Ethan didn't believe in perfect plans.
Perfect plans failed.
They relied too much on control.
And right now—
He had none.
The map lay open in front of him, illuminated by the dim light above.
Every route.
Every checkpoint.
Every possible entry.
He had studied it all.
Memorized it.
Broken it apart in his mind.
Still—
It wasn't enough.
"They'll expect something like this," the girl said, leaning against the table.
Ethan didn't look up.
"I know."
"Then why do it anyway?"
Silence.
Then—
"Because waiting isn't an option."
She sighed.
"You're really going to do this."
"Yes."
"No backup."
"Yes."
"No guarantee you'll even find her there."
"Yes."
She shook her head.
"You've lost it."
Ethan finally looked at her.
"No," he said calmly.
"I just don't care what happens to me anymore."
That answer lingered.
Heavy.
Because it wasn't bravery.
It wasn't confidence.
It was something darker.
Something dangerous.
"Fine," she muttered. "Then let's at least make it less suicidal."
Ethan didn't respond.
But he didn't stop her either.
She pointed to the map again.
"Transport routes are your best chance," she said. "They're more vulnerable during movement."
Ethan's eyes sharpened.
"So we intercept."
"Yes."
She tapped a specific road.
"Here. It's isolated. Limited surveillance."
Ethan studied it carefully.
Angles.
Timing.
Distance.
Everything.
"When?" he asked.
"Tomorrow night."
His jaw tightened slightly.
Too soon.
But also—
Perfect.
Meanwhile—
Inside the facility—
Maya stood in the observation room.
Watching.
Learning.
Waiting.
The man in black stood beside her.
"You're adapting faster than expected," he said.
Maya didn't look at him.
"I don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice."
She turned slightly.
"Not when you take it away."
Silence.
Then—
"You're angry," he noted.
"Of course I am."
"Good."
That answer caught her off guard.
She frowned.
"Why would that be good?"
He looked at her.
"Because anger makes people useful."
Maya's jaw tightened.
"I'm not your weapon."
"Not yet," he said calmly.
That word—
Yet.
It lingered.
Heavy.
Threatening.
Maya looked away.
But inside—
Her mind was moving.
Fast.
Calculating.
Adapting.
She had learned something.
Something important.
Her ability wasn't just about seeing anymore.
It was about choosing.
Focusing.
Directing.
And if she could do that—
Then maybe—
She could find a way out.
Later that night—
Maya lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
But she wasn't resting.
She was thinking.
Planning.
Transport routes.
She had seen them.
In flashes.
In memories.
In the walls themselves.
Her fingers curled slightly.
If they moved her—
That would be her chance.
A small, almost invisible smile formed on her lips.