Against every scrap of good judgment he possessed, Luca had brought himself here. What he hadn't planned was being ordered to face a corner like a misbehaving child.
He stared at the wall, his dignity slipping through his fingers like sand. "Two overtimes," he offered, his voice dripping with faux pride.
No reaction.
Zayn didn't move. Didn't sigh. Didn't even shift his weight. The man was statuesque.
"Would you like me to increase the number?" Luca tried again, his voice lighter than he felt. "Four? Five? Director, please? There's no way I'm that indispensable, director," he went on.
Silence swallowed the room.
Slowly, Luca realized Zayn wasn't ignoring him. He was listening and choosing not to respond.
Determined to get something out of Zayn, Luca added, "Director," he said carefully, "with all due respect… You might be overreacting. Just a little."
Zayn's eyes narrowed by a fraction. He did not associate it with overreacting.
He let the silence steep, deliberate and controlled, before finally speaking. His voice was low and steady like a blade sliding out of its sheath. "You seem to think this is about overreacting," Zayn said. "It is not."
Luca swallowed.
"I do not suppose you need me to spell out your mistake."
"Well—I—huff." Luca raked a hand through his hair. "You almost spilled classified information to the wrong ears, and I'm the one staring at a corner?" He snapped. And of course, he did not get another reply. Just Zayn grumbling behind him.
The walls, at least, were lovely. Pale stone veined with silver runes, calm and unbothered. Not judgmental. Luca let his eyes linger there, finding comfort in their calm beauty.
"Beautiful walls," he murmured. "At least you don't judge me."
Zayn scoffed. Unbelievable.
Luca started sighing periodically, dramatically, like a machine programmed to test patience. He smirked to himself.
"I will not give in to his whims," Zayn told himself. "Not today."
"Oh, how I wish I could get my work done," Luca went on, "but staring at walls is delightful in its own way. I will name this one Sally—and that one Ben."
Zayn's lip twitched, the faintest trace of a smirk threatening his usual cold mask. Giving in might've been okay after all. "If you're naming walls, Sterling," he said coolly, "they must be more productive than you."
The words were almost amused, but his eyes said otherwise.
Luca shot him a cheeky grin over his shoulder. "Well, Sally and Ben seem to have better communication skills than you, dear director."
Zayn's chest puffed out like he was about to breathe fire, his gaze sharpening. "Outside seems to be a better place for your antics. Unless you'd like me to throw you out."
"Outside?" Luca hummed. "What if the paparazzi catch a glimpse of my radiance? You'd lose me forever."
"Then so be it."
Luca's smile softened—but it didn't reach his eyes. "And here I thought you still had a shred of sunshine behind that icy exterior."
Zayn's voice dropped just a tad. "I don't."
Luca was almost convinced. Almost, but Zayn wouldn't do that over playful banter—would he?
He swallowed. "Oh, come on, director. Everyone needs a little brightness in their day. Even you."
Zayn didn't respond. "What brightness?" He muttered.
Luca turned, putting on his most pitiful expression. "Can I stop staring at the walls now, please?"
"Do as you please."
"Fantastic." Luca turned, relief slipping into his voice. "Now about this case, I've been thinking about it even in my sleep. And, before you decided to punish me for practically saving you—"
"Good grief," Zayn cut in. "Who replaced the human with a parrot?"
"A parrot? Well, if I were a parrot, I'd live in a tropical jungle. Do you think I'd get kidnapped and put into a zoo?"
"Who would willingly burden their ears for you?"
"You do that every day, silly." Luca dropped into the chair opposite the desk. "Now—about the artifact. You said its light has been dimming. I reviewed countless reports last night before passing out."
"It's almost as if I were there with you," Zayn said flatly.
"When an artifact's light dims," Luca continued, his tone shifting into something steadier, "it usually signals disaster nearby. But sometimes it can mean someone or something is draining it by force." He paused, meeting Zayn's quiet gaze. "This isn't just a flicker—it's a warning. And we need to be prepared, not only for the worst but also for what we might need to save."
"Took you long enough to catch up," Zayn replied.
Luca blinked. "You knew…?"
"Of course," Zayn said dismissively.
"Then why didn't you tell me?" Luca frowned. "I would have worked faster. Well—I'd have stayed up anyway, but—"
Zayn crossed his arms, his gaze sliding away.
"Say it," Luca prompted.
He didn't budge.
"Director."
"You said this was your case," Zayn muttered. "Why should I explain what's obvious?"
Obvious? Maybe to him. Luca's voice came out quieter, and he was smiling faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Very well, I'll do my best to work harder."
"I expect nothing less," Zayn said dismissively.
"Alright, so about the two possibilities, the latter is more likely. Why? Because while you were buried in reports last night, I… might've slipped away to check the artifact again and—"
He stopped. Just for a second. Like someone had quietly unplugged him.
Luca's palms pressed flat against the desk as he grounded himself. The room tilted, his vision blurring at the edges. It wasn't enough to be obvious, just enough to make the floor feel farther away than it should. He clutched his stomach.
Breathe; don't be dramatic.
"—Which means," he continued briskly, "we should cross-reference historical artifact drains within a seventy-year radius. I can pull those records, no problem, director."
Across from him, Zayn didn't respond but looked calmer nonetheless.
Luca reached for a folder. Missed. His hand knocked the edge instead, and the files slid halfway off the desk. He caught them too quickly.
"Ah," he chuckled tightly, "truly a vision of competence."
"If you're finished performing," Zayn said,
"Sit properly."
"I am," Luca replied, still smiling—just a bit tighter now. "This is my professional posture."
Zayn watched just a bit longer than necessary. "You're pale."
"I'm human," Luca said quickly, "and I don't get much sunlight, director."
"Drink water."
"Yes, yes." Luca reached for the glass next to him, hands trembling just enough to ripple the surface. He switched hands. Zayn seemed to notice but didn't speak up.
Luca took a sip as if nothing had just happened, set the glass down, and continued.
"So as I was saying, before my tragic descent into desk-related violence—"
His voice was a touch slower now. And Zayn irritatingly didn't interrupt again.
***
Luca's smile shone brighter than any crystal or artifact—the kind of smile he wore when he refused to let his body win. He and Zayn were going to check out the artifact together. That was a privilege Luca had never expected to earn. He was going to brag to his friends about this and watch them writhe with jealousy.
Luca brought his favourite ragged notebook, which he refused to retire. Along with the squeaky pen. How could he ever let go of these precious items? It wasn't his fault that Margot couldn't see their beauty. She was missing out, simple as that.
"Director," Luca said as they walked, "Why does the vault have to be on the top floor? And why does it need to be submerged in the TSL Enchanted Lake?"
"Who gave you permission to ask questions?" Zayn grumbled.
"Right," Luca sighed. "Can't even ask questions in this economy." He murmured under his breath.
Zayn rolled his eyes, arms crossed, and face stony.
They climbed stairs endlessly, and then they reached the ancient stone doors to the top floor. It required a special identification card that only the most trusted employees possessed. And Luca possessed one of them.
"Which card, director?"
Zayn grumbled.
"Okay, I'll use mine, since you want to be grumpy." Luca pulled out his card from a pouch in his coat and scanned it. With a high beep, the large stone doors began sliding open, unleashing a gust of wind.
Luca swallowed hard. Memories of his last visit to the vault still haunted him.
Zayn stepped in like the storm had been expecting him. Instantly, the wind surged forward—and yet, when it reached him, it broke. His long dark curls lifted, spiralling in the currents, but never once crossed the path of his eyes. The air itself knew better than to obstruct his line of sight. His perfectly tailored dress shirt pulled taut against his large frame as he moved deliberately and unhurriedly.
Behind him, Luca nearly tripped over the threshold. The pressure hit him like an invisible wall. His hair lashed across his face, his breath knocked shallow—but he still smiled.
Luca couldn't help staring. Zayn was walking through this safety hazard as if he were the danger. The light hit his silver eyes just right, and the storm lifted his thick curls like something precious rather than wild. Luca was captivated. Even the wind treated him with respect.
While ignoring his now spasming stomach, he said, "Here goes nothing!"
Zayn sank his feet in the lake first. The lake reacted with a roar, as if speaking a foreign language. Then, Zayn talked to it. Though
Luca couldn't make out any of it, it stirred something within the water.
The lake surface dipped inward, forming a slow, rotating funnel. It wasn't a violent whirlpool but a controlled descent. The lake was listening to Zayn.
Runes glowed beneath the water, forming a path downward.
Luca stared for a good second before exhaling. "Okay, here we go," as if his legs weren't shaking.
Zayn didn't react—but Luca could've sworn he saw the faintest twitch in his lips.
He went further into the lake without hesitation. Not swimming. Walking. The water parted around him mid-calf, not daring to wet his clothes.
However, it wasn't the same for Luca. The lake resisted him, lashing higher against his body. The cold bit through his legs; the lake's mana was reacting to him like static electricity. And for half a second, he lost balance.
"Ah—cold, isn't it?" He tried laughing it off.
Zayn didn't turn, but his voice seemed to drop. "Stay behind me."
Luca swallowed, following behind.
Despite the water's strong dislike toward Luca, it had the decency not to drown him as they descended into its depths. As the water spiralled, Luca noticed something was off. It wasn't the same as the last time he'd been there. The flow directions weren't the same. They all converged towards one point—the vault.
"Director… Although it may be subtle for the time being," Luca said softly, "I believe the lake's mana is being drained. If I'm right about this, it may be the artifact's doing."
Zayn didn't say anything, just gestured for Luca to remain behind him again, hair gracefully spilling over his broad shoulders.
The underwater pathway was endless. Luca found every moment of it unbearable. His fingers twitched through the water. Telling himself it was merely a side effect of the enchanted waters, he inhaled deeply.
Strangely, his breath felt thinner. Too thin. However, it was not something Luca couldn't handle.
"I could've sworn this pathway was shorter the last time I came here…" Luca muttered, his smile tighter than usual.
"The path changes periodically," Zayn explained, glancing back at Luca for a brief second.
"Is it for safety reasons?" Luca beamed, glad that he finally received a reply. Zayn had an allergy to talking.
"Sure," Zayn said.
The moment Zayn's gaze wandered off Luca, he pressed a hand to his abdomen. It took all his self-control not to double over.
Don't be dramatic, Luca, he thought to himself. He couldn't be weak—not now. Not ever. He wasn't allowed to be weaker than necessary. Being human already weakened him significantly; who was he to add on to that?
"We've arrived," Zayn informed, turning toward Luca. He didn't even look like he'd been walking underwater. Worse, he was completely unbothered by everything.
"How does it feel to be the favourite? Is it fun?" Though it may come off as sarcastic, Luca's question was genuine.
"Is my job so unimportant that it needs to be fun?"
"Well, it's always good to have a little fun now and then," Luca muttered, water spilling from his hair onto his thoroughly soaked clothes.
When he heard no reply, he continued, "Bet I look like I showered with my clothes on, don't I?" He let out a hearty laugh, his smile widening despite his mild discomfort.
Ignoring Luca and his antics, Zayn activated the vault opening with his thumbprint. Two massive stone doors suspended upright in open water. They had no hinges and were covered in ancient symbols and seals. The water around the area was completely still. Dead still.
"Oh dear, these doors caused me great struggle during my last visit; it wouldn't hurt to be welcomed by the Lake," Luca murmured. He hated himself for still talking despite being completely ignored.
Zayn stepped forward. The doors didn't open; they were resisting him for some unknown reason. Uncrossing his arms, Zayn slightly narrowed his eyes at the door. His eyes were like silver blades. Unexpectedly, the runes seemed to shudder, possibly in fear. The doors began opening, disrupting the stillness of the water.
The vault was extremely spacious, likely enhanced by spatial magic. Artifacts, runes, codices, seals, and many more lined endless ancient shelves that soared up high. They were all historically important. Most were objects that Zayn himself had earned for TSL. The vault also contained foreign artifacts that were discovered during special cases with permission.
Pedestals lined a large, never-ending wall. Above each pedestal was a carving of the object that occupied it. Luca walked around, pushing through the pressure. It was as if he were still outside in the lake, except the vault consisted of air. Not water.
Eyes widening, Luca said, "The Elven artifact isn't floating above its designated pedestal—it has fallen."
"Strange." Zayn walked over, "Not only has it been producing inconsistent waves of mana, but its light has also been dimming, and now it no longer possesses enough mana to stay upright."
He was playing along with Luca. And Luca hated himself for not having a problem with it. It was strangely thoughtful of him—even if he didn't mean it that way.
"No other artifact has done this inside the vault; the assassin is far worse than I've been giving credit for." Luca took out his notebook, scratching at the pages. The lake had enough decency not to soak anything besides his hair and clothes.
"Do you feel anything different from it?"
Luca gulped, flashbacks of the fishy smell that had lingered with him earlier coming back to him. No—all of that was an illusion.
"N-no, if I did, I would tell you," he stammered, forcing a smile through his thinning breath.
One good night of sleep back at his house would fix everything. All he had to do was ask.
Thinking nothing of Luca's reaction, Zayn slipped on a pair of gloves and grabbed the necklace. Nothing. No light, no mana waves, no response. Suspicious.
"Director, may I see it?" Luca held out an open palm.
Zayn handed it over, crossing his arms. He crossed the room to check out some other things, but his attention did not leave Luca.
When Luca held onto the necklace, his fingers went numb. His legs suddenly felt like jelly. He heard a soft thud on the ground—it was his notebook. When had he dropped it?
The artifact was pulsing faintly in Luca's hands, subtly altering the air pressure around them. A sign it was critically low on mana, and it was draining the first thing it could—Luca was an easy source.
His fingers wouldn't stop tingling. He closed them anyway.
Shaking his head, Luca examined the artifact's rune cracks further. A low hum came from it, and the mana in the room dipped.
Luca felt as if all the oxygen in his body were leaving. His heart drummed hard against his rib cage, a metallic tang blooming in his mouth.
Alert, Zayn crossed the room in two long strides, grabbing Luca's wrist. And just like that, everything stopped. The artifact dimmed again, as if going dormant.
Zayn's grip was tight—too tight around his wrist. "You reckless human. Do not touch what you don't understand." His silver eyes carried a cold shine.
"I know," Luca said lightly. But he couldn't keep his gaze from seeping into Zayn's.
Zayn's jaw tightened. "Don't repeat it." His voice left no room for argument.
Luca beamed anyway, not breaking his gaze away even though he should've. "Can I… uh…" He didn't finish his question.
His body started moving as if it had a mind of its own before his mind could catch up to his actions.
"What sunshine—"
The rest of the protest was muffled as Luca threw himself around him. Zayn went rigid, like a statue being inconvenienced by ivy. His hand flexed involuntarily, as if he might've returned the hug. "What do you think you're—"
Luca squeezed tighter, laughing into his shoulder for a second, heat creeping up his face. "What, allergic to hugs, director?"
"What am I doing?" he thought internally.
Then his finger twitched. Once.
A subtle invisible pain knotted low in his stomach—deeper than pain, deeper than nerves—as if something inside him had been hooked and gently reeled, yet his smile didn't falter. It was taking all his self-control not to grimace.
Zayn shook his head and clicked his tongue, glaring. "Unhand me."
Luca stayed still for a second—until the pain dissipated. It didn't. "Worth it," Luca said lightly, stepping back carefully.
The step made his vision shake, but he blinked it away before Zayn could notice.
Zayn's attention was already elsewhere in the vault's interior. He did have his own workload—Luca didn't know why he was wasting time with him just because it involved the Elven kingdom. Luca was more than capable of doing this on his own.
He followed behind Zayn. One hand pressed briefly—secretly—to his abdomen.
The artifact behind them pulsed once.
Like it was breathing.