MIKE
We moved fast, Alfred leading, Elena close behind me, her fists clenched tight. We didn't look back.
Then, suddenly, Elena stop.
"Wait—!" she gasped, grabbing my arm and yanking me to a halt.
Alfred turned too, cursing under his breath.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, glancing anxiously behind us.
Elena’s face was pale, her eyes wild.
"If Siren’s coming... then maybe this is the only chance I have to confront her."
Her voice cracked, pleading almost.
"Maybe I can make her talk. Maybe I can finally find out what she knows about me!"
I grabbed her shoulders tightly.
“You’ll be killed before you get a single word out, Elena!” I snapped. “You think Siren’s going to stand there and explain everything like a villain in a bad movie?”
Her hands shook in my grip, her lip trembling. She wanted so badly to fight. To know. To end the nightmares clawing
NEW SAFE HOUSE
The new safe house was colder, emptier . We didn't even bother unpacking. We were too wired, too alert.
Elena immediately dropped onto the dusty couch, pulling out her tablet from her bag with trembling hands.
"I placed a hidden camera before we left," she said, her voice still shaky but determined.
Alfred and I exchanged a look — half impressed, half horrified — but said nothing.
She tapped the screen, and the live feed flickered on. It showed the room we left Sian in, the busted walls, the battered chair, and Sian himself, still sitting where we left him.
The clock on the corner of the feed ticked forward.
Ten minutes.
Nothing.
Sian just sat there, bleeding, breathing heavily, staring at the floor.
The silence stretched, tightening in my chest like a wire.
Then—
—CLANK.
The sound of a door creaking open.
We watched, breathless.
The figure finally stepped into the full view of the hidden camera.
It was her.
Siren.
Her presence was unmistakable . The commanding aura, the cold poise, the sharp eyes that seemed to slice through the shadows themselves. She was dressed simply — dark coat, black boots — but somehow, it made her even more terrifying.
Behind her, shadows moved several figures pacing silently around the room. Footsteps echoed heavy, deliberate but none of them spoke. Siren didn’t even glance back at them. Her focus was entirely on Sian. She walked toward him slowly, methodically, like a predator circling prey.
But when she stopped right in front of him, she didn’t offer help.
Didn’t even look concerned by his bloodied face and bruises.
Instead, she tilted her head slightly and spoke in a voice that carried without needing to shout:
"How much did you tell them?"
Sian raised his head weakly to meet her eyes.
There was something in his gaze — something broken but defiant.
The shadows behind her shifted, restless, like dogs waiting for their master's signal.
I felt Elena tense beside me.
Alfred leaned forward, fists clenched, watching every move.
Sian wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
He let out a shallow, ragged breath before answering, voice low but steady:
"I didn't say anything," he said.
"You don't have to worry."
Siren didn't react immediately. She just stared at him
Then, from off-camera, a male voice broke the silence.
Rough, with a slight accent
We could hear him flipping through papers, the sound of files being tossed aside.
"Si... it seems like they knew something,"
the man said casually, glancing toward Siren while holding one of the scattered files.
He was talking about us.
I stiffened.
Before Siren could reply, another voice a woman’s voice — floated from somewhere deeper inside the room:
"They got a very good hacker."
Her tone was almost mocking, as if amused by the fact.
Elena’s fingers tightened around the tablet.
Alfred leaned closer, his whole body tense.
She pulled out a small, slender knife from inside her coat. She twirled it lazily around her fingers, the blade flashing every time it caught the light.
Then, without a care, she sat down on a chair directly in front of Sian, legs crossed, the knife still spinning lightly in her hand.
Her voice was almost gentle — almost , but there was a sharpness underneath it, like velvet hiding a dagger:
"Didn't I remind you..."
She spun the knife once more.
"...that you are one of us, Sian?"
She tilted her head, watching him like a scientist watches an experiment about to fail.
"Why are you still making me... disappointed?"
Sian didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
I could feel it, even from behind a screen , The fear. Sian’s eyes were glued to the knife in Siren’s hand, watching it spin, flash, spin again, hypnotizing and terrifying at the same time.
He opened his mouth slightly, as if to speak but no words came out.
Finally, Sian looked up at her, stuttering , broken ,searching for the right thing to say, anything that would save him.
"I... I—"
But nothing clear came out.
Siren only smiled faintly — not with warmth, but with pure, cold control.
Still twirling the knife between her fingers.
Waiting.
Siren, without a flicker of hesitation, hurled the knife , It sunk deep into Sian’s shoulder.
Sian’s scream ripped through the small room, his body jerking violently against the chair.
The monitor shook slightly from the sound. the shadows behind Siren stepped into the light.
The woman , her face finally clear —
I recognized her. She was the woman I had seen once during the Grand Ball, dressed elegantly, blending into the elites.
And the man . He rushed forward instinctively towards Sian.
"Si—" the man called him by a nickname, trying to stabilize him, blood staining his hands.
"We can talk this out back at the base," he pleaded, voice low but urgent.
"I'm sure Sian had a reason to... to help them."
But Siren didn’t even flinch.
Without a word, she pulled another blade from under her coat, deadly and glinting.
Her arm reared back, ready to strike again.
Before she could throw, Sian cried out, his voice hoarse and desperate:
"A teen girl... was helping Agent Alfred and Mike..."
His breathing was ragged, every word a struggle.
"It was the daughter... of the late President Wallace."
The room went deadly silent.
Siren's hand, still holding the second knife, slowly dropped.
She turned away from Sian, her expression unreadable, and walked towards the far wall ,towards a section covered in photos and articles, all pinned chaotically, crisscrossed with red strings.
She traced a gloved finger over one particular photo.
Her voice was quiet. Thoughtful.
Almost... amused.
"Elena," she said.
Siren, standing before the wall of articles, suddenly burst into laughter.
It was loud, chilling, almost unhinged.
The woman shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Siren.
She spoke carefully, her voice slicing through the manic laughter.
"Do you know the girl he's referring to, Si?"
Siren, still chuckling, nodded, a wild gleam in her eyes.
The woman tilted her head, smiling a little.
"Should we put her on the hit list too?"
I leaned closer to the tablet, heart pounding.
But before Siren could answer—
Sian, wounded and struggling to stay conscious, blurted out:
"She doesn't know, Si... she doesn't know anything..."
Siren stopped laughing.
She turned around slowly, her cold gaze fixing on Sian.
Silence.
Then Siren looked at the woman and gave a small, almost lazy nod.
A signal.
The woman pulled out her gun, slowly walking toward Sian, her expression blank and professional.
She raised the gun ,ready to pull the trigger.
But the man stepped forward urgently.
"Kate, no!" he barked.
Then he turned desperately to Siren, calling out:
"Si—!"
"I'll take responsibility for Sian. Please."
A thick, heavy pause.
Siren didn’t say anything at first. She just stared, weighing something in her mind.
Finally, with that same cold, merciless calm, she said:
"Okay."
And then, looking at the man with deadly seriousness:
"His life... is your life."
Kate lowered her gun reluctantly, sending a sharp glare at Sian before she followed Siren out.
Minutes later...
Through the grainy tablet feed, we watched —
Fire began to snake along the walls, devouring the building.
And then—
Blackout.
Signal lost.