"I need a priority trace," Liss said quickly, her voice clipped and urgent, wasting no ti on pleasantries. "Personal target. Civilian. Code red—confird abduction."
"Na?"
"Kael."
"Phone number?"
She recited the digits from mory, each one clear and precise, her mind pulling them from the dozens of tis she’d dialed him.
"Hold one mont," the voice said, emotionless as ever.
A low hum buzzed through the line, the sound of algorithms churning, satellites pinging, data streams converging. Then a chi echoed, sharp and final.
"We’re tracking the device. It is currently in motion... traveling along Highway 11, eastbound."
Liss’s brows furrowed, her free hand tightening on the railing as she visualized the route—winding through the outskirts, away from the city’s dense core.
"That doesn’t sound right. Is it stopping anywhere? Or did it stop recently? Give a tiline."
Another pause, the hum intensifying as the system dug deeper.
"Give a few seconds..."
Liss tapped her foot impatiently, her boot scraping against the rooftop gravel, eyes scanning the darkening skyline as if she could spot the signal herself.
Then the voice returned, efficient and devoid of inflection.
"Yes. The phone was stationary for 15 minutes at a residential location approximately twenty miles from your current position. Exact ti stamp. 34 minutes ago. No further stops detected since movent resud."
"Send the address," Liss said, her tone brooking no delay.
"Transmitting now."
A ping hit her phone, vibrating in her hand as a map popped up on the screen, coordinates highlighted in red, zooming in on a quiet suburban pocket.
Liss stared at it, eyes narrowing, committing the details to mory—the street na, the neighborhood layout, the proximity to the highway.
She turned off the call without another word, pocketing the device.
Then vanished in a snap of blue light, electricity arcing across the rooftop in her wake, the air crackling with residual charge.
Five minutes later, she reappeared just outside the property—an upscale villa nestled in a quiet neighborhood, tucked away from the main roads.
It didn’t look like a villain’s lair—far from it.
It looked... normal.
Almost too normal, the kind of place that blended into suburbia without a second glance.
Neat garden beds lined with trimd hedges, a clean stone walkway leading to the door, light beige walls glowing softly under the streetlights.
A wooden gate stood slightly ajar, and a single flowerpot sat on the porch, blooming with unassuming white petals.
Liss moved fast, her boots silent on the path, adrenaline sharpening her senses.
She didn’t knock—didn’t announce herself.
She kicked the door open with a controlled burst of force, the wood creaking against its hinges as it swung inward, revealing the dim interior.
Inside was dead silent—no hum of appliances, no footsteps echoing, no whisper of shadows stirring.
But on the dining table, neatly placed in the center like an offering, sat a porcelain bowl.
Chocolate pudding, steam still rising faintly from the surface.
Still warm, as if freshly made.
Liss’s eyes narrowed, her body tensing as she scanned the room—empty chairs, spotless counters, the faint scent of chocolate lingering in the air.
Beside the bowl, a folded note rested, crisp white paper against the dark wood.
She stepped closer, her hand hovering for a mont before picking it up, unfolding it.
Kael’s handwriting? No—too smooth, the loops too elegant, the strokes too confident.
It read:
Kael is safe with . Don’t worry.
You must be tired.
Have so pudding.
—Lital
Liss stared at the ssage, the bowl, the stillness of the house pressing in around her like a taunt, the words dripping with mocking sweetness.
Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding as a spark jumped from her fingertip to the paper, singeing the edge faintly with a hiss of electricity.
She didn’t eat the pudding—didn’t touch it, didn’t even consider it, her stomach twisting at the thought.
But she felt the ssage loud and clear, a playful jab, a warning wrapped in faux hospitality, Lital’s way of saying she was always one step ahead, watching from the shadows, anticipating every move.
_______
"Where are you taking now?" Kael asked, his voice more tired than annoyed, laced with the weariness of soone pulled too far, too fast.
His head lolled back slightly against the shadowy cocoon that cradled him, the tendrils soft but unyielding, wrapping his limbs in a hold that was secure—not tight, not painful—but suffocating in its tenderness, like being held by a lover who didn’t know when to let go.
"Just watch," Lital replied, her voice floating to him from just ahead, gentle and amused, a smile audible in the lilt without him needing to see her face.
Her long black hair cascaded down her back like a raven waterfall, swaying with each step she took.
And then they moved.
The world warped around them—colors bending into streaks, sounds blurring into low hums and fluttering echoes that twisted in his ears.
Shadows poured around Lital’s feet like a living current, dark and fluid, and Kael felt himself glide through the world like a passenger in a ship made of darkness, the cocoon carrying him effortlessly in her wake.
They weren’t flying, weren’t running in any conventional sense.
They were... slipping.
Slipping through folds of the world, cutting across space faster than logic could keep up with, the landscape dissolving into a haze of motion.
Trees blurred past in green sars.
Rocks jutted like forgotten teeth.
Roads snaked away in gray ribbons.
Rivers glinted briefly before vanishing.
Kael lost track of the terrain, the direction, the sense of up or down.
Ti felt warped, stretched thin like taffy under her power.
He exhaled shakily, his breath ragged in the cocoon’s embrace.
All he could think about was that mont.
That one mont of weakness, replaying in his mind like a loop he couldn’t escape.
When Lila, on an unfortunate day, approached him seeking help to rehabilitate her sister Tila in exchange for a substantial sum of money, Kael—cocky from his skills and the fact that they were twins—had taken the job without hesitation.
Now, here he was.
Completely at her rcy and cradled in her shadows.
The first domino in a chain that led to this—to Lital, rged and whole, her affection twisted into sothing all-consuming.
Was it regret gnawing at him now?
The thought that if he’d said sothing else that day, refused her instead of agreeing, things might have turned out differently?
He didn’t know.
He just knew the weight of it pressed on him, heavy as the shadows carrying him forward.
And then—
The shadows stopped, the motion halting with a suddenness that jolted his stomach.
The world snapped back into color and clarity, the feeling of montum dropping out of his chest like a stone into water.
Kael blinked rapidly as the cocoon lted around him like smoke retreating into the soil, tendrils uncoiling with a whisper, leaving him standing on solid ground once more.
They had arrived.
A wooden house stood in front of them—old, traditional, weathered by ti but still standing strong, tucked quietly into a forest clearing like a secret kept from the world.
Pine trees rose tall on all sides, their branches muffling the wind and swallowing the sunlight into dappled shadows that danced across the mossy ground.
The place was silent, the kind of quiet that felt earned, not empty.
But not abandoned—there was a faint life to it, in the way the vines clung to the eaves, the faint scent of earth and wood lingering in the air.
Lital’s feet touched the grass soundlessly, her long black hair swaying as she placed Kael gently down on the front steps, her black fingernails brushing his arm in a fleeting, affectionate touch.
He staggered a bit but caught himself, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath his boots, a sound that echoed like a greeting from the past.
As he turned to take it in, the house breathed—shadows curling from the windows like exhaled smoke, slipping between floorboards and seams with a subtle hiss, as if the structure itself was awakening.
With a sound like air rushing through lungs, the dust vanished in swirling eddies, old cobwebs peeled away like shedding skin, and the walls straightened with a faint groan of settling timber.
The wood polished itself to a warm sheen. The glass cleared of gri, sparkling in the filtered light.
In less than ten seconds, the house looked almost new—not modern, not high-tech, but preserved, restored to a quiet dignity, the air inside fresh and inviting.
Kael stared, his hazel eyes wide.
"...Where is this place?" he asked, his voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile peace.
Lital ca up beside him, looping her arm through his with an affectionate squeeze, her black lips curving into a soft smile, her long black hair brushing his shoulder like silk.
"This," she said, her voice warm, laced with nostalgia, "is where Lila and Tila lived for years."
He glanced at her, the pieces clicking.
"After the orphanage?"
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