashes you with that infuriatingly proud grin.
“As expected from my partner. Yes we leaked information that the head of the protocol will be in Saint Étienne for an ‘important meeting’ with the other heads of the protocol.” You scoffed.

“They will know it is a trap.” You added. Chamber nodded in agreement.
“Yes, they should. But they are desperate for intel. This might be the only thread they can get. They will have to bite.” Chamber replied, “The leak went out today. We will be arriving first before they decrypt the message.”
“Do we have any intel on the organisation?” You asked.

“No. We are walking in blindly.” You smiled and stretched your arms out into the air.
“So we are expected to pick a fight with a faceless organisation that we have no idea what they look like? Lucky them. They get an advantage since I will die in the chilly air.” Chamber let out a short amused huff, a sound passed for a laugh.
“The meeting’s set two weeks from now in an abandoned building, thirty kilometres north of the base. We leave in two hours. Pack your things. Meet me at the helipad.”
“Yes sir.” You gave a mock salute.

He didn’t look back, but you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Just enough to say he noticed.

And just like that– he was back. But something inside you tugged uneasily. Because for all his teasing, and all your practiced calm… Part of you still wasn't sure whether you were relieved– or more unsettled than never.

~~
The vulture aircraft landed with a heavy thud on the rooftop helipad, its engines whining into silence. The Door slid open, slamming wide as the wind howled. You stepped out first, immediately regretting it.

The cold was biting. It chewed at your exposed skin, slicing through the layers of clothing like paper. You pulled your coat tighter around you.

Behind you, Chamber emerged claiming, inhaling deeply like the frozen air was the finest perfume he’d ever worn. His mocha-brown trench coat swept behind him. You glared at him from beneath your scarf.

“I hate you.”

He smiled, that insufferably charming smile. “I haven't even done anything yet, chérie.” You didn’t dignify it with a reply. The wind howled as your response.

Saint Étienne stretched out beneath you like a velvet dream. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking. The city unfolded like a dream hushed in velvet. City cloaking in the night sky, the rooftop glazing with frost and faint moonlight. The snow hadn’t fallen hard, just enough to soften the city views. The rooftops glistened faintly in the dim glows of streetlamps. The amber halos bleeding softly through the ambient cold.

“What do you think, Aurora?” Chamber slowly stood beside you. His voice, lower now. Time felt almost still, as your eyes could hardly focus on anything else. You wish time stopped. If it could just stop now. You would have.
“Saint Étienne is truly beautiful.” You replied softly,
“My home city is as such.” Your eyes drifted to his solemn expression.

So this was his home city? You stared back at the view.
“You have a very pretty home.” You murmured, softer than before. He quickly turned around and carried his luggage towards the door.
“Come, let us get ready for the mission.”

~~

The apartment you were staying at was completely flourished and sleeked, unnervingly so. Floor to ceiling windows spanned the wall, framing the cities like a living painting. The walls were smooth, cool and minimally embellished with curated pieces. The kitchen blurred seamlessly with the living area, polished to a mirror sheen. You headed towards the room you would be staying at, your own personal ensuite. A queen sized bed, set neatly up just for you, with a vase with a beautiful array of baby blue flowers. You quietly settled your luggage in the corner of the room, opening it up to set your daggers on the bedside table alongside a book Killjoy happily recommended to you. A knock came from your door, your eyes turned to face Chambers.

“Isn’t that a safety hazard.” Chamber asked.
You shrugged. “Have to be prepared at all times, no?”
He smirked, but didn’t press it.
“I’ll be going out for a bit. You stay here and make yourself home.” You nodded,
“Alright. Just come in if you ever need me alright? No need to knock–” The door slammed shut before you could even finish. You rolled your eyes.

Typical.

You rustled through your luggage, neatly folding warm and practical clothes in the wardrobe. You didn’t bring much, essentials for the mission. You lowered yourself onto the carpet, fingers idly tracing the textured fibres. The room was warm compared to the cold breeze. Your thoughts drifted, will you even get the chance to enjoy the food here? The culture? You were technically on a mission. But surely you wouldn’t be working 24/7 finding clues and tracks for these people nor would you be scouting the location to make sure everything is working right?

A soft knock interrupted your thoughts. Chamber must have come back. What perfect timing.
“Just come in. Told you, no need to knock. Though… I guess it is nice of you to knock in case I change in the room…” You slowly mumbled. “Which reminds me, I have a question to ask you.”

The door creaked open. No response.

How unlike him you thought. You turned slowly, half-rising up from the soft carpet beneath you expecting to be greeted with that amused smile. Suddenly, your throat felt tight. Pain bloomed like fire. Your breath hitched, body seized. Two gloved hands, pitch black, cold and strong clamping at your neck, squeezing tight. You gasped, lungs clawing for air as your fingers scrambled to pry their hands off. The grip only tightened. You were lifted and slammed against the floor with brutal force. Panic blurred your vision as realisation struck like ice.

This wasn’t Chamber.

Chapter Text

Your time was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

Each second stretched into eternity as your lungs convulsed. Air. You needed air. But all that came was the crushing pressure against your throat, a vice tightening grip with intent to kill. Stars flared at the edges of your vision, your head light like it might float while your vision crumbled. Your fingers clawed weakly at the hands locked around your throat instinctively.

Eyes were wide and panicked, darting across the room for a desperate search. Then you saw it, the hardcover book resting by your side. You mustered all your strength and seized the hardcover book around the spine. And with a desperate cry, you swung it with all your weight, slamming it into the attacker’s temple. He groaned, his grip loosening just every so slightly. Just enough. Now was your chance. You twisted violently and kicked him off, crashing into the wall. Each breath burnt like acid. You coughed and stumbled up on your feet.

What the fuck is happening?

Your mind raced through information. They shouldn’t be here yet, nor should they know you were here. Are they more prepared than we thought? This couldn’t be a coincidence.

You stumbled to the beside, your fingers closing around the cold hilt of one of your daggers. You tucked it into your waistband. You knew you had to prepare for the unexpected. But this was too far of a stretch even for you to have known. Not like this and not alone.

But regardless of this unexpected invitation. They just made your mission easier.

You bolted forward. No hesitation, dagger drawn as you lunged at the man as he recovered. Aimed straight for the soft flesh of his throat. He reacted fast, parrying your strike with his own. He counterattacked, wild and untrained. A rookie mistake.

You twisted your arm to catch him and turned your body. Momentum was yours. The dagger sank into his abdomen with a wet crunch. His eyes widened, breath catching, you shoved him backward, flipping him to the ground, your knee on his back. One arm wrenched behind him and the other pinned under your palm against the floor.

“I think that is enough of that.” You said with a breathless mocking grin. You yanked off his mask, revealing a pale yet terrified face smeared with sweat and grime.

“Who do you work for?”

Silence. Just defiance in his eyes. You drove your dagger through his hand. He howled, the sound raw and blood soaked. The blood gushed freely, soaking into the carpet in dark, pulsing streams.

“So you can talk. Shall we try again then?” You tilted your head with a twisted smile, your face inches from his. He broke, tears spilled down his cheeks as he whispered incomprehensible gibberish. You sighed and slit his throat. The blade glided through, he gurgled once, then went still.

You stood slowly, chest rising and falling after the aftermath as blood stained your hands. You felt a presence behind you and looked over your shoulder.
“Took you long enough to get here, Chamber.” He dreamed in the doorway, arms crossed casually.
“Sorry Ma chérie, had my own guest to entertain outside.” He stepped forward as you turned to face him fully.

“Did you learn anything?” You asked.
He shook his head. You turned back to the corpse.
“Something about this feels… off.” You crouched beside the corpse, peeling the gloves from his hands. “He was an amaetur. No real training. Left himself wide open and they only sent one to me? Why? They knew we came and… this is all there is?” You frowned, prying open the dead man’s mouth. No tongue.

Your stomach sank.
“He couldn’t talk,” you muttered. “He was trying to. That gibberish, it was desperation. He was set up for this. Chamber we-”
You barely got the words out before a jagged, burning pain tore through your lower back. You stiffened, a choked gasp escaping your lips. You turned, Chamber’s face twisted into something unnatural. A cruel smile. That wasn’t his.

His skin rippled, dissolved into digital fragments, revealing another hooded figure. An imposter.
“You’re clever” The imposter said, “But you figured it out a little too late.”

You laughed softly, grimacing as you bit down the pain. “You must also be a rookie. You should have killed me instead.”
He shrugged. “Bosses' orders.”
Your body hit the floor hard as he shoved down. His boot crushed into your spine, forcing a breath from you.

“So…” You bit back a hacking cough, “How’d you built that suit? Genius stuff.” He leaned down, pressing a foot to the danger still embedded in your side.
“Radiant infused polymers. Let us blend into the world. But that isn’t what matters right now.” He replied coolly and then pressed. The blade drove deeper. You screamed. A sound of pure primal agony. Your vision was turning white. Then dim. You were slipping.

A shot was heard from behind. Loud and close. A thickening thud beside you. You cracked your eyes open. Your world was spinning. A body collapsed beside you, a perfect hole drilled through his skull. You focused your gaze, a figure stood above you. His presence steadied the room. Your blurry vision sharpened just enough to take him in: his vest clung to him in soaked patches, torn at the shoulders and slashed across the ribs. Fresh blood stained on one sleeve. Relief hits you like a wave, tempered by pain.

“That took you too long.” You softly muttered. He stepped forward, boots sinking quietly into the blood-slicked carpet. His gun clicked softly as he lowered it beside you. He crouched beside you, the sharp angles of his face remain unphased but his eyes, filled with relief gave him away. All buried beneath a veneer of cool control.

“You better not be a fake.” You murmured.
“A fake huh?” He repeated, arching a brow with theatrical offense. “You fell for a fake? I’m wounded, chérie.” He gently turned your body, finger brushing the blood slick fabric clinging to your side. With a swift movement, he scooped you into his arms, one beneath your back, the other under your knees, making sure to not touch the dagger embedded in you. The movement makes your body jolt. Pain erupted from the wound like fire. You gritted your teeth, a pained hiss escaping your mouth.

“Where the fuck were you.” You growled.
“Outside,” He replied, slowly but carefully adjusting his grip around you. “Ambushed by those people. Didn’t think you would struggle with two of them.”
Your glare sharpened. “He turned out to look exactly like you. How was I meant to know?”
“I’m not blaming you.” he replied, “The disguise was good. Almost fooled me too. They looked like you.”

You looked up at him,
“How’d you know it wasn’t me?” His eyes flicked down to meet yours, a smirk tugged faintly at the corner of his lips.
“You don’t treat me with that much respect.”

Despite everything, a breath of laughter escaped from you. He carried you out of the room, stepping over two bodies now decorating the apartment floor. His eyes flicking down both ends of the corridors. Every step measured and precise, like you were something important to him in his arms.

“You’re losing a lot of blood,” He murmured.
“Good observation.” You replied, your words drenched in dry sarcasm.

A quiet laugh slipped him. He eased you face down on the couch. Your vision felt hazy as he moved away, rummaging through the aid box. He returned quickly, dropping to one knee. You felt his eyes scan your back. His glove hands hovered before making contact.

“Good thing it didn’t get driven too deep.” He said, cutting your shirt away. “Didn’t hit anything vital.”
“He did it slowly.” You gritted out, “He wanted me unconscious. He wanted me alive.”

He paused. You couldn’t see his face, but you felt the shift in the air. His breath hitching. Hesitation.
“Just pull it out.” You said, voice cracking from the pain and urgency, “Stitch me up. If it only breached the subcutaneous tissue. It will be fine. I am a radiant. I’ll heal faster.”

He was quiet, hands hovering over the handle of the blade.

“This will hurt more than just a few stitches.”
“I know,” You said, “But we don’t have time. We need to leave before the backup storms this place.”

He nodded once, grim and reluctant. Then, without another word, he stuffed a rolled up cloth between your teeth. No warning, as the dagger was pulled out in one swift pull. Agony screamed through your body. Guttural cry tore from your throat, muffled into the cloth. Tears stung the corner of your eyes. He moved fast, too fast to be doing this a couple of times. His fingers worked like clockwork, methodical and efficient.

Before you knew it, it was over. The pain dulled to a throbbing ache, still fierce but no longer blinding your abilities. You slumped upwards, breath ragged, and spat the cloth from your spit. He threw you his mocha cloak and put on one of his own. The fabric smelled faintly of him, floral.

He disappeared into the next room and returned with your daggers sheathed, and handed you them without another word. He also grabbed your luggage, perhaps filled it with necessities.
He took your arm, gently and helped you to your feet. Your knees buckled, he steadied you.
“We need to go. Let’s find a new place.”

~~
You luckily were able to slip out of the building. Your own abilities came in quite handy. Your power, flickering and unstable but enough to barely hold the barrier long enough for you and Chamber to vanish into an alleyway a few blocks away. The moment it dissolved, you staggered against the brick wall, your breath cold but alive. Chamber caught you just in time, guiding you down to the snowy ground.

“I overused my power.” You gasped out. You reached into what’s left of your torn up clothes underneath the coat and pulled out an injection. “Stab it into my left thigh.”

He didn’t hesitate. Your eyes closed briefly, your teeth gritted. Slowly your lungs began to work again. Breath returned in shallow but manageable bursts.

“Our best shot is to find a hotel. An inn, anything.” Chamber’s voice broke through the cold. Steel and steady despite the chaoticness you had just fled. You silently nod, pushing yourself upright with trembling limbs. The cold was sharp and unforgiving. Your body felt heavy, almost like something was pulling you back to the ground. Side by side, you wandered around the streets aimlessly, somewhere far enough away from the apartment. Chamber would glance your way, it was as if he was measuring how much you could walk without collapsing. You finally tucked to a quieter area, a modest hotel glowed in the snowy dark.

Chamber opened the door, you followed behind him, biting back every groan with each movement. Inside the lobby was quiet and warm. Stone floors gleamed under the soft light. A young woman at the front desk greeted you with a warm smile. You returned it as best you could, grateful your cloak hid the truth. You wondered if her expression would change if she saw what you really looked like.

Chamber booked the room under an alias. He spoke in soft French, his voice low, velvety and composed. You watched him, the way his lips moved, the way his eyes glowed, always charming and always in control. He was handed over a keycard.
“Have a good stay.”

He turned around, caught your gaze.

“Try not to fall for me.” He teased softly as you stepped into the elevator together. You scoffed, too tired to play along but not tired enough to ignore the spark between you.
“I won’t ever. Don’t worry.” But even that sounded less certain than you wished it had.

The elevator ride was silent. You leaned against the mirrored wall, catching your own reflection. Pale and tired, your expression defeated with pain. Your fingernails soaked with stained blood and your eyes hollow. Chamber said nothing, but you knew he was looking too.

Room 108.

Chamber scanned the keycard, and the door opened up. He let you in first, a hand hovered behind your back, close enough to catch you again if you stumbled.

You stepped inside and stared.

The room wasn’t luxurious but it was clean. Elegant. The room felt welcoming. Cream walls and dark wood furnishing. Tall windows framed by velvet red curtains. A low but plush couch sat beside a coffee table. On the far wall, a king bed neatly folded at the foot.

Chamber shut the curtains and tossed his coat over the arm of the couch.
“The snow is getting harsher. Must be our lucky day. Will cover up the tracks.” He murmured. “We’ll have to share the bed too.”

You didn’t reply. Every step you took felt like dragging heavy weights. The pain radiating through your thighs. You moved deeper into the room, your stained fingertips grazing the wall for balance. Your legs screamed with every step, your thigh aching sharply like glass had splintered under your skin.

“You should rest.” He said. His voice was lower, even gentler, “You’re shaking.”

You looked up from the ground and offered a grin that looked more like a grimace. Within seconds, your legs gave up on you. He caught you again, arms firm but gentle around you.
“Let me clean your wounds.” He said.

You nodded, your breath becoming shallower by the second. He guided you to the bathroom, hands steady, like you were something delicate.

You sat at the edge of the porcelain tub, your back throbbed with every breath.
He leaned down, slowly removing the trench coat now stained with blood.
“The gauze is still intact, that’s good.” He turned on the tap. The sound of rushing water echoed in the room. He soaked a small towel in warmth and dabbed around the edges of the gauze with tenderness. His fingertips brushed over old scars. You flinched slightly with every graze, not from any pain, but from the instinct to hide. He didn’t ask thankfully. You didn't even have answers.

He rose to his feet and left, only to return moments later with clothes that you had brought.
“I grabbed what I could from your room.”

You looked over your shoulder, his face just close enough to feel his breath near your temple. You reached out, fingers brushing his as you took the bundle. A long sleeved white shirt. Soft and worn. Loose black pants. Comfortable to sleep in.

He turned his back, lingered by the door while you changed.

When you were done, you gave him a signal. He came back to your side. His hold on you as he helped you up too careful to not be out of duty. Neither of you spoke and yet something was in the air.

You moved stiffly to the bed, sinking into the mattress with a soft sigh. He sat next to you at the foot of the bed, staring longingly at you.
“How did they know we would be here?” You whispered.
“I’m not sure.” He replied, his voice, quiet. “But it wasn’t a coincidence. They knew us.” Your eyes drifted up towards the ceiling, the light overhead glowed soft amber.

“Maybe we are one of their targets.” You murmured

“Maybe.”

There was a long pause between you too. Not that you were phased by it. The tiredness was at the forefront of your mind before anything else.

Then, slowly, Chamber stood. Your eyes focussed back on him. You watched as he undid his vest. Then his tie and unbutton his white shirt, stained and worn. You merely stared, his back exposed toned and built. His nanotech implant, intricate like a circuit board crawling across his shoulders, down to his arms. But beneath that beauty were scars. Some were angry red. But what caught your eye are the faded white ones. Pale but subtle. Perhaps he has his own story to tell. Maybe a long one at that. He looked over his shoulder.

“You like what you are seeing?” A smirk bloomed. You rolled your eyes, sitting up slowly as your back now rested against the headboard.
“Let me stitch those up for you.”
“You know how to suture?” He asked.
“Sage made us learn the basics.” You replied softly.
He pulled the suture kit from the bag and passed it back to you.

You worked in silence, cleaning and stitching. Your hands moved steadily, cold fingers grazing his skin. You began cleaning the areas, slowly but surely stitching him up. You weren’t a professional like him, but far from being a beginner. His posture remained tense. Still but tense. Your hands brushed against the faded scars, lingering their longer then you should.

“What is the plan now Chamber?” You asked. “Are we still continuing with our mission?”

He didn’t turn to look at you, only nodded.
“I’ll contact Brimstone tonight. See what his call is. I’ll inform him that they may already have some intel on us. We'll wait for now.” You nodded in silence.

You wrapped the bandage slowly around his torso, moving around to his front. Your hands grazed solid muscles. Fitted for this line of work. He dressed quickly afterward, soft grey shirt, loose mocha pants.

You settled back down in the bed, your eyes no longer able to stay open. Sleep was closer than danger. Finally. Chamber looked at you softly, brushing his cold hands against your cheek.

“They won’t find us for tonight. You can rest.” His voice was soft, a calming effect laid on you. You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. Something unspoken was living in that silence between you two. Maybe he felt it too.

Chapter Text

Life is neither fixed nor absolute. Everything is a possibility, never a certainty.
Life was the sheer being of it all.
The warmth of touch,
The comfort of an embrace
The aching of goodbyes.

A view of humanity seen through the fragile lens of our own existence.
Life can be sad, life can be death. It can be the pain, the splinters of grief driven deep into your soul.
But life may also be joy.
It is warmth even in the cold.
The small smiles caught at every opportunity.
It was the choice to live, not merely survive
And who better to experience them all, then yourself.

Your shoes crunched softly against the weather worn path, the sound swallowed slightly by the brittle leaves scattered across the concrete. muffled by the fallen leaves beneath every step. Trees arched high above, the branches tangled, filtering the sunlight into golden shards along the path. A breeze, clean and sharp brushed across your skin. You slowed your steps to a stop, letting the cold wind settle across brush cheeks. Eyes closed, your other senses sharpened. The chirping of birds in gentle harmony, the wind weaving layers of melody around you.

You were going to miss this.

“Hey!”
The sudden voice cracked through the calm. Without even looking, a smile bloomed across your face. It was instinctual. You turned. He was jogging up to you, his cheeks flush red from the cold and that typical glow of enthusiasm spread across his smile. He caught your hand in both of his. His hands were warm.

“Hi.” You said quieter.
“How are you not freezing?” he asked, eyes scanning your very underdressed outfit.
You shrugged, grinning faintly. “Can’t be bothered. I’ll have to take it off anyway when we get there. Might as well get used to the cold.”
He laughed, soft and breathy.
“You seem excited,” You noted. He was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, unable to contain the energy he had in store for the days to come. “Or cold.” You added.
“I am very excited. I can’t wait to start this new project. Working with Doctor-” Before he could finish, you clamped over his mouth. His words instantly muffled into complete gibberish. You glanced sharply around, making sure no one was listening to you.

“You idiot!” You yelled quieter, leaning closer. “We can’t talk about that here in public.” You slowly lowered your hand,
“I know, I know!” he whispered, still grinning excitedly, “I am just so excited. You can’t tell me you’re not.”
You let your silence be your answer.

He grinned cheekily. He handed you a beautiful white flower, bloomed perfectly this winter.
“It’s a camellia.” He said. You twisted the stem in between your fingers. He always had a knack for flowers. Every flower known to Earth, he knew what they were. He knew what they symbolise. It was quite a nerdy yet adorable fact about him.
“What is the symbolism for this flower?” You asked with a smile.
“That’s a secret. But I can tell you it symbolises you.”
“A coffee addict and a degenerate nerd who has the most odd yet interesting hobbies?” The corner of your lips rose as you glanced your eyes towards his. He lightly slapped you on your back and laughed.
“No silly!” He regained his composure. “I’ll tell you soon, okay? We have to get there.”
You nodded your head.
“We are going to change lives forever.”

Your eyes slowly opened, the cool blue of early dawn slipping through the curtains. You didn’t remember falling asleep— only the moments of warmth and the dull ache finally quieted to a throb. Your body was heavy, but warm, blankets tucked snugly around you. Your muscles are still sore but the pain has softened. Aching, but quiet. You shifted slightly. Your hand brushed against unexpected warmth. Your eyes fly fully open, alert but steady. You turned slowly. Chamber lay facing you, eyes still closed. His face, only a few inches away from yours. His breath ghosted softly against your skin. His chest rose and fell peacefully. His expression relaxed. No smiles and no sternness. Just calm, peaceful and unguarded.

He must have climbed into bed after you fell asleep. His hand rested loosely between you both, just shy of touching your own cold fingers. You lay quietly still, watching him for moments. Strands of light, soft brown hair spilled over his face You’ve never seen it tousled before. It suits him unexpectedly well. Your breath barely made a sound. You have never seen him like this. Not this calm. Not this human.

It was a rare sight to catch him so unguarded, though not entirely surprising. You’d see his expression soften on some occasions, no matter how hard he tried to mask it. And, unsurprisingly, you prefer him just the way he is. Regardless of the possible lies, regardless of how untrustworthy everyone insists he must be. You had to admit to yourself, he is quite enjoyable to be around.
You brushed your fingers gently against his flushed cheeks. His skin was smooth as silk, radiating a gentle warmth. Your touch drifted upwards to his hair, stroking it softly between your fingers. It is silky, almost impossibly fine, with a faint scent of lavender. You reach out your other hand to cup his face once more. His brows furrow briefly before relaxing completely. You smiled. He is rather cute like this. But now wasn’t the time for such things.

You shifted carefully, inch by inch, wiggling out of bed in an attempt to not wake the sleeping prince. You tiptoed towards the bathroom and closed the door softly behind you. Peeling off your shirt, you paused to stare at the reflection in the amber light. Your wounds were healing, faint scabs and fading bruises evidence of hard-earned recovery. Relief settles in your chest. The mission was still possible to finish.

You turned on the shower, watching the water cascade over your fingertips until it warms to a soothing temperature. Steam curled around you, easing the tension coiled in your muscles. You inhaled the humid air, feeling your raw throat soothe with each breath. Your fingers rake through your tangled hair before brushing over your neck.
You froze. Your fingertips brushed the gaping, forever stained scar carved across your jugular.
You had never liked thinking about it. You had never liked thinking about any of the scars that marked you prior to your present consciousness. All it did was leave you hollow, defeated, unable to remember what could have caused such things.

And yet despite your urge to dismiss them, an uncomfortable heaviness twists in your chest. What was your life before this? A trail of crime and blood-red massacres? A fugitive’s life on the run? Or something even worse– a life you chose to forget, one you swore you would never look back on? Your heart cried out for comfort, for resolution, but there is nothing an empty soul can provide. You only hope that one day it can be soothed.
You pressed the plush towel into your soaked hair, squeezing until the strands went from dripping to damp as beads of water trickled down the curve of your spine. The heat from the shower clung to your skin like a second layer, curling steam wafting around you. Your gaze flicked to the rack beside the sink.

Oh shit. You forgot to bring the clothes. You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead. This wasn’t like you at all. Maybe your senses were dulling. You wrapped the towel securely around you, fabric staining to cover the swell of your breasts. A blush already warms your cheeks at the thought of stepping outside like this. Leaning against the door, you take a deep breath and eased it open.

Your eyes meet Chamber’s immediately. He sprawled on the couch, watching you with those distinguished amber-brown eyes that swept slowly, unashamedly, from your damp hair down to where the towel hugs your curves. His lips curled into a roguish smirk.
“If you want me that badly, ma chérie,” he drawled, each word coated in silken amusement, “You needn’t go to such dramatic lengths.” He tilted his head, eyes still tracing your form. “But at least let me take you on a date first before we-”

You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence. Your other arm tightened around your towel in sheer panic.
“Shut up,” you hissed, turning away so fast your cheeks nearly sparked. The breathlessness in your voice betrayed you, just like the warmth blooming down your neck. “Thought you were a gentleman that wouldn’t stare.” His laugh vibrated against your palm, low and warm. When you reluctantly pulled your hand away, he caught your wrist gently in his gloved fingers, holding it for a second longer than necessary before lifting both hands in a teasing show of surrender. “My sincerest apologies,” he said with a half-bow from the couch. His voice dropped, velvet and smooth. “It is simply hard to look away from such a beautiful sight. Even for a gentleman.”

You scoffed without real venom. You turned your back to him completely, trying not to let those feelings crawl up. To your surprise, the couch gave a soft creak as he shifted - and then silence. No comment. No lingering gaze. When you glanced over your shoulder, he had actually turned around, eyes respectfully cast away. You’d half expected him to be more of a shameless flirt then he is. You walked over to your bags, rummaging through until you found your clothes.

“Did I wake you up Chamber?” You asked quietly.
He paused. Just long enough for it to register– too long. A breath’s hesitation, but enough to spike your suspicion.
“Not at all darling.” He answered evenly, his voice calm and measured like always. But something about it felt too smooth, polished, like a mirror with something behind it. Your eyes searched his face, but as always, he wore his composure like a tailored suit. Immaculate, unreadable.

You shifted your weight, voice softening as you reached for your gear.
“So… what’s the plan now?”
“I’ve already contacted the others,” he said, as you yanked on the skin-tight combat layer and pulled a loose jumper over it. Cold fabric against still-warm skin. “Two agents will rendezvous with us shortly.”
“Who?” You asked, tugging on your black gloves with practiced force, your daggers slipping into their sheaths at your thighs with a quiet clink.

“Omen and Yoru. You’ll be with Omen.” He replied. The air between you stalled, weighted, liked a cord pulled taut. Your eyes drifted towards him. That damn smile. There was always something behind it, something unreadable and yet too tender to be empty. It twisted things inside you. Maybe it was the knowingness behind his expressions, the way his affection felt like a game of chess– two steps ahead, laced with secrets. Or maybe it was worse: maybe it felt safe. And that terrified you more than the mission ever could.

His gaze never faltered from your being, like he was analysing you? With a stillness too sharp to be casual.
“What is it?” You demanded, shattering the thick silence.
“You aren’t going to ask why you have been paired with Omen?” He asked softly.

You knew what that meant. He wasn’t asking about Omen. He was asking why you weren’t paired with him. So he wants to play.
You passed a bright smile. A sugar-coated lie he might just be able to see through.
“No. I get told to do what I need to do.” You replied, the false cheer sweetening your voice. “Omen and I didn’t get off on the best footing. But it’s good to get more experience with other agents. Hopefully improve my skills beyond what they are now.”

“Oh?” His smile grew wider, his eyes flared with something. Was it approval? Amusement?

He stepped closer, each footfall breaking the silence with a firm, deliberate sound. He stopped just in front of me. Close enough to steal your breath. You didn’t look up. Your eyes stayed at the base of his chest. His pale hands hovered just shy of your cheek. The heat of it ghosted across your soft skin, though he hadn't’ even touched you yet. You swallowed hard, forcing your smile to remain. You didn’t dare look up. Something in you resisted. His fingers slowly drifted to your chin. And then slowly, his fingers tilted your chin upwards. You didn’t fight it. You didn’t hesitate. No resistance. Your eyes locked with his.

“Didn’t take you to be the type to obey me like that darling.” Your eyes twitched barely. Enough for you to notice, hopefully not him.
“I’m your partner,” you said, voice calm but taut. “I would follow your lead Chamber. Just like you’d do for me.” You emphasised. His gaze deepened. Not sharp but rather soft. Dangerous. Like velvet over a blade. He studied you as though you were something rare. Fragile and fascinating. A reflection caught in pure glass.
“Mmm.” he hummed. His smile grew even wider. Clearly he only partially agreed.
Slowly, he stepped back, though his eyes never left yours. Letting you have a half-victory it seemed. An improvement.

“Let’s head out.” He said at last, his voice cool again. “Wouldn’t want this notice hotel to become a battle zone.”
You gave a short nod, moving to gather your things. Daggers. Scanner. Cloak. You barely had time to fasten the clasp when-

Three sharp knocks at the door. Both your heads snapped towards it, the atmosphere shifting instantly.
“Room service.” came the muffled voice.
Your eyes shot to Chamber. He eyes raised in question. You shook your head. No. Not you.
Without a word, you turned and cracked open the window. Cold wind blasted in, tugging at the curtains like claws. You turned to Chamber and grabbed his wrist, tugging him to your side.
“Stay close.” You whispered. Then, like a shimmer, your light pulsed. A glint. A flicker. A fold in reality. You pulled your radianite forward and round, weaving a geometric box of bent light, walls of shimmering glass that let you see out, but cloaked you in perfect invisibility. Light refracted against itself, mirrored and redirected, until you and Chamber vanished from sight.

The door creaked open. A generic waitress stepped inside, her face too neutral. Too blank. She scanned the room with practice detail, walking towards the window. The air grew colder, frost blooming across the glass in veins. She sighed and then-
A second voice. Male. Filtered through a comm. “They have left through the window. They are on the run. They couldn’t have gone too far. Watch for Chamber’s cameras.” Your breath caught. You turned slowly toward Chamber. That ever so charismatic smirk he wore like armour. Completely erased from his face. His eyes were narrowed, unreadable, glinting with focus beneath the light.
“Any new information on the girl?” the man asked.
A pause. “All right. Over.”

Quietly, the man walked out of the room. You flicked your fingers, the invisible wall completely disintegrating into fragments. Chamber exhaled, barely a sound and turned without a word.
“Seems like we are the one being hunted.” You quietly muttered out. Chamber didn’t look at you immediately. He stood in the hallway, framed by the cold light bleeding in from the outside. He turned, gaze steady, voice low and nodded,
“Yes.” he replied, “It seems so.”
He reached for the duffel bag with swift, economical motion. His eyes lingered onto you, calculating.
“How long can you hold up that illusionary cloak?” He asked.
“Four minutes. Maybe a little more.”
“Let’s get out of here then.”

~
You spilled back onto the crowded streets. Voices overlapped, shouts, laughter, the low hum of hovercrafts above. And yet, all you could feel was Chamber’s hand wrapped tightly arounds yours. He held on with a firmness that wasn’t quite forceful, but it left no room for doubt. Like he feared letting go almost like you would vanish into the crowded chaos.

Without a word, he pulled you aside and cut down a narrow alleyway, stepping into the shadows where the city’s roar faded into a hushed murmur. He came to a stop and turned to face you, eyes scanning your expression with a quiet urgency. Then, slowly, his arm slipped around your waist, guiding you close until your body met the warmth of his chest. You could hear his controlled breath beneath the fabric of his coat.

“So, where are we going?” You asked quietly. He leaned down, lowering his face until it hovered just an inch from yours.
“The others will meet us at a rendezvous point. From there, we head to the hidden base.” he murmured.
Your eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“How will we know for sure it’s them? I don’t need another situation where someone looks like them and ends up trying to kill me.” You asked, voice sharp with uneasiness.
“I know the code with them.” He replied with certainty. You nodded shortly.
“Alright, let’s go.”

The two of you moved in silence through the outskirts of the city, heading toward what looked like an industrial sector. Rusted storage sheds and corrugated warehouses stood shoulder to shoulder. Each one identical to the next. Perfect cover and confusion. Your pulse stays high, your senses sharp. Every corner you turned, you turned again, doubling back, checking shadows. The sensation of being watched clung to your like a second skin.
Eventually, your gaze locked on a large grey warehouse near the edge of the block, nestled among others just like it. You looked over your shoulder back at Chamber. He gave a single nod. This was it.

Quietly, you reached for the padlock and unlatched it. The metal doors groaned open, the sound echoing through the hollow interior like a warning bell. Dim light poured in, painting long simple shapes across the floor. From the far end of the shed, two hooded figures emerged from the shadows. No words, no weapons drawn, just the slow approach of unknown intent.

Chamber stepped forward. It echoed, sharp and deliberate through the warehouse stillness like a blade. The echo lingered, bouncing off steel beams and the catwalks. His stance was straight, every movement measured, deliberate.
“The timepiece ticks in the dark.” he said clearly, his voice echoing through the cold air.
“And the shadow keeps time.” One of the figures replied. The voice was low and flat, distorted slightly by the acoustics, but unmistakably familiar. Your gaze flicked to Chamber, his posture easing subtly, the slightest shift in his stance. A silent confirmation. The two figures reached for their hoods, pulling them back in unison. One revealed a smirk you’d recognise anywhere, cocky, irreverent and entirely too confident.

“You’re late.” Yoru replied.
Chamber chuckled lightly and gave a shallow bow. “Had to make sure they were off our tails. I’m so sorry, monsieur,” he replied, letting the title roll off his tongue with a smile.
Yoru rolled his eyes and stepped forward, boots scurrying against the warehouse floor “Don’t start with the charm. Just tell me you didn’t bring trouble to the front door Chamber.”
Chamber’s smile widened, “I would never.”

Omen drifted forward, silent at first, the low shimmer of his presence bringing a strange stillness with him. Then, his head tilted slightly towards you. “How are you holding up Aurora?” his voice hushed, “Heard you ran into some troubles.”
You nodded briefly, “Yeah. It was rough. Would love for you to teach me some things while waiting for the promise day.” There was a pause, brief and deep, as if he were studying something even you couldn’t see. Then he inclined his head once more.
“Of course Aurora,” he answered quietly.

"We ready to head out?" Chamber asked. You nodded confidently,
"Let's go."

Chapter Text

We all arrived at the hidden base by that same night. And, of course, what better hiding spot than yet another unassuming house tucked into a suburb.

You stepped up to the door and turned the handle slowly. It creaked open, stirring a thin layer of dust. The scent of stale air, old fabric and faint antiseptics greeted you.

It reminded you of the last safe house. Same layout, more or less. The living room held a slightly sunken, overstuffed couch– this one larger, its worn cushions promising actual comfort. Surgical kits lay scattered across the nearby kitchen table, a few unopened IV bags dangling from the makeshift hook on the wall. Blankets were draped haphazardly over the back of chairs, like ghosts of recent visit.

You wandered forward, your boots quiet on the scratched floorboards, and moved down a dimly lit hallway that stretched deeper into the house. The low lighting flickers slightly overhead, and as you reach the end, a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth.

It had an underground training space- combat, but well equipped. Large enough for all of you to move in.

You paused near the kitchen counter, your eyes flicked to the clutter spread across its surface. Unopened suturing kits, scalpels still resting in sterile trays, clean bandages. Your fingers brushed along the edge of the counter. Unlike the rest of the house, there was barely any dust here.

Someone had been here. Recently.

Your gaze drifted back to Chamber. He stood a few feet away, deep in conversation with the other two. His posture was casual, almost bored- but you could tell by the way his hand rested near his hip, twitching slightly against his belt buckle, that he was thinking harder than he let on.

Maybe this is where he went.

He had said he had business back here. Said it in a smooth, unbothered way he always did, like it didn’t matter. But those weren’t just surface wounds you saw on him earlier. Those weren’t just bruises. Those angry red scars had looked. Fresh. Jagged. You frowned, eyes narrowing slightly.

What in hell happened?

“Aurora.”

Your name was called. You dropped the thoughts for another time.
“Yes Chamber?” You replied, your voice steady.
“Cameras and trips have already been set up. They’ll notify me if anything unusual happens. It’s best to get some rest.”

“Sure thing.” You said. Then hesitated, glancing around. “But… There is only one bedroom.” You stared back at the group. They all turned to face each other.
“I’m not sharing with one of you three.” Yoru immediately spoke up.
“I don’t sleep.” Omen added.

That left you and Chamber in the silence that followed.
You sighed, “Aight then. You and I again, pretty boy.”

“Hold up.” Yoru cut in suddenly, pointing between the two of you. “What do you mean… again?”
You turned slowly and glared at him, “It’s not what you think.”
Yoru leaned into Chamber with a grin and nudged him, “You picked up a pretty one, huh? Not bad.”
Chamber smirked, that velvety smoothness coating his words, “I did.”
You rolled your eyes so hard you almost saw a void.
“Hope you’re okay, I sleep shirtless.” Chamber called out. You knew he was joking. With an exasperated groan, you grabbed your duffel bag and marched toward the bedroom. The door clicked shut behind you with a satisfying finality. You lightly tossed the bag into the corner and collapsed face first onto the bed. It welcomed you like clouds, soft, cool and far too comfortable after today.

And then, pain. Sharp, sudden sting at your lower back. You inhaled sharply through your teeth.

Damn it.

The stitches. One of them had torn. Maybe they’d loosened every time you moved today. Or maybe it was just the kind of day that didn’t let up.
“Shit.” you muttered under your breath. You needed them redone.

You were still lying face down on the bed when the door eased open behind you with a soft click.
“I said I wasn’t in the mood,” you muttered into the pillow.
“I’m not Yoru,” came Chamber’s low reply. “Though if you’d prefer him tending to your injuries. I’m sure he would be delighted.”
You snorted without humour, “If he walks in with a needle. I’m jumping out through the window.”

The mattress dipped slightly behind you. You didn’t need to look to know he was watching you too closely.
“Let me guess,” his tone softened, “The stitches came loose.” You pushed yourself up slightly, enough that your mouth wasn’t swallowed by the pillow. The movement pulled at your back, you grimaced.
“It can’t be that bad.”

“Like this and you’ll bleed through your suit.”
You paused and relaxed, your head falling back against the pillow. “Okay, it is a little bad.”
“I’ll do it.” he said without hesitation. Before you had time to say anything, he already started shrugging off his coat.
“That doesn’t bother you.” You muffled out through the pillow.
“Stitching someone up? Or seeing you bleed?” He replied smoothly with no bite in his voice. Just that calm, composed self he always had. “You let me handle it last time.”
“I had a knife jammed in my back,” you said dryly, “This is just some split stitches.”
“From that exact same knife I took out of you,” he replied.

You hesitated, then let out a slow breath. “Fine. Just at least pass me something to cover up.” You began taking off your body suit, exposing your back. He didn’t speak. Just stepped away and returned a moment later, draping a clean towel gently over your shoulders and upper back.

You felt the warmth of Chamber’s presence as he knelt beside the bed, gloved hands moving with efficient familiarity.
You flinched slightly at the antiseptic.
“Still burns, huh?” he murmured.
“Every time.” You mumbled out.

He worked quickly, a steadiness that surprised you the first time he did this. Each stitch was quick, deliberate and clean.
“Where did you learn how to do this?” you asked after a moment.
He paused only briefly before answering, “Mainly myself.”
You blinked, “Seriously?”
“Yes.” His voice was quieter now, focused, the sound of threat tightening between you. “Before… this. Some missions didn’t allow for luxuries.”

You shifted slightly, eyes narrowing as you tried to glance back at him. “That’s where those scars came from?”

A beat of silence. His hand didn’t stop moving, merely slowed.
“Yes.” he finally answered, “Some of them.”
You waited for him to carry on, but he didn’t offer anymore. Just stitched the last suture and placed a gauze over it. His breath was steady, the atmosphere tightening by degrees.
You wanted to ask more, what kind of missions, what would leave those marks. But something about the way he said it made you stop. Like there was a door in front of you and it looked unlocked… but never would be.

He rose to his feet and stepped away, peeling off his gloves and disposing of the tools with practiced ease.
“It’s done,” he simply said. “Call for me if you need me.”

“Wait.”

He froze, hand hovering just an inch from the handle.

“Let me…” You hesitated, biting your lip as if you were trying to stop yourself. “Let me check yours too.”
What are you saying?
“What?”

“Let me check yours too.” You responded this time more steadily, “The stitches I did last night.”
He looked at you for a moment too long. A flicker of emotion behind his eyes. His usual smile came back,
“You sure you’re not just looking for excuses to get me undressed?” he said, voice dipped in its silk.
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself."

He paused for a moment, his eyes analysing your intents. He stepped forward and shrugged. “Then I am in your hands, chérie.”
He sat at the edge of the bed, dropping his shirt onto the floor. You crawled up to him, laying the suture kit out onto the trays. You looked back up, his stitches were down. You sighed,
“You can tell me if they become undone you know.” You pressed your fingers against his warm skin. They were scarred, still healing.
“I’ll remember for next time.” He muttered out lowly.

One by one, you removed his torn sutures and cleanly placed new ones in silence. Each stitch felt instinctual. Too instinctual. Too natural. Your hands moved in ways you couldn’t comprehend. You couldn’t understand. When you first did it, you brushed it off, maybe a beginner’s first luck. But no… the way you remember how to do it efficiently. A specific technique that just felt… right. It wasn’t possible.

“Are you sure you are new to this?” Chamber asked. Your hands continued working through it,
“I…” You paused, “I don’t know.” You could tell Chamber’s eyes were on you, you never dared to look up to him. And he never dared to ask further on it.

You neatly placed a gauze on it, securing the edges tightly to his skin and took off your gloves. Your eyes guided around his back. There they were again, the angry red ones that still were yet to heal up. And the faded white lines across his back. You brushed your fingers against the faded scars. Even the ones that were barely visible even this close up. They were all over his body. His back, shoulders, sides, even his arms. You froze, hovering just above them.

What happened to you Chamber?

You drew your hand back. He caught your wrist. You looked up to his face, he stared at you with those mocha eyes, soft in a way you rarely saw. He guided your hand back to his skin. Not pulling you… just inviting.
You pressed your fingers against them, brushing them in all ways. Feeling them in the soles of your fingers. How rough they were against your skin. How deep they were.

He tensed. Froze. His breath hitching.

You wanted to ask more. About where they came from. About the things he has never talked about. But you couldn’t bring yourself to. Some part of you already knew deep down, he wouldn’t let you all the way in. Not yet… maybe not ever.
Still, you shifted forward, brushing his ribs, then his chest. Your other arm came around his shoulder, slowly brushing against the scars etched in his arms.

The door slammed open.
“I was able to find some food for you two.” Yoru announced, “Not many things are open tonight so you guys better be gratef-” He froze. You and Chamber both looked up. There was a pause. Yoru slowly backed out. Gave a small bow. The door clicked shut.

“THIS ISN’T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!!!!” You shouted out after him.

Chapter Text

You both had nothing to say.
It was if your words had been stolen by the silence, snatched away somewhere between the soft tension and the ruffled sheets. You dressed quietly in oversized clothes, facing opposite corners of the room.
Neither of you spoke.

What could you even say?

By the time you both stepped out into the kitchen, Yoru was already halfway through unpacking paper bags.
“Three convenience stores, one vending machine and a very confused gas station clerk later,” he declared. “I present to you... gourmet food.” He dropped a selection of instant noodles, protein bars and pre-packed rice bowls onto the table.

Chamber smiled mockingly, “Impressive work, chef.”
“I would like to see you do better at two in the morning.”

You reached for a cup of noodles, grateful for the offering and mumbled quietly. “Thanks.” Sliding into the chair across from Yoru, you let your body slump.

Yoru shot you a look, mischief blooming behind his eyes, “So… about the whole ‘this isn’t what it looks like’ thing.”

Your gaze sharpened. “Finish that sentence and I will stab you with these chopsticks through both your eyes.”
Yoru grinned, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “Hah. The room’s a little steamy, no?”

You picked up a plastic fork and lobbed it at his face.
He dodged, laughing, “Alright alright! I risk my life to bring you this food and this is how I am treated.”
Chamber leaned back in his chair with a faint smirk, “You’ll live, mon ami. Unlike the credibility of this meal.”
Your eyes relaxed, staring back down at your noodles. “It is seriously nothing. Yoru.” You voiced out low and quiet. “Nothing at all.”

Yoru stood up with a scoff, grabbing his food in one hand. “Whatever. You two enjoy your not-a-thing.” He headed toward the hallway to the training room, muttering under his breath, “Unbelievable…”

The door shut behind him loud, leaving a thick silence in his wake. You took a sip of your noodles, eyes casted down. The only sounds were the quiet hum of the fridge and the crickets clicking through the window. A strange kind of comfort nestled between you and Chamber, not quite relaxed, but no longer tense.
You didn’t look at Chamber, but you could feel his presence. The way his gaze lingered between bites. Not play, not smug. Just quiet and… thoughtful.
You couldn’t bring yourself to eat anymore. Your mind replayed last night. The scars linger in your mind like a phantom touch on your fingertips. How you traced the rough shapes, the warmth of his skin, the way his breath hitched when you leaned into him.
The tension, the closeness, the way your heart wouldn’t stop racing.

You pushed the bowl away.

You can’t do this.

“I’m going to sleep.” You said softly.
He looked up, eyes unreadable, “Of course.”
You turned to leave, then paused, your hand just resting on the door handle.
“Thank you,” you said without looking back. “For earlier.”
A moment passed before he responded, “Anytime.”

You opened the door and closed it tightly, firm, sharp and final. But it did nothing to shut out your thoughts.
You slid down the door, curling your arms over your knees and buried your head. Your face was flushed. Your stomach fluttered, soft, rapid and maddening. Something was wrong with you.
This wasn’t you.

Was it just embarrassment?
Or was it… him?

You dug your nails into your arms.
No.

“There is nothing going on.” You muttered to yourself. You wanted to believe it. You did. So why.
Why did your heart yearn?

~~
The morning came. Perhaps too early.
Or maybe it never really came at all.

The sky outside was a hazy, pre-dawn blue, a dull wash that painted the wooden walls in shadows.
You laid on your side, your eyes open watching the half-lights. The bed felt colder now, even emptier. You reached out instinctively, your hand feeling the ruffled sheets where Chamber had been.

Gone. At some point in the night, maybe he never actually slept.
You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes until the sleep-grit faded. The quiet was absolute. Even the air felt still. The world was not awake.
You slipped out of bed and headed down the hallway barefoot. The floorboards cool beneath your skin. To a place that felt familiar. Your heart was beating soft and slow.
You slipped into the underground training room, the cold hit first. A hush of air like breath over frost. It stung awake the parts of you that the night had dulled.
And there, in the center of the mat, was Omen. Still as stone. Legs folded, spine straight, cloak pooled around him like a mist. Meditating, or something along that line.

He didn’t turn to face you, but somehow, he knew it was you.
“Can’t sleep?”
You shook your head quietly, “Yeah, something like that.” Your voice was low, uncertain.
No need for a further explanation. Omen knew silence better than most did. He extended a hand toward you, fingers slightly curled. A quiet invitation.

No pressure.

Just a choice.

You took his hand and sat beside him.
“Where are the others?” You mumbled out.
“Chamber headed out. Something about getting some fresh air. Yoru went with him.”
You quietly nodded. “Fresh air huh.”
You needed some of that.

Omen stared at you in a quiet silence, his face never left yours. You wondered what he thought. Pity perhaps? Maybe it was curiosity. You weren’t sure. It was strange how someone with no visible face could see you.
“Would you like to start practising then?” He asked. You gave another quiet nod. Maybe it will get your mind out of your thoughts.
He helped you into a standing position and passed you a holographic blade. It was sleek, light and glowed faint blue at the edges.
“It’ll connect with objects,” he said, “But it won’t pierce. For practice.”
You turned it in your hand, feeling the balance, the ease of it. You nodded.

“Let’s start.”
You shrugged off the oversized jumper, the fabric sliding down your arms. Cool air kissed your skin as you stepped onto the mat, your stance loose, arms down at your sides.

Omen lunged first.
A wide, deliberate arc toward your midsection. You deflected with a quick twist, nearly stumbling at the sudden force. You swung your leg, he blocked with ease and countered, aiming a swipe at your throat. You backpedalled, shifting into a guarded stance.
But you weren’t really here.
Your mind was back there– last night.

To him.
To the soft breaths Chamber let out.
The steady warmth of his hand against yours.
The scars at your fingertips.
That pause at the door when you could have asked more. When you should have. When he could have stayed.

What were you to him?
What was he to you?
Were you supposed to ask?

Your focus fractured. Your heart drowning in confusion. Unable to understand what happened? Understand what was happening to itself.

In a blink, Omen swept your legs out from under you.
The world tilted. You tensed for the fall, the floor, the impact.
But it never came.

Omen caught you midair, one arm steady behind your back. Your breath hitched.
“You’re lost,” he said quietly.

You bit your bottom lip, frustrations rising from your chest.
“I know.”
He helped you find your balance again, setting you gently upright.
For a moment, you just stood there, arms loose to your side as your eyes dwindled at the floor.
Omen didn’t press. He never did.

“I used to think focus came from discipline," he said, his voice close, calm. “But it doesn’t.”
He paused. You could feel his gaze on you. Still, you didn’t move.
“It’s honesty. Being where you are right now,”

The words struck something in you. Your eyes widened. You looked up at him, your heart ached with something you couldn’t name. Like you’d been seen more clearly than you were ready for.
“Be honest with yourself.” he added, “Even if it hurts.”
You took a breath. Then another. Something steady in your chest.
Your eyes refocussed and nodded slowly.
“Even if it’s selfish?” You asked softly.
“Especially.”

A fragile breath slipped from you, and a small smile sad, but real curled at your lips.
“I may not know what you are going through.” Omen said. “But I know what it’s like to be lost.”
He placed a hand on your shoulder. It was grounding. Not heavy. Not fragile, just steady.
“Here with me, Aurora.” He said, “To every sensation. To the air you breathe. The ground beneath your feet, the pull in your fingertips. To the things you hear and the heart that beats inside you.
Stay here. In the present.”

His words settled over you like a mist.
You nodded, more sure this time. “Thank you Omen.”
“Shall we try again?” He asked.
You exhaled longingly, letting every air out of you.
“Again.”

You trained for a while, sparring in a quiet rhythm. The two of you moved in sync– silent, steady and sharp. There was a peace in the rhythm, in the discipline of each movement. Each strike, each parry, each dodge, was a moment tethering you to the present. No fear, no memories– just those sensations. Here and now.
Time passed unnoticed. Until the world began to stir, when the house above grew louder with voice and clatter, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.

“And here I thought I’d find you sulking in the kitchen chérie.” Chamber’s voice met you like smoke and sunlight.
You turned, breathless.
“You’re back.”
He looked the same, composed, clean and unreadable.
“Didn’t think you could go toe-to-toe with Omen again.” He replied with a smirk.
Omen, still recovering from the last sweep, gave Chamber a low grumble of disapproval.
“She is fast. You should be worried.”
“Oh, I am,” Chamber’s gaze found yours again and lingered. This time, there was no teasing. Just something you couldn’t name. Not yet.

You rolled your eyes and looked away quickly, more to seedy yourself than to dismiss them.
“Enough of your flirtatious chit-chat.” Yoru walked in behind him, leaning against Chamber, “New orders from the boss.”

You wiped the sweat from your brow, still catching your breath from training. Your mind finally, a little quieter than it was the night before.
Yoru’s tone turned serious. “We are going to be executing the plan tonight.”
You blinked, “Why?”

“The longer this drags out, the more dangerous it gets. They’re gathering intel fast. Brimstone’s pushing the timeline.”
Chamber nodded in agreement, “They seem to not know a single thing about you, chérie. Not yet. And they have no clue we’ve sent for reinforcements. Tonight gives us our best shot while their guard is still down.”

You glanced between them, your jaw tightened. “I assume we can’t prepare at the site since they will be monitoring it.”
“Correct,” Yoru said, “Which means the plan’s changed.” He exchanged a brief look with Chamber.
“You three will be on the site. I will be overwatch alone.”
You stepped forward instinctively, “That’s too dangerous Chamber. They will know where you will be.”

“But what they don’t know is that we have an agent who can make us invisible.”
You crossed your arms, “I can only hold that for a few minutes. That is not long enough”
“Chérie, At least let me finish my sentences.” His voice was calm, too calm. You paused, jaw clenched, eyes sharp, but you let him speak.

“What they don’t know is the nature of the meeting. If they see three agents arrive, then suddenly vanish, they'll assume something went wrong. They’ll panic. Most of their forces will then rush the site, thinking they have been compromised. That’s when we strike.”
“We hit them while they are confused, exposed.” Yoru added.

Your nostrils flare. You still heavily dislike this plan. But you didn’t voice it again. Not when they were your seniors. Not when they had more experiences.
Still, your gaze settled on the Chamber with quiet defiance. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like him putting himself at risk. But now was not the time for arguments. Only trust. That’s all there is now.

For a moment, Chamber’s eyes flicked to yours. He held your stare longer than he should have, just long enough for something to pass between you. Then they looked away.
“I think that’s it for the discussion.” He sought lightly, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. “I’ll go scout the best vantage point for myself.”
You moved without thinking, footsteps catching up to his side. “I’ll come.”

You weren’t going to let him go alone, not now.
He stopped, the smallest glimmer of something unreadable crossing his expression. He studied you a second longer, then the corner of his lips curved. “Alright, but we should probably get changed into something that doesn’t make us stand out. I bought new clothes for us.”
“You shopped?”
“Not exactly a spree,” he smirked. “But I have an eye for aesthetics.”

He led the way up the staircase and you followed in step, the air between you heavier than before. Once you reached the bedroom, he pushed the door closed behind you with a quiet click. The house beyond faded. It was just you and him now– again.

“Well?” He asked, turning halfway to you. “It feels like you want to say something to me.” Your eyes met his. The tension you’d been holding so tightly in your chest loosened, just a little. Your gaze softened as you looked away.
“I just… I don't like this plan.”

He didn’t respond right away. His gaze held steady, as if waiting for you to continue. But you never did.

He walked up to you, slow and measured, then lifted a hand to gently tilt your face toward his. His touch was light, careful. His usual smirk faded into something softer, almost sincere.
“Are you worried about me?”
You cradled his hand without thinking, thumb brushing the ridge of his knuckles, “It’s just dangerous. You would be exposing your position if you helped us from afar, then they will send people after you too.”
“Remember, our mission is to reduce their numbers. It will always be dangerous, chérie,” he murmured, “But have trust in me.”
The way he said it made your throat tighten. Not with arrogance. Not even confidence, but faith, the kind you didn’t think you had earned yet.

You exhaled hard, your voice dripping with dry sarcasm, “Just don’t die trying to look clever.”
He laughed low and quiet, “I’ll try my best.”
The space between you grew still. The air was heavy, not with tension, but with everything left unsaid. Questions neither of you were ready to ask and answers neither of you wanted to hear. Not yet.

~
Night had fallen. You stood in the narrow alleyway just a few blocks from the target site, swallowed by the city’s shadow. The chill settled in, but it wasn’t that cold that had you shifting from foot to foot. You tugged at the oversized hood draped clumsily over your head, frowning.
“This hood is massive. I look like a walking trash bag.” You pinched the fabric between your fingers, trying to fold it into something less ridiculous.
Chamber’s voice came through the earpiece, rich with amusement. “I don’t know your size. A tragic oversight on my part.”

You scoffed. “You call this a guess?”
“Maybe I was… optimistic.”
“More like delusional.”

His laugh was low and quiet,
“Perhaps we should remedy that. Dinner first? Then shopping? You in a changing room, me waiting patiently– no rush, of course.”
You rolled your eyes, but your lips betrayed you with a smile. “You expect me to believe you’d be patient?”
“I would savour every minute. Besides, who else will carry the bags?”
“Right. And who’s paying for all this?
“Evidmment. I am a gentleman.” You could hear the grin in his voice, “What kind of date would it be otherwise?

“Gentleman huh?” Yoru voice snuck in from behind, all smirk and bite. “Funny way of saying it.”
You turned to glare, “Do you have to sneak up like that?”
“Not sneaking. Just enjoying the performance,” he said, grinning. “For someone who pretends to hate his guts, you sure let him talk a lot of shit.”
You narrowed your eyes, “It’s called being polite.”
“Mmm.” Yoru clicked his tongue. “Kinda sounds like flirting to me.”
“I don’t– that’s not–”
“Aw, she’s flustered,” Yoru teased, leaning in just enough to be annoying. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You wanna get punched as well?”
Chamber’s laughter crackled through the comms again. “She’s feisty, Yoru. You’d best tread carefully.”
“Feisty, huh?” Yoru turned his grin toward your earpiece. "Look at you two. Practically a married couple.”
You raised your fist. “I swear Yoru I–”
Before you could fire back, Omen’s voice cut through the chatter. “Enough.”
His presence materialised at the back of the alley, shadows curling around him. Just his presence was enough to drain the mischief from the air. The silence that followed was a swift answer.

Still, Chamber’s voice slipped in one last time, quieter now– stripped of its usual polish, earnest beneath the smoke.
“Later, chérie. When we survive this.”
You didn’t say anything. But a breathless smile ghosted across your face, one you didn’t bother to hide.

“Aurora,” Omen said, steady. “Cloak us now. We are heading in.”
You nodded, centering your breath. The others stepped in closer, their shoulders brushing yours. With a steady hand, you summoned the light.

A shard of refraction bloomed in your palms, crystalline and pulsing like a prism held to the sun. You split it with your fingers, the fragment stretching and unfolding between your hands until it formed a flat, glowing panel. Then with a precise arc of your arm, the light swept up and over all three of you, folding around your forms, bending space, vanishing into air.
Just like that, invisible to the world.
Yoru gave a low whistle beside you. “Damn, not bad.”
He grinned, “Suits a woman like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean,” he drawled, “Dangerous, unpredictable and impossible to see coming. Should’ve known you’d weaponised subtlety.”
You scoffed. “Takes one to know one.”
Omen rumbled from your other side. “Focus, stay sharp.”
The three of you moved as gone– ghosts in the dark, silence at your backs and the mission ahead.

~~
You arrived at the rattled old shed, its rusted doors yawning wide like the mouth of something waiting. The night pressed in around you, still and breathless. No one lingered at ground level, but your skin prickled, there were eyes above. Hidden and watching.

Together, you stepped into the center of the shed, moonlight cutting a pale path across the cracked floor. Metal creaked somewhere overheard. Your boot scarped softly against the dust.
“Uncloak now.” Omen whispered, his voice low and formless. You nodded. With a flick of your fingers, you dissolved the prism, the illusion peeling off you like a second skin. Light shimmered, then vanished. The three of you stood in silence, exposed beneath the beam of moonlight. The bait.

The quiet was suffocating. Then a voice cracked in your– sharp and familiar.
“Ten, no, fifteen incoming. T-minus three minutes.” Chamber. Crisp and steady, even over comms.
Omen’s hood dipped in your direction. “That’s the cue.”

Omen teleported out of thin air to the other side of the catwalk, leaving all traces of shadows on the ground. You moved. Light formed again in your hands, trembling faintly. Your fingers were less steady this time. The second cloak took longer– less precise but it held. You and Yoru slipped away from the center, your footsteps soft against the concrete as you made for the catwalk. Already, the toll began to claw through you. Your chest tightened. The edges of your vision shimmers. You kept breathing, shallow and fast. Yoru crouched beside you, one hand anchored to your shoulder.
“You alright? Looking a little red there.” He whispered quietly.
Your focus slipped a moment, your vision bending just slightly. Sweat already traced down your temples.

“Yeah…” You breathed, “It just… takes a toll.”

Yoru gave a small nod, the seriousness in his gaze only thinly veiled by the grin tugging at his mouth, “Makes sense for a power this strong.”
He looked at you again, longer this time. “Don’t push yourself too hard, Ghost Girl.”
A smile spread across your face, “Ghost Girl?”
He grinned, “What? It fits. You’re spooky and hard to spot. I’m giving you free branding here.”
“Could’ve workshopped a bit more.”

Your banter faded when the first footstep landed just outside the shed. It was soft, deliberate.
Shadows stretched beneath the moonlight as a group of masked men filtered through the doors. Silent. Armed. Controlled. You didn’t need to look up to know others were gathering above on the rooftop, nestled in beams and rusted ledges like vultures.
The air shifted.
You glanced back at Omen on the far side of the shed. He stood perfectly still, watching. Then slowly, he nodded once.

That was the cue.
You dropped the prism. Light fractured as the cloak fell away. In the same instant, Omen raised his hand. A pulse of darkness bloomed in his palm before he hurled it into the center of the intruders– black fog bursting like ink across the air.

Chaos ignited.

The shroud landed in the middle of the group with a dull blast, everything fell into disarray. They all shouted over each other, their formation breaking as the void crept over them. Gun barrels whipped blindly.
You swiftly jumped onto the rails of the catwalk and formed a prismatic glow in your palms once again. It surged over your arms, refracting against your skin, and with a swift motion, you sent a sharpened burst of refracted light downward. A blinding pulse like a mirror catching the sun.
The men groaned, clutching their eyes.

“Now!” You barked out.

Yoru vanished from your side in a blur of blue static. Moments later, he emerged behind the enemy’s flank– blades drawn, slicing through the confusion. The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed beneath the gunfire. You leaped, driving your blade into one of their heads, completely cracking their skull in half. You jumped off their shoulders, pulling out your dagger and with it, a spray of crimson red pulsated out.
Your eyes glanced to the corner, someone aimed at you. You quickly pulled up the body and held it up against you, bullets flying into it. You quickly dropped the body and slit their throats, blood spraying out like spray paint.
Omen swept through the enemies one by one as bullets seamlessly phased through him like mist. Your heart is hammered. Your breath felt burnt. You could feel the seconds ticking by. Your vision began doubling.
“I’ve got three more circling the south wall,” Chamber voice crackled in your earpiece again. “Sniper above. Far end of the rafters.”
Your head snapped toward the beamline, spotting the glint of a scope barely visible in the dark. Your body moved fast, rushing towards Yoru.

You focussed, shaping another prism– this time curved wall of light between Yoru and the sniper. A shimmer snapped into place just as the bullet tore through the air, pinging harmlessly off your barrier instead of Yoru’s spine.
He looked up briefly, flashing a grin. “Nice catch, Ghost Girl.”
You quickly injected yourself with your depressants, not even feeling the pain it usually causes.
“Focus.” You panted.

Another wave of enemies burst through the back entrance. You heard the crunch of boots, the crackle of comms.
You swiftly created one more illusion, following behind it swiftly, flanking the reinforcements. You pushed forward, striking them from behind, a dagger to their back. One of them turned around and shot at you. You let go of your dagger, pulling out your pistol and shooting them each in the head one by one. Omen closed in from the other side, stabbing that one from the front.
And then– it was quiet. Just your own ragged breathing and the hum of power draining from your limbs. You staggered back a step, bracing your weight against the nearest wall. Your chest rose and fell in bursts, every inhale stinging like fire. Gunpowder, blood and smoke oozed throughout the shed. But it was over.

“Status?” Omen asked. You raised a tired arm and gave a loose wave, barely lifting your hand.
“Clear.” You managed to voice out, holstering your gun.
“Clear,” Yoru echoed, casually flicking his blade onto the side. The sound of fabric tearing as he wiped it clean on a fallen soldier’s vest.

And then… silence. It stretched unnaturally. Instincts flared in your chest. Your eyes opened wider, you pressed your finger against the earpiece.
“Chamber?” You called, trying to sound composed.

Nothing.

“Chamber do you copy?” You repeated with more dread.

Still no response.

Your blood turned cold. You didn’t wait. Your legs were already moving before you finished the thought. Sprinting across the shed floor, shoving past broken crates and scattered debris. You didn’t even register Yoru calling after you. Whether Chamber was or not, you weren't going to sit still. Not when the silence felt so wrong.

Finally, static was heard.
“I’m a little preoccupied at the moment!” Chamber’s voice cracked through, strained under the sound of nearby gunfire.

Relief hits you like a brick, just enough to fuel the next sprint.
“I’m headed your way,” you shot back, breath catching in your throat.
You emerged into the opening night, the cold biting at your sweat-soaked skin. Your eyes darted to the tallest abandoned building nearby you, his location. Gunfire lit the rooftop in sporadic flashes, dancing like lightning bugs in a storm.
You reached into your pocket and pulled your grappler. You locked your eyes on the rooftop edge. A narrow angle, but enough. One breath in and you fired.
The line shot out with a metallic snap, embedded in the edge of the concrete ledge. Your arm jolted as the tension caught, and then you were yanked upwards. The wind tore at your hood, your heartbeat thundering louder than the gunshots.
You soared upward into the night as you crested the ledge. The rooftop exploded into motion.

Chamber was locked in close quarters with three masked operatives, his coat torn, his movements sharp and brutal. You didn’t hesitate. In a blink, you drew your sidearm and fired– one cleaned shot into the torso of the nearest attacker, dropping instantly.
Chamber’s eyes flicked towards you, and even in the chaos, he found room for a smirk. With a twist of his body, he used the distraction to his advantage– planting a kick into one man’s chest and sending him sprawling. Before the body hit the ground, Chambers had already drawn a dagger from his coat and sent it flying, burying itself in the target’s neck with a sickening crunch.

The third lunged.
Chamber sidestepped, fast and fluid. In a blur, he caught the attacker’s arm, twisting it around and locking it against his own ribs. A shimmer of golden light sparkled in his free hand as his headhunter materialised– sleek and silent. One shot, point blank.
The man’s skull erupted in a violent spray, fragments bursting across the rooftop like grotesque fireworks. But there was still one left.

He charged you with a knife. The blade flashed. You pivoted, deflecting the strike with the edge of your gun. In a single motion, you shoved your dagger into his side. He gasped in pain. You kicked him back, his boots sliding against the gravel. You stepped forward, driving your blade clean into his throat.

He choked. Struggled.
Then stilled.
Silence fell over the rooftop like a curtain dropping after the finale.

Only your ragged breathing remained, your heartbeat thudding loud in your ears. You turned toward Chamber. His chest was rising and falling. Dust clung to his sleeves. Blood splattered along the curve of his jaw, a vivid streak across his otherwise composed face.

You let yourself sink to the ground, arms trembling as they held you up. Every limb buzzed with exhaustion. Chamber stepped over beside you, then sank down too– slower than usual.

With a staggered breath, he glanced at you and said, voice light despite the rasp.
“See? I told you I will make it out alive.”

Chapter Text

You huffed breathlessly, your lungs scraping for air. Each inhale was sharp and dry, burning at the edges of your ribs. Slowly, your heart began to settle. Its frantic rhythm ebbing into something heavy, sluggish even. The adrenaline had run its course, leaving only raw exhaustion in its wake. You’d overdone it. You knew you had.

Your head floated, weightless and hollow, as if paced with fog. Your limbs trembled from the cold, the strain. The rooftop was quiet now, the chaos finally stilled. You could feel the air settling too, biting against your sweat-drenched skin.

“Barely.” You murmured out. The words are more of a breath than a voice.
Your eyes shifted toward Chamber. He looked just as battered as you felt. His one pristine suit was a canvas of blood and dirt, abstract strokes all over. The sharp tailoring was torn at the seams, jagged along the coat hem. His shirt clung to him, soaked through in patches. His hair, usually immaculate, was a windblown mess. And yet somehow, he still carried himself with maddening calm, leaning back against the wall.
“You look like shit.” your voice, low and frayed at the edges.
“Mon dieu,” he exhaled, a tired grin tugging at his lips, “You always know just how to flatter me.”
Silence fell again. Not awkward. Just quiet. Earned. The kind of stillness that follows violence where the world dares not to move. The only sound was the distant wail of sirens bouncing between buildings. A soft wind stirred, brushing past your damp skin, lifting strands of hair from your cheeks.

You tilted your head up, letting your gaze direct skyward. The night was painted in deep blues and silvers. The moon hung heavy in the center of your vision, its pale light emitting between the buildings. And from that still sky, snow had just begun to fall. Slow, gentle, spirals, weightless flakes tumbling through the dark.

It was beautiful.

You reached up with a shaky hand, fingertips brushing one of the flakes as it landed. A hush settled in our chest, something slow and aching unfurling quietly inside you.

“Your home city is quite beautiful.” Your voice was almost a whisper, your eyes still on the sky.
He let out a slow breath, the sound curled like smoke in the cold, “You’ve already said that.”
“I can appreciate beauty more than once.”
That earned a low chuckle from him, “That you can.”

When you turned to look at him again, you realised just how close the two of you had drifted. Somehow, in this stillness, the space had shrunk. You had crossed a distance neither of you had meant to cross. Or maybe you had. You weren’t sure anymore.

There was a fragile line between you now. Tenuous. Unspoken. A thread pulled tight by exhaustion, by blood, by breath shared in the freezing air. You could see him clearly now. The way the city’s light was gold beneath his lashes. The faint tremble in his arms. The way his jaw clenched against pain he refused to show. His temple was bleeding, just slightly. A thin line of red against already drying skin.

And yet his gaze was steady. Warm. Soft and searching. Lit from below by flickering streetlights, and above by the halo of moonlight, he looked like something out of a memory you didn’t have– but desperately wished you did.

Your hand moved before you thought. Reaching up, you brushed a streak of blood from the sharp edge of his jaw. Your thumb lingered far too long, far too gentle. And in that touch, a warmth passed between you. Fleeting, but real. Real in a way that scares you.

“Are you hurt?” Your voice came out warmer than usual. Softer even. As if the wind might have carried the words away before he truly heard them. He didn’t answer at first. Just stared. His eyes dropped briefly to your hand still at his face. Then back up to yours.

“Only a little.”
Your gaze followed his gesture down to his side. Blood had soaked through the dark layers of his suit, turning the fine fabric a deep, wet red. A slow bleed.

“This is a little?” Your eyebrows raised. Your voice cracked, part disbelief, part exasperation.
Chamber shrugged, far too nonchalant “I’ve had worse times.”
You shook your head, not out of anger. Something else. Something harder to explain. And then you felt it. That awful blooming tug in your chest again. Familiar now. Unwelcome. A quiet ache curling behind your ribs. It was dull, and yet somehow alive. Like the first pulse of something you weren’t ready to name.

Your jaw clenched, biting down all the words in your head. You let your hand drop away, curling your fingers into a fist by your side. Anything to stop yourself from reaching again. To stop yourself from giving into something that didn’t make sense. That couldn’t make sense. Not now… Not here.

You bit down the words that were rising. Bit down the feelings clawing their way out. You didn’t need to look up to know Chamber was still watching you. His gaze had weight, warmth. Was he confused? Upset? Curious? All of it tugged at your heart in both directions. Trying to open it up to find all the answers. It shouldn’t have mattered. You didn’t let it matter. But it did.

Your mind drifted back to Omen’s words. Quiet. Vague. Laced with meanings you hadn’t wanted to unpack. Something about doors you hadn’t opened. Something about things you lock away when you’re not ready to face them.

Were you running?

Were you fighting with yourself?

Were you scared?

A part of you didn’t want to admit the existence, but you already knew the answer.

“Chérie?” Chamber said softly.

Just one word. One word. And yet it broke something in you. Your breath caught. It was stupid, really. And yet when he said it like that, in that voice, with that warmth… it pulled at something deep inside. At threads you were tired too tight. Knots you weren’t reading to undo. It wasn’t fair. The way he said it. The way it had softened you. The way it made you want things you didn’t have names for.

It wasn’t fair.

You turned your face away, eyes locking onto the ruined skyline. A cold mask slipped into its place. Not intentionally, but fittingly.
“Come on.” You said coldly, your eyes never landing on him. “Let’s head out before this makes headlines.”
Chamber rose beside you, slower than usual, a hand pressed against his ribs. You stepped toward him without thinking, slipping your arm under his to support him. He didn’t resist.
Together, you made your way to the fire escape. So many things were lingering in the air. The scent of blood, smoke and gunpowder lingering long since gone. And yet something else was lingering too. Unsaid but undeniable.

But neither of you dared named it.

You wondered if he knew what it was. If he saw it in your eyes the way you sometimes thought you saw it in his. Or maybe you were imagining it all. Maybe it was nothing. But if it was nothing, then why does your heart feel like it was being split into two directions?

And you wonder, just when did all of this change?

~~
You returned to the safehouse just as dawn began to bleed across the snow-choked sky. The world outside was a ghost in white. Silent and half-buried beneath the growing storm.

All four of you trudged through the storm, shoulders hunched against the wind, the silence between you no longer strained but rather heavy with wear.

The warmth of the safehouse hit you like a wave the second you stepped in. A small mercy. You barely managed to kick off your boots before collapsing into the couch. Every part of you ached. Soreness in your muscles. Bruises blooming beneath your skin. The lines in your eyes etched so deep, it almost felt carved. Your adrenaline finally drained away after the three relentless days.
Your eyes brushed to Chamber. Even his arrogance seems dulled. His usual demeanour falling like quicksand. No sharp grin. No slick confidence. Just quiet breaths and faint tremors in his fingers. The mask had slipped. Not fallen. You slowly pushed yourself upright, using the couch to steady yourself.

“I’m heading for a long shower,” you mumbled out. “If anyone needs me… contact me tomorrow.”
There were no arguments. Just silence and the soft creak of floorboards as you disappeared into the bathroom.

The water stung at first, searing over fresh cuts. But you didn’t flinch. You stood beneath the shower head, motionless, forehead against the cold tiled walls. Until the steam fogged up everything around you. Until your breath slowed. Until your mind cleared up.

What was happening to you?

You pressed your hand to your heart. It beat like it had something to prove. Loud and uneven. Trembling with feelings you couldn’t even name. Something was wrong. Or maybe it was right, and that was what made it terrifying.

Why was your mind so afraid to feel the way you feel? Was it because Chamber is dangerous? Because you had seen what he could do with a weapon and his smile?

Or was it because he could see through you more than yourself? Because he saw you? The parts even you didn’t understand? The parts you hadn’t remembered, hadn’t recovered but never dared to open?

Or was it something deeper? Etched into the scars your mind didn't remember. The scars your body never forgets.

You slammed your fist into the wall, the sound vibrated throughout the house. It all… hurts? Not the impact. Your chest, your heart and your mind. The ache growing louder, more unbearable. Your thoughts fight your feelings. Your logic shouting down instincts.
This can’t be real. These feelings… they couldn’t be yours.

“Fuck.” You rasped out, voice cracking from the heaviness in your chest. This was too much. Too much even for you, the one who lives in this vessel. You must pick a path. A path to follow, and never look back on.
You slouched, your feelings were your undoing. He was your undoing. Your lips trembled. Was it really that bad? You grit your teeth, your fist tightening till you draw small beautiful red blood.

No.

Not now. Nothing. Nothing at all. Your goals were your priorities. The memories. Your memories. Everything comes afterwards. You have to remember. You were partners. Nothing more… Nothing less.

You drowned the feelings before it could reach the surface once more, burying beneath duty, silence and something that felt like fear. You clenched your heart, your breath shaking, staggering for air. One breath, then it stopped. Your heart no longer begged but remained still, calm. Your mind finally closed off. And with that, the fatigue rushed in, settling in between the blank spots of your mind. Your body finally giving up holding yourself up anymore.

By the time you stepped out, wearing the softest clean oversized dress shirt you could find in the bag, the others had already disappeared into their own worlds. Yoru and Omen sat together, cleaning the dried blood from their weapons. Blades catching the dim light with each slow swipe of cloth.

You didn’t bother them.

You made your way to your room, fingers trailing the wall for balance. When you opened the door, the room was dim. The moonlight spilled into the room, slicing the bed into soft lines. And there he was.

Chamber sat at the edge of the mattress. His ruined coat gone. Just a loose white shirt now, sleeves half-pushed up, and black trousers still dusted in snow. He turned when you entered, his gaze flickering and then lingered longer than it should have. First at your face to your shirt, down your legs, then back up.
“That size may be a bit too big.” he said with a lazy grin, his voice hoarse around the edges.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, take a step toward him and let yourself collapse on the bed beside him, face planting directly into the pillow. Eyes closed.

“What gave that away?” You mocked. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, warm and teasing,
“Is it at least comfortable? I only buy the finest.”
You lift your head up and pinched the neckline between your fingers. Soft, expensive, familiar.
Then it hit you. The size, the faint smell of his cologne. This was his own. Worn… recently at that too.
Your breach caught in your throat. You hoped he hadn’t noticed.
“It’s alright.” You murmured out and faceplanted once more, hopefully hiding how you felt.

He let out a breath. A quiet one.
“You love to insult me don’t you?”
A smile surprisingly crept onto your face, “I would never.”
He reached out, placing his hand lightly against your back. Warm fingers against damp fabric. The shirt was thin. The contact was subtle, but you felt it. Every part of it.
You flinched, just slightly. Enough for your heart to notice.

“On a good note.” Chamber murmured, his voice softer now, “I’ve contacted Brimstone about the completion of the mission. The Vulture will arrive in a few hours.”
“Thank goodness…” Relief escaped you from deeper in your lungs.

His fingers never left though. Instead, it brushed up your back, you flinched. His fingers lingered, trailed upward along your spine, slow and deliberate. You tried not to move. To steady your breath. But your heart was pounding loud enough, it felt like he could hear it. It was warm, warm against your cold skin. Your soul was betraying you.

Finally, he said something.
“Why did you come?” he asked, voice low. You didn’t answer at first. Just motionless.
“You didn’t answer.” You replied, trying your hardest to hide your emotions. His gaze stayed on you. You could feel it without looking.
“You’re fussing.” He responded.
“You could have died.” You added plainly.
“So could you.”
A faint laugh came out, light in your chest. Quiet and unexpected. You rolled onto your side, as you buried your face into the pillow. As if pretending to sleep would make everything disappear.

And for a moment it worked. Perhaps due to the adrenaline finally disappearing? You didn’t care. Your muscles finally stopped tensing, your heart resting again into a dormant state.
But he didn’t stop. His hand slid lower, curving to rest gently on your side. His thumb brushed small, grounding circles into your skin. Through the shirt, over the aching muscles. Over the drowning confusion at your chest.

“I’m glad you survived.” he murmured, voice close enough to brush the back of your neck. The word sank deeper than you wanted them to. They carved something gentle into the walls.
“I would be insulted if you weren’t glad.” You mumbled out. “I’m a pretty good partner aren’t I?”
A low laugh came out, barely echoing in your head. “That you are.”

The silence returned, but this time it felt different. Not empty. Not distant and not tense. Just full. Full of thing neither of you named. Perhaps you both didn’t have the strength to name it yet. Your thoughts became endlessly merged with your sleepiness. You had thought you were dreaming. Hoping you were.
“Y’know,” you murmured, “Your nanotech is very pretty.”
He hummed, “Is it?”

You nodded, slow and small, your mind beginning to slip somewhere else. Somewhere far from reality. The edges of your thoughts were blurring. His hand was still there, warm and steady. His gaze, strong and calming.
“You really are something else, Aurora.” His voice was almost like a whisper to you.
“How so?” You barely were able to mumble out.

“You should answer that yourself my dear.” His words didn’t quite land. Your consciousness was finally able to rest. Rest into a deep sleep you never wanted to wake up from. Moments became fleeting, time couldn’t ever be more disjointed than it was now. Not right now. You could have been dreaming for hours or mere seconds. Or you couldn’t be dreaming at all, but your eyes wouldn’t have been able to open for you to find out.

Your voice, sleepier now. “Your nanotech are really pretty.”

A breath of subtle laughter came out from him, “You said that already.”
“I know.” You breathed out, “But I do think the rest of you are pretty charming too.”
He was quiet. Merely adjusted his fingers against your skin.
“You didn’t say that before.” he said finally.
“I want to, it is true. Maybe I will tell you.” You mumbled.
“I will too.” He whispered out.

His words didn’t register, because you were already in deep sleep. Sleep cradled you, gently, all at once. Breath slow. Lips parted slightly. And if you had stayed awake just a heartbeat longer. You might have heard what else he said. You might have heard the softness in his voice when he leaned just slightly closer. If you had lingered for another moment, maybe he would have called you pretty words too.

Chapter Text

Light pierced your eyelids, thin slits of gold slipping through the veil of your sleep. You stirred, eyelashes fluttering once, then again. But when your eyes opened, it wasn’t your room you saw. No. Not the flimsy frail walls that looked like they would have collapsed. Not the soft sinking into the mattress.

It was water. Endless crystalline shallows stretched in all directions, rippling softly beneath your bare feet. It reached just above your ankles, cool and unnervingly still. The surface shimmered like glass, reflecting an expanse of sky so vast, it made your breath catch. The sun rays poured down like silk, blanketing everything in a surreal serenity. The clouds drifted lazily across the sky, curved and soft, timeless.

Just where were you?

You turned slowly, heart quiet but alert. There were no landmarks. No wind. Only the gently lapping of water and the light breathing down on you like blessings. It was beautiful in a way that felt almost sacred, heavenly and even.

And yet, something tugged at you. Tugged at the strands of your forgotten heart.

This wasn’t the first time. You didn’t recognise this place, not in the way memory might. But it felt familiar, something your soul could never forget. In your chest, it pulled– a harp string plucked right through. Like something you’d forgotten. Something you had loved.

You wandered aimlessly, with no goals in sight and no real understanding. It continued to stretch, nothing but the endless water.

Perhaps this was a memory locked away. Perhaps it was a warning, or a sign. A symbol, meaning. Where was anyone?

“Hey, __.” The sound faded at the end. Faint, like it was being carried away on a breeze that didn't exist. You turned sharply. He was there again.

He stood only inches from you, bathed in sunlight. His features were vague– your mind couldn’t quite hold him– but his presence felt real. Tangible. A softness radiated from him, and that smile… God, that smile.

“Do you…” he began gently, “Remember me?”
The words hit you like an echo from a faraway place. You froze. Lips parted. Your chest tightened. You didn’t answer. Not right away. Because deep down, something told you he wasn’t just a phantom conjured by sleep. He was someone real. Someone you had known. The way he stood there, unafraid, waiting with quiet hope– it couldn’t be fake. All those other dreams, those flickers of his voice and touch. They weren’t just dreams.

They were fragments. Memories, broken and scattered across the void of your mind.

Was this one too?

No.

You were present. Awake. This wasn’t like before. It wasn’t fading. You were in control.

You were here. Now.

You bit your lip, hesitant to answer. For some reason, your soul tugged deeper, delving into places it should never have been.

You turned away from him, voice brittle.
“No,” you said quietly. “I don’t.”

Silence stretched between you, longer than it should have. When he finally smiled again, it didn’t hurt– but it ached. A smile like that didn’t belong in dreams. It was too human.

“I see,” he said softly.

Still, he didn’t move. Neither did you. And in the silence that followed you both, the sky began to shift.
The light dimmed. The warmth slipped away like water down your spine. Your skin prickling at the sudden change, your eyes glancing at every subtle movement. The wind blew, the clouds heavy, the water dragged.
“Probably for the best.”
A whisper. A whisper that felt more like a goodbye.

And with it, came weight–crushing and sudden. For the first time, you felt scared.
“You should,” he continued, voice almost distant now, “You should stop searching for me.”
Your knees buckled.

Panic. Raw and breathless. Your legs collapsed beneath you, the shallow water now thick and clinging. You hit the surface hard, barely able to lift yourself. Your lungs seized. The air was gone. No matter how hard you inhaled, it was never enough. You were drowning above water.

“It’s for the best,” he repeated. His voice was breaking into pieces. Your hands dug into the water. Useless. Slipping. But before everything could fall away, your hand shot out– shaking and desperate. You caught his arm.

Your grip was weak. Barely there.
But it was enough. He stilled.
You tugged at him.
“I will find you,” you rasped, barely breathing. “I-I.”
Your vision frayed at the edges. The world blurred. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable.
His lips parted. And something warm and wistful passed through his eyes.
“I hope you do,” he said, so quietly it might have been the last breath of the wind.
Then came the final words. A promise that lingered even as your vision collapsed entirely into black.

“I’ll be waiting.”

~~
Your eyes shot wide open.

You lunged yourself upright, chest heaving as if you had broken the surface of deep, thick water. Breath rushed back into your lungs in full, unshackled. It took a second to register the world around you.

The soft sheets, the curtains left in similar waves. Familiar scents and a gentle morning light. You pat down on the mattress. It curved around your press, soft and sinking. You were back at HQ. Back in your own room. Someone must have carried you here.

You tried your best to recall your memories. They were lazy, fragments slipping through your fingers like fine sand. You first looked around your surroundings. Your room was bare as usual. An empty desk. Blank grey walls surrounded you with some books and reports scattered across. You really need to add more to it.

You gently placed your hand on your chest, it was beating rapidly. You were still alive.

You gripped at the creases of your shirt, feeling the soft silkiness. You didn’t have something like this… You immediately looked down. You were still wearing his shirt.

His shirt.

The fabric was soft, loose over your frames. It still carried a trace of his cologne– clean, woodsy and something faintly spiced. Your fingers hesitated at the hem before tugging it off, folding it carefully with practise ease. You changed into a grey wool jumper, tugging the sleeves past your wrists. You didn’t want to think too hard about why you rushed to replace it. But you knew. If you had waited even a second longer, you might have convinced yourself of something that shouldn’t ever be real.

Your eyes flicked to the window. The sun had just begun to crest over the horizon, gliding the ocean in liquid gold. You followed the glow to your bedside table, your phone rested among your daggers, their silver edges gleaming with new polish. Sharpened and cleaned.

Your lips twitched upward. Just barely. You knew who did that for you.

The clock read just past 5:00 am. The world was still quiet. Unmoving and drowsy. Surprisingly, your body felt fine. Not sore. Not stiff, just rested. Like you had just woken up from something rare, a beautiful, uninterrupted sleep.

You gathered his clothes in your arms, neatly folded and stepped into the hallway. The soft pad of your feet echoed with every step, like sound had too much space to fill. The corridors stretched out cold and quiet, empty of life. Of people. Everyone was either out on missions, buried in projects or still lost in their own dreams.

When you reached the door, you hesitated. The tightness in your chest came quick, a swell of something you wished you could crush flat. Nails pressed into your palm, leaving small, red indents.

Calm down.

This wasn’t like you. This can’t be you. This… shouldn’t be you. You’d locked this sort of thing away the moment you woke up. Locked your heart away. Wrapped in caution tape and bruised under everything you’d learnt about control. But to no avail were you able to hold it. The lock never truly held. It seeped through cracks. Not because he forced it. He never had to. A glance, a laugh, a single moment together– it was enough each time.

You weren’t phased by it. Not at the beginning, not first. And nor did it phase you. But the more it happened, it grew. Quietly. Relentlessly.

You were a fool to believe that nothing was growing between you two. But you knew. All those times, every second with him, every moment together, he had you. You hated that you couldn’t tell if he saw it too. The way your eyes long for his. If there was even a fraction of trust, the need that lived in yours.

You crouched slowly and laid the neat pile on the floor. You’ll message him later at a better time, hopefully one where it's not so inconspicuous. And then you turned, walking away before the temptation to knock could have won.

Just not now. That’s all you begged for.

~~
After leaving his door behind, you headed straight for the kitchen. The soft yellow of dawn filtered through the tall window, spilling across the counters in long, drowsy steaks. Leftover kitchenware sat where people had last abandoned it– an empty mug, a knife beside a cutting board, a half-open jar of teal leaves.

You brushed your fingertips along the table as you passed, feeling the faint grit of dust clinging to your skin. No one had used this space in days. You rubbed your thumb over the specks, then idly traced a slow line across the surfaces, watching to break the thin layer like a trail in untouched snow.

The sliding doors behind you whispered open. You turned your head, already smiling.
“Hey KJ. It’s been a while.”

She froze for a second, her eyes still fogged from the early morning. You could see the fine lines in her eyes, the endless nights she must have had.

Then her face lit up.
“Aurora?” You nodded,
Her smile appeared, “I’m so glad you are back!”

She set her coffee down– half spilled onto the counter in a rush and closed the distance in a few quick steps.
“Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
She scanned your entire body, pressing her hands onto your cheek.

You raised both hands in a half-hearted surrender, lips curving.
“I’m okay girl. I promise. Just a few cuts here and there. But I’ve recovered.”
Relief softened her shoulders, and her smile matched yours. But only for a moment. Her thumb tapped against the side of your cheek, quick and restless beats before her expression tightened again.
The next thing you knew, there was a sharp hit to your cheek– not hard enough to hurt, but enough to shock you. Your head turned with the motion, more startled than stung.

Killjoy’s head tilted, eyes narrowing just enough to shock the crack in earlier smile.
Your hand instinctively went to clasp your cheek. “Wait, did you just– what–”
“You think I didn’t read the reports Chamber sent us?” She interrupted, her voice tight with the kind of concern that dressed itself up as annoyance. “You were stabbed. Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

The words hit heavier than the slap. Your eyes were drawn to her expression. Her frown wasn’t sharp, it was trembling at the edges, her lips twitched like she was holding back the urge to scold you harder. Like she was fighting the urge to yell and hug you at the same time. And yet, her eyes– green and unflinching– looked you over.

You lowered your hand, resting it by your side. Your eyes soften, rid of the shock that first took you. Her words stung a lot more than you would have liked to admit. She really did care. You were a fool for not even considering it.

“I’m sorry Killjoy.”
She let out a sharp exhale through her nose, then gave your shoulder a light tap with her fist. It didn't hurt, but her point landed.
“I’m sorry for lying to you.” You added.
“You better be.” She mumbled out.

You smiled faintly and reached up, placing your palm over her green beanie, brushing the top before your other arm slid around her back. You pulled her in, giving her head a gentle pat like you were calming a stubborn cat.
“Shall we clean up those welled-up tears of yours? Too early in the morning to be crying.”
“You’re right…” She said with a quick sniff, breaking away fast from you, “Crying is only when shit goes to shit. Or drinking… or about love life.”

A laugh slipped out of you, warm and quiet, before you stepped back to grab a rag.

“Screw crying over boys. They aren’t worth shit girlie.”
She wiped the tip of her eyelashes. “Haven’t found one like that.” She shrugged, idly tapped her fingers against the mug.
“Good.” You snorted out, glancing over your shoulder at her “They aren’t worth it.”

She huffed once, an amused sound more than mocking. “You are going to say that to me after I was also told you two shared a bed… twice?”

You paused mid-wipe for a moment, taken aback. You slowly began wiping the table once more. “Twice? That is oddly specific KJ.”

Killjoy’s grin tilted sly sharp with the satisfaction of someone who already had a checkmate.
“Because it is specific. Don’t play dumb with me. First time, hotel. Second time. What, literally yesterday night?”

You turned around fully this time, rag in hand, squinting at her. “Why is the report this detailed about these? Who told you this?”
“Don’t dodge the question.” She pointed at you with lazy authority,
You blinked twice, such incredulous information. “This is oddly specific girl!”
“It is not oddly specific,” she shot back, leaning in with a grin. “It is perfectly specific. Very incriminating.”
“Wow” You said flatly, tossing the rag into the sink. “So first you were concerned about me being stabbed and this is what the team focuses on?”
“Hey.” Killjoy shrugged like the weight of the world sat easy, “Priorities girl.”

“Are you sure you're not drunk? These aren’t even related to the missions.”
She gave you once over, smirking. “Well it seems to me your priorities are apparently tall, French and smug.”

Your jaw dropped, “You seriously think I like him like that?”
“Mmhmm.” She didn't believe a word. The tip of her mug tilted in a mocking toast, lips twitching into a half smile of quiet triumph.
“Don’t worry girl. Your secrets are safe with me… For now.” She patted you on the back like she was consoling you.

You rolled your eyes, muttering something under your breath, enough that only made her grin wider. You busied yourself at the counter, grateful for the excuse of making coffee. You loved this, the comfort in its repetition, the peacefulness of making something delicious. Your hand sifted through boxes of teas, finally brushing over the familiar weight of the coffee beans. You popped the bag open. The first breath of deep, roasted nuttiness curled through the air like incense.

“Oh right!” Killjoy perked suddenly, “Most of the gang is free this week from work. Wanna come to Korea? Street food trip.”

You stretched for a mug from the high shelves, balancing on your toes.
“Well, that depends. Who counts as ‘most of the gang’?”
“Well we got me, your all-time favourite. Jett, Raze, Sage and Sova.” She ticked off names with her fingers,
You pursed your lip, “Where are the other two idiots?”
“Got a mission apparently. Heading back to Bennett Island. They didn’t say much.”

You chuckled loud and genuine, as you swirled the espresso shot in your hand. The aroma rose up rich and sharp, pulling you into a small bliss.
“I might come. Depends how much work I have.”

You pulled out the soy milk and poured it into the milk jug,
“Oh yeah, you want me to make one for you KJ?”
“By all means.” She slid a mug across to you.

The hiss of the espresso machine filled the kitchen. Metallic clatter settling into something almost peaceful. The milk frothed beneath your hand, turning smooth and velvety. Just a morning, just a coffee, but it felt like something rare.

Ordinary.

“He has been good to you… hasn’t he.” She said quietly. She said it more like a statement rather than a question. You kept your eyes on the milk, steady the thermometer brushing sixty-five degrees. “Sometimes. His flirts are annoying but he is dependable.”
“Hmm.” A noncommittal sound, yet heavy. She sipped her coffee,
“Why don’t we invite him?”

You nearly burned yourself as you turned,
“Sorry… what?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me.”

“I don’t think he would want to. Besides, he will probably be too busy.”
“So… he will be busy, or is it more that you don’t want him there?”

“Both. I doubt he would be fun to be around.”
She leaned her elbow on the counter, chin in her palm and watched. Watched with the patience of a cat, waiting to pounce. “That sounds like the answer of someone very conflicted.”
You turned back to the coffee, pouring the foam with careful precision. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“Mm.” that smug hum again, followed by the clink of her spoon against ceramic.
“You know, most people don’t end up in two separate reports for ‘accidental bed-sharing’ with someone they can’t stand.”
Heat rose sharply in your cheeks. “For the record, the bed thing was not my idea. At all. Yoru didn’t want to share a bed with that fucker.”
Her grin only widened. “Aurora,” she mimicked, just as low and playful. “You can’t even deny it properly.”

You set her cup in front of her with a small thud, foam art slightly ruined by your slight frustration within your hand. She glanced down, catching the imperfections in the drink before looking back up once more.

“If you want me to stop. I’ll stop teasing.”
For a second, the kitchen wasn’t just warm from the coffee. It was warmer because she had given you an out, an escape. All you had to do was laugh it off, change the subject. Instead, you busied yourself with the counter, wiping at already-clean metal while you were lost.

When you heard his name, what did you really think?

You thought of the way his hair– dark and chestnut slicked back with deliberate precision. The way his smile curved, arrogant and calculated. And to your surprise, it was reassuring. Like it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

The memory of his cologne lingered too, warm spice and crisp, always a second to close when he leaned in with some unbearable flirt.

You remembered the moments in between, when his voice lowered and arrogance peeled back, just enough to see something steadier underneath it all. A hand steadying you after a fall. A phrase in French, softer than a whisper, gentler than snow. The kind of details that should have never mattered but did, because in their own infuriating way, you liked it.

And you hated that. Hated that the thought of him was less irritation and more of something you could keep pulling. Pulling and pulling at a rope, that will never budge. Never rip, never break.

It wasn’t a matter of letting go. You couldn’t. Your hands melded with the rope, like either you pull it the entire way, or give in to it.

You blinked, realising the silence had stretched. Killjoy was watching you closely, her hands curled around the mug but her teasing smile had slipped into something smaller.

You cleared your throat. “He is just complicated.” You looked away, unable to keep her eye contact.
“That’s all.” You mumbled out.

Killjoy hummed into her coffee, “Are you scared?”
Your vision began blurring at the edges, no longer focusing on the coffee… or the world around you. Only her words, and the truth sat heavily on your tongue.
“Depends on the day.” You gave out.

Killjoy reached out, nudging your elbow with hers, grounding you in that simple steady way only she knew how to. “At least you don’t have to figure it out alone. That’s the part you forget sometimes.”

You looked at her, caught off guard by the clarity in her voice. Maybe she’d pulled the rug out from under you more than once this morning, hopefully more than once. You let yourself laugh, quiet and genuine.
“Fine,” You said, settling the coffee between your hands. “If I end up crying over a complicated French man. I’ll come find you first.”

Killjoy’s grin came back instantly, bright and teasing, “I’ll be ready with tissues.”

~~
CHAMBER’S POV:
The morning was soft, almost fragile in the stillness. Dawn crept in with muted golds, a hush of colour stretching across the horizon. The world seems suspended between ocean and sand, caught in the fleeting pause before a day truly has begun. Fresh dew stubbornly clung to the rooftops, catching the light like scattered glass.

The sun stretched slowly over the ocean, warmth draping itself across the water like a painter’s lingering stroke. Each hue is delicate, unhurried and impossibly tender.

Even here, isolated and untouchable, the sky was beautiful. Perhaps more beautiful because of the silence. No traffic, no chatter. No one to fracture its quiet will. Just him, the horizon and the reminder that beauty often asks for solitude.

He wished he could appreciate this more. The quietness of life, the freedom.

A vibration buzzed against his leg.
But nothing ever lasts,

He slid the phone free, placed it on the table and kept his eyes on the water as he answered.

“I’ve cleared everything I possibly could.” A man’s voice cracked through the speaker.
Chamber’s lips parted, a small smile tugging at their corner, relief carried low. “And the other matter I asked for?”

“Empty.”

Chamber lowered his gaze.
“Not even a name?”
“Couldn’t find one. No name and no information. All of it, gone.”

A sharp exhale slipped through his nose. He flicked his wrist and brought the holographic report to life beside him.

Your face stared back, stark against the glow. A few scattered photos surrounded it, grainy candid at cafes, on quiet streets and a park bench. You sat centre in all of these photos, your eyes fixated on the environment surrounding you. But nothing to explain your existence. Nothing at all… empty files left to be filled.

Your files were wiped to perfection.

It wasn’t just an absence. It was an erasure.

His eyes narrowed, studying the ordinary details as if they might show something deeper.
“Who took these photos?”
“Uploaded on a social media account,” The voice replied, “But the page has been scrubbed. Deleted without a trace.”

Chamber exhaled, frustration curling beneath his restraint. All of this for dead ends?
“You are certain,” The man hesitated, “You want to keep digging? This doesn’t feel like your problem.”
“This is exactly my problem.” His tone was razor-flat. “When there is nothing… It means someone worked to make it so.”

A beat of silence, then, “With all due respect. This goes deeper than a clearance. It isn’t worth it.”

Chamber’s gaze lingered on your eyes frozen in one photo– light caught just so. It was brimming with something untamed, unafraid. He had seen those same eyes yesterday, the same one that met him the beginning you met. The way your eyes met him without flinching. Even when he wore his sharpest smile. Your eyes never faltered. Even when he showed how dangerous he truly could be, you never hid. Even when you saw his wounds, bare and open, you never hesitated. When you laughed–
Merde. He crushed the thoughts before it could spread, irritation flashing cold at himself.

There was no mistake, no matter how much he wanted to tell himself. This had to be you.
So where did all that go?

“Where did you even find a girl like this?” The voice pressed.
Chamber’s reply was quiet, flat. “I didn’t.”
The man exhaled sharply. “Are you sure that a nobody is worth searching into?”

He let that hang. Words hung heavy on his tongue, weighted and unshakeable.

Worth it?

He didn’t know. Only that the truth had been cut away with precision. And no one erased so cleanly unless there was something worth hiding. You were not just some nobody.
He has seen you in the fields- quick, instinctive and ruthless. Each strike was measured, each with lethal intent.

He remembered the day you lay across that bed, skin marked in red and white. It was then he understood why you clung to covered clothes, why you never let the fabric slip. He saw it just barely from the corner of his eyes, from the breath-taking glances of you.

Scars crossed your throat, carved so deep they refused to rest. Your back, your arms etched with similar stories. Healed, but never erased. Those were not accidents. They were testimonies written into flesh, a history your body carried whether you wanted it to or not.

A soldier’s edge with a survivor’s bite.

And still- you landed here? In this Protocol?
How?
Was it luck? Was it intentional?

Was it Brimstone?

“You are asking me to walk away,” Chamber said softly. “I cannot.”
“Fine. Don’t give your reasons. That’s fine by me. But I’m out. This trail is poisonous. Whatever’s at the end of it, I don’t want to be caught dead.”

Chamber smirked faintly, “I’ll pay double.”
“Wh-what? No, I-”
“Double, ” He cut in silken. “I’ll contact you later.”

A single press and the line had been cut.
And now silence had returned to the island, to the view. But this time, it no longer resembled peace.

Chapter Text

You had faced gunfire before. Blades a breath away from your throat. Tortured perhaps, even had a knife stab straight down your back. You had survived it all.

But you have never felt more scared than now.

Your heart thrashed in your chest, skin prickling as you backed into the corner of your room. Arms thrown out like some desperate shields. You gasped like prey cornered, hunted.

“No– Don’t do this to me!” Your voice cracked into something pitiful. “I’ll do anything else. Please, I am begging you!”

Two ominous shadows loomed, their faces half-lit by the overhead lamp. Their eyes gleamed with cruel intent. Merciless. Unrelenting.
“GET HER!” Killjoy barked.

Like trained predators, they pounced. You yelped, twisting low and scrambling through the gap between their legs with desperation. Your socks slipped on the floor as you bolted for freedom.
“NO MORE DRESSES, PLEASE!”

“We promise this is the last one!!” Raze shouted after you, voice breaking with laughter.
“We just want you to look good for your first ever time going to Korea!” Killjoy added, that fucking traitor.
You skidded to a halt, whirling around in a cartoonish spin, “You guys will overdress me. Last time, I looked like someone’s sugar baby at brunch! I ain’t trusting you two!”
Killjoy's smirk stretched wicked. “Ta-ta-ta. Dress for the occasion. Mein lieber.”

“It’s street food.” You cried “I am not rolling up to a food cart looking like I am dependent on a sugar daddy!”
Killjoy clasped her hand sweetly “And I ain’t letting you dress in your emo all-black wear.”
Your eyes glanced at Raze just at your flank. Betrayal gleamed in her warm, brown eyes.
“Taya.” You breathed, desperate. The name left your lips like a prayer– soft and pleading.
You rarely said their real names aloud. Amongst the others, those names were promises, secrets carefully kept between the closest. Aliases existed for a reason, to protect yourselves. Yet now, in this moment, it felt necessary, unavoidable.

“Please.”
Raze grimaced. And then– stabbed, sharp and strong into your heart. “Sorry girl. But I agree with her. Just this once.”
“Just this time?” Killjoy gasped, clutching her chest like she’d been shot, “Taya.”

“Alright stop you two.” Another voice broke in. Sage stood calmly against the doorway, her arms folded, “Leave her alone, she doesn’t want this.”

Relief swept over you like sunlight breaking through clouds. You sagged, smiling gratefully. “Thank you for saving me from these devils! Did you know you’re as saintly as you are beautiful?”

Sage smiled back, warm and serene. She even reached for your hands, fingers threading gently through yours. The gesture was soft. Comforting. Safe.

Until her grip tightened. Her gaze flicked over your shoulder. “Tara. Klara,” She said lightly, almost kind. “Get her.”
“You can’t be serious!” You screamed out. Before you could rip free, Raze had your arms pinned to the wall with soldier’s precision.

This was it.

It was over.

~~
“You look so good like this!” Killjoy clapped, practically vibrating with glee. The other two hovered around with agreeing nods.

And then there was you. Sitting slumped in your chair like one of those tragic heroines, legs sprawled, arms limp, every ounce of fight drained from your body. A corpse.

But not any kind of corpse.

A stylised lifeless corpse.

Head lolling forward, you picked half-heartedly at the hem of your shirt. The outfit was annoyingly… perfect. Casual, but polished. Effortless, yet calculated. The loose back and grey flannel hung from your shoulders just right, framing the tight white top beneath it. Ripped sky-blue jeans hugged your legs, every tear looking maddeningly intentional.

And god you fucking hated it.

Never. Never again.

Your mutiny was cut short when Killjoy smacked your hand lightly, sharp enough to sting.
“Stop! Don’t you dare. You look good in it. Don’t even think about taking it off.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” You muttered sulking, “I was merely thinking about how amazing it's going to be if it conveniently was torn.”

Raze forcefully pressed on your head.
“You look good like this.”
You frowned, “I don’t know. It feels too much. Aren’t I going to stand out like a–”
“A hot sexy girl? Hell yeah.” Killjoy chimed, grinning as she tugged at her earrings.
You glared at her, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you as it tugged up.
“Fine, let's just go meet the others before you decide to put on eyeliner or whatever.”

You dragged yourself to your feet, Killjoy still buzzing with smug satisfaction as the four of you made your way through the long hallways. The hum of chatter grew louder as you turned the corner, gazing at the rest of the gang ahead.

Your steps faltered when you spotted Jett and Sova with two familiar figures who absolutely should not have been there.
“Thought you two were on a mission.”

Phoenix grinned wide as he raised his hand in greeting. “Made it back just in time! I wouldn't miss this for the world.”

Your eyes soften. You clasped his hand firmly when he stepped in close.
“Mann, it’s been a while since we’ve been able to hang out as a group again!”
“Hey Ghost Girl.”

The nickname cut through the reunion like a blade, sharp and smug. You tilted your head, already frowning. You let out a long theatrical sigh.
“Fantastic. Just when I thought I had escaped the devils in my room. I found another one out here.”
Yoru’s smirk deepened, clearly entertained. “What can I say? You attract trouble.”

Phoenix barked a laugh, nudging Yoru in the shoulder. “Seems like she misses you.”
Yoru didn’t even glance at him, eyes still fixated on your own with a quiet gaze. Then, his smirk lit up.
“She just can’t stop thinking about me.”

Killjoy stifled a giggle into her sleeve. Raze even snorted loud enough for it to echo down the hallway and even Sage allowed herself a small shake of the head. You refused to give him any satisfaction of a reply, tugging your flannel closer around your shoulders.

You would never admit it.

Not in a million years.

~~
The night in Seoul buzzed with electricity only a city that never sleeps could hold on to. Neon lights blazed like fractured spotlights across the crowded streets, painting everything in streaks of pink, blue and yellow. The group kept mostly in a loose pack, splintering off in twos and threes. You didn’t mind the chaos, in fact, you preferred it like that. It left you free to observe, to listen.

Phoenix, Raze and Jett were locked in an absurdly passionate debate about spice tolerance, voices overlapping and growing louder every time someone swore they could handle it better. Sova drifted behind them with a patient kind of amusement, while Sage followed a few steps after Killjoy who couldn’t resist snapping pictures of every single vending machine and quirky gadget across the floor. The sound of their laughter spilled in the air, warm and unguarded.

You lingered toward the back, keeping them all in your line of sight. Watching them like this, smiling, teasing, shining their personality through a world that wasn’t touched by the Protocol made your chest ache with something quiet and certain. You loved them. And you knew without doubt, you wouldn’t trade a single one of them for anything else.

“You are falling behind.”
The voice came sharp at your side. You startled slightly. You hadn't even noticed Yoru was matching your pace. Hands buried deep in his dark jeans, his shoulders were relaxed. The neon glow caught sharp angles of his jaw, the city bending around like he belonged to it. You hated to admit it, but his outfit was perfect for this.

You snorted, “I wasn’t aware I had signed up for a sprint. My apologies. I’ll catch up.”
A quiet sound– half chuckle, half scoff slipped past him, nearly lost under the swell of the crowds. But you caught it.
“Nice fit,” he said casually. “Suits you better than all that black, emo shit.”
You rolled your eyes with exaggerated annoyance, “Why does everyone say? It’s not emo. It’s practical. Easy to move in. And if you haven’t noticed yet, we don’t exactly work desk jobs.”

He tilted his head, studying you with an infuriating half-smile. “Practicality doesn’t mean you can’t look good. We have standards.”
You huffed, shaking your head, but the corner of your mouth betrayed with a hint of a smile. He saw it, and his own smirk deepened.

Before either of you could press further, his eyes drifted off yours, “Looks like the group found somewhere interesting to eat.”
“Hey you two slowpokes! We’re eating here.” Killjoy waved from up the street.

Your eyes lifted to the glowing sign above the doorway, letters flashing in bright yellow. Korean, unreadable to you. Instinctively, you glanced at Jett.
“This was my spot,” Jett announced proudly. “I worked here before I got recruited. Best food in Korea– hands down.”
“That’s some shameless self promotion,” Phoenix laughed.
“As if you wouldn’t do the same,” you shot back.
“Oi! Can’t be calling me out like that!” Phoenix protested, grinning as the others laughed.

You pushed the doors open and let the group spill in before you. The restaurant was loud, bustling, the kind of warmth that belonged to family spots. Every table crammed with locals chatting, laughing and devouring food served on sizzling pans. The air was thick with the smell of grilled meat and spice, enough to make your stomach growl.

You were taken to your table where the heat hit you the moment you entered the vicinity, a wave of sizzling smoke and spice thickened in the air. With all this laughter, the clatter of chopsticks, the hissing of food fried on hot iron plates, this felt more like a home than a business.

A stout man with a booming voice beamed, “Sooyeon!” he called. They talked in Korean so quickly, you could only catch the warmth of their reunion. Jett’s grin stretched wide,
“He says this is on the house!” She translated proudly,
“Let’s go!” Phoenix whooped.

The group crowded in. You slid into a chair on the far end, only for Yoru to casually claim the spot at your side. He didn’t look at you when he did. Next to him followed Phoenix and Sova. All the girls sat on the opposite side to you.

Plates and side dishes arrived overwhelmingly fast, clattering on the table. Kimchi, sizzling meats, steaming bowls of soups and rice. Drinks began being served, soju bottles and glass cups of water. Killjoy immediately reached for the soju, the only one that reached for drinks whilst the rest reached for the food like hungry ducks.

Sova offered you the first serving of rice with his quiet manners, which you accepted with a grateful smile. Chopsticks clashed as Raze and Jett fought over the same piece of pork belly. Killjoy already pulled out her phone recording a video of chaos. You beamed with a smile from the bottom of your heart. After hectic work, you had missed this. You really had.

Through all of it, you caught yourself looking to your right. Yoru hadn’t touched his food yet. Instead, he was leaning back in his chair, eyes flicking over the group with something unreadable. Detached, but not quite. You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “Are you not hungry?”
He arched a brow at you, finally moving to pick up his chopsticks. “Just waiting. I don’t want to lose a hand in all of this.” He jerked his chin towards Raze and Jett, who were now mock-sparring over a plate of dumplings. You laughed, “Fair point.”

The restaurant was chaotic in the best way possible.
Phoenix immediately grabbed a full bottle of soju half-way through. “Someone’s gotta show you all how the pros drink.”
“You? A pro?” Raze snorted, nearly choking to death from the laughter. “Last time you drank, you sang karaoke in the lobby, horribly.”
“It was Sinatra!” Phoenix defended. “And I crushed it.”
“You cried halfway through.” Killjoy added without even looking up a smidge. She was already stacking her side dishes. “And then you passed out.”

Phoenix pointed accusingly down at the table. “You weren’t even there! Who snitched!”
“She got access to CCTV footage,” Sage said, “Raze told her so she had incriminating evidence.”

“Why is everyone bringing up my worst moment! Ain’t nobody talkin’ about when Jett almost got decked by a street performer in Italy!"
“It isn’t my fault!” Jett snapped, tossing a piece of pork belly into her mouth.
“You tripped into his hat and all the coins rolled out.”

“I tried my best to huddle the money all back!”

The noise was infectious, their stories bouncing across the table. Each one more ridiculous than the next. You found yourself smiling so hard, your cheeks ached. But amid the noises, every so often, you caught Yoru’s presence at your side– quieter than the rest. His smirk was sharp but his eyes softer when they slid towards yours. You ignored it.

~
Walking back from the restaurant was a circus. Killjoy had one arm slung over Raze, singing off-key in German while Raze beatboxed terribly beside her. Jett kept daring Phoenix to race her down the street.
“Come on! Race me hotshot!”

Phoenix puffed up, already stumbling. “Don’t tempt me, lil’ bird–”
Sova already hooked his hand around the back of his collar, dragging him like a misbehaving dog. He chuckled, “You’ll thank me tomorrow when your head isn’t split in half.”
“Oi! I don’t get hangovers!” Phoenix protested, wobbling as Sova marched him forward.

You trailed behind, amused but silent, watching Sage and Sova corral the drunkards like shepherds. That was when Yoru slid into step beside you, hands buried in his pockets. He didn’t lift a finger to help. He never would have. But the smug curl of his mouth gave him away. He was enjoying the show far too much.

Sage turned, eyes narrowing at both of you. “Can I trust you to make it back on your own?”
You nodded, “Of course.”

And just like that, the split happened. In a matter of minutes, Sage and Sova wrangled the others back toward the hideout, their voices fading into the noise of the midnight streets.

What remained was quieter. A different kind of alive. The neon signs hummed and buzzed like pulsing veins. The air smelt of frying batter and cigarette smoke. Street vendors still barked out their wares despite the time of hour. A hole left from the others.

You both drifted off the main street, one block over, until you found yourselves in a lonely park. The grass was cold, damp, but you both sat anyway.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Yoru said finally, voice low.
You shrugged, “Someone has to be.”
“Fair,” he muttered. He leaned back, hands braced against the ground “Not like I wasn’t any different.”

The chill bit at your skin. You shoved your hands into your pockets. Above, the stars burned faintly, blurred by city light but still present. Watching.

“I like them like this.”
“Them?”
“All of them. Laughing, smiling, being idiots.” A smile ghosted your lips. “It’s… normal.”
Yoru hummed, a sound caught between agreement and dismissal.
“Be careful.” He muttered, smirk tugging. “Almost sounds like you’re being honest with me.”

“I’m always honest with you.” You remarked.
That earned you a scoff, his eyes narrowing with faint disapproval, though his lips twitched like he couldn’t help himself.
You let yourself drop back into the grass, the cold seeping into your spine, your gaze slipping past neon and clouds to chase the edges of the stars.
“Some days. I’m just glad I can pretend to be normal.”
“Pretend?”

Your eyes fell, drawn inwards. Dreams flitted at the back of your mind, half-formed images, whispers of something that might have been your past. They left you with nothing solid, only fragments. Never a full picture and never enough to tell you who you really were.
“I’m… not like the others Yoru.” The words slipped before you could stop them, barely louder than the hum of a streetlamp.
“That part is obvious.” He deadpanned, “You dress stupidly.”

You elbowed him in the shoulder, letting a little bit of your anger slip through.
“Asshole.”
He grunted, smirk tugging as rubbed the spot. “See? Honest. Just not in the way you think.”

Despite yourself, you laughed, sharp and short. The sound carried into the night, a fleeting crack in the heaviness pressed against your chest, hidden and oblivious. He didn’t push further. He never has. And maybe that was why you found yourself grateful he was the one sitting next to you, watching stars half-drowned in blue.

Somehow, those stars reminded you of yourself. Blurred by everything that was reality and fantasy. But still burning, quietly and stubborn. You hope you will remember.

“You know…” Yoru’s voice cut through the quiet hums of life, low and hesitant. “I don’t really know you. Not really.”

Your eyes peered to his. Soft and still. It wasn’t a demand. Not even a question. It was a truth, soft and half-hidden beneath the darkness. Something vulnerable peeked. You blinked at him, the words settling around you like a weightless warmth. He was usually all teasing and deflection. But this was something else. You smirked, brushing it jokingly.
"My life story doesn’t come free. Pick on those detective hats. You'll find out.”
He let the silence stretch, his smirk twitching faintly in approval. “Eventually,” he said, softer.

It was almost like a promise.

A promise too good to be true.