INT. LUNAR CABARET – DOWNTOWN
The beat pounded in her chest, echoing louder than the music itself.
Lights flickered with every bass drop, glasses clinked, laughter burst, and liquor poured like running water.
It filled the air—thick, dizzying, almost suffocating.
Evah exhaled through parted lips.
How did I get here? she asked herself.
Then the memory returned—bright, sudden, like a flash of lightning.
Y'RUEN MAIN STREET — ACADEMY CENTRE
After the lecture, the restrooms were full—students changing clothes, chatting, reapplying makeup before heading out.
Evah slipped into one of the cubicles, clutching her bag close.
She promised her new classmates she'd join them for a small celebration—just one night before the next wave of projects buried them again.
She changed into a light camisole and blazer, tied her hair into a ponytail, and started packing her things back into her bag.
Ready to join back with her friends waiting outside the gates.
Her fingers had just touched the metal lock when footsteps echoed in, followed by hushed whispers.
"Did you hear? Someone from the Order's here."
A young, pitchy voice—half thrill, half fear.
"You mean the Grand Covenant Order?" another voice replied, lower and steadier. "You think that rumor's real?"
Evah froze, her hand still on the lock. She tried not to listen, but every word pulled her in. It almost sounded like they were talking about her.
"I don't think it's impossible," the first voice said again, her small tone echoing through the restroom. "Plus, they might just be trying to recruit people to join the Order," she added, like she was telling a horror story.
A new voice broke in, trembling. "Stop it, Hina! You're scaring me."
Evah gripped the strap of her bag tighter. That's right, she thought. Before I joined the Order, I used to be afraid of them too.
Lipsticks clicked open. Powders brushed against mirrors. The chatter didn't stop.
"Can you even say no if they come up to you—like those scary guys in movies—and say, 'Work for us'?" the one named Hina said, imitating a weird voice.
"Stop it!" the frightened girl yelped, her voice a little louder this time.
"But seriously," Hina said again, "what would a GCO member even do here? They're already, like, top-tier."
"Who knows?" the calm voice replied. "Maybe they have targets among us."
"Oh, don't say that! I'll have nightmares!"
Evah sighed silently. No one knows I'm from the Order, she reminded herself.
And maybe that's for the best.
She just wished they'd finish already so she could leave and catch up with the classmates she'd made friends with outside.
Then came a name she didn't expect.
"I remember the Major General—"
"Shut up," the calm girl interrupted sharply.
"Hina, don't," another hissed. "You'll get us all in trouble."
Evah's breath caught. The smell of soap and floor cleaner filled her senses, sharp and sterile.
"Sorry, sorry!" Hina said, voice dropping. "But you know the rumor… that he killed people in his last zone, like his people?"
Erion? Her brows arched. He'd been accused of many things before, but she'd never heard that specific one.
Then the image came — his face splattered with blood, pale skin streaked red, expression unreadable. His eyes, sharp and blazing blue, pierced through the haze like twin flames. Cold. Unforgiving. The kind of stare that could hollow a person out.
"It was never confirmed," the calmer one said. "Could just be propaganda."
"Sure," Hina said mockingly. "But when it's the Order, people just disappear, right?"
A nervous laugh. "Maybe I should join them and get rid of people I don't like."
The others groaned, and their laughter trailed away with the sound of heels on tile—until only silence and the faint dripping of a faucet remained.
Evah stepped out of the cubicle. The restroom was empty now, lit by the dull fluorescent hum.
She faced the fogged mirror—her reflection ghosted in the steam.
Once, she had seen the Order the same way—cold, terrifying, untouchable.
But now that she was part of it, hearing others say it aloud… It hurts.
Was I blinded by what's inside those walls?
Or was the world outside too quick to hate what it didn't understand?
Her reflection blurred, and for a moment, she saw something else—
Blue eyes, hollow and tired. A shadow of him.
You can't fix me.
The memory echoed, deep and distant.
Her throat tightens, words wanted to come out but she stopped it.
Her thoughts continue. Even if it's wrong.
Even if I don't know what's right anymore.
Her hands clenched into fists.
I still want to believe in what I see.
In what they gave me.
The laughter in the office, the sincerity of her colleagues in the lab, the simple greetings from people in other departments — they all echoed in her mind like gentle reminders of warmth.
She inhaled slowly, her voice trembling.
"Yuka… I hope you can forgive me."
The faucet dripped again.
The reflection stayed.
And in it — her eyes looked steadier.