Erick watched the mobsters leave the area in an orderly line, their heavy boots echoing against the cracked concrete of the warehouse, their rifles swinging from their shoulders as Penguin walked ahead, his top hat slightly tilted, the cigar still smoldering between his chubby fingers. The metal doors creaked shut behind them, the metallic sound reverberating through the vast empty space, until only the distant dripping of leaks in the ceiling and the heavy silence that settled like a fog remained. Now, only he and Jade stood there—two figures in the shadows, separated by meters of dirty floor and stacked boxes.
Erick let gravity do its work. He released his hands from the rusty beam, his body falling freely for almost six meters, the air whistling in his ears like an urgent whisper. At the last instant, before touching the ground, he rolled perfectly—shoulder first, his body spinning in a fluid movement learned in hundreds of virtual nights with Sensei, absorbing the impact silently, the fine sand of the floor cushioning the noise like a living carpet. He rose slowly, stopping in the center of the now empty space, illuminated only by a hanging lamp that swayed slightly in the breeze, projecting dancing shadows on the peeling walls.
Jade perceived the movement instantly. Her assassin instincts, honed by the League of Shadows since childhood, sped off like an internal alarm. She executed a perfect somersault, her slender, athletic body spinning in the air with feline grace, her green kimono billowing like silk in the wind, revealing for an instant her shapely thighs and the subtle scars of past battles. Upon landing, her bare feet touching the concrete in absolute silence, she unsheathed her sabers in a fluid, crisscrossing motion—the curved blades emerging from their ornate sheaths with a clean, sharp metallic hiss, the tips gleaming coldly in the dim light, reflecting the moonlight filtering through the cracks. The Cheshire mask, with its narrow, blood-red eyes, concealed her face, but her body betrayed everything: defensive posture, shoulders straight, legs slightly apart, the kimono adjusting to her body with the movement, revealing the tension in her thigh and abdominal muscles.
Erick didn't raise his guard. In fact, he was calm there, his arms loose at his sides, his posture relaxed as if he were having a casual conversation on her rooftop, his breathing controlled and deep. The wind entered through the open doors, gently stirring the dust on the floor and making the fabric of his uniform ripple subtly. Jade spoke first, her voice low, and spoke of a restrained threat, her sarcastic tone echoing in the empty shed like the purring of a panther: "Well, well, well. Looks like we have an intruder."
She stepped forward, sabers still drawn, her posture straightening—shoulders straight, legs slightly apart, the green kimono adjusting to her body with the movement, revealing the firm curve of her breasts and the defined line of her waist. But it was evident that in her eyes, hidden by the slits of the mask, there was genuine surprise and immediate recognition. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, her pupils dilating, the whites around them becoming visible. Erick perceived this just by looking into her eyes—the shock of seeing his sister's boyfriend there, in the middle of a negotiation she believed to be secret. Internally, Jade questioned everything: how did he know? Had Artemis leaked the information? Or was it something worse, a tracker he had implanted in her during one of the training sessions? The hesitation was there—a slight tremor in the tips of the sabers, her gaze shifting for a fraction of a second to the side, the internal conflict visible even through the cat mask.
Erick didn't smile. With a precise thought, he entered the mental command and his helmet retracted into his robes—fluid metal plates sliding smoothly into the reinforced collar, revealing his face: pale skin lightly tanned by the recent sun, tousled black hair falling over his forehead in strands damp with sweat, intense and calm blue eyes, like deep oceans concealing storms. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest, his posture relaxed yet imposing, and spoke, his voice firm but without aggression, laden with a sincerity that cut through the air: "Jade, I know it's you. Take off the mask."
He perceived in her posture that she had been caught off guard—her body stiffening like a taut rope, her sabers involuntarily lowering an inch, her breath faltering for an instant, her chest rising and falling faster beneath her green kimono. After all, even though she and her sister had already spoken to him about his involvement with the underworld, she had never, ever, revealed who she was. Her feline face remained motionless, but her body betrayed everything. So much so that she began to question herself internally: if it was Artemis who leaked the information, if it was her mother, how did he get this information? Did he implant some kind of tracker in her during one of the training sessions on the roof? And this question hammered in her mind like a distant drum, visible in the slight narrowing of her eyes behind the mask.
She gave a sarcastic laugh, the short, dry sound echoing in the empty shed like the click of a blade being sharpened, and removed her mask with a slow, deliberate gesture, revealing a handsome, sharp face: skin tanned by the sun of past missions, piercing brown eyes like polished daggers, thin lips curved in a cold, calculating smile that didn't reach her eyes. Long black hair fell in waves over her shoulders, framing her face with a dangerous beauty. "You're handsome, you have some skills I didn't expect."
After all, she had only approached him a few times when he and her sister were training together—brief casual encounters on the roof, quick glances exchanged during breaks, never a real or deep conversation. She saw him as "her sister's boyfriend," a smart but harmless boy, someone Artemis protected with an affection Jade would never admit to envying.
Erick crossed his arms more firmly, the muscles of his forearms bulging beneath the sleeves of his uniform, and spoke in a calm, direct voice, without raising his tone, but carrying a gravity that filled the room: "You know you're on a dangerous path, Jade. The path you're treading will only lead to more pain and suffering for your family and for yourself."
Jade gave a low laugh, the guttural, bitter sound echoing off the rusty beams of the shed, the green kimono shifting with the movement of her shoulders, revealing for an instant the thin scar that crossed her collarbone—a reminder of an old mission. "You think I don't know? Child, I've been in this longer than you imagine. You think I don't know the path I'm treading?"
She gave a bitter smile, the sabers still in her hands, but now lowered, the blades pointing to the ground as if they had lost their function, her body relaxing slightly, but still ready for combat. "Let me give in to this attraction."
She lowered her sabers completely, sheathing them with a soft, final metallic click, and continued, her voice taking on a cynical resignation tone that didn't entirely conceal the weariness beneath: "But don't pity my soul. I made peace with that a long time ago."
Erick spoke, his voice soft but firm, his blue eyes fixed on her brown ones without blinking, as if he could see beyond the assassin and perceive his weary older sister: "It doesn't have to be this way."
Jade continued, her tone laden with cynical resignation, but with a subtle hint of doubt: "Why bother? I've killed people before. You're a... hero, theoretically you should arrest me, right?"
Erick didn't smile at her, his face serious, his voice firm and impartial, laden with a sincerity that cut like a sharp blade: "I'm not that kind of hero. If it weren't for Batman and Superman, as well as the League, I'd approach things from a different angle."
Jade was about to laugh; she basically understood what he said, the short, bitter sound echoing off the rafters, recognizing the parallel between them—she trapped in the League of Shadows, with a knife to her throat and her family's, and he with the shackles of justice binding him, but with one difference: he fought against them. "Ah, so you're trapped too. How lovely, two people united by fate."
She laughed, the sound echoing, recognizing the parallel between them—she trapped in the League of Shadows, with a knife to her throat and her family's, and he with the shackles of justice binding him.
Erick gave a slight, almost sad smile and said, "Similar? Yes, but... at the same time, so opposite. Do you think I'll accept this situation? I will fight to the end to free myself, to have freedom. Unfortunately for you, who accepted your fate."
At that moment, Jade's face hardened, her eyes solidified like polished steel, her posture became rigid, her shoulders rose slightly in a defensive gesture, her green kimono stretched across her chest as her breathing quickened. "You know nothing, girl. You just arrived in this world and you want to tell me what to do?"
Erick didn't smile at her, his face serious, his voice firm, his blue eyes piercing like lasers: "Better to be the crest of a rooster than a pony's tail. I will fight to build my independence, I will fight to have my freedom. And what will you do? Will you accept it? Will you continue working with the League of Shadows?"
And at that moment she trembled almost imperceptibly, because not even her sister knew who she really worked for. She only theoretically worked as a mercenary assassin. How did this boy get this information? The question burned in her mind, visible in the slight narrowing of her eyes behind the mask she had already removed, her lips contracting into a thin line.
She spoke, her voice low and sharp like a blade being unsheathed: "How did you get this kind of information?"
Erick gave a slight, enigmatic smile, the corners of his mouth curving without revealing anything: "It's a secret. Maybe I'll tell you someday."
He paused, his gaze direct and penetrating, and continued, his voice gaining weight, laden with a genuine offer, without pressure: "Interesting, so you're trying to help me? Because, from what I see, you're just talking nonsense. Even having privileged information, I don't know how you got it, it's impressive. But nothing that can change my... your situation now."In my opinion, you're just talking nonsense.
Erick spoke, his voice gaining weight, his eyes fixed on hers without flinching, as if offering not just help, but a real way out: "There are... ways for you to get out of this situation. I'm going to make you an offer, and I want you to consider it carefully."
Erick took the card from his utility belt—a small, matte black card, the size of a credit card, with an encrypted number engraved in iridescent silver that shimmered faintly in the dim light, the material transformed to be waterproof and untraceable—and handed it to her, calmly extending his arm, his palm open in a gesture of peace. "If you're interested, when you go to deliver the weapons to Penguin, call me and I can help you."
He said this looking into her eyes, his voice low but sincere, without pressure, just a genuine offer, the wind blowing lightly between them, stirring her green kimono and the fabric of his uniform.
She smiled like that, almost amused, the corner of her mouth curving in a sarcastic arc, but her eyes betrayed a deep inner conflict— Doubt, suppressed hope, fear of believing: "How cute."
And how would you do that?
Erick offered a calm, confident smile, his blue eyes shining with a determination that admitted no defeat: "First you need to accept, to trust. I know it will sound ridiculous coming from a young man like me, but know that... I can help you. If we're interested, just call me. Of course, you need to actively choose to change your life. Do you accept?"
At that moment, Erick saw that she fell silent, looking at his card in her hand, her fingers slowly rotating it between her thumb and forefinger, the cold material against her warm skin. She looked into his eyes and he looked into hers, the silence stretching like a fragile bridge between two opposing worlds. She gave a slow, almost defiant smile, her lips curving in an arc that mixed irony and a spark of genuine curiosity: "Okay, handsome." "I'll think about your case."
And at that instant, she opened one hand and a ball of smoke fell from it—a small black sphere that touched the ground and exploded into a dense white cloud that filled the shed in seconds, the acrid smell of chemical fumes invading the air, obscuring everything in an impenetrable veil. When the smoke slowly dissipated, revealing the empty space and the particles still suspended in the air like dirty snow, she had completely disappeared, leaving no trace—no footprints in the sand, no sound of footsteps, only the cold wind blowing through the open doors, carrying away the last vestige of her presence.
Erick stood in the same place, staring at the empty space where she had been, the wind gently caressing his dark hair, and spoke softly, with a half-smile that mixed admiration and resignation:"Ninjas are always so dramatic."
He stood there for a few more seconds, the now-empty warehouse echoing in absolute silence, save for the distant dripping of a leak in the ceiling and the distant sound of the harbor waves. The card he had offered was now in her hands, a seed planted in arid soil, and Erick knew the next step would be hers. He activated the internal communicator, the calm voice echoing to Artemis: "Mission accomplished here. I'll meet you at home."
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