The moon hung low, throwing its pale light over the crumbling rooftops.
Three figures trudged forward, blood-smudged footprints dragged across the rough gravel.
If they kept moving like this, the hunters would catch up eventually.
On the way out, Noir spotted an abandoned car. No other option—they stole it and drove, as far and as fast as they could.
Specter limped hard, his leg wrapped with a strip of cloth torn from an old shirt. Orion stayed tough, but blood soaked through his right arm. Noir shoved both of them into the car and shot straight into the endless night.
After a long stretch, they pulled up at an abandoned broadcast station on the town's outskirts. The rusted antenna tower leaned like it could collapse any second, and inside were only dead wires and shattered screens.
"Rest here for now. Fix the wounds first." *Noir said, pushing the car door open.*
Specter dropped onto the dusty floor, his leg twinging.
Orion dug into his bag, pulling out a few rough medical supplies. Noir quietly helped him rewrap the wound, her hands cold, steady, and not shaking at all. Orion's injury wasn't too deep, it wouldn't kill him. She replaced Specter's bandage too, his bullet was still stuck inside, blood seeping through the cloth. She handed him a cloth.
"Bite down."
"This is gonna hurt."
Specter bit the cloth. Noir used a small pair of tweezers to pull the bullet out, then cleaned the wound with slow, careful movements. Specter watched her work, a weird mix of warmth and pain hitting his chest.
Once they were done, they gathered to talk about how to throw VOID off their trail. Specter booted up some old equipment, reconnecting loose wires with his mechanical skill.
"I can send out fake signals push our coordinates somewhere else. At least it'll mess with their tracking for a few days."
"Good. Before we left, I planted a micro-jammer. They'll lose direction for a while. That window's our chance to move and find a new hideout." *Noir wiped her hands.*
Orion had been resting with his eyes closed but finally spoke.
"Feels like they slapped a tracker on us or something. Wherever we go, they pop up."
"Jammer works fine, but none of you thought of another possibility?" he added.
"You mean someone's watching from afar?" *Noir raised a brow.*
"Very possible." *Specter nodded.*
"With my skill, I'm confident I can cut them off, but… there's no way we'd be exposed this often by accident." *Specter frowned.*
Silence fell. Outside, the wind blew through the rusted metal, making a creaking sound like some miserable funeral song.
Time was running short. They couldn't stay here. Using Specter's navigation, they found a populated area nearby—good enough to blend in.
The car rolled on. Noir switched seats and let Orion drive. She stared out the window, remembering how she suddenly got dizzy mid-fight earlier. She managed to hold herself together then, but the thought lingered. Specter in the back seat noticed her expression, wanted to ask but figured she needed rest, so he stayed quiet.
The city greeted them with neon lights and nonstop noise.
Nothing like the dead silence of the old town. This place was crowded, chaotic, perfect for hiding… and perfect for getting swallowed whole by one mistake.
Noir pulled her hat low, sunglasses hiding her eyes. Orion wore a loose gray shirt and a cap to hide his blade-sharp gaze. Specter kept things simple, looking like some exhausted office worker dragging himself home.
On the walls and giant ads, Noir's face—her mismatched eyes—flashed with a red warning text.
"Dangerous target. Report immediately if seen."
Luckily for Specter and Orion, their identities hadn't leaked yet. Made things slightly less hellish.
Every time Noir walked past a poster, she felt the stares. People only glanced for a second, then looked away but the tension in her chest never let up.
Orion led them into a run-down house deep inside a forgotten alley. Peeling walls. Crooked wooden doors. Inside, a bed, a tiny kitchen, even an old medicine cabinet.
Orion dropped his bag and sighed.
"At least it's better than those moldy rat-holes."
Noir didn't answer. She took off her jacket, the wound on her shoulder showing under her black tank top. She changed her bandage—every move careful, but exhaustion slipped through anyway. Specter watched her for too long without meaning to.
"Don't stare." Noir cut in—firm, but not harsh.
Specter pressed his lips together and turned away, refocusing on the jammer. The old machines crackled to life, sending out messed-up signals to divert the organization.
Outside, the city kept flowing—cars, lights, crowds.
But in this small, worn-out room, three fugitives huddled together, finally shielded from the hunt.
Noir leaned back against the wall, eyes half-closed. Even with her senses on full alert, she allowed herself one long exhale.
Just a few days.
Just a few days to recover…
***
Back at the organization, the leader had stripped off the heavy gear and slipped into a sharp black suit. He sipped his drink.
"So? Where did those brats run off to?"
One of the operatives answered.
"Sir, we… couldn't locate any traces of them…"
"Maybe they're still nearby. I'll…"
The leader smirked and threw the glass straight at his head. It shattered on impact, shards flying. The whole room froze, no one daring to breathe.
"A whole squad, and you can't catch three rats. That's why all of you…"
"…are defective products."
They bowed their heads, stammering promises to find Noir as fast as possible.
"And then what? They'll still slip away."
"Do your damn jobs. Don't make me drown you myself."
The jammer Noir planted was working perfectly.
***
Late at night, the old house tucked inside the city became their fragile shelter. Weak, but still the only hope they had left.
Suddenly Orion snapped his fingers like he remembered something.
"Hey! I know a guy who retired from the killing biz!" *claps once*
"And?" Noir answered without opening her eyes.
"He used to work for the organization, duh. We could try asking that old man if he'll join us."
"When it comes to machines, he's not losing to our Specter."
Specter looked unsure but asked anyway.
"This guy you mean is…"
"Yes." *Orion nodded.*
"Dr. Aurel."