The room was charged with tension... there was no room for relaxation. Everyone inside was alert, anticipating the next moment. Ken stood by the wall, his arms not crossed this time, but hanging close to his sides, ready for anything. Landon, though staring out the window, held his shoulders stiffly, as if expecting something to happen at any second. As for Nott, he stood in the center, his breaths steady on the surface, but inside, a storm of anticipation raged.
The clock struck.
The metallic chime echoed, slicing through the silence. At that very moment, Lorian spoke, her voice cold and unwavering.
Lorian: "Are you ready?"
Nott didn't answer immediately. A brief pause passed before he gave a slight nod, his face void of emotion.
Lorian allowed the faintest hint of a smile... barely there... before she spoke again, her voice calm yet carrying an order that left no room for discussion.
Lorian: "Alright, go now."
Nott needed no further instruction. In less than a blink, he vanished from his place, leaving behind only the faint echo of his transition.
Lorian: "To your positions... now."
There was no hesitation, no moment wasted.
Ken did not move... he vanished. As if the darkness had swallowed him whole, or perhaps he had been part of it all along. There was no sound, no whisper, no shift in the air. Just complete disappearance, as though his presence had been nothing more than an illusion.
As for Landon, the air was his ally. With the grace of a seasoned assassin, he glided through the room, so light that the floor never seemed to register his steps. One step, then another... then nothing. Only empty space remained where he had stood just moments ago.
Neither of them needed further instruction. The mission had begun.
Corvis Hotel – Seventh floor. Inside a locked storage cleaning cabinet.
In absolute silence, Nott materialized within the confined space, surrounded by rows of cold metal shelves. The air was thick with the scent of iron, unmoving, heavy... waiting for something, or someone, to disturb it.
Slowly, he reached out, his fingertips grazing the metal door of the cabinet. The chill seeped into his skin, but it wasn't the cold that concerned him... it was the silence. The absolute, suffocating silence that always preceded the storm.
A faint tap.
Then, with practiced precision, he pushed the door open just enough. No more than necessary, no less than required. The hinge remained soundless, as if the air itself conspired to keep his presence a secret.
His eyes swept across the room, taking in every detail. Every move from this moment on could mean the difference between life and death.
One Week Ago – Inside Lorian's Office
The atmosphere inside the office was quiet, but it was far from comfortable. There was no disorder... everything was in its perfect place, as if chaos itself was not permitted here. Yet, despite this order, an unspoken tension filled the air, as if the walls held secrets that were never meant to be spoken aloud.
Lorian sat behind her desk, her posture straight, her gaze fixed on Nott, who stood before her, alert without realizing it. She pushed a few papers aside, then interlocked her fingers atop the desk before speaking. Her voice was calm, yet carried a weight that could not be ignored.
Lorian: "Can you tell me… how does your ability work? What are the fundamental conditions that allow you to teleport?"
Nott didn't respond immediately. He remained silent for a few seconds, as if the question had brought with it a burden he wasn't prepared to carry. He blinked twice before finally answering, his voice slightly low, carrying a cautious tone.
Nott: "…Why?"
Lorian showed no reaction. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as if she had expected this response. She continued with the same controlled composure:
Lorian: "How do you know the place you want to teleport to? Do you need to see it? Or do you require its coordinates?"
She paused briefly before adding, as if laying down a decisive card:
Lorian: "Tell me, because our plan depends on it."
Something in Nott's expression shifted... subtle, but there. A flicker of caution turning into hesitation. He neither answered nor moved. For a moment, it seemed as though he was on the verge of revealing something that shouldn't be revealed.
Lorian watched him closely... the tension in his shoulders, the way he avoided direct eye contact. This was more than just a question for him. It was an exposure of his weaknesses.
Silently, she raised a hand in a small gesture toward Landon and Ken. She didn't speak; she didn't need to. Both of them understood and left the room without protest, the door closing softly behind them.
Silence settled in, but this time, it was different. Now, it was just Lorian and Nott.
She leaned back slightly in her chair, as if offering him a sense of ease, then fixed him with a direct, piercing gaze before speaking in a quiet yet assured tone:
Lorian: "Now you can speak freely. You don't consider me untrustworthy, do you? After all… I'm the one who saved your life."
A heavy silence settled between them, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for his answer. It wasn't an ordinary silence... it was charged, filled with unspoken thoughts, with hesitation so palpable it almost echoed in the space that separated them.
Nott looked away for a moment, as if searching for the right words in some unseen corner of the room. His fingers tensed slightly before relaxing again, his breathing slow but measured, as if he were weighing every possibility before speaking.
A heavy silence hung between them, as if the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for his answer. It wasn't an ordinary silence, but one charged with unspoken thoughts, a hesitation almost audible in the void that separated them.
Not looked away for a moment, as if searching for the right words in an invisible corner of the room. His fingers tightened slightly before relaxing, his breath slow but measured, as if weighing each possibility before he spoke.
Nott: "It's... touch."
He paused, glancing at his hands, as if deciding how to frame what he was about to reveal.
Nott: "The fundamental condition for my ability is touch."
Lorian stopped playing with the pen between her fingers, her eyes fixed on him, glowing with curiosity.
Nott: "I can only teleport instantly when I'm in direct contact with a physical object... like the ground, the ceiling, a wall, or a bag."
There was a slight hesitation in his voice, but it held firm, like a man who had made peace with his words.
Nott: "This contact provides the necessary starting point to activate my teleportation. Tangible materials like floors or walls or solid objects serve as anchor points, enhancing my ability to teleport. I need direct contact because these materials contain particles that act as energy transfer points."
Lorian didn't interrupt, but she tilted her head slightly, as if considering his words, or perhaps searching for a flaw in his explanation.
Nott: "When I touch a physical object, I interact with the particles in that object and the particles in the surrounding environment. This interaction creates a link between me and the other object I wish to teleport to."
There was a subtle change in his tone as he elaborated, his words gaining depth.
Nott: "The particles in the object I touch form a 'network of energy-particle interactions' that allow me to travel through this network to another object that contains the same type of particles or energy links."
Lorian's gaze remained focused, but her expression was thoughtful, trying to grasp the full scope of his explanation.
Nott: "I see the world through a special filter, almost like I can see a 'mirage' of places with particles I can interact with. This vision lets me identify suitable objects to teleport to. I can only activate this vision when my eyes are open."
Lorian smiled faintly, as if she had pieced something together from what he had said earlier.
Lorian: "Oh... so that's why you wear a patch over your eyes? To hide your weakness?"
Nott paused for a brief moment before replying quietly.
Nott: "Kind of..."
Another brief silence passed, heavy yet comfortable, as the weight of their conversation hung between them. Then Lorian returned to her probing tone, cutting through the tension like a scalpel.
Lorian: "So... when you're in the air, or falling from a height, your ability depends on finding something physical to touch. Does that mean you need to find something to hold onto or make contact with a moving object in the air, like a plane or something else?"
Nott: "Yes... I can use moving objects in the air, like a kite or a bag, as tools for teleportation. If I'm falling, I can interact with the air itself as a medium, where I can communicate with the particles in the air that help me transport myself to a nearby object once I hit the ground."
Lorian remained silent, but her eyes didn't leave him, a silent intensity in her gaze as if she was processing every word.
Nott: "I can teleport whenever I want, but it requires a state of focus. I have to be aware, and I need to stabilize long enough to interact properly with the surrounding particles."
He met her gaze directly, as if he was about to reveal something else, but hesitated. Then, in a quieter, more serious tone, he continued.
Nott: "There's another condition that limits my ability... If I stay in direct contact with a physical object for a full minute, the particles around that object begin to detach from me gradually."
Lorian raised an eyebrow, her expression one of careful thought, trying to understand the full ramifications of his words.
Nott: "This means that the particle links allowing me to teleport are temporarily disrupted. Once these links are interrupted, I lose the ability to use that object as a teleportation anchor. In other words, I can't use that object to travel to another place."
Lorian nodded slowly, her gaze shifting away for a moment, considering the implications of this new information.
Nott: "So if I touch something constantly... like my clothes, my shoes, or anything I interact with for over a minute... the particles surrounding these things will become useless, and I won't be able to teleport through them. As a result, I have to choose carefully which objects I use for teleportation and avoid relying on anything I'm in constant contact with."
There was a long pause as Lorian processed everything he had said, her eyes sharp and attentive. Then she spoke, her voice cutting through the stillness.
Lorian: "In other words... You can teleport anywhere, at any time, as long as you touch a physical object for less than a minute, and you are aware of the object you want to teleport to by seeing it through the network of energy-particle links."
She took a deep breath, the weight of the complex details settling in.
Lorian: "That's an awful lot of complicated details..."
Nott: "Someone I know told me that."
Lorian didn't respond right away. She took a moment to absorb that, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if there was something more behind his words. Then, she pressed forward, her voice direct and unyielding.
Lorian: "Alright, now... what's your real weakness?"
Nott froze for a split second, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if caught off guard by the question.
Nott: "…What do you mean? I told you everything just now."
Lorian: "Do you really expect me to believe that a special ability that lets you teleport anywhere, anytime, would have only these basic conditions?"
She leaned in a little, resting on the table, her eyes intense as they fixed on him.
Lorian: "What's the deadly condition? The one that limits your ability, that makes it difficult to use freely or puts real constraints on it?"
She stopped, her gaze hardening as she added.
Lorian: "And don't try to lie to me, because I'll ask for proof."
Nott took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her challenge. His thoughts raced, but he didn't show it, keeping his face unreadable.
Nott: "[Damn it... I didn't think she'd figure it out after I told her all those details...]"
At first, Nott sighed, his gaze shifting between the ground and Lorian's face before he looked back at her. There was something in his eyes that hinted at hesitation, as if he were struggling with an internal conflict. A long moment passed, filled with heavy tension in the air, before he finally spoke in a low voice, as if pulling the words from the depths of his heart with deliberate care, as if insisting that they be the right ones for this moment.
Nott: "It's... vascular erosion..."
The words cut through the silence like a knife. Lorian couldn't stop herself from halting suddenly, as if an electric shock had struck her. Her eyes widened as her mind reeled from grasping the horrifying explanation, trying to piece together the missing fragments. She was in complete confusion.
Lorian: "W...what?!"
Nott took a deep breath, followed by another silence... short pauses that felt like minutes. He was contemplating how to explain the harsh details of his ability, a power that felt more like a curse than a gift. It wasn't easy for him, but it was the truth he had to face.
Nott: "When I teleport frequently to distant places,"
He paused, as if he needed to weigh his words carefully, as if recalling the physical agony in his mind.
Nott: "My body's ability to handle the energy shifts and the pressure caused by these teleportations is limited."
His words were heavy, and with each one, Lorian sank deeper. They struck the ground beneath her feet like consecutive gunshots. She absorbed every word, and in her mind, the details were coming together into a disturbing picture. Each letter left an imprint in the void.
Nott: "The farther I teleport, the more intense the pressure on my blood vessels, which assist me in interacting with surrounding particles. This causes the vessels to swell and stretch."
There was no longer any distance between them. Nott's words were sharp, direct, like real fangs sinking into the heart of the situation. Lorian stood still, trying to process everything. She was lost in deep thought, watching the details unfold before her.
Nott: "When I teleport far distances or teleport multiple times in a short span, the veins in my hands and the vessels responsible for my connection to the surrounding particles begin to expand and swell due to energy pressure. This swelling becomes visible on my skin, creating an unusual visual effect."
Lorian observed Nott's hands as he spoke, as if she could see through his voice the wrinkles forming in his body, the distortion caused by this pressure.
Nott: "The more frequently I teleport, the more stress is placed on my blood vessels. That's why I need a recovery period ranging from 15 to 72 minutes for the vessels to heal and return to their normal state."
The moment was filled with heavy silence. Lorian didn't interrupt; she remained quiet, as if his words were sinking into her mind with a faint ache, colliding with her awareness with each new revelation.
Nott: "And if I continue teleporting to far distances without giving myself enough rest, the constant pressure on my blood vessels could lead to their rupture."
Suddenly, something flickered in Lorian's eyes. It wasn't just a question... it was a mixture of tension and unsettling worry, despite her cold features trying to remain steady.
Nott: "The rupture of blood vessels is a result of excessive expansion. It leads to the tearing of internal tissues and severe hemorrhaging, causing immediate death."
Nott's voice was soft, but the weight carried by his words sent chills down the spine. Every word, every thought was heavy, so much so that Lorian could do nothing but remain silent, as if even the air itself bore the weight of his statement.
Nott: "The maximum I can achieve is teleporting three times per second to places no farther than a hundred meters."
A long silence stretched. Nott could feel the eyes locked onto him, understanding the grave predicament he was living in.
Nott: "And seven times per minute to places no farther than two kilometers."
Another pause, but this time, it was even more profound. Lorian was deep in thought, realizing that she was facing a serious challenge, that every move Nott made was a gamble with potentially fatal consequences.
Nott: "These limits increase gradually with more practice and better control of my ability."
It was a small comment, but it was like closing his eyes to an ongoing truth... a growing severity with every use, with every repeated experience.
Lorian was shocked, stunned by everything she had heard, as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet in an instant, leaving her in emotional turmoil and countless questions.
Nott: "In the early stages of this condition, I feel severe pain and general exhaustion, and I notice swelling in the veins of my hands and arms."
There was now a new distance of awareness between them. Lorian was drowning in the realization of these facts. A bitter silence filled the space between them.
Nott: "As the condition worsens, I experience dizziness and loss of consciousness due to the improper circulation of blood to vital tissues."
And there… was hesitation. Lorian was absorbing every word, every fragment, making a vow to herself to stay vigilant. She understood the deadly risk he was facing.
Nott: "To ensure my survival, I must manage my ability carefully. I must balance the need to teleport with avoiding excessive use."
Lorian, in a calm voice: "So, this ability isn't just a simple advantage. The ability to teleport through a network of energy particles depends on a precise balance between physical and mental strength. Repeated long-distance teleportation isn't just a challenge... it can be fatal if not managed wisely."
She took a deep breath, her words flowing as if trying to process her surroundings. She was contemplating the fine line Nott had drawn between life and death.
Lorian: "What you're saying requires an extraordinary level of discipline and control. Not just because this ability demands direct contact with particles, but also because every distant teleport puts you at serious risk."
She looked at Nott intently, and in her eyes was a true sense of respect for his control.
Lorian: "The swelling in your blood vessels, the threat of rupture... it means that with each teleportation, you're risking your own life under increasing pressure."
She gave a small smile, one filled with admiration. The keen attention in her gaze reflected an acknowledgment of the burden Nott carried.
Lorian, with a voice full of respect: "But... now, you have clarity about your ability and its weaknesses.
Nothing is more valuable than knowing your limits. So, be sure to use this power wisely. Every teleportation must be carefully calculated, with enough recovery time to prevent harm to yourself."
Then, she drifted into thought for a moment before continuing.
Lorian: "So... all you need is to know the building you must teleport to..."
Nott: "Yes, for example, that building in front of us... I can teleport inside it easily since I now know what it looks like."
Lorian: "Very well, we'll begin the operation in a week."
And finally, there was a moment of complete silence. Every word in that moment carried weight, as if the horizon had shifted in those few moments filled with transformations and the intricate details Nott had laid bare.
Back to the present.
Corvis Hotel – Fifth floor, in a narrow closet filled with the sharp scent of cleaning supplies.
Nott sat in absolute silence, his body leaning against the cold metal wall. His heartbeat remained steady, his eyes shut, and his thoughts echoed within his mind, replaying Lorian's instructions as if they were a spell etched into his memory.
Lorian: "You'll teleport into the janitor's closet. It's on the fifth floor. Once you confirm your position, open the door slowly. You'll see four guards stationed in that hallway. They're well-trained, experienced in their field, so your mission is to eliminate them without making a sound."
Her voice was crisp in his mind... dry, yet filled with unwavering confidence.
Lorian: "Close your eyes then and do not open them until the power is cut off. We'll cut the power in this entire area, but the duration will be... only 40 seconds. Just enough to make Joker think it's a minor technical glitch. That means you must take them out and hide their bodies in the closet within that timeframe."
Nott slowly opened his eyes, taking in the narrow space around him. His palm traced the metal wall, while his pulse began to quicken. Forty seconds... every fraction of a second is precious.
Lorian: "Your signal to start… will be the blackout."
He shifted slightly inside the cramped closet, inhaled deeply, then closed his eyes again, observing the scene through his unique perception... his vision of the particles shaping the world around him.
He saw the hallway outside. He saw the positions of the four guards, each standing at a precise angle, weapons ready, postures rigid, their alertness at its peak. But they weren't prepared for him.
They didn't need to be.
In an instant, the lights went out, plunging the hotel into complete darkness. Silence reigned for a fleeting moment... only the tense rhythm of beating hearts echoed in the void.
For Nott, the darkness wasn't an obstacle. It was his ally.
His vision sharpened, as if the world had unfolded before him in ways ordinary humans could never comprehend.
In a split second... before the guard could even finish his sentence... Nott slowly opened the cabinet door, making no sound, and slipped out quietly like a black cat moving between shadows. Time began to slip away between his fingers... only 40 seconds left...
Guard ¹: "Wh-..."
Nott's arm shot up at a perfect 90-degree angle, delivering a sharp, calculated strike to the guard's neck. A brief gasp of panic escaped the man's lips before his body gave out. His consciousness flickered and faded as he collapsed.
At that exact moment, without wasting a fraction of a second, Nott had already moved. Before Guard ¹ even hit the floor, he was on Guard ², positioned to his right. Another precise strike to the same spot... the throat... cutting off any chance of a cry for help. His body shuddered as he lost balance, falling.
Thud.
The sound of his body hitting the ground coincided with Guard ¹'s, the two crashes blending into one.
Guard ³: "Wh-Who's there?!!"
Guard ⁴: "What the hell is going on?! I can't see a damn thing!!"
A heartbeat. Then...
Nott appeared beneath Guard ³ in the blink of an eye. Before the man could react, a brutal uppercut shot up from below, slamming into his chin. The force sent him airborne for a split second before his body stiffened, his muscles locking from the shock. The cold, reinforced glove Nott wore amplified the impact, knocking him out instantly as his unconscious body crashed onto the ground.
Guard ⁴: "Who are you?! Show yourself, you coward!!"
Nott's eyes darted to Guard ⁴'s hand... his fingers were tightening around his gun, preparing to fire. That single action could set off a chain reaction, alerting not just the entire floor but even those outside the hotel.
No.
Without hesitation, Nott vanished.
Then...
A sharp gust of air as he reappeared, foot raised high, slicing through the darkness in a powerful arc.
The kick landed.
Crack!
The guard's head snapped back as the force of the strike sent him stumbling, his grip loosening just enough for the gun to slip from his fingers. The weapon clattered against the floor, its metal frame skidding across the tiles.
But the guard wasn't down.
He pushed himself up with alarming speed, vision still hazy but his instincts intact. He lunged at Nott, fists swinging. The first punch missed... Nott dodged, weaving his body with fluid precision. The second, he barely avoided. The third...
Impact.
A heavy strike slammed into Nott's side, momentarily knocking the breath from his lungs.
Then another.
Before he could fully regain control, the guard grabbed him by the collar and hurled him toward the nearest wall.
Crash!
Nott's back collided with the solid surface, a sharp pain shooting through his spine. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to make a sound. A muffled grunt was all that escaped.
The guard lifted his left leg, aiming a brutal kick directly at Nott's ribs.
Nott saw it.
React.
He twisted his body at the last second.
The kick missed.
Instead...
The guard's foot slammed into the wall with full force. A suppressed groan of pain followed.
That was Nott's opening.
He crouched low, hand slipping into his pocket. A flash of silver.
The blade.
In one swift motion, he drove the knife into the guard's leg.
Slash.
A deep, clean cut.
The guard's body jerked as pain exploded through his nerves. His breath hitched, muscles spasming.
Guard ⁴: "A-A-AAAAAH… You… bastard!!!"
A sharp, guttural cry of agony tore from his throat.
Nott: "Stop screaming, we're not in a damn opera!!."
The guard barely had a chance to process the insult before...
Wham!
Nott's foot struck his face, a final, decisive blow that sent his consciousness spiraling into darkness. His body crumpled to the ground, motionless.
31.77 seconds.
Nott's pulse hammered against his skin.
Nott: "[Shit. I'm running out of time.]"
Without a moment's delay, he grabbed Guard ⁴'s body, teleporting into the closet. Another instant, and he was gone again... reappearing by the fallen guards, one after another, transporting their unconscious bodies into the confined space.
36.26 seconds.
The last guard was in.
Then...
A flicker of realization.
The gun.
Nott: "Damn it…!!"
His body blurred. In a heartbeat, he was back in the hallway, hand snatching the discarded weapon. Before the second hand of a clock could tick forward, he was inside the closet again.
One second later...
The power returned.
A faint mechanical hum as the lights flickered back to life, illuminating the once pitch-black hallway.
Security Room.
One of the guards stationed at the surveillance desk furrowed his brows, letting out a groggy sigh.
Guard ¹: "Hmm? Oh, power's back. Damn idiots running the power grid keep doing this… Always in my damn neighborhood, too…"
His coworker squinted at the monitors, frowning.
Guard ²: "…Huh. Thought I saw something for a second…"
A long pause.
Then, a deep exhale.
Guard ²: "Ugh. I work way too many hours. Maybe I need a day off."
His eyes flicked back to the screen. Something wasn't right.
Another pause.
Then...
Guard ²: "…Wait. Where the hell are the guards?"
He sat up straight, scanning the monitors.
Guard ²: "Oi, Killian. Do you see the four guys who were on the Fifth floor?"
Killian: "Huh? Oh… yeah, they were there before the blackout. Maybe they thought it was an attack and went to check on the director?"
The guard narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.
Inside the Closet.
Nott remained still, pressed against the cold, metal wall, his breathing heavy and ragged. His entire body trembled, adrenaline still surging through his veins.
His hand pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.
Slowly, he exhaled, forcing his mind back into focus.
Then...
He reached for his earpiece, pressing a finger against it.
Steel Hotel – Inside the office, where the dim lights cast shadows on the walls.
Lorian sat on the leather chair behind the desk, monitoring the camera feeds from the team members through the multiple screens in front of her.
Her gaze lifted from the main screen for a moment before Nott's voice came through her earpiece.
Nott, whispering: "The area is secure."
Lorian did not change her position, but her gaze sharpened as she studied the screens, silently observing the latest developments. She slowly raised her hand, pressing a finger against it, then responded in a calm but firm voice.
Lorian: "Well done.
She looked up at the screens again and said firmly.
Lorian: "Falcon, briefed me on your situation."
Falcon: "Received."
Falcon contacts his team, who have infiltrated the building during the power outage.
Falcon, through comms: "Scorpion, Cheetah, give me an update now."
Scorpion: "Uh... We've entered.
We're currently in the underground parking infrastructure."
Corvis Hotel – In the heart of the underground parking area
Dim lights filter through gaps in the walls, casting eerie shadows. The area is somewhat disorganized, filled with exposed pipes, massive ventilation ducts, and tangled electrical cables. The uneven surfaces make every step a careful calculation.
Scorpion, clad in a custom black suit with a matching mask concealing his face, moves swiftly between columns and scattered tools. He follows a meticulously crafted route, pinpointing the large pipes running along the eastern wall. Every few steps, he pauses, scanning for security cameras or patrolling guards.
Cheetah, the swift-moving girl, follows closely behind, her movements nearly soundless. She wears a similar black mask and a tight-fitting suit designed for agility, a small bag strapped to her back containing infiltration tools. Her sharp gaze continuously sweeps the surroundings, alerting Scorpion to any irregular activity.
The massive pipes obstruct visibility, forcing Scorpion and Cheetah to navigate through a narrow and intricate path. The interwoven structures make pinpointing their location even more challenging.
Using a detailed blueprint of the area, Scorpion identifies the exact routes of the pipes and vents. They employ infrared equipment to analyze the pipe layout from a distance, avoiding unnecessary movement. Every step is taken with extreme caution to prevent drawing any unwanted attention.
Cheetah: "Hmm… Hidden surveillance cameras and motion sensors could be a real problem. Some cameras rotate at intervals, making them even harder to avoid."
Scorpion: "No worries. Let's scan the area thoroughly before moving forward.
Hand me the cloaking system."
Cheetah pulls a medium-sized device from her bag... designed like a compact computer. Scorpion employs advanced infiltration techniques, hacking into the surveillance networks. He manipulates the camera feeds in real-time, looping previous footage to create a perfect illusion. Additionally, the cameras are remotely monitored to ensure they remain undetected during movement.
Cheetah: "Good. But even though the guards aren't here right now, unexpected shifts in their schedule could mean they show up at any moment. Also, opening the metal cover on the pipeline is incredibly tricky. It requires precision to avoid making any noise.
So… what's the plan?"
Scorpion: "I've got it covered. Don't worry."
Scorpion carefully tracks the patrol schedules, using motion sensors to detect any unexpected movement. They agree on a secret signal in case of sudden changes. Meanwhile, Cheetah remains ever vigilant, scanning the area for any potential threats.
He retrieves his specialized tools and begins working on the metal cover. Using advanced, noise-reducing drills, he meticulously loosens the bolts and fasteners. A thin layer of lubricant is applied to reduce friction, eliminating any potential noise. Additionally, they pad the ground around the pipe to muffle their movements... leveraging his experience in high-pressure situations.
Cheetah, as always, remains on high alert. Her eyes flicker between the dimly lit surroundings, attuned to any sign of disturbance. She listens intently, the silence amplifying the faintest sounds.
As soon as the opening is wide enough, they slip inside the pipeline. It narrows slightly, but with careful, calculated movements, they maneuver through the ducts leading to the underground vault.
Just before descending further, Scorpion halts. He glances at a narrow duct to his left, then shifts his gaze to Cheetah, speaking in a hushed tone:
Scorpion: "Your turn now. This duct leads to a set of rooms, but focus only on following our initial route. The security guard station is in the upper right section of the security zone. Check everything carefully... no mistakes."
Cheetah nods in understanding and begins preparing her equipment. She slings a small bag over her shoulder, containing a canister of sleeping gas. Moving with deliberate caution, she unzips it slowly, retrieving a miniature flashlight to illuminate her path. Without hesitation, she slips into the ventilation duct.
The confined space forces her to move carefully, limiting any unnecessary motions. The air inside is stale and cold, seeping through tiny gaps in the metal. Her flashlight casts flickering beams along the metallic surface, guiding her way through the darkness.
Reaching the vent overlooking the security room, she stops. With practiced efficiency, she retrieves a small tube and attaches it to the sleeping gas canister. Ensuring a precise fit, she carefully feeds the tube through the vent, initiating the controlled release of the gas into the room below.
Cheetah watches intently, counting the seconds. Three minutes pass. The first signs appear... guards shifting sluggishly in their seats, blinking heavily. Slowly, their heads slump onto their desks. She listens, waiting for their breathing to slow. Deep, steady. Unconscious.
Once confident that the guards are fully asleep, she silently retreats through the duct, making her way back to Scorpion, who awaits her at the rear section of the pipeline.
She emerges from the vent, her voice barely above a whisper.
Cheetah: "It's done. They're all asleep."
Scorpion smiled with appreciation, carefully scanning the surroundings to ensure everything was in place for the next phase of the plan. His silence filled the space, as if everything were moving in perfect tranquility, but deep inside, he felt a sense of anticipation. He moved swiftly and cautiously with Cheetah, heading toward the basement. The dim lights they carried illuminated the narrow passages, and every step he took was deliberate and cautious. The confined space demanded utmost care in every movement.
Cheetah moved silently behind him, her eyes constantly scanning the environment as if she could breathe the surrounding reality. There were moments of long silence between them, but that only indicated their readiness. Both knew exactly what needed to be done at the right moment, and each relied on the other.
When Scorpion opened the hatch wide enough, they began descending carefully into the basement. The narrow passageway felt heavy, and the light fog in the air only intensified the atmosphere. The small lights Scorpion held flickered slightly in his hand, as if reflecting the growing tension in the air. Cheetah remained alert, watching every corner with laser focus, her mind poised for any unexpected change.
When they reached the internal wall of the basement, Scorpion began to dismantle a section of it using his tools. He moved his hands with utmost precision, mindful of every small detail. His hand trembled slightly from the concentration, but the silence around them made the sound of the tools barely audible. Cheetah remained in her ready position, her eyes tracking every motion with complete focus.
As soon as Scorpion opened the hatch wide enough, he stepped back, allowing Cheetah to go first. Their ears picked up every sound, both alert to any unexpected movement. After moments of tense silence, they entered the basement.
Inside, the dim light reflected off the metallic walls, giving the place an aura of secrecy. They passed by metallic furniture and made their way directly to the safe, which glimmered in the shadows. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the crackling sound of the radio.
Scorpion, over the radio: "I see it. We've reached the safe. Also, we've secured the surveillance room."
The moment was charged with tension, but he felt a slight sense of reassurance as they neared their objective. Falcon's voice came through the radio, calm yet carrying a note of appreciation for the progress.
Falcon: "Well done."
Suddenly, Falcon's call connected to Lorian. It was a pivotal moment, as if time itself had stopped for a brief second.
Falcon: "They've entered, and the surveillance room is under control."
There was no delay in Lorian's response, her firm voice cutting through the silence that filled the air.
Lorian: "Good work. Now, start the operation immediately. We don't have much time."
Falcon: "Understood."
At that moment, Falcon stood in front of the towering building in the city, his gaze focused on the window of the seventh floor where the Joker was hiding. His eyes studied the critical moment drawing near, and he raised a finger in a silent signal. His team, consisting of five individuals, began preparing, the quiet thick with anticipation and readiness.
The girl with "Hyena" written on her back moved forward lightly, pulling the grappling gun from her bag steadily, pointing it toward the seventh-floor window. With a simple press of the trigger, the metal hook shot out with lightning speed, cutting through the air with a quiet sound until it reached the window. The hook was directed with precision, settling firmly in the window's edge without making any noise. Once confirmed, Falcon gave a brief signal.
The team members moved soundlessly, one after the other, as they were pulled up the rope swiftly toward the window. Their movements were precise and fluid, as if they were a single, integrated unit.
Hyena reached the window first, using a small device to quietly break the lock, and gently moved the window without making a sound. The team entered the seventh floor swiftly and lightly, not making a single noise or raising any suspicion.
A person with "Mantis" written on his back moved ahead to secure the hallway. The team remained synchronized, moving with perfect coordination toward their goal.
Falcon moved forward, stopping at the cleaning cabinet, and signaled the team to stay alert.
Then he pointed to Hyena to open the door. Hyena stood to the left of the cabinet, while Falcon stood directly in front of the door. Hyena opened the door quickly, and everyone pointed their weapons at the cabinet.
But Nott was inside, sitting on top of four of the Joker's guards stacked on top of each other. The cabinet reeked of faint blood, and Nott's face had a bit of blood on his cheeks.
The team stood stunned, unaware of what they were seeing... a 12-year-old boy managing to sneak in and eliminate four of the Joker's guards without making a sound.
Falcon spoke through the radio: "...We found him. The guards and cameras have been dealt with."
Lorian: "Good. Now, you can breach his room, but don't make any noise. We don't know if he has any strange means of escape."
Falcon: "Understood."
Falcon gestures with his finger, signaling the team to move toward the door at the end of the hallway, which was different from the other doors.
It was black, made of solid metal, and had a security device attached to the left side.
Falcon: "Alright, kid. Your turn again. You know what you have to do, right?"
Nott, He stood facing the door firmly: "Yes."
Nott takes a deep breath and bends slowly, preparing himself.
Falcon: "No matter what happens, make sure to buy us time. Go now."
Nott teleports in an instant, entering the room. He looks down at the ground; the room is dark, with a light illuminating a small part of the floor, accompanied by the sound of someone breathing.
He slowly lifts his head to see his surroundings, but in a tense moment, the first thing he sees is the face of a person staring at him in a terrifying, menacing way. It's the Joker. His eyes glowed red due to the blood vessels surrounding them. His face was filled with wrinkles, and his hair was messy and white.
In a breathless moment, Nott didn't understand what was happening. He had been exposed in just a second. His body trembled, and he couldn't move from his spot. The man continued staring at him while Nott thought about teleporting, but he remembered Lorian's words.
Lorian: "Don't even think about running. We'll rescue you as soon as we're done with everything. Your task is to buy us time, so let him catch you and tell him everything. By that time, we'll be finished, and we'll break down the door immediately to get you out."
Nott, his voice trembling: "...A...a...are you... are you the Joker?"
His eyes were like those of a trapped prey, swaying on the edge of consciousness, as if fear had consumed him.
The Joker, with a horrifying grin: "You can speak!! This is great!"
In the blink of an eye, the Joker delivers a powerful punch to Nott's face. The shock lingers in the air before Nott hits the ground, collapsing like a lifeless body, unconscious.
The Joker quickly regains his composure, glancing through the security device, but the room around him is consumed by silence. There is no one outside, just unclear shadows floating around him.
The Joker, sarcastically: "Hmm? Heh... hahahaha... HaHAHAHAHAHA! Did this kid come here alone?"
He examines his face and hands, stained with droplets of blood. Those dark stains reflect a faint light, like the glow of a candle burning in a desolate darkness.
The Joker, with glistening eyes: "Did he really manage to take out the guards? I guess their absence outside justifies that."
He approaches Nott, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a tattoo of a crescent moon pierced by a dagger. The candle burning in the corner illuminates the strange tattoo.
The Joker, in a suspicious tone: "...Noctis?...
This kid… is he a member of that damn organization?!... Heh. Heh. HahahaHA! This is interesting!"
The Joker laughs hysterically, his voice rising within the room like an echo reflecting the depths of madness, his laughter reverberating in the corners as if summoning trapped spirits in the space.
The Joker grabs the unconscious Nott by his leg, dragging him across the cold floor like a lifeless being. He pulls him deeper into the dark room, where the heavy silence stretches like a terrifying shroud over the place. Each step the Joker takes sends a chilling echo, as if the ground itself aches from the weight of his actions.
The faint light grows dimmer, showing horrifying glimpses of the dark corners, where neglected statues stand, their shapes obscured by the shifting light as though they're watching what happens. An uncomfortable feeling creeps over you, as if something mysterious is lurking in the shadow, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
As he drags him, the Joker picks up a strange object from the floor, slowly dangling it in the dim light.
It was a gleaming knife, shining as though eager to see blood.
The Joker: "This will help us revive some fun!"
He laughs again, as if this chaotic, mad mixture fills him with a terrifying joy.
He heads toward the dark corner of the room, where heavy curtains fall, and everything disappears into tense stillness.
Nott couldn't predict what awaited him in this place, where silence becomes the friend of darkness, and fear turns into a living nightmare, lurking in every corner.