The faint glow of moonlight seeped through the cracks in the boarded windows as Nana sat cross-legged on the floor of her dimly lit room. Before her lay a small, weathered chest she had uncovered earlier in the storage basement of the hotel. The chest's contents felt like a gateway to the darker underpinnings of the organization she'd reluctantly aligned herself with.
Her gaze settled on a sleek, black device no larger than a coin. It was cold to the touch, deceptively simple in design, yet she knew its purpose all too well. Claire's mind-control device. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of how many lives it could manipulate, how many futures it could rewrite.
Beside the device lay photographs—gritty, unforgiving images of children. Their expressions were eerily blank, their eyes devoid of light. Victims of the organization's experiments. Nana's fingers traced one of the photos, her breath hitching when she noticed a girl no older than seven, her face frozen in a state of haunting calm.
She shut her eyes, memories flashing in her mind like a cruel film reel. Conversations from when she first joined the organization echoed in her head: cryptic warnings about how "some sacrifices must be made" and how they were "building a better, controlled world." At the time, it hadn't sounded as sinister. Now it felt like betrayal.
Her hands trembled as she pulled out a faded folder, stamped with a crimson insignia she recognized immediately. She flipped it open, scanning the diagrams and documents, her stomach twisting with every word. The aquarium wasn't just a place to train the emotionless children. It was a prototype. The ultimate goal was far worse.
A particular document made her heart freeze. In bold letters at the top, it read: Project Fujinami Akari. Her chest tightened as she read the description: A failed experiment with unprecedented survival. Possible adaptation for future procedures.
She gasped. That name… her name. Her hand shot to her chest, panic rising in her throat. Memories she couldn't place flooded her mind—faceless scientists, sharp lights, cold machines. "I'm—" she whispered, unable to finish the thought. The girl in the photos, the children in the tanks, the inhuman experiments—it was all connected.
Suddenly, her surroundings felt suffocating. The walls seemed to close in, and her breaths came faster. She needed air. Throwing on a jacket, she grabbed the dagger she always kept nearby and slipped out of the room.
The hallway was eerily quiet as she made her way down the stairs, her footsteps muffled on the carpet. She pushed open the door to the street, the cool night air hitting her like a slap. It wasn't enough to ground her. Her mind was racing, replaying what she'd just uncovered.
Her thoughts were interrupted by muffled voices coming from a nearby alley. Quietly, she moved toward the sound, keeping to the shadows. Peeking around the corner, she spotted two men in black coats huddled together, their conversation hushed but urgent.
"… restart Project 1940 soon," one of them said, his voice low.
"About time," the other replied. "We've wasted enough resources waiting for results. Once the ambassador's dealt with, we can proceed with the next phase. And the Fujinami girl… well, she's proof the process works."
Nana's blood ran cold. They were talking about her.
Her grip on the dagger tightened as the men continued talking, oblivious to her presence. She took a step back, her mind whirring with the weight of what she'd just overheard. This wasn't just about her mission anymore. This was personal.
She turned and walked away, her steps quick and purposeful. Her fear was gone, replaced by a simmering rage. They think I'm their proof? Their puppet? Her jaw clenched.
Let them think that.
For now.
But soon, she would make them pay.
The moon hung low over the city, casting its pale light through the cracks in the blinds of Damien's lavish suite. The room was a masterpiece of luxury—polished mahogany furniture, velvet curtains, and an array of priceless artwork adorning the walls. It was also soundproofed, a necessity for someone whose secrets ran as deep as his pockets.
Nana slipped silently through the shadows, her spy uniform clinging to her like a second skin. Her black mask concealed her identity, the sleek fabric catching faint glimmers of moonlight. In her gloved hand, she held a sharp, slender dagger, its blade glinting with deadly intent. She had one mission tonight: eliminate Damien.
Reaching his bedroom door, she paused, listening. The soft sound of classical music filtered through, accompanied by the occasional rustling of sheets. With a practiced hand, she picked the lock in seconds, the door creaking open just enough for her to slip inside.
Damien lay sprawled across his oversized bed, the faint glow of his bedside lamp illuminating his chiseled features. His breath was even, calm. He looked serene, but Nana knew better. The man was a monster beneath his handsome facade—charming to the world, ruthless in the shadows.
She moved closer, her footsteps noiseless on the thick carpet. But as she raised her dagger, poised to strike, his eyes snapped open.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?" Damien's voice was a low growl, his lips curling into a sinister smirk.
In an instant, he rolled off the bed, his hand darting beneath his pillow to retrieve a sleek handgun. Nana lunged forward, kicking the weapon from his grip before he could aim. It clattered to the floor, and Damien sprang to his feet, his movements surprisingly quick for someone caught off guard.
"I knew there was something off about you," he snarled, circling her like a predator. "But a spy? You're full of surprises."
Nana didn't respond. She didn't need to. Her blade flashed as she struck, aiming for his throat. Damien dodged, countering with a punch that grazed her shoulder. The force sent her stumbling back, but she recovered quickly, her stance steady.
The fight was brutal and swift. Damien was stronger than he looked, his fists landing with bone-crushing force. But Nana was faster, her movements precise and calculated. She ducked under his strikes, her dagger slicing through the air.
He managed to grab her wrist, twisting it painfully until she dropped the blade. "You think you can kill me?" he taunted, his grip tightening. "I've dealt with your kind before."
Nana responded with a swift knee to his abdomen, forcing him to release her. She retrieved her dagger in one fluid motion and slashed at him, the blade grazing his chest. Blood seeped through his silk shirt, the sight fueling her resolve.
Damien grabbed a decorative vase from a nearby table and hurled it at her. She dodged, the vase shattering against the wall, shards flying everywhere. He lunged at her, his hands reaching for her throat, but she anticipated the move. Using his momentum against him, she twisted, sending him crashing into the nightstand.
Breathing heavily, Damien struggled to his feet, his eyes wild with fury. "You'll regret this," he hissed.
Nana didn't give him the chance to retaliate. With a swift, decisive motion, she plunged her dagger into his heart. His eyes widened in shock, a strangled gasp escaping his lips before he collapsed to the floor.
She stood over his lifeless body, her breath coming in short bursts. The room was eerily silent now, the classical music still playing softly in the background—a hauntingly serene contrast to the violence that had just unfolded.
Nana wiped her blade clean on his shirt before slipping it back into its sheath. She adjusted her mask, ensuring her identity remained hidden, and glanced around the room one last time. There was no trace of her presence, no evidence left behind.
The quiet hum of the headquarters filled the air as Nana sat alone in the darkened briefing room, the soft glow of a single screen illuminating her masked face. She leaned forward, her gloved hands resting lightly on the keyboard as she began typing her mission report.
MISSION REPORT
Agent Code: C1207
Location: Canada
Mission Code: EXI-N49
Status: SUCCESSFUL
She paused, her fingers hovering above the keys before she continued.
Details:
"Target eliminated as planned. Subject Damien was neutralized at approximately 02:30 hours. No collateral damage. No traces left behind. Mission duration extended due to unforeseen delays in target's schedule. Recovered intel suggests involvement in broader networks, but this requires further investigation. Awaiting directives for next phase."
She exhaled deeply, her thoughts momentarily drifting to the scene she had left behind. Damien's lifeless body, the faint scent of his blood mingling with the lingering cologne in his opulent suite—it was another mark on her ever-growing list.
But there was no time for reflection. She clicked the "Send" button, and the report uploaded to the encrypted server. A confirmation message flashed on the screen:
"Report from C1207, CANADA, mission code: EXI-N49, submitted. Awaiting further orders."
Nana leaned back in her chair, pulling off her mask and placing it neatly beside her. The dim light caught the faint weariness in her eyes, though her expression remained stoic. Her mission in Canada had stretched far longer than anticipated, and she felt the weight of each passing day.
Before she could rest, her earpiece buzzed to life.
"C1207, this is Control. Your report has been received. Excellent work. There's another matter requiring your immediate attention."
She straightened in her seat, her focus sharpening. "Go ahead."
"We've identified a potential link between Damien and another high-profile target in Montreal. The connection is delicate, but we need you to secure the intel he was holding before it falls into the wrong hands. You'll receive a secure package with details shortly."
"Understood," Nana replied. "I'll prepare for deployment."
The line went dead, leaving her in silence once more. Her eyes drifted to the screen, where her mission code still flickered faintly. Each assignment brought her closer to the truth, but it also dragged her further into the darkness.
She slipped her mask back on, the sleek material molding to her face like a second skin. Rising from her seat, she moved with quiet determination, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
Her mind was clear, her purpose unwavering. She had killed Damien. Now, she would dismantle the rest of the network—one mission at a time.
The cold night air brushed against Nana's face as she stepped out of the covert building. The city streets were alive with a quiet hum of distant traffic and faint murmurs of nightlife, but it all seemed muted to her. She inhaled deeply, the crispness filling her lungs, a sharp contrast to the suffocating tension of the mission she had just completed.
Her footsteps echoed softly against the pavement as she wandered aimlessly. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to feel like just another traveler in a foreign city. The dim light of a nearby lamppost illuminated her face as she pulled out her phone.
A notification blinked. It was a text.
Max: Where are you? Haven't heard from you in weeks.
Nana's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles before she typed a response.
Nana: On vacation. Needed a break from everything.
The reply came quickly.
Max: You? Vacation? Sounds fake. Where are you?
She hesitated before responding, her fingers lingering over the keyboard. There were too many truths she couldn't afford to tell.
Nana: Canada. Beautiful landscapes and very cold. You'd hate it.
Max: Cold and quiet? Definitely not my thing. But if anyone deserves a break, it's you.
Her chest tightened at his words. Max didn't know the half of it, and he never would.
Max: Come back soon, yeah?
Her thumb hovered over the screen. A simple "yes" would suffice, but instead, she typed:
Nana: I'll be back before you know it.
She tucked her phone back into her pocket, her breath forming small clouds in the air as she exhaled. The stars above were obscured by the glow of the city, but she didn't need to see them. Her mind was already set on her next steps.
The morning light spilled over the city as Nana boarded her flight back to the U.S. She had checked out of the modest hotel hours earlier, leaving behind any trace of her "vacation." Dressed in a simple outfit, with her false skin disguise still in place, she melted seamlessly into the crowd of travelers.
The airplane cabin was filled with the murmurs of passengers settling in. Nana took her seat by the window, her face turned toward the glass. The snow-covered Canadian landscape stretched far below, its beauty almost surreal.
But her thoughts were far from the view. She mentally reviewed everything she'd uncovered—Damien's ties, the hidden network, and the chilling truth about the experiments. She couldn't afford any distractions, not even the lingering warmth from Max's messages.
As the plane lifted off, she closed her eyes, letting the hum of the engines drown out her thoughts. The next chapter of her mission awaited her in the U.S, and she would face it with the same cold precision that had brought her this far.
The Return.
The airport was bustling with the usual chaotic energy, as travelers hurried past, making their way to various destinations. Nana walked through the terminal, her eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. It had been weeks since she left for her overseas trip, and she was ready to return to her routine.
As she stepped into the arrivals area, she spotted Max standing by the gate, his hands in his pockets and a small, reassuring smile on his face. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the noise of the airport faded into the background.
"Welcome back," Max said, his voice light but with an edge of sincerity. He stepped forward, wrapping Nana in a brief but warm hug, before pulling away.
Nana smiled softly, though there was something different in her eyes—a guardedness, a subtle shift in her demeanor. "Thanks. It's good to be back, I guess."
Max grinned. "How was vacation?"
Nana rolled her eyes playfully, "It was good, finally, I can escape the mundane history class."
Max chuckled, giving her a teasing look. "I guess that's one way to look at it."
The air between them felt light, like it used to. But as they stood there, Nana couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting. Max had always been a comforting presence, but she sensed an unspoken tension, an undercurrent of something more.
Max gestured toward the parking lot. "I'd like to drive you home actually."
Nana raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? We both live in a hostel."
Max laughed, shaking his head. "Kidding! I want to treat you to supper. It's been too long."
Nana hesitated for a moment, before shrugging. "Sure, why not?"
They walked together toward Max's car, the conversations light but the silence between them lingering like a heavy fog. It felt like the world around them was holding its breath, and something unknown was about to shift in the quiet.
As they drove, the city streets seemed to blur, the hum of the engine and the occasional chime of Nana's phone the only sounds filling the space between them. Max tried to keep the conversation casual, speaking about random things—movies, songs, and even a recent basketball game. But Nana's mind was elsewhere, her thoughts racing back to everything she had done, everything she had seen, and the secrets she was keeping.
Max glanced over at her, a frown crossing his face for just a moment. "You okay?" he asked, his tone softening as he noticed the way she was looking out of the window.
Nana turned to him, offering a faint smile. "Yeah, just tired, you know? It's been a long trip."
Max nodded, sensing there was more to it but not pushing her. He focused back on the road, but the weight of the silence felt heavier than before.
Suddenly, Nana's phone buzzed in her bag. She reached for it quickly, her heartbeat picking up as she saw the message.
The text was from an anonymous number.
"We know what you did. Watch your back."
A chill ran through her as she stared at the message, her fingers trembling slightly. Her mind raced, connecting dots from her past, things she had tried to forget. She had been careful, hadn't she?
Max noticed her sudden change in expression. "What's wrong?"
Nana quickly locked her phone and placed it back into her bag, forcing a smile onto her face. "Nothing, just… someone from my past. Don't worry about it."
Max raised an eyebrow but didn't press her further. However, something in his eyes shifted—an intensity that wasn't there before. He could tell something was off. The comfortable air between them was slipping, and something darker was beginning to take its place.
As they approached the restaurant, Max pulled into a parking space. He turned off the engine, but before he got out, he looked at Nana seriously.
"Listen, if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here. You don't have to carry it all alone."
Nana looked at him, the walls she'd so carefully built around herself threatening to crack. She wanted to tell him everything, but the weight of the secrets she carried was too much.
Instead, she simply nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Thanks, Max."
But as they walked into the restaurant, the sense of unease never left Nana. That message—it was just the beginning of something she couldn't control. Something from her past was resurfacing, and this time, there might be no way to escape it.
Nana sat at the table, the chatter and laughter around her felt distant, almost muffled. Her fingers drummed lightly on the edge of her glass, a sense of unease creeping up her spine. The world seemed to slow as her thoughts raced. Something felt off. She forced a smile, trying to shake off the discomfort, but it lingered like a shadow.
"Excuse me for a minute," she said softly, her voice barely rising above the noise. Max glanced up, concern flickering in his eyes.
"Everything okay?" he asked, his gaze searching hers.
Nana nodded quickly, her smile tighter now. "I just need to use the bathroom. Be right back." Without waiting for a response, she stood, her movements quick and almost too deliberate as she made her way through the crowded restaurant, the unease in her chest only growing with each step.
Nana walked into the restaurant's bathroom, a bit flustered, feeling the weight of the day pressing against her chest. She had just seen that message on her phone—the one that stirred up all the old memories. It was hard to shake the feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong. She needed a moment to breathe, to collect herself.
She stood in front of the mirror, the harsh fluorescent lights reflecting the exhaustion she'd been trying to hide. Her makeup had smudged, the mascara streaked slightly beneath her eyes. With a small sigh, she dabbed at her face, touching up her eyeliner and fixing her lipstick. She was doing everything she could to maintain her composure—she didn't want Max to see that something was off.
Just as she finished fixing her makeup, a sudden, intense pressure built up in her lower abdomen. Nana shifted her weight uneasily and quickly realized she needed to pee. As she made her way to the stall, she heard the bathroom door creak open behind her. The soft shuffle of footsteps on the tile was drowned out by the sound of running water from the sinks. She pushed the thought away and stepped into the stall.
But as she exited, a man in a dark hoodie appeared from one of the other stalls. His hood was low, shadowing most of his face, but there was something unsettling about his presence. Nana froze for a moment, instincts alert. She didn't know why, but something about this guy felt wrong.
She turned back toward the sink, trying to ignore him, but he stepped closer to her with an uninvited intensity.
"I'm desperate," he muttered, his voice rough and low, "how much you can pay me?"
Nana recoiled instinctively, her heartbeat quickening. "Excuse me?"
The man didn't back off, his eyes narrowing as he watched her with an odd, calculating gaze. "Are you holding something, miss?"
Nana's stomach churned, and she forced herself to remain calm. "No…" Her voice was firm, but inside, the anxiety began to pulse like a loud drum in her ears.
The man stepped closer, his breath now hot against her skin as he leaned in slightly, his voice a murmur. "Can you give me 30 bucks? It'll be quick."
Nana's pulse quickened, and the tension in her body escalated. This wasn't right. She took a small step back, trying to put some distance between them. She could feel the panic creeping up on her.
"Sir," she said, her voice rising slightly as she straightened her posture, "this is a women's bathroom. Can you, please, leave?"
But the man just smirked, his eyes flicking to the door and back to her, assessing the situation as if he was calculating the risk. His breath was slow, almost mocking.
"I'm just asking for a little help, miss," he said, his voice growing insistent now, the edge of danger threading through his words.
Nana's heart raced as she tried to remain steady. She couldn't let him intimidate her. She wasn't just some helpless girl. She had faced worse than this.
"Please," she said more firmly this time, her voice cutting through the tension. "Leave. Now."
For a moment, there was silence. His gaze lingered on her, but his eyes shifted—he must have realized she wasn't going to back down. Finally, with a scowl and a low grunt of frustration, he backed off. Without another word, he turned and exited the bathroom, leaving Nana standing there, her pulse still hammering in her chest.
Nana returned to the table, her stomach still twisted with unease from the bathroom encounter. She tried to shake off the lingering tension as she slid back into her seat, forcing a smile. Max, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort, smiled back, eager to dive into their meal. The food had finally arrived, steaming and fragrant, and for a moment, it was easy to get lost in the casual conversation and the clink of silverware.
But Nana couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Her eyes flicked back to the guy from the bathroom, who was now sitting alone at a nearby table. He had stopped making any overt gestures, but something about the way he was watching her—it was unsettling. He wasn't looking at the menu. He wasn't on his phone. His gaze was fixed on her, lingering, almost predatory. It was a cold, calculating stare that made Nana's skin prickle with dread.
She tried to push the thoughts away, focusing back on Max's words, but the feeling in her gut grew more insistent. Her eyes darted back to the man. This time, she couldn't ignore it. His hand was moving under the table, making strange gestures—slow, deliberate, and almost suggestive. The air around her felt thicker, and her heart began to race.
Nana's fingers tightened around her glass, but before she could say anything, the man stood up.
His movements were too quick, too smooth—almost predatory. He took slow, purposeful steps toward her table, his eyes still locked on Nana with that unnerving gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as he closed the distance, his footsteps echoing in the quiet restaurant.
Max hadn't noticed yet, too absorbed in his own thoughts. But Nana felt her instincts scream at her, urging her to do something. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as the man's figure loomed closer, his smile now twisted into something sinister.
She barely managed to swallow the lump in her throat before he spoke. His voice was low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Mind if I join you two?"
Nana's heart raced, the warning bells in her head ringing louder. She instinctively shifted slightly in her seat, her body tense as she glanced quickly at Max. He hadn't noticed the man yet, too focused on his food.
The man, however, seemed unfazed by her discomfort. He leaned in, his gaze lingering on Nana, and his smile twisted into something darker.
"Mind if I sit? It's just… you looked so familiar in the bathroom," he said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of malice. His eyes flicked to Max briefly, sizing him up, before returning to Nana with unnerving intensity.
Max finally looked up, noticing the man's presence, his expression shifting to confusion and wariness. "Who are you?" Max's voice was calm, but there was an undertone of tension.
The man chuckled, as if he found the question amusing. "Oh, just someone who likes to make… new connections."
Nana felt a chill run through her. She knew she couldn't stay passive much longer. She glanced at the door, calculating her chances of escape, but the man had already moved slightly closer, blocking any easy route out. Her phone, now out of reach on the table, felt like a useless tool. The situation was spiraling, and Nana couldn't afford to wait any longer.
With one sharp motion, she stood up, backing away just enough to put some distance between them. Her pulse hammered in her ears, but she forced herself to remain calm.
"Max, we need to leave. Now."
Max's eyes narrowed, sensing the urgency in her voice. He stood up quickly, sensing the threat. "Let's go," he said, taking her arm gently but firmly, guiding her toward the exit.
But before they could take another step, the man's hand shot out, grabbing Nana's wrist with surprising strength. His grip was like iron, his fingers digging into her skin.
"You're not going anywhere," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Nana's breath hitched, and panic surged within her. She knew she couldn't stay here much longer. She had to act fast.
Max reacted instinctively. With a quick jerk, he yanked the man's hand off Nana's wrist and shoved him back, his eyes cold with fury. "Let her go," Max said, his voice low and threatening.
The man stumbled back, surprised by the force of Max's move. But his grin didn't falter. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, sizing them both up.
"Oh, this just got interesting," he murmured.