He stood among the workers, dressed in clean, elegant robes that set him apart without isolating him. His posture was relaxed, his movements measured as he gestured toward a set of crates being unloaded.
"Not there," he said, his tone calm but firm. "Stack them along the inner wall. Leave space for the next shipment."
The workers adjusted immediately, moving with a kind of efficiency that suggested familiarity rather than fear.
Vaelira watched him for a moment, then leaned slightly toward Lysira. "He doesn't look like someone who panics."
"He did," Lysira said quietly. "At the end."
"Maybe we imagined it," Vaelira murmured.
"No," Lysira replied. "We didn't."
They fell silent again, observing.
Daruis moved through the space with ease, occasionally stopping to speak with a worker, adjusting something here, redirecting something there. Nothing about him felt rushed, nothing out of place.
Too clean.
"Either he's very good at pretending," Vaelira said, "or we caught him on a bad day."
"Or both," Lysira replied.
Eventually, he turned and walked toward a smaller attached structure at the back of the warehouse.
"Office," Vaelira said.
Lysira nodded.
They watched as he entered, the door closing behind him, cutting off the last visible trace of him.
"Now we wait," Lysira said.
Vaelira leaned back slightly, settling in. "My favorite part."
The hours passed slowly.
The workers continued their tasks, the rhythm of the warehouse steady and predictable. One by one, as the light faded, they began to leave, conversations low, movements unhurried.
By the time night settled fully over the town, the building stood quiet.
Empty.
Lysira stood first.
"Let's go," she said.
Vaelira pushed herself up with a small stretch. "Finally."
They moved without hesitation, crossing the distance quickly, slipping through the shadows and into the warehouse without a sound. The door gave just enough to let them inside, the darkness swallowing them as soon as they passed the threshold.
No workers.
No noise.
Just the faint echo of a place recently occupied.
Their eyes adjusted quickly, the layout already mapped from earlier observation. Crates lined the walls exactly as instructed, leaving clear paths between them..
Lysira glanced toward the office door at the back. Vaelira followed her gaze, a faint grin forming. "Round two?"
Lysira didn't respond. She was already moving.
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The office door gave way without resistance, opening into a space that felt too composed for what it contained, the kind of order that wasn't maintained for comfort but for control, with shelves lined neatly along the walls, documents stacked with deliberate precision, and a desk positioned in such a way that anyone entering would be seen before they had the chance to speak. Lysira stepped in first, her movement slow and measured as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, her senses reaching outward in quiet habit, searching for the subtle inconsistencies that often betrayed a hidden presence. Vaelira followed a step behind, closing the door just enough to keep the outside darkness from spilling in while still leaving them an exit if needed, her gaze already sweeping across corners, ceiling beams, the space behind the desk, every angle accounted for without a single wasted motion. There was no immediate sign of anyone else in the room, no breath out of place, no shift in air that suggested movement, and yet something about the stillness felt deliberate, as though it had been arranged for them rather than left behind.
"Clear," Vaelira murmured, though the word lacked certainty.
Lysira didn't answer right away, her attention drawn instead to the figure seated behind the desk.
Sir Monroe.
He hadn't looked up.
A sheet of paper rested loosely in his hand, his posture relaxed in a way that didn't match the situation, as if their presence had been expected long before they arrived, as if this moment had already played out in his mind and the outcome no longer interested him. The faintest shift of his fingers adjusted the paper, and only then did he speak, his tone calm, almost bored, carrying through the room without effort.
"You finally came," he said, as though commenting on something overdue rather than acknowledging two assassins standing within striking distance.
Neither sister moved immediately, though the tension between them sharpened, subtle but unmistakable.
Vaelira's eyes narrowed slightly, her grip on the dagger at her side tightening just enough to register intent. "You were expecting us," she said, not quite a question.
Daruis let out a quiet breath, something that might have been a laugh if it carried any warmth. "It would have been disappointing if you didn't," he replied, still not looking up, his attention seemingly fixed on the paper in his hand. "After all that effort, I assumed you'd be eager to correct your mistake."
That was enough to draw his gaze.
Lysira stepped forward slightly, just enough to bring herself fully into his line of sight, her posture steady despite the lingering injury beneath her clothing. "You survived," she said, her voice even, controlled.
Daruis's eyes lifted then, meeting hers with an ease that felt almost insulting. There was no fear there, no tension, just a quiet awareness that bordered on amusement. "Barely, if your memory needs reassurance," he said, his lips curving faintly. "Though I imagine you remember that part quite clearly."
Vaelira exhaled sharply through her nose, shifting her weight as she angled herself slightly to the side, already preparing for movement. "You talk a lot for someone who ran," she said.
Daruis tilted his head just slightly, considering that. "And you chase a lot for someone who fails," he replied without missing a beat.
That landed.
The air tightened.
Lysira didn't rise to it, though the faintest shift in her stance suggested she had noted it. "You've prepared for this," she said instead, her eyes flicking briefly toward the edges of the room before returning to him.
"Of course," Daruis said simply, lowering the paper at last and letting it rest against the desk. "You're persistent, I'll give you that. Predictable, but persistent."
Vaelira's smile sharpened slightly. "You keep saying that like it's an advantage."
"It is," he replied, leaning back slightly in his chair, his posture loosening even further. "Predictability makes things easier to manage."
Lysira's gaze didn't waver. "And yet you're still here."
"Am I?" he asked softly.
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A/N: Here are some Bonus chapter arrangements based on the support. Thanks for reading
10 power stones= 5 Bonus chapters
20 power stones= 10 Bonus chapters
3 golden ticket= 15 Bonus chapters