The house was swallowed by darkness.
As Sam pushed the front door open, a cold, musty smell drifted out to greet them—the stale scent of a place left untouched for days. The air inside was heavy, carrying traces of dust and silence. Reaching for the switch beside the entrance, Sam flicked on the living room lights.
Warm light spilled across the room, slowly revealing familiar furniture buried beneath a thin layer of dust.
Nao stepped in after him and quietly shut the door behind them. Outside, the winter wind howled against the walls, rattling the half-open windows before slipping through the narrow gaps. The icy draft brushed against their skin, sending an involuntary shiver through both men.
"God... you even left your windows open."
Nao swept a glance across the living room with mild disbelief.
"I don't like closed windows," Sam replied simply.
He walked farther inside, it had only been six days, six days wasn't a long time.
Yet the moment he stepped into the house, an unfamiliar emptiness wrapped around him.
Everything remained exactly as he'd left it.
The bedroom door was still half-open, the light still glowed faintly down the hallway.
Nothing had changed.
Then why does it feel so... hollow?
The silence inside the house felt wrong. Not peaceful.
Empty.
Cold.
Even the walls seemed unfamiliar.
While Sam stood quietly absorbing the unsettling atmosphere, Nao remained near the entrance, his sharp eyes silently examining every corner of the house. Nothing escaped his notice.
After a long moment, Sam walked toward his bedroom.
The lights flickered on as he entered. He moved straight to the bedside table, reaching for his phone charger, but paused.
"...Where did I leave it?"
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he searched around the room.
The bedside drawer.
Nothing.
Under the pillow.
Nothing.
Behind the desk.
Still nothing.
Nearly five minutes later, he finally opened the wardrobe and found the charger carelessly tossed onto one of the shelves.
"There you are..."
Pulling out his phone, he plugged it in and watched the dead screen come back to life. Behind him, a calm voice broke the silence.
"Your house is beautiful."
Sam glanced over his shoulder. Nao stood against the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Without looking at him for long, Sam returned his attention to the charging phone.
"This isn't my house."
Nao raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"It belongs to my best friend."
"I see..."
Nao slowly surveyed the bedroom again.
"But I don't see your best friend anywhere."
"He's not here."
A brief silence followed.
Then....
"So... where is he?"
Sam sighed softly without looking up.
"Nao..."
"Hm?"
"Are you interrogating me?"
Nao rolled his eyes.
"Not really."
His gaze wandered across the room once more.
Bookshelves.
A neatly arranged desk. Curtains swaying gently with the cold breeze.
His eyes settled on a framed photograph hanging on the wall.
Without asking, he walked over and lifted it from its hook.
"So..."
Nao stared quietly at the photograph.
"Is this your best friend?"
Sam finally looked up. A photo of sam and zero, sam nearly fought with zero over that photo to keep it with him, a memory flashed infront of sam's eyes. The moment he saw the frame in Nao's hands, his expression changed.
"Yeah."
His voice sharpened slightly.
"Put it back."
Nao didn't move.
"And don't touch my things."
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Nao's eyes remained fixed on the smiling young man in the photograph.
"...Are you close to him?"
This time...
His voice had changed.
The playful tone disappeared completely, It became colder.
Sharper.
Heavy enough to make the room feel several degrees colder. Sam froze.
Without warning...
A memory resurfaced.
"You are mine, Sam."
The words echoed vividly inside his head. His fingers tightened instinctively around his phone.
He looked away.
"I don't want to think about that..."
"Why are you asking?"
His voice came out quieter than intended.
"I already told you.""Put the frame back."
Nao slowly turned toward him. His face was unreadable.
"Sam..."
His voice was low.
"When I ask something..."
He took one deliberate step forward.
"...you answer."
Another step.
"You are in no position..."
Another.
"...to order me around."
Sam instinctively stepped backward, a chill crawled down his spine.
"What's wrong with him...?"
"This pressure...what is this...?"
Nao stopped only a short distance away, his gaze never left Sam's face.
"So."
"Answer me."
Sam swallowed.
"Y-Yeah..."
He lowered his eyes.
"We're close."
A brief pause.
"He's..."
His voice softened almost unconsciously.
"...really important to me."
Nao didn't answer immediately.
"...I see."
His jaw tightened.
His eyes slowly drifted back to the photograph resting in his hands, for one long second....nothing happened.
Then....
His grip tightened, the veins across his hand became visible.
Without warning..
He slammed the frame onto the hardwood floor.
CRASH!!
Glass exploded across the room.
Sharp fragments scattered in every direction, skidding beneath the furniture as the photograph slipped free from its shattered frame.
One jagged shard scraped across the floor, stopping just inches from Sam's shoe.
He froze. His breathing caught in his throat.
"W-What the hell did you do?!"
His voice cracked with genuine panic.
"Nao!"
Without saying a single word; Nao turned around. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He walked straight over the broken glass without sparing it a glance, his boots crushing the scattered shards beneath every step. The bedroom door swung open.
A second later..
BANG!
The front door slammed shut somewhere downstairs. Silence returned. For several seconds, Sam couldn't move.
"What..."
His voice was barely audible.
"...the hell is wrong with that psycho bastard?"
Still shaken, he slowly crouched beside the broken frame. His trembling hands carefully lifted the photograph away from the shattered glass.
Thankfully....the picture itself hadn't been damaged.
Releasing a quiet sigh of relief, he placed it gently on the bedside table.
Outside, nao shoved the front door open with enough force for it to crash against the wall.
"...Tch."
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
"What the hell..."
His breathing was uneven.
"Why am I angry?, It's just a damn photograph."
"So why...Why does seeing him smile beside someone else piss me off so much?"
"...Fuck."
He couldn't understand it, the irritation clawing at his chest made no sense, grinding his teeth, he grabbed his helmet from the motorcycle and put it on before straddling the bike.
The engine remained silent, simply sat there, waiting.
Several minutes later, the front door opened again, sam stepped outside, his entire body was stiff, without saying a word, he walked toward the motorcycle, he put on his helmet, climbed onto the back seat, and silently grabbed the back of Nao's jacket, his fingers tightened instinctively, his jaw tightened.
"I hate this...But right now..."
"One wrong move could get me killed."
The motorcycle roared to life, its engine shattered the unnatural silence of the late night, without another word...Nao accelerated, the sports bike shot down the empty road, disappearing into the darkness.
_______________________________________
The digital clock on the wall read 4:00 PM.
Outside, the Australian sun cast long golden rays across the quiet countryside, but inside the secluded farmhouse, the atmosphere remained tense.
The safehouse had been converted into a temporary operations center.
A large white table dominated the middle of the room, its surface covered with blueprints, satellite photographs, and tactical maps. Several locations had been marked in red ink, while colored pushpins identified key positions around the warehouse.
Weapon cases lay open along the walls, assault rifles rested neatly inside padded foam, boxes of ammunition were stacked beside them. Explosives, smoke grenades, medical kits, and tactical equipment had already been prepared. The room smelled faintly of coffee, machine oil, and gunpowder.
Li Cheng lifted his coffee mug before taking a slow sip.
"You really think we'll reach the target that easily?"
He placed the mug back onto the table.
"We'll need a backup plan."
His calm eyes remained fixed on the blueprint.
"If we know something about them..."
"...they're just as capable of knowing something about us."
Leaning against the edge of the table with both arms folded across her chest, Maera quietly considered his words.
"We already have enough firepower."
Her eyes moved across the marked routes.
"But firepower alone isn't enough."
She tapped one of the warehouse entrances with her finger.
"We need complete intelligence."
"The more information we have before moving..."
"...the fewer surprises we'll face."
Silence settled between them. After a moment, Maera picked up her coffee.
"When do we move?"
Li Cheng scanned the room once more, every piece of equipment had been checked twice. every weapon was ready, only a few missing supplies remained.
"The fragmentation grenades should be enough."
He slipped a lighter and a cigarette from his pocket.
"...but we'll probably need smoke grenades."
He lit the cigarette with practiced ease before taking a slow drag.
"In case Plan B becomes necessary."
A thin stream of smoke drifted toward the ceiling.
"So..."
Maera rested her mug on the table.
"If the remaining explosives arrive tonight..."
"...our strike team can move out tomorrow morning."
"Hm."
Li Cheng nodded.
"Exactly."
Without asking, Maera reached over, stole the cigarette from between his fingers, and took a puff herself.
Li Cheng watched her with complete resignation.
"You really have no respect for other people's cigarettes."
She shrugged.
"They taste better when they're stolen."
A rare chuckle escaped Li Cheng.
She smirked.
"I figured smoking would have killed you by now."
Li Cheng laughed quietly.
"I'll disappoint you for a few more years."
The easy banter between them briefly dissolved the tension hanging over the room.
Anyone watching them now would have assumed they were old friends sharing coffee on an ordinary afternoon.
. . .
"What about the security system?"
Maera asked.
"We still need access to their internal network."
"The surveillance feeds, login credentials. If we can't bypass those..."
"...this mission becomes much riskier."
Li Cheng smiled without looking up.
"Maera...you worry too much."
She narrowed her eyes.
"And you don't worry enough."
Before he could answer, his phone vibrated across the table. Li Cheng picked it up.
"So..."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"You're here."
A brief pause.
"Good."
"We've been waiting."
The call lasted less than thirty seconds. He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"The answer to your question..."
He looked toward Maera and gave her a knowing wink.
"...has just arrived."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"Don't underestimate this old man."
Li Cheng smirked.
"I never walk into a battlefield unprepared."
he walked out, a faint smirk was still playing on the corner of his lips
. . .
A knock echoed through the farmhouse.
Three light taps.
Before anyone could answer, the door opened, a young man stepped inside with effortless confidence.
He wore a black hoodie beneath a dark tactical jacket, a laptop bag hanging casually over one shoulder. His messy silver hair framed a pair of unusually bright eyes that constantly seemed to be searching for something interesting.
Unlike everyone else in the room...he looked completely relaxed, almost too relaxed.
"Of course I'd show up."
A playful grin spread across his face.
"The Citadel doesn't need my talents every day."
Li Cheng shook his head.
"Come on, we've got work to do."
The young man fell into step beside him. as they walked toward the operations room, he glanced sideways.
"Mr. Li..."
"Hm?"
"You've been looking older lately."
Li Cheng sighed.
"I was wondering how long it'd take before you started."
"So..."
The young man continued with a grin.
"...did you finally get married?"
This time, Li Cheng couldn't help laughing.
"You brat."
"In our line of work, things like marriage and ordinary happiness are luxuries."
He glanced ahead.
"You know that better than anyone."
The young man smiled quietly.
"I know."
The humor faded for only a second before they entered the main operations room. Maera looked up from the tactical map.
"Mr. Li."
"Done with target practice?"
"Finished."
He stepped aside.
"Maera..."
"Meet the answer to your question."
He gestured toward the young man standing beside him. The newcomer immediately extended his hand, a bright smile appeared on his face.
"Hi."
"I'm Erion Opherus, lead Cyber Intelligence Specialist."
"You can just call me Erion."
Maera accepted the handshake politely.
"Pleasure to meet you."
"I'm Maisie Zyon"
"But everyone calls me Maera."
For a second, Erion froze, his eyes widened.
"...Wait."
His jaw slowly dropped.
"No way."
He stared at her in complete disbelief.
"You're..."
"The Maisie Zyon?"
"The heir to the Zyon family?"
"The businesswoman who built seven companies before turning thirty?"
"Oh my God..."
His excitement exploded all at once.
"I'm actually meeting you?!"
"I'm a huge fan!"
"Seriously..."
"How did you even do it?"
"I've wanted to ask you that for years!"
"Can I take notes?"
"What books do you read?"
"Were you always this smart?"
His words came so quickly they nearly tripped over one another. Only when Li Cheng cleared his throat loudly did Erion finally realize he'd been rambling.
"...Ahem."
He straightened awkwardly.
"My apologies."
He scratched the back of his head.
"M-Ms..."
He hesitated.
"...Maera."
"I really admire your work, I'm honored to be working with you."
Maera couldn't help smiling.
"You're exaggerating, I'm just an ordinary person."
Erion immediately shook his head.
"No, I don't think so."
Li Cheng folded his arms.
"Done with the fan meeting?"
Both of them turned toward him.
"Good, Now get to work."
_______________________________________
The corridor was silent, only the faint hum of fluorescent lights echoed through the concrete hallway, a soft knock sounded against the heavy steel door.
Three precise taps.
"Enter."
The command came from inside.
The handle turned, and the door opened.
A young man stepped into the room with measured, disciplined movements.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his posture was flawless. Every step was calculated, every movement controlled. His polished shoes clicked softly against the marble floor as he stopped before the long conference table.
Without hesitation, he brought his right hand sharply to his forehead in a crisp military salute, his heels struck together with a sharp click.
"Alpha Three, Commander Isamu Kaiza, reporting for duty, sir."
His voice was calm.
Flat.
Not a trace of emotion could be heard, around the conference table sat several influential figures whose faces remained partially concealed beneath the dim lighting.
One of them spoke.
"Commander Isamu."
"You may sit."
"Yes, sir."
Pulling out the chair with controlled precision, Isamu sat upright, his back remained perfectly straight. Hands resting neatly on his knees. Eyes fixed forward, waiting. Another man leaned slightly over the table.
"The mission."
His voice was deep.
"What was the outcome?"
Without pausing to think, Isamu answered.
"According to the assigned orders..."
"Every cargo container was successfully destroyed during transport."
"The vessel's lifeboats were also eliminated."
He continued speaking in the same steady tone.
"There were..."
"...no survivors."
Silence.
Not even satisfaction crossed his face. It was simply another report. Another completed assignment. One of the officials slowly nodded.
"Excellent work."
"You are dismissed."
"Remain on standby for further orders."
Isamu rose immediately, his chair slid back with barely a sound.
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you, sir."
He saluted once more. Turned. And left exactly as he had entered.
Without unnecessary words and movement. The heavy door closed behind him with a soft metallic click. Silence reclaimed the room. One of the ministers leaned forward. His fingers intertwined before him.
"Tomorrow's event is far too important."
"We cannot afford even the smallest risk."
Another official looked toward the head of the table.
"So..."
"What are your next instructions, Director?"
The room waited, the Director remained motionless.
His fingers tapped once against the polished wooden table.
Then,
"Alpha Four."
The room froze.
For several long seconds....
No one spoke.
"...What?"
One minister finally broke the silence.
"Alpha Four?"
Even his voice carried unmistakable disbelief. The Director met his gaze without expression.
"Yes."
"This operation will be entrusted to Alpha Four."
"No one else is capable of executing it with the required level of precision."
The atmosphere instantly grew heavier.
One elderly minister slowly shook his head.
"...Director..."
"There has to be another option."
His voice betrayed genuine unease.
"Alpha Four..."
"They aren't soldiers."
"They're monsters."
No one interrupted him, He continued quietly.
"People whose existence has never officially been acknowledged."
"They carry out missions even death squads refuse."
"They eliminate anyone, It makes no difference to them."
"They don't hesitate."
"They don't question."
"They don't leave survivors."
His breathing grew uneven.
"You intend to unleash those people?!"
The room fell silent again, the Director folded his hands calmly.
"If completing this mission requires Alpha Four...then Alpha Four will be deployed."
His tone never changed.
"They are the most efficient unit we possess."
"They answer only to me."
"As long as they receive no order from me...they will not act."
His words offered little comfort, several ministers exchanged uneasy glances.
None of them looked reassured.
Finally, one of them exhaled heavily.
"...Very well, If that's your decision.....then summon Alpha Four."
The Director reached for the telephone sitting beside him, without hesitation, he lifted the receiver.
"Connect me to Alpha Four."
A brief pause.
"Immediately."
_____________________________________________
The motorcycle rolled to a stop beneath the towering black facade of Obsidian.
The massive building rose into the night like a fortress of glass and steel, its reflective surface swallowing the city lights instead of reflecting them.
Before the engine had fully died.....Sam climbed off the motorcycle, he removed his helmet and placed it carefully on the seat, all he wanted was to get away from Nao.
Before he could take another step.....a firm hand wrapped around his wrist.
Sam stiffened.
Nao's grip was impossibly strong.
Tch...does this guy eat steel or something?
How is his grip this strong...?
He instinctively tried to pull away, It didn't move even an inch. Nao calmly removed his own helmet and placed it on the motorcycle before finally releasing Sam's wrist.
Without saying a word.....He walked toward the entrance, sam silently followed. Nao's face remained completely expressionless. Unreadable.
Yet the oppressive aura surrounding him was enough to make anyone instinctively keep their distance. They had barely entered the lobby when one of the servants hurried over.
He bowed respectfully.
"Master Onizuka, Master Renji wishes to see you."
Nao stopped walking, for the first time since leaving the house, He looked directly at Sam, neither of them spoke. Nao reached into his coat, he pulled out a black access card.
Holding it out toward Sam, he said:
"Go upstairs."
His voice remained cold.
Emotionless.
Sam accepted the card almost automatically, he stared at it for a second.
His grip... His voice...
None of it matches.
Just who... are you..?..
Without another word, Sam headed toward the private elevator reserved for VIP members.
Behind him, Nao turned and followed the servant down another corridor.
The two disappeared in opposite directions, the silence between them lingered long after they were gone.
__________________________________
The operations room had transformed into a command center.
Several laptops now occupied the large white table, their screens glowing beneath the dim ceiling lights. Cables snaked across the tabletop, connecting encrypted drives, portable servers, and communication equipment into a single network.
The atmosphere had completely changed. the casual conversation from earlier had vanished.
Erion's fingers danced effortlessly across the keyboard, lines of code streamed down multiple monitors faster than most people could read them, without taking his eyes off the screens, he spoke.
"I'm in."
A second monitor lit up. An architectural blueprint appeared.
"This is the warehouse's surveillance control room."
Another window opened. One after another, live security camera feeds filled the screen.
"There are cameras covering nearly every corridor."
He zoomed into the digital blueprint, squinting his eyes as he read the data loading under the blueprint.
"The place is much larger than it appears from the outside."
Colored lines highlighted underground structures.
"There..."
He pointed toward a section beneath the warehouse.
"There's an underground level."
He frowned slightly.
"I'm not sure whether it's a bunker, a tunnel network, or simply a storage facility."
His fingers continued moving.
"I'm trying to access their internal security files..."
Another loading bar appeared.
"...but everything important is encrypted."
"Military-grade encryption, breaking it won't be quick."
Maera silently watched him work.
Only twenty minutes earlier, he had been joking around like an overexcited fan.
Now, his expression had completely changed, every trace of playfulness had disappeared, his concentration was absolute, his hands never hesitated.
He's...impressive.
That was the only conclusion she could reach, Li Cheng crossed his arms.
"Once those files are decrypted.....we'll have everything we need."
"The warehouse layout.
Their patrol routes.
Their internal communications."
He looked around the room.
"We move tomorrow morning."
No one objected, the operation had officially begun.
Elsewhere...
A man knelt on one knee.
"Master."
"Our scouts have confirmed it."
"They're planning to attack tomorrow."
The room remained silent.
Standing before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, a man watched the darkness stretching beyond the city skyline.
His hands rested calmly inside his pockets.
Without turning around, he spoke.
"So..."
"They've finally chosen open war."
A faint smile tugged at one corner of his lips.
"A snake never abandons its nest."
His reflection stared back at him through the glass.
"If it does..."
"...the hawk crushes its eggs."
The kneeling subordinate lowered his head.
"I understand, Master."
"Good."
The man's gaze never left the city.
"Griselda."
Across the room, a young woman lazily looked up from the weapon she had been polishing.
She spun the combat knife once around her fingers before standing.
"Yes?"
"Go."
She smiled.
"As you wish."
The kneeling subordinate immediately rose to his feet and followed her out of the room.
The door closed quietly behind them.
The Master remained alone...still watching the city.
Waiting...
___________________________________________________
The bedroom door slammed shut.
BANG.
Sam leaned against it for a second before slowly sliding down onto the floor.
His knees drew toward his chest, his breathing was uneven, the black access card remained clenched tightly inside his hand.
His grip tightened.
Tighter....
Tighter....
The edges dug painfully into his palm.
Why...?!
Why does every time I'm around him feel like I'm suffocating?
He stared blankly at the card, his jaw tightened.
Then.....
With every ounce of strength he had...
"Son of a bitch!!"
He hurled the card across the room.
CRACK!
It slammed against the wall before falling onto the carpet. Silence followed.
His breathing was the only sound left inside the room. he hide his face into both of his palms, the heat touched his face, warm..almost burning, and for the fisrt time since enduring....he finally let him self go...quietly...almost secretly...
______________________________________________
2:00 PM
Japan
Noah stepped out of the airport terminal and stretched his stiff shoulders.
"...Haa..."
A long sigh escaped him, travel always exhausted him, beside him, Zero didn't look much better. Neither of them had spoken much during the flight.
They were tired.
Mentally.
Physically.
There wasn't time to rest.
As soon as they exited the terminal, a black luxury sedan pulled to the curb, the chauffeur stepped out immediately.
"Welcome back, Mr. Zeyad."
Zero acknowledged him with a small nod, the driver quickly collected their luggage before opening the rear door, Zero gestured toward Noah.
"You first."
Noah quietly climbed inside, Zero followed a moment later.
Soon.....
The sedan merged into the afternoon traffic, the city passed silently outside the windows.
Noah leaned his head back against the seat, his eyelids felt heavy, Zero noticed.
"Get some sleep..."
a pause...
"I'll wake you when we arrive."
For a moment...
Noah said nothing.
Then he gave a faint nod.
"...Okay." in a very faint voice...he replied.
Within minutes, his breathing slowed, he had fallen asleep.
Zero looked out the window.
His composed expression....the perfect mask worn by one of the Austin's most successful CEOs.....softened almost imperceptibly.
The familiar streets stirred memories he hadn't expected to revisit. He took out his phone, checked several unread messages, typed a brief reply.
The soft tapping of his fingers echoed quietly through the car, when he finished, he locked the screen. Leaning back, he closed his eyes as well.
_______________________________________________________
The conference room doors opened.
Two men entered.
Both wore immaculate black suits.
Every step they took was slow.
Measured.
Deliberate.
Without acknowledging anyone in the room, they approached the conference table.
Pulled out their chairs.
Sat down.
No greetings.
No unnecessary formalities.
It was as though the room belonged to them.
In a way...It did.
An uncomfortable silence settled over everyone present, one official quietly wiped the sweat gathering at his temple.
Finally....
The Director spoke.
"This mission is of the highest priority."
He slid a classified file across the polished table.
"Do not fail."
One of the men picked it up.
He glanced at the cover, didn't bother opening it.
The Director noticed, Before he could speak..
A minister frowned.
"You two really are unprofessional."
He folded his arms.
"Would it kill you to actually read the file?"
The room froze.
Several officials immediately lowered their eyes.
The Director remained silent.
You idiot...!!!
The Chairman clenched his jaw.
You just signed your own death warrant.
One of the two men slowly stood.
He turned toward the minister.
His movements were frighteningly calm.
"So..."
His voice was almost gentle.
"You find my behavior unprofessional."
He smiled.
"your words..sounds sweet to my ears..."
"In that case..."
"...your tongue deserves to be framed."
The minister frowned.
"What nonsense are y—"
Before the sentence could finish.....
The man seized his jaw.
His fingers forced the minister's mouth open.
A golden knife flashed beneath the conference room lights.
that man breifly glanced at the director..sitting across him on the table head.
The Director gave a single blink.
A Permission.
That was all...
then...
The blade disappeared into the man's mouth.
And a heartbeat later...
AAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!!
The scream tore through the conference room, blood splattered across the polished floor.
The man calmly stepped backward, between two fingers...he held a freshly severed tongue, still dripping crimson.
The minister collapsed onto the floor.
Writhing...
Screaming....
Clutching at his ruined mouth....
No one moved.
No one breathed.
The room had become a prison of absolute terror, the man glanced once at the bloody piece of flesh.
"...Beautiful."
He casually tossed it into a nearby trash bin.
Then....
He wiped the golden blade clean using his gloves.
Removed them.
Discarded them beside the bin.
Sheathed the knife.
Without another word...
Both men walked out of the conference room.
Just as calmly as they had entered.
The silence they left behind was even more horrifying than the screams.
___________________________________________________
TO BE CONTINUED...