The moment Raven stepped out of the planning room, something in her posture shifted.
Not abruptly. Not dramatically.
Like a switch being turned without sound.
The slight inward curve of her shoulders straightened. The careful containment she had worn at the table loosened. Her breathing evened out—not shallow, not measured. Steady. Predatory.
The fear that had pressed against her ribs minutes ago did not vanish.
It went quiet.
Buried beneath something colder. Sharper.
Purpose.
The corridor lights reflected off the matte black plating of her gear as she walked. Her boots made no sound against the reinforced flooring. Every step was controlled, economical, unhurried.
Anyone watching her now would never guess what she had looked like inside that planning room.
They would only see what she allowed them to see.
Raven.
Weapon.
Vespera Solace stood near the exit bay, tablet in hand. Her gaze lifted as Raven approached.
"You have your route," Vespera said.
"Yes."
"No deviations."
"Only if necessary."
A pause.
Vespera studied her face.
Not searching. Not questioning.
Measuring.
"Bring back the data," Vespera said. "No loose ends."
Raven's lips curved into something that was not quite a smile.
"Always."
The transport doors slid open.
Darkness waited inside.
Raven stepped into it without hesitation.
---
The city below burned with artificial light.
Towers pierced low-hanging clouds like jagged teeth. Traffic lines glowed in thin streams, distant and irrelevant. The target facility sat on the outskirts of the industrial sector, disguised as a defunct manufacturing plant.
Disguised.
Nothing about it was abandoned.
Raven crouched at the edge of the adjacent rooftop, body perfectly still, cloak fluttering faintly in the wind.
Her comm buzzed once.
"Signal clean," a voice murmured.
Raven didn't reply.
She didn't need to.
She calculated distance. Wind. Angle.
Then jumped.
The space between buildings vanished beneath her.
She landed in a controlled roll, absorbing impact through her shoulders and spine before rising fluidly into a crouch.
No pause.
No breath wasted.
She moved.
A maintenance hatch waited where the schematics said it would.
Raven slid a slim blade from her wrist sheath and inserted it into the seam.
Twist. Pressure. Click.
The hatch opened silently.
She slipped inside.
Darkness swallowed her.
The interior air was warm. Stale. Thick with the faint hum of hidden servers and industrial-grade ventilation.
Raven activated her thermal overlay.
Human shapes flared into existence beyond the walls.
Two guards at the end of the corridor.
One leaning. One pacing.
Raven advanced.
Her footsteps were soundless.
She closed the distance in seconds.
The first guard never saw her.
Raven's knife slid beneath his jaw, precise and deep. She caught his body before it could fall, lowering him gently to the floor.
The second guard turned at the faint shift of air.
Raven stepped into his space and drove her elbow into his throat.
Cartilage collapsed.
He choked.
She twisted his head sharply.
The sound was dull. Final.
Raven didn't look back.
She moved on.
Cameras lined the ceiling.
She tossed a small disc upward.
It latched.
Lights blinked.
Loop engaged.
Raven slipped beneath the frozen gaze and continued forward.
A door blocked her path.
Biometric lock.
Raven pressed a small patch against the panel.
Green light.
The door slid open.
Inside: a narrow stairwell descending into shadow.
She took it without slowing.
The deeper she went, the quieter the world became.
No distant traffic. No city noise.
Only ventilation. Only heartbeat.
Hers never changed.
Two more guards at the lower level.
Raven drew her gun.
Silencer attached.
Two shots.
Two bodies.
She stepped over them.
A steel door marked with a faded corporate logo stood ahead.
The data vault.
Raven knelt.
Pulled a compact interface from her belt.
Plugged in.
Code streamed across her lens display.
Her fingers moved.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Certain.
The lock disengaged.
The door opened.
Cold air washed over her.
The room beyond glowed with soft blue light.
Rows of servers hummed in neat, endless lines.
Raven entered.
This was the heart.
She crossed to the central terminal.
Inserted her drive.
Data began to transfer.
Progress bar appeared.
12%.
Raven scanned the room.
Nothing moved.
No alarms.
Too quiet.
She frowned slightly.
22%.
She toggled auxiliary feeds.
Nothing.
33%.
Her jaw tightened.
Something felt wrong.
Not fear.
Pattern.
The absence of resistance.
44%.
Raven accessed the internal directory.
Folders unfolded.
Encrypted.
Nested.
Buried.
She selected a subdirectory.
More encryption.
Vespera had said sensitive.
This was beyond sensitive.
This was hidden inside hidden.
Raven initiated deeper breach.
The screen flickered.
Data bloomed.
Names.
Accounts.
Transaction trails.
Her eyes moved rapidly.
Illegal weapons shipments.
Human trafficking routes.
Political payoffs.
This wasn't a smuggling ring.
This was infrastructure.
52%.
A new folder caught her attention.
Marked only with a symbol.
No text.
Just a black triangle inside a white circle.
Raven selected it.
Another encryption layer appeared.
Thicker.
Heavier.
Military-grade.
Her fingers hovered.
This wasn't in the briefing.
67%.
Raven began cracking the secondary lock.
The code fought back.
Not aggressively.
Elegantly.
Someone very good had built this.
Her lips parted slightly.
Interesting.
Her fingers accelerated.
82%.
The secondary encryption fractured.
The folder opened.
And Raven's breath stuttered for the first time that night.
The screen filled with files.
Classified insignias.
High-clearance stamps.
Names that did not belong anywhere near an industrial smuggling base.
Government liaisons.
Private military contracts.
And a single document at the top of the list.
Flagged in red.
PRIORITY ASSET PROFILE
Raven stared at the title.
The progress bar hit 100%.
The drive pulsed once.
Complete.
Behind her—
Something shifted.
Very softly.
Raven's hand tightened around her gun.
She did not turn.
Not yet.