Key Story (2) - Chapter 17
The clock ticked softly in the background, its rhythmic sound the only thing breaking the silence of Solace's pristine living room. She sat at the edge of the couch, the leather cool beneath her, and stared out at the manicured garden just beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the polished hardwood floors, creating patterns that almost distracted her from the feeling of emptiness that filled the house.
It was a large home, elegant and understated, with modern furniture and expensive artwork carefully placed throughout. But for all its beauty, it felt cold—sterile, even. There were no signs of life here, no warmth or personality. Just like the people who lived in it.
Solace was the only child of parents who had long ago stopped paying attention to her. They had given her everything she needed—materially, at least—but emotionally, they had left her to fend for herself. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a meaningful conversation with her mother, let alone her father.
Her mother's disapproving gaze flashed through her mind, reminding her of the last time they'd spoken. "Why do you insist on dressing like that?" her mother had asked, her voice sharp but lacking true interest. "All this nature-themed nonsense… it doesn't suit you."
Solace had shrugged off the comment, as she always did. Her mother never understood why she dressed the way she did—why she wore soft, earth-toned clothes, or why she braided flowers and leaves into her hair. It was a subtle rebellion, one that clashed with the stark, lifeless perfection of their home. But she had never bothered to explain it. Her mother wouldn't care either way.
As long as Solace stayed out of trouble and didn't interfere with the family's plans, her parents barely noticed her. They were absorbed in their own world—business deals, social obligations, whatever it was they spent their time on. They never questioned where she went or what she did with her time. They didn't care if she stayed out late or spent her days in a haze of courses and quiet rebellion.
She picked at the hem of her sleeve, a soft moss-green sweater that contrasted sharply with the minimalist, monochrome decor of the house. Her free time had always been her own, and lately, she had filled it with courses that interested her—philosophy, botany, anything that spoke to the quiet part of herself that craved meaning. But it all felt like a distraction, something to fill the emptiness that gnawed at her whenever she was alone in this house.
Yet, even with her efforts to carve out a sense of individuality, Solace knew the truth: she was tethered to Zenith. The weight of her involvement in the organization, the energy it required, and the constant demands of its schemes drained her more than she cared to admit. It wasn't a leash, exactly—Zenith didn't keep her on a tight rein—but the unspoken expectations, the underlying pressure to be useful, were always there.
The cold truth was that Zenith had become her occupation. It was more than just a side activity—it had swallowed up everything else. Her family didn't question it. As long as she adhered to their broader plans and didn't make waves, they were content to let her drift through life, aimless and detached.
Her phone buzzed on the glass coffee table in front of her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She picked it up, half-expecting a message from Zenith. But it was just a reminder about an upcoming course she had signed up for—some lecture on ancient philosophy that she had hoped might offer a brief escape from the reality of her life.
She put the phone down, her thoughts shifting back to Zenith. The organization was all-consuming, and lately, the tension within it had been palpable. Plans were accelerating, alliances shifting, and though she had always played her part, Solace couldn't shake the feeling that things were spiraling into something darker, something more dangerous.
And then there was Lynx.
Her stomach tightened at the thought of him. He had always been volatile, a wildcard in their carefully orchestrated schemes. After the botched kidnapping of Sable, he had disappeared for a while—fading into the shadows like he always did when things went wrong. But Solace knew it wouldn't be long before he resurfaced. And when he did, there would be consequences. Zenith didn't tolerate failure.
She sighed and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes for a moment. The weight of it all—the emptiness of her home, the cold distance of her parents, the suffocating expectations of Zenith—it was all starting to press down on her, suffocating her in ways she didn't fully understand.
A sound from the hallway broke the silence, and she opened her eyes to see her mother walking past, dressed impeccably as always. She didn't stop or acknowledge Solace as she passed, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Solace watched her go, a familiar sense of detachment settling in. This was their dynamic—a series of passing glances and fleeting interactions, devoid of any real connection.
Her phone buzzed again, and this time it was the message she had been waiting for. Lynx.
"We need to talk. Meet me tonight."
Solace stared at the message for a long moment, the tension in her chest tightening. She knew what this meant—knew that whatever Lynx had to say, it wouldn't be good. But there was no choice. She was part of this now, whether she liked it or not.
With a sigh, she stood up and headed for the door, grabbing her coat as she left the cold, lifeless house behind. As she stepped into the fading light of the evening, she couldn't shake the feeling that the weight on her shoulders was about to get a lot heavier.
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Dusk settled over the city as Solace made her way through the quiet streets. The air was crisp, biting at her cheeks, but the cool breeze barely registered. She was too focused, her mind filled with the weight of the impending meeting. Lynx had disappeared after the incident with Sable, and the fact that he wanted to meet now, after all this time, unsettled her. There was something about the way he vanished—something more than just lying low.
Her steps were deliberate as she approached the train station. The faint hum of the city felt distant, like background noise. Her eyes followed the streaks of light from passing cars, her breath visible in the cold air. She adjusted her jacket—a nature-themed piece that made her stand out among the city's muted tones. She knew her family always found her appearance odd, but they never cared enough to say more than a passing comment.
Tonight, though, none of that mattered. Zenith's plans, Lynx's disappearance, her own role in the unfolding events—it was all coming to a head. Even the routine courses she had been taking felt far away from her mind now. She felt like a puppet in a play, and the strings that pulled her were not ones she fully controlled. Solace was aware that her participation was more a result of her circumstances than her ambitions.
The station came into view, its dim yellow lights flickering against the growing darkness. The sound of a distant train rumbling over the tracks echoed through the stillness. Solace paused for a moment, taking in the scene, a sense of unease settling in her stomach. She felt like she was walking into a trap, though not one for her—one for Lynx, or for Nyx, or maybe for everyone involved.
Her phone buzzed lightly in her pocket—a message from Nyx, just two words: On your way?
Solace typed back a quick response: Yeah. Almost there.
She slipped her phone away, her thoughts drifting to Nyx. Nyx, with her charismatic smirk and silver-tongued confidence, always seemed one step ahead. Even her streaming persona, FoxFlare, was a guise of charming banter that masked her calculating nature. Solace admired her in a way—how easily she manipulated others with her mind games and charm. But tonight, Solace felt no admiration, only a cold reminder of the power games Zenith always played.
As she boarded the train, she found herself alone in the car, the interior dim and nearly empty. The rhythmic sound of the train moving along the tracks gave her a moment to breathe, but it didn't ease the tension gnawing at her. Her thoughts kept spiraling back to Lynx. The last time she had seen him, he had been a mess—unhinged after the incident with Sable. Zenith had always encouraged chaos, but Lynx had gone too far. Even for them.
And then he disappeared. For weeks. Maybe months. No one knew where he had gone. Only Zenith seemed unconcerned, as if his disappearance was just another cog in the greater scheme. But now, out of nowhere, Lynx wanted to meet again. And he had chosen Nyx's apartment as the location.
The train rattled as it sped through the outskirts of the city, passing gray industrial buildings and patches of overgrown fields. The further the train moved from the city center, the more isolated everything felt. Milo's town was quieter, a mix of suburban life and forgotten industry. She imagined how Nyx's apartment, located on the outskirts, would look—a reflection of Nyx herself, neat and charming on the surface, with layers of manipulation beneath.
Solace leaned her head against the window, watching the lights flicker by. It felt strange, heading toward a meeting with both Lynx and Nyx. Nyx had a reputation of keeping her cards close to her chest, playing her own game, even if it aligned with Zenith's larger goals. But Lynx—Lynx was different. He had become unhinged after his encounter with Sable. His obsession had grown darker, and now, after vanishing without a trace, he was back.
As the train slowed into the station, Solace felt the weight of her own decisions pressing down on her. This wasn't a casual meeting. Whatever Lynx wanted from her, it wasn't going to be simple. And with Nyx involved, it could easily turn into something far more dangerous than a mere reunion.
The train doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Solace stepped out into the cool night air. The station was mostly empty, save for a few stray passengers heading in the opposite direction. She pulled her coat tighter around herself as she began the walk toward Nyx's apartment. The faint buzz of streetlights overhead and the quiet hum of distant cars created a kind of eerie silence, a silence that mirrored her own growing unease.
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Nyx's apartment sat on the outskirts of Milo's town, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, the kind of place that didn't draw attention to itself. The building was older, its brick exterior darkened by years of exposure to the elements, but it still held a certain charm. Solace had been there a few times before, mostly on business for Zenith, but tonight it felt different. It felt... colder.
She reached the front of the building, a faint blue light glowing in one of the upper windows—Nyx's usual setup for her streaming sessions. Solace knew that Nyx thrived in this space, using her charisma and sharp wit to manipulate her audience. But what awaited her inside wasn't an audience—it was Lynx.
Before she could press the buzzer, the door to the apartment clicked open, revealing Nyx in all her magnetic charm. She leaned against the doorframe with a casual grace, her lips curved into a knowing smile that hinted at secrets untold. Her presence was impossible to ignore—a blend of striking charisma and a mysterious edge that made her feel both approachable and untouchable at the same time.
Her hair was an elaborate cascade of silver and pastel streaks—a swirl of lavender, pink, and teal strands that flowed around her like the colors of a twilight sky. The locks were voluminous, framing her face and falling over her shoulders in waves that shimmered subtly with every movement she made, giving her a near ethereal look. The colors, though soft, felt deliberate, like a silent challenge to anyone trying to read her too easily.
She wore a cropped top under a sleek jacket emblazoned with a glowing fox emblem, the vibrant blues and purples of the design standing out against the darker tones of her outfit. The jacket, casual but stylish, gave her the aura of someone who carefully balanced the line between playful and dangerous. A crescent moon earring dangled from her ear, reflecting the dim light in the hallway, and around her neck, multiple delicate necklaces draped across her collarbone, each one hinting at a deeper layer of her carefully crafted persona.
Her eyes, outlined with precise makeup, shimmered with the faintest glint of amusement, but behind them was something sharper—something calculating. There was always more to Nyx than met the eye. Even the smallest shift in her posture seemed designed to keep people on their toes, unsure whether to be enchanted or wary of her.
"You always make an entrance, Solace," Nyx said, her voice playful yet laced with the subtle authority that made it clear she was in control. She stepped aside, motioning for Solace to enter. The air around her seemed to hum with unspoken challenges, as though she was testing Solace just by looking at her, waiting to see how she would react.
Solace stepped forward, her movements deliberate and graceful, but her eyes never strayed far from Nyx. There was always more happening beneath the surface with her—Nyx's words might have been playful, but Solace knew that every glance, every smile, was calculated. Still, Solace didn't rise to the bait. She had learned long ago that with someone like Nyx, you gave nothing away for free.
"Just doing what's expected," Solace replied coolly, brushing past Nyx and into the apartment. The space was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls as the low hum of the city outside filtered through the windows. Solace's eyes flicked over the details, her mind filing away the subtleties of Nyx's environment. It was minimalist, stylish in a way that spoke of control, with just enough personality to make it feel lived-in, but never warm.
"Ah, always the professional," Nyx said, her voice trailing behind Solace like a silk ribbon. She walked with an effortless grace, taking her time as if the very world would wait for her. "But you're not here to exchange pleasantries, are you?"
As Solace entered Nyx's apartment, she could already hear Lynx rummaging through the kitchen drawers, the clink of glass jars and the crinkle of plastic wrappers echoing through the quiet space. The distinct, chaotic energy that accompanied him seemed to fill the room before he even appeared. Nyx, standing by the door, gave Solace a knowing glance, her lips curving into a wry smile as she gestured towards the kitchen.
"He's a piece of work, isn't he?" Nyx murmured, her voice laced with playful disdain. "The boy doesn't know how to sit still for five minutes." She flicked her fingers dismissively, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "He's in the kitchen. Probably looking for whatever junk food I haven't hidden from him."
Solace maintained her usual professional demeanor, offering Nyx a curt nod as she stepped further into the apartment, her eyes scanning the layout. It was sleek, modern, and curated to perfection—much like Nyx herself. But it wasn't the apartment that Solace was focused on.
The rustle of wrappers grew louder as Lynx made his presence known.
"Found it," came Lynx's familiar voice from the other room, casual and unbothered, as though nothing in his life had ever been out of place. The sound of a bag of chips being ripped open followed, and a moment later, he emerged from the kitchen, holding the snack like a prize.
The sight of him was jarring. Solace's eyes traced over his form, assessing the subtle but clear changes since the last time she had seen him. His once neat, almost cocky appearance was now more rugged and worn. His hair, which used to be styled with care, was longer, messier, and hung loosely over his face. Dark circles framed his eyes, and the faint remnants of a bruise marred his cheekbone—Raxian's doing, no doubt. His clothes were similarly disheveled: a black bomber jacket, its edges scuffed and frayed, hung loosely over a faded tee. Rings adorned his fingers, glinting in the apartment's dim lighting, each one a silent promise of defiance.
But despite his ragged appearance, the smirk on his lips hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown sharper.
Lynx tossed a chip into his mouth, barely glancing at Solace before sauntering over to the couch and dropping onto it like he owned the place. "Well, look who it is," he drawled, propping his feet up on the coffee table as he leaned back, utterly at ease. "Solace, right on time. You always keep things so professional, don't you?"
Solace held her composure, her expression carefully neutral as she regarded him. "I'm here because Nyx called me," she replied coolly, her tone clipped. She wasn't here to indulge Lynx's games. Not right now.
Lynx, however, didn't seem to care. He picked up another chip, chewing slowly, savoring the crunch before speaking again. "I heard you've been keeping busy with Zenith's latest scheme. Must be nice, being the responsible one, huh?" He shot her a lazy grin, though there was a glint of something darker in his eyes. "Me? I've just been… around."
Nyx sighed from the doorway, her voice dripping with exasperation. "Lynx, honestly. Do you ever take anything seriously?" She sauntered into the room, her movements graceful and deliberate, her long hair swaying with each step. Even as she teased her brother, there was a sharpness to her words. She didn't exactly favor his presence, but she knew his value, both to Zenith and to herself. Still, his unpredictability grated on her.
Lynx simply shrugged, unbothered by the thinly veiled criticism. "I take what I need to seriously," he retorted, tossing another chip into his mouth.
Solace's patience was wearing thin, but her exterior remained cool, unflinching. "Zenith still sees you as a valuable asset," she remarked, her voice steady. "Despite your… recent missteps."
At that, Lynx's eyes flicked toward her, the smirk faltering just a bit. "Missteps?" He repeated, his tone feigning offense. "You mean the little incident with Raxian and his merry band of heroes?" He chuckled darkly, but there was an edge to his voice now. "Yeah, so I didn't exactly win the hero complex competition last time, but hey, who's counting?"
Nyx raised a perfectly manicured brow, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the wall, clearly waiting for the rest of his excuse.
Solace's gaze remained fixed on Lynx, her expression unreadable. "You failed," she said bluntly. "Keeping Sable wasn't just part of the plan—it was the plan."
Lynx's smile turned cold, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he met Solace's gaze. "Oh, I wouldn't call it a failure," he said softly, his voice dangerously calm. "Just… a learning opportunity."
His words hung in the air, the unspoken threat lingering between them. Solace's stomach churned, but she didn't let it show. She was used to dealing with people like Lynx—people who thrived in chaos, who saw every loss as a chance to twist things in their favor. But something about his demeanor now was unsettling. The way he carried himself, even after such a humiliating defeat, suggested he was far from done.
Solace took a step forward, her voice steady but firm. "Zenith won't tolerate another slip-up," she warned. "Neither will I."
Lynx's grin widened, his teeth flashing in the low light. "Oh, don't worry, Solace. I've learned my lesson. Next time, I'll play a little smarter."
From behind them, Nyx let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, as if this entire conversation was just a formality she had to endure. She pushed off the wall and sauntered into the kitchen, her long, silver hair trailing behind her like a shadow.
"Well," she called back over her shoulder, "I'll let you two sort out your business. I'm sure Lynx has plenty of plans to discuss with you, Solace." Her voice was laced with sarcasm, though there was an undercurrent of truth to her words. Despite everything, Lynx was still valuable to Zenith's operations. He was still a piece of the puzzle.
As Nyx disappeared into the kitchen, Solace turned back to Lynx, her gaze hardening. She had no intention of indulging in his games any further.
But before she could speak, Lynx stood up from the couch, his posture shifting from casual to something more… menacing. He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice low. "I'm not the one you should be worried about, Solace. Just remember, we're all in this together, right?"
Solace's lips thinned into a line, but she didn't back down. "As long as you remember that too," she replied coldly, her gaze unwavering.
For a long moment, they stood there in silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut. But then, without another word, Lynx brushed past her, heading towards the kitchen where Nyx was waiting, still rummaging through drawers for a snack of her own.
Solace let out a quiet breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she watched him go. There was no doubt in her mind—Lynx was still dangerous, still unpredictable. And if he had learned anything from his failure with Sable, it was how to adapt, how to bide his time.
But she would be ready.
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As Solace followed Nyx and Lynx into the dimly lit room, she realized something was different. Nyx was already settling into her chair, adjusting her neon-lit headphones as the cameras around her hummed to life. The familiar glow of her streaming setup bathed the room in blues and purples, matching the colors in Nyx's hair. But this wasn't just another casual stream. Solace could feel it. Something bigger was at play.
Nyx's setup was pristine, like everything about her public persona—calculated, perfect, and alluring. Multiple monitors displayed live chat scrolling in rapid succession, messages of anticipation flooding in from Nyx's dedicated fans. The sleek backdrop of gaming posters, LED lights, and the glowing fox emblem of her online persona, FoxFlare, added to the illusion of control she projected. But tonight's stream wasn't just for the viewers. It was for Milo.
Nyx flashed a mischievous smile at the camera, adjusting her microphone. "Evening, everyone! Hope you're ready for something a little different tonight. I've got a special stream planned—some surprises, some challenges… and maybe, just maybe, a glimpse behind the scenes." Her voice was smooth and charismatic, designed to draw people in. Even Solace had to admit Nyx had a way with words.
Solace stood back, her eyes narrowing. She knew Nyx had her own plans, but the way her fingers deftly navigated the keyboard, pulling up screens of data and stats related to Zenith, made it clear this was all part of a larger operation. Nyx wasn't just a streamer; she was orchestrating something far bigger than anyone in her audience realized.
And Milo would be watching.
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Milo sat at his desk, his usual coffee untouched beside him as he clicked into Nyx's stream. He wasn't sure why he'd tuned in—something about her streams always felt off to him. There was an edge to her that he couldn't quite place, something beyond the calculated charm she used to engage her viewers. And now, after everything that had happened with Sable and Lynx, he was more suspicious than ever.
He leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing as the stream flickered to life on his screen. Nyx's face filled the frame, her signature smirk in place as she greeted her audience. The chat was blowing up, hundreds of fans typing excited messages and sending digital gifts, but Milo barely registered it. His focus was on her words, the way she seemed to be talking directly to him, even though she had no idea he was there.
Did she?
Milo had been tracking Zenith for months, piecing together fragments of information about their operations outside the game. They weren't just manipulating the e-sports scene—they were moving pieces in the tech world, too. He was sure of it. The more he dug, the more connections he found between Zenith's leadership and shadowy figures in the industry. And now, watching Nyx, he had the distinct feeling she was part of it, manipulating not just the game, but people.
And then she said something that made his heart skip a beat.
"So," Nyx began, her tone playful but with a dangerous edge, "tonight's stream is going to be a little different. I'm going to be showing you all a few... secrets. Things not everyone's supposed to see." She winked at the camera, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she brought up a new screen.
Milo's stomach twisted. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at the display. It was a digital interface, a real-time analysis of game stats, but deeper than that—he recognized the code. It was encryption software, the kind used to mask data transfers. And it wasn't just for show. Nyx was flaunting something right in front of her audience, something that shouldn't be public.
This was the next step in Zenith's operation.
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Solace's eyes widened slightly as she caught a glimpse of what was happening on Nyx's screen. She wasn't as tech-savvy as Milo, but she could tell this wasn't just a regular stream. Nyx was showing something important, something that was going to send ripples through the gaming community—maybe even further.
And the best part? Milo was already watching, probably trying to piece it all together.
Nyx leaned back in her chair, glancing over her shoulder at Lynx, who was standing off to the side, arms crossed. He had cleaned up a bit since their last encounter, though the rough edges were still there—his hair was tousled in that deliberate way, and his eyes glinted with the same predatory amusement he always carried. He wasn't interested in the stream, but he watched with a smirk, knowing that what they were doing now was more than just gaming.
"Ready for phase two?" Nyx asked, her voice low, meant only for Lynx and Solace to hear. Her hand hovered over the keyboard, waiting for confirmation.
Lynx's smirk deepened, his eyes flicking toward Solace for a brief second before returning to Nyx. "Always."
Solace stayed quiet, keeping her professional demeanor intact despite the sudden shift in the atmosphere. She had always played her part in Zenith's schemes, but even she hadn't anticipated this. Nyx was baiting them, setting something in motion, and whatever it was, it was about to pull Milo—and the rest of them—deeper into the web.
As Nyx prepared for the next part of the stream, she glanced at Solace. "You might want to take a seat," Nyx said, her tone almost teasing. "This is going to be fun."
Solace hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with possibilities. She had always been able to keep things distant, detached, but something about the way Nyx was orchestrating this made her uneasy. She knew Milo was watching. And whatever Nyx was about to reveal was going to change everything.
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Back at his apartment, Milo's fingers hovered over the keyboard, his pulse quickening as he realized what he was looking at. Nyx wasn't just streaming gameplay—she was showing something deeper, something coded and hidden beneath the surface of Zenith's public persona. His eyes darted to the chat, watching as the viewers obliviously cheered and sent donations, completely unaware of what was happening behind the scenes.
But Milo wasn't oblivious. He could see the threads connecting. Zenith was using the game as a front, but this—this was proof of something bigger.
His mind raced, piecing together the fragments of what he had uncovered over the last few months. Zenith wasn't just controlling the e-sports scene—they were manipulating the entire infrastructure behind it. The data transfers, the encrypted messages—it was all there, hidden in plain sight.
And Nyx knew he would find it.
A sinking feeling settled in his stomach. This wasn't just a casual discovery. Zenith was taunting him, showing him just enough to keep him on the hook. And now, they were daring him to do something about it.
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Milo sat back in his chair, the soft glow of his computer screen casting pale light across the room. The stream was running, Nyx's voice carrying through his speakers as she interacted with her audience—playful, sharp, and filled with her usual charisma. But Milo wasn't really paying attention to her words. His mind was elsewhere, turning over the puzzle pieces of Zenith, Lynx, and everything that had been shifting since Sable's kidnapping. Something didn't sit right with him.
As he absentmindedly scanned the chat logs and match replays, a soft chime broke through the hum of the stream, pulling his focus back to the screen. A friend request.
Milo squinted at the notification, his fingers hovering over the mouse. The username glowed on his screen, unfamiliar but nagging at the edge of his memory.
SoulChaser?
It took him a second before the name clicked. SoulChaser… that was Kade's username, right? The flashy ADC from last year's tournament. Milo hadn't thought much about him since then—Kade always seemed like the kind of guy who craved attention but wasn't relevant to the deeper layers of Zenith's operations. He was... in the background. Harmless, or so it seemed. Doing his own race, more concerned with ranking up and showing off his mechanics than getting involved in the web of control and manipulation that Milo had uncovered about Zenith.
Still, the timing was odd.
Why now?
Milo hesitated, his gut twisting with unease. Accepting a friend request from a Zenith member, even a seemingly irrelevant one like Kade, wasn't something to take lightly. But curiosity gnawed at him, and despite his better judgment, his finger clicked "Accept."
The friend request disappeared, replaced by a new chat notification. Milo's gaze flickered over the message.
SoulChaser: We should meet up tomorrow. Just us. Got something to talk about.
Milo stared at the screen, his pulse quickening. Meet up? Why would Kade want to meet with him? And more importantly, what could he possibly have to say? Milo didn't trust Kade—not really. He was part of Zenith, after all, and even if Kade had been laying low, focusing on his own climb, it was hard to ignore his connection to a group as dangerous as Zenith.
And yet, Kade had never seemed like the type to get involved in Zenith's deeper operations. He was more of a showman, someone who liked the spotlight and thrived on flashy plays. He had always struck Milo as cocky, maybe a little too into himself, but not exactly sinister.
Milo sighed, leaning back in his chair as he tapped out a quick reply.
Milo: What's this about?
The response came almost immediately.
SoulChaser: Can't say much here. Just meet me tomorrow. Same café as before, 2 PM.
Milo's brow furrowed. Same café as before? They hadn't exactly met up before—maybe Kade was confusing him with someone else. Or maybe this was part of Kade's flair for drama. Still, there was something about the vagueness of Kade's message that set Milo on edge.
Should he even go?
His instincts told him to stay cautious, to keep his guard up. But at the same time, a part of him was curious—Kade's sudden outreach wasn't random. Maybe this was the break Milo needed, a way to get more information about Zenith and what they were planning. Even if Kade was harmless on the surface, there was a chance that this meeting could lead to something bigger.
Milo typed out a reluctant response.
Milo: Alright. I'll be there.
He hit send and watched the chat window close. A knot of unease tightened in his chest. He wasn't sure how to feel about this—about Kade, about the meeting, or about the growing sense that something was shifting. Kade didn't seem like the type to get his hands dirty with Zenith's more dangerous schemes, but Milo knew better than to trust appearances.
Still, he didn't want to worry the group unnecessarily. Kade, for all his bravado, was still mostly focused on his own goals. He wasn't Lynx. He wasn't someone Milo feared—at least, not yet.
Milo's hand hovered over his phone as he debated whether to mention it to the others. Should he tell Raxian? Or maybe Fayne? Part of him wanted to keep it quiet, to handle this on his own, but another part of him knew that staying silent could be risky.
After a moment's hesitation, he opened his messages and shot a quick text to Fayne.
Milo:
Got a weird message from Kade. He wants to meet up tomorrow. Not sure what it's about. Just letting you know in case… well, in case something's off.
He paused, then added:
Milo:
I'll keep you posted.
He hit send and leaned back in his chair, staring at the glowing screen in front of him as Nyx's stream continued in the background. Her voice was sharp, filled with playful banter as she led her audience through the next steps of her stream. But Milo's focus was elsewhere now. His mind was racing, already trying to figure out what Kade could possibly want—and why it suddenly felt like the stakes were about to get higher.
Milo sighed, running a hand through his hair before shutting his computer down. He couldn't shake the feeling that tomorrow's meeting was going to be more than just a casual chat. Something was shifting, and he was about to get pulled deeper into the web.