The metallic tang of blood still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of bleach as the henchmen worked tirelessly to clean the mess. Their movements were efficient, almost mechanical, but no amount of effort could erase the faint crimson stains that seeped into the cracks of the old floor.
Standing in the shadows, she observed them, her posture unyielding, her presence commanding. The dim light from the overhead lamp caught the faint scars peeking out from beneath the edges of her gloves, but the mask concealed the rest. Silent and still, she watched the process with an eerie detachment.
The Sovereign had trained her well.
She made no move, no sound, as the last of the blood was scrubbed away. Her eyes-hidden but intense-surveyed the room, ensuring every detail was accounted for. There was no hesitation, no flinch, no humanity left in her cold, calculating movements.
The faint sound of polished shoes echoed through the corridor, growing louder with each step. It was a confident rhythm, deliberate and unhurried.
She didn’t turn.
When the footsteps stopped, the room seemed to grow smaller, the air thicker.
“I wondered if I’d find you here,” a deep, familiar voice broke the silence. It was smooth, tinged with amusement and curiosity.
She didn’t respond.
Ezekiel Chen stepped further into the room, his sharp gaze sweeping over the scene before landing on her. His tailored suit was immaculate, his presence commanding. But there was something else in his expression-something deeper, sharper, as though he had stumbled upon a secret he was determined to uncover.
“You’ve been busy,” Ezekiel remarked, his voice casual, though his eyes didn’t waver. “Your reputation precedes you.”
She remained silent, her posture unchanged.
Ezekiel’s smile was faint but calculating as he stepped closer, his polished shoes tapping softly against the cleaned floor. “But you’re careful, aren’t you? Always in the shadows, always hidden. It’s almost like…” He tilted his head, studying her. “You’re afraid of being seen.”
At this, she shifted slightly, her head turning just enough to acknowledge him. Her gloved hands, resting at her sides, clenched imperceptibly.
“I’ve seen this before,” Ezekiel continued, his voice softer now, more probing. “That air of detachment, that silence-it’s familiar.”
She turned fully then, her movements slow and deliberate. Her masked face tilted upward, her hidden gaze meeting his.
“Leave,” she said, her voice low and cold, carrying an authority that silenced most.
Ezekiel smiled faintly, unfazed. “You’re not as invisible as you think.”
Her silence stretched, but Ezekiel wasn’t deterred. Instead, he took another step closer, his movements slow and deliberate. The proximity was calculated, his tone shifting to one of soft curiosity.
“You remind me of someone,” he said, his words gentle but deliberate. “Someone I thought I lost.”
She stiffened.
Ezekiel caught the subtle reaction, his sharp gaze narrowing slightly. He reached out, his hand moving with careful precision. Before she could step back, his fingers brushed her mask lightly, just enough to catch the edge.
She froze.
Ezekiel’s hands were steady as he cupped her face, his touch reverent. “You don’t have to hide,” he whispered, his voice soft and almost pleading.
The stillness between them was palpable, heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged emotions. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had paused, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.
But then, she moved.
With a swift, almost violent motion, she shoved Ezekiel back, her strength sending him staggering a few steps.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, her voice sharper now, carrying an edge that cut through the tension.
Ezekiel steadied himself, his expression unreadable as he watched her. His hands fell to his sides, but he didn’t move to retreat.
“I’m not wrong,” he said, his voice calm yet filled with quiet conviction. “You’re alive.”
She turned sharply, her cloak swishing behind her as she moved toward the exit. “Stay out of my way,” she warned without looking back, her tone colder than ever.
Ezekiel didn’t follow.
Instead, he stood there, watching as she disappeared into the shadows. His hand drifted to his chest, his fingers curling slightly as though he were trying to grasp the ghost of something that wasn’t there.
“She’s alive,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly as the realization fully sank in.
The cold smile that spread across his face then was equal parts relief and determination. His chest tightened with emotions he couldn’t name-grief, anger, hope, and an overwhelming sense of purpose.
For the first time in months, the hollow ache in his chest was replaced by something else.
He had found her. Or at least, he was certain he had.
And now, he wouldn’t stop until he knew the truth.