Kendrick’s car ca to a stop in front of the apartnt building. For a mont, he simply sat behind the wheel, staring at the familiar door. His chest tightened, every breath heavier than the last. When he finally stepped out, his feet felt like they were weighed down by stones.
He stood in front of the apartnt door, his hand hovering over the knob but refusing to touch it. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, bracing himself for whatever waited inside. His mind raced with thoughts. What should I say? How do I face her now? Will she accept , knowing I’m Obscura? Will she turn away?
Minutes passed before he finally gathered enough courage. He twisted the knob and pushed the door open.
The living room lights were on. Sitting quietly on the couch was Zephany. She lifted her head at the sound of the door and their eyes t. For a mont, the world seed to pause.
Kendrick walked toward her, each step heavy, but his gaze never leaving hers. When he reached the couch, she gave a small nod, silently telling him to sit. He lowered himself beside her. Silence filled the room, thick and awkward, neither knowing how to start.
Finally, Kendrick broke it with a soft, trembling voice. "Zeph."
She did not look at him. Instead, her eyes fixed on the far wall, as though waiting for him to continue.
"I’m sorry," Kendrick said, voice low but firm. "For not being honest about my identity."
Zephany’s head turned slightly. She t his gaze at last, her eyes glimring with mixed emotions. "I’m at fault too. I did the sa." Her voice was soft, almost fragile. "Sorry for that."
Kendrick swallowed, his throat dry. "I... I don’t really know what to say. But these past days, without you around, I realized how much I like being with you. Zeph, even if you are Eclipse, I still like you. I an... I really like you. I want to be with you, whoever you are."
Zephany stared at him, searching his expression, and what she found there made her heart ache. His sincerity was plain in his eyes, steady and unshaken. A single tear slid down her cheek as she whispered, "Ken..."
She moved closer, her arms wrapping around him in a sudden embrace. "I’m sorry for avoiding you last week," she cried softly. "But please don’t leave . I don’t want to lose you. Ken, I really like you. This place feels too empty without you. I missed you so much." Her words broke between sobs, her arms clinging tighter to him.
They held each other for a long while, both feeling the warmth they had been deprived of during their silent separation.
Kendrick pulled back gently, his hands cupping her cheeks as he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. His voice was tender. "Don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I won’t leave you again."
Zephany gazed at him as he wiped her tears, her lips quivering before she whispered, "Obscura."
Kendrick’s mouth twitched as he stared at her. "For so reason, hearing you say that na with your real voice feels strange."
Zephany blinked, frowning. She slapped his arm lightly. "What do you an?"
Kendrick smirked teasingly. "You always called that with anger in your voice, lowering it to sound like a man. It never really registered that the voice ca from the beautiful face of my wife. You disguised yourself as a man so often, and maybe only three tis as a woman. So I got used to hearing ’Obscura’ in a man’s tone."
Zephany’s mouth twitched at his words. "Are you complinting for my disguises or insulting ?" She narrowed her eyes at him in mock threat.
Kendrick raised his hands quickly in defense. "No, wife. I’m saying you’re the best in disguise. Your voice sounded natural. Unlike —I still needed a device to change mine."
The word "wife" made Zephany’s cheeks warm. Relief washed over her, realizing that even after knowing she was Eclipse, he still wanted her as his wife. But then another thought struck her, and her expression shifted. This man—this gentle, kind husband—was also that silent, maddening Obscura who always ignored her. Her chest tightened with a mix of frustration and fondness.
Kendrick noticed every subtle change on her face. He gulped nervously and muttered under his breath, "Won are really hard to understand."
Zephany heard him. Her eyes narrowed again. "What do you an?"
"Nothing, wife," Kendrick replied instantly, forcing a quick smile. "I just can’t believe I married my secret partner in cri."
They both looked at each other and laughed quietly, their thoughts drifting back to the day Cassius had offered them the contract marriage.
"No wonder Cassius got you involved," Zephany said, shaking her head. "I thought you were just a desperate artist in need of help."
Kendrick chuckled. "And I thought you were just a struggling journalist, desperate to keep her job."
Almost at the sa ti, they both said, "The secret clause."
Their eyes widened. They stared at each other.
"Your dad!" they both blurted out in unison.
Silence followed as they processed it. Then they both looked away, staring blankly into the distance.
Kendrick broke the quiet. "Are you... that girl from twelve years ago?" His mory was hazy—he recalled a girl with black wavy hair, but Zephany’s was now dyed red. The encounter had been brief, under dim lights, and the girl’s face had blurred over ti.
Zephany froze at the question. Her chest tightened as old mories flooded back. After a pause, she finally whispered, "So... you were that boy."
Guilt weighed heavy in both their hearts as the past ca crashing in. Almost at the sa ti, their lips ford the words, "I’m sorry."
Their eyes t again, each one reflecting the pain of old wounds.
"I’m sorry I failed to save you," Kendrick said first, his voice low and rough.
Zephany shook her head quickly. "No, it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry for dragging you into that ss."
The tension between them thickened, threatening to drown the mont. Kendrick forced a smile, breaking it with a lighter tone. "Seems like we’re really fated to be together."
Zephany let out a small laugh, the heaviness lifting slightly. She nodded. "Yeah, exactly."
Before either of them could say more, both of their phones buzzed at the sa ti. The familiar notification from The Archive app appeared on their screens.
A mission.
They exchanged looks, the silence now laced with determination. Without speaking, they opened the ssage together.
---
On the other side of the city, the sa building where Eclipse and Obscura once carried out their Level 7 mission stood eerily silent.
The top floor was dimly lit, a long table stretched across the center of the room. Seated around it were five n, their figures rigid, their identities hidden behind identical dark suits and the sa sharp-edged masks worn during that mission.
Four of them were the Erasers, motionless as stone, while at the head of the table sat the Watcher, his presence commanding the room even without words.
He leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes narrowing beneath the shadow of his mask as he studied each of them in turn. The silence was heavy, as though the very air waited for his verdict.
His gaze was deliberate, unwavering, stripping away the surface calm of the n before him.
Finally, his voice broke through, low and chilling yet laced with a teasing edge that carried far deeper weight.
"I am hoping everyone is still as loyal as before," he said slowly. His tone lingered in the room like smoke. "I hate traitors the most."
No one dared to respond. The four Erasers remained silent, their heads slightly bowed, their fists resting against their knees.
The Watcher allowed the words to hang, heavy and sharp, before pushing back his chair. Without another glance at them, he turned and walked out, his boots tapping against the marble floor until the sound faded into the adjoining corridor.
Beyond the hall, he entered another chamber, more refined, almost resembling a private lounge. The contrast was striking: warm lighting, shelves of old books, and a large couch placed near a sleek glass table.
On the couch sat Sophia, her posture as composed as ever, her attention fixed on the glowing screen of her laptop. Fingers moved swiftly across the keys, her expression unreadable. She did not look up when the Watcher stepped in.
"Soone is surely involved," she said evenly, as though continuing a conversation she had already been having in her head. Her tone was cool, matter-of-fact, her eyes still on her work. "Or how else did they manage to get contact with the hallucination spray and the mory pills?"
The Watcher stopped mid-stride. For a mont, silence filled the space again. Then, with a deliberate motion, he reached up and removed his mask. The faint scrape of the material broke the quiet.
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