Isaac's head jerked toward the door the moment Noctis entered the room. For a moment, only the faint creak of the hinges lingered in the air, then their eyes met. Noctis shot Moz an annoyed sideways glance.
"Well, as I can see, the two of you get along splendidly," he hissed dryly, his words sharp with sarcasm.
Moz exhaled audibly, as if he had expected exactly that reaction, then turned to Noctis with calm composure.
"We actually do get along very well. Isaac is quite pleasant to talk to—unlike certain other individuals." His voice remained even, but the barb was unmistakable. He smoothed his jacket, walked past Noctis, and paused once more at the door. A brief glance back at Isaac, softer this time. "See you tomorrow morning. And don't forget to eat something, Isaac."
"Tomorrow," Isaac replied curtly.
The door clicked shut, and with it, Moz's presence vanished from the room.
They really don't get along at all, Isaac thought.
Noctis hadn't moved an inch. He was still standing where he had stopped upon entering, studying Isaac with a mix of irritation and something Isaac couldn't immediately place.
"He's really terrible at putting on a simple bandage," he finally scoffed.
"He's trying. Just leave him alone," Isaac replied with a quiet sigh.
A twitch passed over Noctis's mouth. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to respond, but instead his gaze drifted over Isaac's upper body. The tension left his face, replaced by undisguised concern.
"You've lost weight," he said more quietly.
Determined, Isaac grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on. He definitely didn't want Noctis looking at him. There was too much standing between them—and even more they needed to talk about. Closeness was the last thing he wanted to allow right now.
"Not exactly surprising after a gunshot wound," he muttered defensively.
"Speaking of that," Noctis began, grimacing as if the very thought irritated him. "That cop was here?"
Isaac gave a short nod. "He was."
"What did he want?"
Isaac's gaze narrowed noticeably. "None of your business," he hissed.
"It very much is my business if—!", Noctis flared up.
Isaac shot him an angry look.
"I have a few questions for you. Answer them or leave," he cut in coolly. "Otherwise I'll ask your brother."
A quiet curse slipped from Noctis. The anger in his face gave way to something else—uncertainty, maybe even desperation. His shoulders slumped slightly.
"Damn it, Isaac… If you'd just give me one chance to explain everything…" His voice was noticeably softer now, carrying a pleading undertone.
"You're getting your chance, so be quiet and answer the questions I ask."
Noctis looked at him, uncertain. Finally, he nodded.
"I'll do anything you want," he said seriously. "If afterward you can trust me a little more again."
At least he made Isaac feel like he meant it. This time, at least. As strong as Isaac's guilt toward Noctis was, his anger was stronger.
"Then kneel before me," Isaac ordered coolly.
If Noctis really wanted to atone, he should feel it.
Noctis blinked in confusion. "What?"
"You heard me. If you're ready to do everything I say, then kneel," Isaac said coldly.
Noctis exhaled. He didn't even look half as annoyed about the humiliation Isaac was demanding. Somehow it irritated Isaac that he offered no resistance. Usually he was always so hot-tempered.
You're not usually this easy to tame…
Damn idiot.
Isaac involuntarily held his breath as Noctis began to move. Step by step he came closer, until he stopped about a meter in front of him—and then, without another word, sank to his knees. He looked up at him expectantly.
"Ask your questions, darling," he said softly.
Isaac's hand clenched into a fist. An uncomfortable pull spread through his chest—emptiness and longing at once. The yearning for Noctis's closeness was still there, stubborn as an echo that refused to fade. Why was it so hard to keep his distance?
Why did part of him want to hold on to him at the same time, pull him closer, never let him go?
The trust he had built with Noctis over so long had developed deep cracks. He was afraid to let him get close again.
He had to keep his distance if he wanted to think clearly.
Noctis's lies had scarred his soul like deep cuts.
And you always knew how much I hate being lied to…
"Don't call me by that nickname," Isaac hissed quietly.
Noctis looked at him, hurt, then averted his gaze. "Sorry…," he said softly. "So? What do you want to know?"
Isaac stared at him for a moment longer. He wasn't used to seeing Noctis this submissive. Was that just another lie too? A façade to make himself seem vulnerable—so Isaac would give in and forgive him?
You can forget that.
Though, he had to admit, there was a certain satisfaction in looking down on him.
"What's going on in the underworld?" he asked coolly.
He had to start somewhere with his questions, and as much as he wanted to talk about Noah's killer… there was still so much else weighing on him.
Noctis exhaled slowly. "You'll have to be a bit more specific. There's a lot happening."
"Then start with you and your brother."
A brief hesitation. "We keep the city clean."
Isaac's gaze hardened. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I'll need to give a bit of context," he said, dragging the words out slightly. He muttered a quiet curse. "Vincent could explain this a lot better."
"Then give me the short version," Isaac said impatiently.
"Alright," Noctis replied, not taking his eyes off him. "We kill anyone who threatens the peace of this city."
That sounded far too noble for a killer like Noctis.
"Why?"
Noctis tilted his head. "Because we've always made sure the balance of power stays intact. Not just here in Magnolia, but across the entire continent."
Isaac crossed his arms. "I always thought the Webster clan was just a bunch of bloodthirsty lunatics carrying out contract killings as a shadow guild."
"Sometimes we do that too," Noctis said. "But more often, we track down the worst of our beloved criminals—and eliminate them."
Noctis's expression darkened.
"You're not seriously still trying to see something good in him, are you?" he asked in disbelief.
Isaac avoided his gaze. For a moment, he said nothing.
"It's hard for me to just believe all of this," he finally admitted quietly.
"Isaac. The man you've considered a saint all these years is just about the worst evil in this city. He didn't just kill our parents—he killed yours too. He's manipulated you all this time and run so many side operations it would make your head spin if you knew everything."
Isaac's eyes narrowed.
"Tell me more," he growled. "At least try."
But Noctis slowly shook his head. "No. Words aren't enough here." His gaze grew more intense. "You need to see it."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Isaac asked, now clearly suspicious.
An uneasy feeling spread through him. Whatever Noctis was planning—he didn't like it.
"He has a safe," Noctis said.
Isaac let out a quiet scoff. "And? That hardly surprises me. As far as I know, he owns several."
Noctis held his gaze. "The one I mean is well hidden in the estate, and it can only be opened the old-fashioned way. That's why I haven't been able to get to the documents we need yet. Help me open it, and see for yourself what he's been doing."
Isaac raised an eyebrow, staring down at Noctis. Despite his anger, he noticed a certain excitement in him.
Does he actually like kneeling in front of me? Perverted bastard.
"Why should I help you? Is this just another one of your grand lies?"
"Isaac," Noctis said calmly. "I'm not lying to you. I'll show you everything and explain it once we're there. I'll show you what the Boss did to you. I'll show you why your parents were killed and why you ended up in the orphanage."
Isaac fell silent, considering what Noctis had proposed. If he helped him open that safe, he would be playing right into his and his brother's hands. But if he got information about his parents in return, it was a good deal—especially if he found out what the Boss was really doing. Isaac had never truly cared about that before.
Slowly, he exhaled.
"Why should I believe you? You could have prepared information to mislead me. You could be setting up false accusations just to make me believe you!"
For a brief moment, fear flickered in Noctis's eyes. Then he looked at him, hurt.
"I may not have told you everything," he began. "But I never lied to you, Isaac."
"You kept it from me that you're a mage. You kept it from me that you're a spy for the Webster clan! You never told me who I am or where my roots lie—even though you were by my damn side for seventeen years!" Isaac shouted at him. His eyes burned betraying him.
"Darling…"
Noctis shifted a little closer to him.
"Stop…," Isaac pressed out.
"Please…"
Noctis leaned forward slightly, his hand lifting hesitantly. For a fleeting moment, his fingers hovered close to Isaac's thigh. With a quick motion, Isaac slapped his hand away. If Noctis touched him now, he wouldn't be able to focus on anything but him.
"Stop it, Noctis!" he snapped.
Silence.
Slowly, Noctis withdrew his hand and sat back on his heels again. This time, he kept his distance.
Isaac's voice was quieter, more fragile as he continued. "What else was a lie?"
He swallowed hard.
"You said you were an orphan. Like me. That the Boss took you in… just like he did me." His voice lost its firmness. "We grew up together. We trained together. Our first assignments… we carried them out together."
A tear ran down Isaac's cheek.
"I trusted you blindly! I trusted no one as much as I trusted you…"
Noctis lowered his gaze briefly before looking back up at Isaac.
"I wasn't allowed to talk to you about any of it. We were afraid you had been manipulated, and your loyalty to the Boss was always so strong that I couldn't tell you anything. Until recently, you were so focused on carrying out your job—and everything connected to the Boss—with absolute perfection," Noctis said quietly.
This time, Isaac didn't interrupt him.
For a brief moment, only the sound of their breathing filled the room.
"My feelings for you were never a lie, Isaac," he said calmly. "Not even once."
Isaac wiped a hand roughly over his face, as if that could remove more than just the tear.
"I can't trust you anymore," he said quietly. He had to change the subject. The way Noctis was looking at him made him want nothing more than to fall into his arms and seek the sense of safety the man before him had given him for so long. "What about the Viper Syndicate?"
Noctis blinked, visibly surprised by the abrupt shift.
"They're a bunch of quarrelsome idiots. Their boss is competing with the head of the Leviathan Cartel and wants to tip the balance of power in his favor. We don't know how many members they have, but we've already dismantled some of their operations."
Isaac gave a faint nod. "…and Levi?"
Noctis shook his head. "Nothing concrete yet. Vincent managed to plant a spy. We're waiting for usable information."
Isaac's hand clenched into a fist again.
"I'll let you know as soon as we find out anything. I promise."
A bitter thought shot through his mind.
Your promises don't mean anything anymore.
He didn't say it out loud. Instead, he just nodded curtly, without looking at Noctis.
A brief silence followed before Isaac asked the next question—quieter, more cautious.
"…who would benefit from Noah's death?" Isaac asked softly.
Noctis looked at him, surprised.
"The entire underworld has very good reasons to kill him," he replied. "He's the son of the boss of the Leviathan Cartel. Quite a few people wanted him dead for that alone. And naturally, his death leaves the succession unclear."
Isaac swallowed.
"…who killed him?" he asked quietly. "You know, don't you?"
Noctis looked at him with guilt.
"We did," he said. "If you want the exact truth: Moz. He may be an annoying idiot, but he's the best sniper we have."
Isaac stared at him, shocked.
"…what? Why would you… Noah…?" he asked in disbelief. He shot to his feet in one swift motion. "You've known him since you were children! How could you just let him be killed?!"
His breathing turned fast, uneven.
How could Noctis state so calmly that they had killed a young man who hadn't even reached twenty yet? And Noah had always looked up to him—he had been his role model.
Noctis met his gaze without flinching.
"Because it was necessary," he replied evenly. "Besides, I had nothing to do with his death. He didn't die by my hand, nor did I do anything that helped it happen."
Isaac's gaze sharpened.
"Did you know?" he asked. "When we carried out the heist? Or even before that?"
A brief hesitation. Then Noctis grimaced—and nodded.
"Vincent gave me a few assignments a week before the heist. Noah was part of it, but Vincent had already given the job to Moz," he explained calmly. "I didn't even read through Noah's file."
The words faded, but Isaac's thoughts were already racing.
If they had eliminated Noah to destabilize the Leviathan Cartel, then that meant—
His throat went dry.
"…what are you planning to do with the Boss?"
Noctis's expression darkened noticeably.
"Remove him," Noctis said. "We'll destroy him publicly and then let the cops do the rest. If his operations are exposed and dismantled, no one will be able to just take them over."
Isaac sat back down on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he had no words; he needed time to process what he'd just heard.
Noctis exhaled slowly.
"Vincent is much better at explaining this than I am, but the underworld is boiling. They all want to see the Leviathan Cartel fall and fill the power vacuum. The Viper Syndicate is pretty far ahead, but other smaller clans are already lining up as well."
"Sounds like a war is coming," Isaac scoffed, tense.
"You're not wrong," Noctis admitted. "Listen, Isaac. We've spent years working to expose all of the Boss's operations. All we're missing now are his bank records and transaction documents. And he'll definitely have a few IOUs stashed away as well."
He straightened up slightly, even though he was still kneeling. An uncertain smile flickered across his face.
"Come with me and help me get that data. Look at everything yourself and decide whether we hand over the documents or not. It's in your hands."
Isaac's heart began to beat faster.
He couldn't truly imagine that the Boss was involved in something on that scale behind the scenes. It simply wouldn't fit in his mind, how far all of this had gone.
He didn't have many options.
He could disappear and leave everything behind—without ever learning the truth about himself and the Boss.
Or he could stay, get answers to all his questions, and then leave.
His gaze rested on Noctis. His chest felt hollow when he looked at him. All the moments and memories they had shared over the past months surfaced again.
He couldn't leave yet.
"Okay…," he said at last. "But once we have the documents, I'm gone."
Desperation flickered across Noctis's face. "I don't want to lose you, Isaac."
Noctis moved toward him again. The expression on his face hurt to look at. Isaac felt empty, hollowed out. Despite everything, he didn't want to see Noctis like this. He wanted to leave, to abandon everything—but there was that nagging feeling that he would bitterly regret it.
Isaac pressed his lips together.
He still loved Noctis. Despite all the lies, despite the fact that he was the enemy.
With his foot, he stopped Noctis, preventing him from coming closer, pushing him back slightly.
He didn't want to lose Noctis either.
But the pain from all the lies weighed heavier. Isaac would need a fresh start once this was over.
First the Boss, then I leave.
Isaac exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.
"Get Vincent," he said quietly. "Have him heal me. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible."
Noctis didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on Isaac, searching—as if hoping for a different answer, a retraction, anything.
Then he leaned forward slightly.
Instead of moving closer, he carefully rested his face against Isaac's lower leg—a quiet, almost wordless gesture that asked for nothing and yet said everything.
"Okay…," he murmured.