Istanbul, Turkey – One Week Later
It’s dusk.
The skyline glows gold and blood-red.
Scarlet Veil, disguised as a diplomat’s assistant, walks through customs like she isn’t planning to burn the city from the inside out.
Beside her: Jasper, always watching her back.
A few feet away: Kaydence, eyes on the street, face tight. He hasn’t spoken much since the photo.
He’s not sure what scares him more—
That the boy is his.
Or that Scarlet might kill him before they find out.
Their Mission?
Infiltrate Triangle’s new Istanbul stronghold: an elite orphanage called L’Asile Noir.
Outwardly, it’s a sanctuary.
In truth, it’s a training ground.
For assassins.
Children with no past, no names.
Rebuilt from the ground up to kill.
And at the center of it—
Miro.
Inside L’Asile Noir
The child with violet eyes sits by the window.
He’s reading something far too advanced for his age. Classical war strategy, annotated in Latin.
Every so often, he glances at the sky like he’s waiting.
Watching.
The instructors call him “Prodigy.”
But to the Triangle…
He’s “Project Echo.”
Scarlet & Kaydence Break In
They hit the safehouse at 3 a.m.
Silent. Swift.
Guards are taken out one by one.
No mercy. No noise.
Scarlet leads.
Kaydence covers her flank.
They reach the west wing.
Scarlet gestures to the door.
“Ready?”
Kaydence nods.
But just as she opens it—
BOOM.
Smoke bomb.
Flashbang.
They’re ambushed.
Guards flood the hallway.
But Scarlet doesn’t run.
She lunges.
Blades out.
Blood sprays.
Kaydence shouts behind her.
But her eyes are locked on one thing—
A boy in the smoke.
Small. Pale.
Watching her with those haunting, violet eyes.
Miro.
Time Slows.
She stops moving.
He doesn’t blink.
She whispers, “Miro…”
He tilts his head.
Then speaks, calm and clear:
“You’re the monster in my bedtime stories.”
Then he draws a knife.
And throws it—
Straight at her throat.
She dodges—barely.
And he’s gone.
Vanished into the smoke like a ghost.
Kaydence grabs her arm.
“Scar! We need to fall back!”
But she doesn’t move.
She’s staring at where Miro was.
Shaken.
For the first time since this war began.
Later – Safehouse
Jasper slams the table. “He attacked you! That kid’s gone.”
But Scarlet shakes her head.
“No. He hesitated.”
“He threw a damn knife at your jugular!”
Kaydence leans forward, voice low. “She’s right. His hand shook. He wanted to miss.”
Silence.
Then Scarlet whispers,
“They’re raising him to replace me.
But I’m not going to let them.
I’m not leaving him behind.”
Deep inside L’Asile Noir
Miro sits in a dark room, being interrogated by the Headmistress.
“Did she touch you? Say anything?”
Miro stares straight ahead.
“No.”
The Headmistress narrows her eyes. “You hesitated.”
“She didn’t look like a monster,” Miro says quietly.
“She is,” the woman growls. “You were born to end her.”
Miro’s small fingers curl into fists.
“I want to meet her again.”
Miro makes his move.
Scarlet plays with fire.
And blood is the currency of truth.
Three Days Later – Underground Istanbul
They say children can’t lie well.
But Miro?
He lies like he was born in smoke.
The Triangle gives him a mission:
Lure Scarlet Veil to the northern district.
They want her dead.
They want Kaydence broken.
They want the throne back.
So Miro puts on his cleanest shirt.
Lets his face twist into something sweet and tragic.
And slips through their grip like a whisper in the wind.
One night Scarlet gets the message , It’s scrawled on a piece of cloth left in her satchel.
Not paper.
Cloth.
Black silk — the kind her mother used to wear.
On it:
“I want to talk.
Alone.
Northern ruins. Midnight.
Come unarmed.”
Jasper thinks it’s a trap.
Kaydence begs her not to go.
Scarlet?
She just smiles, tucks a blade into her boot, and says:
“He’s Annora’s child. I was born in a house of traps.”
Midnight – The Northern Ruins
The wind howls through the broken stones like it’s mourning something long dead.
Scarlet walks alone.
She waits in the center of the courtyard, lit only by moonlight.
Then—
A shadow steps forward.
Miro.
Wearing a black hoodie.
Boots too big for his feet.
Eyes that don’t belong to a child.
They stare at each other for a full minute.
Then Scarlet kneels.
Level with his face.
“You asked to talk.”
“I did.”
“Then talk.”
Miro frowns.
“You don’t smell like a monster.”
Scarlet tilts her head. “What do monsters smell like?”
He shrugs. “Like lies. Like blood.”
She smiles sadly. “Then I do.”
Miro: “Are you really my sister?”
Scarlet: “Not by blood. But maybe by pain.”
Miro: “They said you killed my father.”
Scarlet: “If you mean Kaydence — he’s not dead.”
Miro: “No. The other one.”
Silence.
Scarlet’s heart stumbles.
Annora had someone else?
Miro’s voice drops to a whisper.
“My real father was one of the Council.
Annora said you burned him alive.”
Scarlet stands slowly.
Her hands shake.
“I did. I didn’t know he had a kid.”
Miro’s face crumples for half a second.
Then goes blank.
He turns to leave.
Scarlet calls after him, voice cracking.
“You came to talk. I’m talking.
You can hate me.
But don’t let them write your whole story.”
Miro doesn’t answer.
Just disappears into the dark.
While at the safehouse Kaydence is pacing.
Jasper’s cleaning a rifle.
Scarlet walks in.
No blood.
No bruises.
But something in her eyes is broken.
“He’s not your son,” she says, barely above a whisper.
Kaydence freezes.
Scarlet turns away before he can see her tears.
“He’s Annora’s.
And the man I killed.
He wasn’t innocent either.”
Jasper looks up.
“So what do we do?”
Scarlet lifts her chin.
“We get to him before they do.”
The Council’s Return
A darkened room.
Five figures.
Masks on.
Annora steps forward, holding a photo.
Miro, standing beside Scarlet in the courtyard.
“Phase One is complete,” she purrs. “They trust each other now.”
A deep voice answers:
“Then it’s time for Phase Two.”
“Let the child betray her.”