Beyond the mission

Jason tried to keep his composure, voice low and dry. "Relax. It's not what you think."

Daphne blinked, finally registering who it was-and what she'd just yelled. Her face turned crimson. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean that, it was just- I was having this weird dream."

Jason raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Weird enough to wake up screaming pervert?"

She immediately turned her face away, hiding the heat rushing to her cheeks. "Y-you don't need to know the details..."

Jason gave a slight smirk but said nothing.

Daphne, still trying to get a grip, sniffed the air-and paused. Her eyes widened. "Wait... is that... fried rice?"

Jason held up the container like it was some kind of peace offering. "Courtesy of Brandon. He begged me to deliver it. Honestly, I preferred the dream version of this conversation."

Jason tossed her the food. "Eat it. Then go back to sleep. Or cry some more. Whatever you do, stop making Brandon worry. It's exhausting."

Daphne watched him as he turned to leave then whispered "thanks".

"Don't mention it. Seriously-don't. And try not to sleep on the floor again-we don't need a corpse before the mission even starts," Jason said, his voice calm but sharp as a blade.

Daphne gave a small tired smile. "Let me guess... Brandon told you to say that too?"

Jason was already at the door, glancing over his shoulder. "No. That one was all me finish that and get some sleep you'll need both."

Daphne watched him walk out, her heart weirdly pounding.

"...Stupid cool guy exit," she muttered under her breath.

Daphne stared after him for a moment, her expression unreadable. She finished the fried rice in silence, then stepped out, glancing around the dimly lit plane. That's when she spotted Brandon, subtly motioning her over. She hesitated... then gave in. She was exhausted, and his presence oddly comforting.

"You sure took your time," Brandon teased with a tired grin.

"Yeah... sorry about that," Daphne murmured, already slumping into the seat beside him. Her head gently fell onto his shoulder, and within seconds, she was asleep.

Brandon blinked, face flushing faintly, then relaxed. "Guess I'll get some sleep too," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Meanwhile-miles away-on a secured comm-line deep within Saint Lucian's dark networks, a shadowy figure stood alone in an unlit room.

The voice was cold, calculated. "You're about to have... unexpected visitors."

On the other end, the mercenary commander stiffened. "Who is this? How do you know that?"

The figure ignored the question. "S-Rank assassins are on their way to your base. And... they're not alone."

A pause. Then- "What are you talking about?"

The figure leaned forward, lips curling into a wicked grin. "Vortex is with them."

Silence. Then panic.

"V...Vortex? You mean-the Vortex?!"

"He's with them. This may be your only chance to erase him from existence," the voice whispered like a curse. "Don't waste it."

The line cut abruptly.

The figure turned to the window, watching the storm clouds roll in over the city.

"Let's see how far you've come, Jason," the voice murmured in the darkness. "I want to see if the rumors... are true."

"APPROACHING TARGET ZONE. ETA: 30 MINUTES."

The automated voice jolted them awake. Jason stood, eyes sharp, and signaled everyone to gather. He didn't raise his voice-he never had to. The weight of what was ahead did all the talking.

After the quick rundown of the infiltration plan, the group slowly scattered to prepare. But Daphne stayed behind, her mind spinning.

This plan... it feels too smooth. Too clean. Where's the chaos? The unexpected? And why does it feel like I'm just... background?She sighed and finally stepped forward.

"Jason," she called quietly.

He turned, cool.

"I just-if this plan goes south... shouldn't we have a Plan B?"

Jason's gaze lingered on her for a second longer before turning away.

"There is a Plan B."

Daphne blinked. "Then why wasn't I-?"

"You might not survive long enough to need it," he said bluntly, already walking away.

It hit her like a slap. "You arrogant-!"

Brandon grabbed her shoulder with a grin before she could follow. "Relax, he's not serious... mostly." He leaned in. "Come on, I'll fill you in on Plan B."

After the full explanation, they both turned toward the screens showing a grainy surveillance image of a boy-Liam, their target.

Brandon whistled low. "Damn... kid looks just like Jason. If Jason ever had a clone with black hair."

Daphne raised a brow. "Let's hope he doesn't share the attitude."

Their plane touched down moments later, wheels skimming across a snow-bitten runway hidden deep in a forest. The cold seeped through the walls like a warning.

They were near the mansion now.

No turning back. The mission had officially begun.

As the ramp hissed open, wind blasted in-sharp, dry, and merciless. Snow crunched under their boots as the team stepped off the plane, their eyes narrowing against the blinding white stretch of wilderness ahead.

Jason led, his coat flaring behind him like a shadow. "Stay sharp," he muttered without looking back. "No unnecessary chatter. We don't know what's waiting for us."

Brandon followed, adjusting the strap of his rifle. "Creepy place. Bet the walls whisper at night."

Daphne stuck close, trying not to shiver-whether from the cold or the nerves, even she wasn't sure. Her eyes locked on the distant silhouette of the mansion, barely visible through the trees. Black. Monolithic. Silent.

Howl, walking at the rear, let out a low chuckle. "Feels like home already."

Seraphina rolled her eyes. "Try not to stab anyone before we get inside."

They split into formation as rehearsed-Jason, Daphne, and Brandon taking point while the others circled wide to flank. The snow muffled their steps, but the tension in the air was loud enough to choke on.

As they neared the mansion's frozen iron gates, Daphne's fingers brushed against her concealed blade. She stole a glance at Jason, who hadn't said a word since they landed.

He stopped without warning.

A sharp whistle cut through the cold-then gunfire.

"Down!" Jason barked, tackling Daphne behind a snow-dusted boulder just as bullets ripped through the space where they'd been standing.

Brandon dove to cover beside them, gritting his teeth. "Well, so much for subtle."

Jason peeked over the rock, eyes narrowing. "Snipers. Two at least. South wing. Suppressed rounds. Professional."

From the tree line, Riley's voice crackled through the comms. "They're already set up. Either we walked into a trap, or they've been watching this place longer than we thought."

"Howl?" Jason asked sharply.

A dark laugh echoed back. "Oh, don't worry. I'm already inside."

Jason's eye twitched. "Of course he is."

Brandon nudged Daphne. "You good?"

She nodded, catching her breath. "Yeah. Just wondering how we're adopting a kid in the middle of a gunfight."

Jason's voice cut in coldly. "You don't. You survive the gunfight. Then you get the kid."

With that, he sprang from cover, flanking wide through the snow with terrifying precision. Brandon followed, firing cover shots while motioning Daphne to stay low.

Inside the mansion, Howl moved like a ghost, already dismantling a guard with quiet efficiency. His eyes gleamed in the dim corridor as he whispered to himself, "Let's see how long this house of lies holds up."

Back outside, Daphne pressed herself against the cold stone wall near the back entrance. Her breath hitched as Jason appeared beside her, flicking blood from his blade.

He didn't look at her.

"Stay close. Don't slow me down."

Daphne narrowed her eyes, heart pounding. "I won't."

And together, they slipped inside. The real mission had begun.

The mansion's interior was dim-flickering chandeliers above, velvet drapes swaying slightly from broken windows, and an eerie silence layered over everything like dust.

Jason moved ahead with silent confidence, every footstep calculated. Daphne stayed close, gripping the dagger Brandon had given her. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, but her steps didn't falter.

Brandon joined them seconds later, whispering, "East wing's clear. Howl's somewhere up ahead. Riley and Seraphina are circling from the west."

Jason nodded. "Then we corner them from both ends."

A sudden crash echoed through the halls. Then silence.

Daphne whispered, "That sounded like glass."

Jason responded with a deadly calm, "Sounded like bait."

They turned a corner-and stopped.

They stepped into the room-and there it was.

A golden artifact, flawless and untouched, standing alone on an ornate table beneath a shaft of light. It shimmered unnaturally, like it wanted to be noticed.

"Way too perfect," Jason muttered. His eyes narrowed. They think this is our target... They're baiting us.

Daphne took one cautious step forward.

Jason's voice snapped through the silence-"No, wait-!"

Click.

A soft sound. Then chaos.

Daphne's eyes shot to the ceiling. Panels slid open. Auto-turrets dropped like fangs from above.

Jason lunged, grabbing her by the arm and hurling her behind a pillar as bullets tore through the air. Sparks exploded. Stone chipped. Brandon dove and rolled beside them.

"Kill room!" he shouted, clutching his rifle. "Why is it always a kill room?!"

Jason pressed his comm. "Howl! We found some artifact-but the entire hallway's rigged!"

Static.

Then came Howl's voice-unbothered and borderline amused:

"Ah. You tripped it. I was wondering how long it'd take. Sit tight-I'll kill the lights."

Brandon reloaded. "Think he'll actually do it?"

Jason pulled a throwing knife from his belt, eyes fixed on the turret blinking overhead. "We don't have the luxury to doubt him. Cover me."

Daphne clutched her dagger tighter, heart racing. Her eyes flicked to the artifact. Still glowing. Still untouched. Still wrong.

Then-click.

The power cut out.

Everything went black.

Silence.

Then a whisper of wind, the faint hum of a generator dying.

Emergency red lights flickered on as the backup kicked in. The turrets hung dead, smoke curling from their barrels.

Jason stood up slowly, eyes sweeping the area. "We're clear."

Moments later, the squad regrouped at the end of the corridor.

Howl strolled in first, smirking like he owned the place. "You're welcome for saving your asses. Again."

Jason shot him a cold glance. "It wouldn't have happened if you stayed in position like I said."

He turned sharply toward Daphne, voice low and deadly. "And you-stepping into an obvious trap? Next time, I'll let the turrets finish the job."

Daphne flinched, eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry..."

Seraphina folded her arms, leaning against a pillar. "Told you she was dead weight."

Jason ignored her.

Instead, he turned to Riley. "You picked anything up from the guards?"

Riley nodded. "Yeah. Eavesdropped on some chatter-apparently, the kid's not here. There's a safe house, few miles north. Liam's there-with his family."

Jason took a moment. Processing. Calculating.

Then he spoke, voice like a blade:

"Then we move. Now. Before they realize we're still breathing."

The team followed without a word.

And behind them, the golden artifact flickered... and cracked.

The wind howled outside the safe house, biting cold swirling through the trees as Jason and his squad crouched behind a snow-covered wall. The moonlight gave the mansion a silver hue-silent, still, and hostile.

Jason's voice was low, commanding. "We move in quiet. Split up, sweep the interior. No noise, no shadows."

His gaze flicked to Daphne. "You-watch the perimeter. Stay out of sight. If anyone comes or anything feels off, give the signal. Three taps on comms. No hero moves."

Daphne nodded, gripping her dagger, lips tight. "Got it."

"Howl, take east wing. Riley, upstairs. Brandon, you're with me. Seraphina-roof entry."

Everyone moved with swift precision, melting into the shadows like phantoms.

Jason paused just before heading in, turning one last time to Daphne. His unreadable expression flickered into something barely human-concern maybe-but he said nothing and vanished inside.

Daphne exhaled slowly and took her position by a shattered window overlooking the front path. Snowflakes drifted lazily, but her mind was sharp. Focused. Watching.

Inside, things weren't as quiet.

Jason slipped through the hall, knifing the back of a guard without hesitation, catching the body before it dropped. Brandon gave a low whistle. "Clean."

Jason replied coldly, "Focus."

Meanwhile, Seraphina climbed through the attic hatch, soundless, scanning for cameras. Riley moved like a shadow upstairs, already disabling sensors and mapping guard rotations. Howl, of course, left his own trail-whistling as he casually choked a man out behind a supply room door.

The dining room was dimly lit, the chandeliers casting long shadows across the polished wooden table. Liam sat stiffly at one side, isolated from the rest. His stepmother and stepsister sat to the left, chatting softly, while his father occupied the head of the table, silently observing him.

The fork in Liam's hand barely moved.

"Liam," his father's voice cut through the quiet like a blade. "You're not eating. Why?"

Liam sat up straighter, fumbling with his words. "Oh, I-uh-I'm not hungry, sir... I mean, Dad."

His father's eyes narrowed. "Look at me when you speak. If you can't even hold your father's gaze, how do you plan to survive in this world?"

Liam swallowed, forcing his eyes upward.

Just then, a guard entered and leaned into the father's ear, whispering something low.

The father frowned. "Hmm. I see. Wrap that up quickly."

Liam's mother looked over, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. Minor issue with some staff. It's being handled," he said smoothly.

Liam took that as his cue. "I think I'll head to bed now. Goodnight, Mom... Dad."

"Go," the father said without looking at him.

As Liam walked the hall toward his room, the air felt... off. Too quiet. He paused.

His eyes caught something-a foot sticking out from the corner.

He rushed over.

A guard was down. Still breathing, but out cold.

That was when a hand clamped around his wrist like steel.

"Caught ya," came a voice right beside him-low, amused, dangerous.

Liam snapped his head up-Howl stood over him, grinning like a devil, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim corridor light.

Liam gasped, trying to pull away, but Howl leaned in close.

"Don't scream, kid. Wouldn't want to wake the whole house, would we?"

The hunt had begun.

Howl had the boy slung over his shoulder, swaggering through the blood‑streaked hallway like he owned the place. Then the shot echoed.

BAM!

A round tore through the air, burying itself into Howl's shoulder. He froze mid‑stride.

"Finally," came the voice behind him-cold, precise.

Aiden, a towering commander of the guards, stood over them, gun still smoking. "Thought I'd get a look at the monster that's been cutting down my men like pigs."

Howl turned slowly. A smile curled on his lips-unnatural, fluid. His eyes glowed with something feral.

"Finally something fun," he whispered, voice soft, dripping menace.

Aiden's jaw dropped. "Is... is this guy even human? I knew I hit him. How is he still moving?"

Around them the guards flooded in, assault rifles raised. Howl dropped to one knee-calm-and pointed at them with his free hand.

"Surrounded?" he said, voice like ice. "Perfect."

Aiden barked: "Liam! Get away-now!"

The boy staggered back, fear cracking his face. Howl didn't move. Didn't flinch.

---

Outside, in the frozen underbrush, Daphne crouched low, rifle at the ready. Snow drifted around her like ghost smoke. Figures approached-, no uniforms, precise movements like predator wolve, She know what she had to do!

Three taps. Jason's comm crackled.

His voice over the shortwave: "Signal."

Brandon's whisper: "You think she's in trouble?"

Jason didn't hesitate:

"No. I think we are."

His tone flat. Deadly.

Brandon and Jason were encircled now-four shadows surrounding two. Jason cracked a grin, low and cold.

"Assassins," he said.

"Go...I'll hold them off."

He launched forward in one fluid motion-blade flashed, first attacker went down before he even landed.

Liam's family remained seated in the dining room, unaware of the chaos erupting just rooms away. The tension was thick, but the calm shattered as a guard burst in, breath ragged.

"Sir! We're under atta-"

CRACK.

A single, sharp sound - and blood sprayed across the marble floor. The guard dropped like a stone, eyes wide in shock. Standing behind him was Brandon, crouched low, one hand gripping the hilt of a still-warm blade embedded in the man's spine.

He rose slowly, unbothered, brushing invisible dust from his gloves.

"Hmm," he muttered, eyes locking onto the family at the table - Liam's father frozen in disbelief, Hannah trembling beside her stepmother.

Brandon stepped forward, boots silent. His gaze swept the room like a hawk.

"No kid," he said, voice cold. "Looks like I'm in the wrong room."

He stepped over the corpse with eerie grace. "Guess I'll check the next one. Don't wait up."

And just like that, he vanished into the hall.

Panic finally cracked the room open.

Another guard charged in seconds later, wild-eyed.

"Sir, we have to go now-before he comes back!"

Liam's father snapped out of his shock. "R-Right. Gather the others. Move!"

But the mother stood her ground. "Wait-what about Liam?! My son is still in this house!"

Before anyone could answer, two new figures stepped into the room. Not guards - not by the way they moved. Their black, close-fitted combat suits were marked with subtle symbols. Their steps were too controlled. Calculated. Trained.

One was a tall woman with braided hair and a curved dagger at her side. The other, a lean man with sharp eyes scanning every exit.

The woman spoke, cool and direct.

"Ma'am, we're with the Shadow Recon Unit. Your son is a priority asset. We'll extract him safely."

The mother's breath hitched, but she nodded. "Please... bring him back."

The man gave a curt nod. "On our lives."

As the family was escorted out, the house around them rumbled faintly - distant gunfire echoing through the walls.

Liam's time was running out.