Seraphina leaned back, tapping her fingers lightly against the table. Her mind moved quickly, piecing together possibilities.
"There are only two reasons to kill these people," she said, voice controlled.
Ezrin tilted his head slightly, listening.
"Either someone wants all individuals with extraordinary abilities eliminated—" she paused, scanning his face before continuing, "or the Manipulator is using their brains for something... then disposing of them."
The room felt colder.
She didn't miss the way Ezrin's posture shifted slightly. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable—but she noticed.
He was impressed.
For the first time.
He watched her for a moment longer before finally speaking. "We need a postmortem."
She nodded. "I was about to say that."
For the first time, his lips twitched—not quite a smirk, but close.
And Seraphina, sharp as ever, caught it.
Seraphina pulled the case files toward her, flipping through them with sharp, focused movements.
Ezrin leaned back in his chair, watching.
Noticing.
The way she furrowed her brow slightly when deep in thought, the way her fingers tapped rhythmically against the paper when making connections—he noticed it all.
He told himself it meant nothing. Just observation.
But something lingered.
She glanced up."You're staring."
He didn't look away.
Instead, he smirked. "Then give me something worth looking at."
A challenge. Covering something deeper.
She held his gaze for a second longer before returning to the files. Unfazed. Unbothered.
But Ezrin knew better.
For the next three hours, the room remained silent—except for the rustling of papers, the faint clicking of keys as he worked on his computer.
Then, he stood.
Left the office.
When he returned, he placed a glass of water beside her.
Then, without a word, he sat back down with his own.
Seraphina paused. Her fingers, which had been skimming over the pages, stilled.
She glanced at the glass. Then at him.
Ezrin didn't look up from his screen, as if he hadn't just done something out of character.
"Am I supposed to thank you?"
He exhaled quietly, still typing. "You're supposed to keep your brain functioning."
A beat of silence.
The room was silent again. Another hour had passed. Seraphina barely noticed.
She flipped another file open, scanning through the victim's profile, timeline, and final records. Her eyes traced every detail, absorbing them like a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Then—something caught her attention.
Her fingers hovered over a section of the report, tapping against the paper as she read aloud.
"The case was officially closed due to lack of evidence. Reopened after an anonymous tip."
She frowned. "That's unusual."
Ezrin, who had been watching her from his seat, finally spoke. "Someone wanted us to find this."
Seraphina glanced up, meeting his gaze."Or someone wanted us to see only what they wanted."
A beat of silence.
Then, for the first time, Ezrin smirked—just slightly.
Not his usual mocking smirk.
Something else.
Something approving.
And Seraphina felt it—a shift. A moment that shouldn't have meant anything.
But it did.
Because for the first time, she saw something different in him.
Not just the calculated leader of Oblivion Division.
But a man who saw things the way she did.
Seraphina flipped open the last case file, her eyes scanning over the text with laser focus.
Page after page, name after name—every victim had something in common.
Not just extraordinary qualities.
Something more specific.
Some had eidetic memory, others had a rare way of analyzing data, and a few had an almost unnatural ability to predict and adapt.
This wasn't just about intelligence.
These were people who could see ahead.
People who could manipulate information in ways others couldn't.
She smirked.
Her fingers tapped once against the table, amusement flickering in her eyes.
Ezrin, who had been watching her in silence, leaned forward slightly. "Something amusing?"
She tilted her head, looking at him fully now. "They weren't just smart."
Ezrin's gaze darkened slightly, waiting.
Seraphina let the moment stretch before speaking again, her voice edged with intrigue.
"They were different."
A pause.
Ezrin said nothing at first.
But for the second time that night—his gaze shifted.
Not in amusement.
Not in calculation.
But something else entirely.
And this time, Seraphina noticed.
Seraphina quickly looked away, but not quickly enough.
Because Ezrin saw it.
And he smirked.
She exhaled, ignoring the flicker of awareness she refused to acknowledge. Instead, she glanced at the clock.
7 PM.
She stood up.
Closing the files, she straightened, smoothing down her sleeves. Time to leave.
She was about to turn when—
"Where?"
Ezrin's voice was calm, unhurried.
She didn't turn back. "Home."
A pause. Then—
"I haven't given you permission to leave."
She turned slowly, blinking at him. Disbelief flickered in her expression.
"We've been working since morning."
Ezrin leaned back slightly, gaze unwavering. "And you still have training."
Seraphina stared at him, words catching in her throat.
Then, in her mind— I take my words back. He is not "a man who saw things the way I did."
Ezrin's lips curled into another smirk.
"Stop cursing me in your mind and get ready for training."
She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. "Should I start asking for permission to breathe too?"
Ezrin's smirk deepened, his gaze sharp and unreadable.
"I haven't decided yet."
Seraphina rolled her eyes, but there was something in his tone—half amusement, half something else.
Still, she grabbed her jacket, muttering under her breath, "Unbelievable."
Ezrin didn't stop her, but as she walked past him, she felt his gaze linger for just a second longer than necessary.
And for the first time, she wondered if she should've left that comment unsaid.
After thirty minutes, she finally made her way to the basement training area.
The moment she stepped inside, her steps slowed.
Ezrin was already there.
Standing in the center of the training ring, sleeves rolled up, his smirk lazy yet sharp.
Seraphina exhaled slowly. Of course. Of course, he was going to test her himself.
She didn't react—not outwardly. But internally, she was already calculating.
This wasn't just training.
This was a test.
And Ezrin? He was going to enjoy every second of it.
The moment she stepped into the ring, Ezrin wasted no time.
No warning. No slow build-up.
He moved.
Fast. Calculated. A step forward, then another—closing the space between them instantly.
Seraphina barely had time to react before he struck.
She dodged—just barely. But his next move was already coming.
He wasn't giving her room to breathe.
Her mind worked fast. Predict, adapt, counter.
She had trained for this. She knew the techniques. Her body, however, wasn't keeping up with her mind.
Ezrin's smirk deepened. He had noticed.
"Too slow."
She gritted her teeth, trying to find an opening. But he wasn't just attacking—he was testing. Watching.
And worst of all—he was enjoying this.
Ezrin was relentless. Every strike, every movement was precise—controlled, effortless.
Seraphina dodged, blocked, countered—but he was always a step ahead. Watching. Studying.
And he knew it. Smirk still in place.
"You think too much," he murmured as he sidestepped her next attack, fluid as ever. "You hesitate."
She exhaled sharply, adjusting her stance.
He was right.
Her mind moved faster than her body—but if she wanted to win this, she had to stop calculating.
So she did.
Instead of predicting his next move, she reacted.
He shifted forward, expecting another dodge—but she moved first.
A sharp turn. A feint. And then—her elbow connected with his ribs.
Not hard enough to hurt him. But enough to make him stop.
For the first time, Ezrin's smirk faded.
Just for a second.
Then, it returned—but this time, it was different.
Something sharper. Something intrigued.
Seraphina smirked back, stepping away. "Too slow."
Then—Ezrin chuckled. Low, quiet. Darkly amused.
And just like that, the real fight began.
The moment her elbow connected with his ribs, she saw it.
A flicker. A shift. His smirk faltering—for just a second.
Then, it returned. Sharper. Amused. But different.
"Interesting."
She barely had time to process it before he moved again.
Faster. Harder.
This time, he wasn't just testing her. He was pushing her.
And she felt it.
Each strike came with more precision, more speed. Each dodge left her just a fraction slower.
Then—he was behind her.
In less than a second, his arm locked around her waist, pulling her back against him.
Her breath hitched—not in surprise, but in realization.
He had her.
His lips were near her ear, voice lower than before. "You hesitate again, and I win."
A challenge. And something more.
Seraphina refused to freeze.
So she moved.
Fast. A shift in weight, a sharp twist—and suddenly, she was free.
She turned to face him, heart pounding, eyes locked onto his.
Ezrin's smirk deepened.
This wasn't just training anymore.
This was something else entirely.
Seraphina had broken free—but Ezrin wasn't done.
Not even close.
She barely had a second to breathe before he struck again.
A sharp move, forcing her to block. A perfectly timed feint, making her dodge the wrong way.
She countered, adjusted, tried to keep up—but he was relentless.
Faster. Harder. Unforgiving.
Her body burned, muscles screaming for rest, but he didn't stop.
Not when she missed a dodge.
Not when her breath turned uneven.
Not even when her movements started slowing.
He wanted to see how far she could go.
And Seraphina?
She refused to fall first.
Her mind was sharp, but her body was reaching its limit.
Her steps grew heavier. Her vision blurred just slightly.
Ezrin saw it. Noticed every sign.
And yet—he didn't stop.
Not until—
Her next move faltered.
A split-second mistake—just enough.
He moved.
In an instant, she was off balance.
She barely registered the floor beneath her slipping away before Ezrin caught her.
One hand gripping her wrist. The other firm on her waist.
Pulling her against him—steady, unmoving, controlled.
Her breath came hard and fast, but she was still standing. Barely.
Ezrin's grip didn't loosen.
"Done?" His voice was low, but there was no mockery this time. Just certainty.
Seraphina swallowed. Her body screamed yes. Her pride said no.
She met his gaze. "I can still go."
Ezrin exhaled, amusement flickering in his eyes.
Then, he let her go.
And just as he predicted—her legs gave out.
She dropped onto the mat, catching herself on her hands. Exhausted.
Above her, Ezrin smirked.
"Liar."
And then—he walked away.
No hand offered. No words of praise. Nothing.
Just the sound of his footsteps fading as he left her there.
Seraphina sat there, breathing deeply, her body protesting every movement.
Ezrin's footsteps had already faded. He didn't look back.
Of course, he didn't.
She clenched her jaw, about to push herself up when—
A shadow fell over her.
Kieran.
Without a word, he crouched beside her, holding out a bottle of water.
She hesitated.
"Drink," he said flatly. "You look like you're about to collapse."
She scowled but took the bottle. The cool water soothed the burning in her throat, but not the frustration simmering under her skin.
Once she was done, Kieran extended a hand.
Unlike Ezrin, he didn't leave her there.
She took it.
With surprising ease, he pulled her up and threw her arm over his shoulder, supporting her weight.
"Come on," he muttered, steering her toward the exit. "Before you pass out in the hallway."
Seraphina huffed. "I'm fine."
Kieran didn't even glance at her. "Sure. And I'm a ballerina."
She let out a breathy laugh, but inside, her mind was already working.
Ezrin had left her there. On purpose.
And next time?
She wouldn't let him walk away so easily.
The moment Seraphina stepped into her office, she headed straight for the bathroom.
She turned on the water, letting the hot steam fill the space, stripping away the exhaustion clinging to her body.
Standing under the scalding spray, she let her muscles relax, her mind blank.
No training. No Ezrin. Nothing but the heat pressing against her skin.
Once she was done, she dressed, packed her things, and left.
The car ride back was silent.
When she finally reached her apartment, she unlocked the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind her.
No overthinking. No lingering frustration.
She threw herself onto the bed and let sleep consume her instantly