[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 4: You’ve done this before

Elias paced the living room in slow, uneven circles, with only the faint buzz of the overhead light to accompany him. The apartnt seed smaller now, with the air being too still and pressed in around the edges. His thoughts moved faster than his steps, looping, folding, and undoing themselves before he could choose one that felt like action.

He didn’t have a family he could call.

Not really.

His older sister was three countries away. She called once a year, if that, and only ever replied to ssages with a half-apology followed by I’m busy. He had stopped expecting anything else a long ti ago.

His parents had chosen their path years ago, as devout followers of the the God of Destruction. After their daughter was married off into sothing politically acceptable, they declared their work complete and began to worship full-ti. Elias had still been in school when they left. No dramatic goodbye. No fight. Just an emptied house and a ssage about sacrifice.

They didn’t check in.

Didn’t ask how he was doing.

Didn’t know he’d changed his field of study. Or that he was still trying to finish what he started, one grant and sleepless sester at a ti.

He stopped pacing and pressed a hand to the back of his neck. The muscles there were tight, tense from being wound too long. He exhaled slowly, fingers curling slightly into his skin. There was no one coming to help him, not from ho and definitely not from the Nun side.

He moved back to the couch and sat down slowly, elbows resting on his knees. The apartnt was dim now, the kind of late evening light that blurred the edges of things, softening them without making them feel any less sharp. He picked up his phone again and scrolled to a contact he hadn’t used in over a year.

Matteo Weller.

They’d gone to high school together. Matteo had flirted with him once, badly. Elias had turned him down just as badly, and sohow they’d stayed in touch. The man was a cop now, not in any impressive way, just soone who showed up on ti and answered the phone.

He tapped Call.

It rang twice.

Then, too cheerfully, "Elias?"

"Hi, Matt."

"I was just thinking about you the other day," Matteo said, too quickly. "You finally giving in and calling for that second coffee?"

Elias leaned back against the cushions and looked at the ceiling. "No."

Matteo laughed, not surprised. "Sha. What’s going on then?"

"I need a favor," Elias said. "Off the record."

That made the line go quiet for a second. Then Matteo’s voice returned, steadier. "Sure. What do you need?"

Elias stared at the wall for a mont, choosing his words carefully. "Say soone disappears. No ssage, no official leave, no signs of travel. Just gone. But their apartnt’s untouched, and their phone is still inside. What’s the quietest way to flag that?"

"Who’s the soone?" Matteo asked.

"Ruoxi Nun."

The silence stretched.

"That’s not nothing," Matteo said finally. "You sure you want to poke that family?"

"I’m not poking. I’m just trying to find my friend. And if they shut it down, at least I’ll know who’s paying attention."

"Fair," Matteo muttered. "If you file a missing person report with her na, it’ll get locked in the system. Automatically flagged. You’d lose control of the process the mont it hits submit."

"I figured."

"You can file a welfare check request anonymously. Log the address, say you haven’t seen the tenant, and don’t na her. It’s not airtight, but it moves under the radar. If soone tries to block it, I can trace the flag."

Elias rubbed the back of his neck again. His fingers paused at the base of his skull, then slid up through his hair, more a grounding motion than anything else.

"Does that work if I’m her roommate?"

Matteo hesitated. "Technically, no. But if you file it like you’re the neighbor who hasn’t heard movent in a few days, it gets logged without a direct connection. You’re not lying. Just... choosing the quietest truth."

Elias let out a slow breath. "You’ve done this before."

"Not for soone with the last na Nun."

"Right," Elias said. He leaned back into the couch, the springs shifting under him. "Then let’s be very quiet."