Thud.
The last man dropped to his knees, his gun dropping uselessly to the ground. His whole body shook as he stared at Lilith. He had just watched her slice his partner’s head off with a flick of her finger. No gun, no blade in hand, just a motion so casual it felt unreal. It didn’t take a genius to know what that ant—this woman wasn’t soone you begged for rcy from. She wasn’t soone you tested.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
His forehead smacked the floor again and again as he bowed repeatedly, desperation pouring out of him. "Please! Please don’t kill ! I’ll go, I swear! Just don’t kill !"
Lilith exhaled slowly, the sound sharp in the tense silence. She stared down at him, her face unreadable, then finally spoke with a tired sigh. "Fine. Now get the hell out of my sight."
The man’s eyes went wide, disbelief written all over his face. Relief flooded him as he scrambled up to his feet so fast he nearly tripped over his fallen gun. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" he shouted, stumbling backward toward the exit.
In his mind, he wasn’t going back to et his crew. No chance in hell. He didn’t care about the money, didn’t care about the job. He was done. If the cops arrested him outside, so be it. Jail was paradise compared to what this woman could do to him.
Slice.
His thoughts ended in an instant.
He never even saw what hit him.
Thud.
His head rolled across the floor, blood painting a trail behind it. His body collapsed seconds later, lifeless and heavy.
"Holy shit!" Dickson’s voice cracked as his head popped out from behind Lilith. His eyes were wide as saucers. "You said you were going to spare him!"
Lilith turned her head slowly, her piercing eyes locking onto him. She didn’t need words to ridicule him; her stare alone stripped the complaint down to nonsense. Still, she spoke, her voice cold. "And what do you think they would’ve done to you if I hadn’t shown up in ti?"
Dickson swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, a nervous cough escaping. "Yeah, point taken. Lesson learnt." He forced a grin, trying to lighten his own nerves. "Actually... I kinda like this style."
Lilith ignored his attempt at humor, her focus sharp again. "Where’s Vanessa?"
Dickson blinked. "Huh? Oh... I don’t know. We got separated when that guy behind the cara started calling the shots."
Her eyes narrowed. "Guy behind the cara?"
"Yeah," Dickson said quickly, nodding. "There’s gotta be soone in a control room sowhere. He’s the one running things. I think he’s got the hostages with him, and he can see everything with those night vision caras. That’s why he told to cut the power earlier."
Lilith tilted her head slightly, raising her hand to shield her face from the ray of a helicopter’s spotlight cutting across the shattered window. Her features glowed faintly in the pale light as she muttered, "So, is he seeing us now?"
Dickson looked around nervously. The blood, the ice wall, the broken bodies—they were in a blind corner. He shook his head. "No... no caras here. I don’t think so."
He paused, his expression shifting as a mory hit him. "Wait. Earlier, when those three dead guys were holding at gunpoint, one of them said they didn’t have much use for . That if I misbehaved, they’d just blow my head off."
Lilith raised a brow, listening carefully.
Dickson’s voice grew heavier as he pieced it together. "Which ans... they do have a use for Vanessa."
His jaw tightened. "Teleportation. It’s heaven for these assholes. They’d kill to have soone like her do their dirty work."
——
"Stop here."
The order was sharp, the voice of the man holding her arm hard enough to leave a bruise. Vanessa’s boots scraped against the polished bank floor as she stopped where he told her to.
She looked up and saw it—the vault. The massive steel door stood untouched, unbroken, but clearly battered. The ground around it was littered with scraps of tools, broken drills, even a dented blowtorch. Whoever these bastards were, they had tried everything to crack it open, and none of it had worked.
But what made Vanessa’s eyes narrow wasn’t the failed tools. It was the people.
To the right of the vault, at least half a dozen security officers were tied up. Gags stuffed into their mouths, wrists bound so tightly behind their backs that their skin had turned purple. Guns pressed against their heads. Their eyes went wide when they saw her, pleading silently, begging her not to screw up.
The man at her side shoved her forward with a rough push. She caught herself before falling, her glare snapping back at him, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t—not yet.
Another figure stepped out from the shadows. He wasn’t like the rest. No gun in his hand. No mask covering his face. He was huge, tall and broad, with a thick neck and arms like steel cables. The way the other robbers looked at him told Vanessa everything she needed to know—he was the one in charge.
He stopped a few feet away from her, his heavy boots echoing against the floor. His eyes locked on hers with a predator’s focus. Then he said, flat and cold, "You’re going to teleport inside that vault. Bring sothing."
Vanessa tilted her head, raising her brows. "Sothing? What sothing?"
The man’s lips barely moved. "You don’t need to know."
She let out a short, sharp laugh under her breath, clicking her tongue. "That’s cute. You expect to fetch sothing without even telling what I’m fetching? How exactly do you imagine that’s going to work?"
Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but her thoughts were sharper. If this was just money, they would’ve said so. They would’ve told her the exact stacks, maybe even forced her to bring bags out piece by piece. But no—this wasn’t about cash. That ant whatever was inside the vault, it was more important.
Dangerous important.
The man stepped closer, trying to use his sheer size to intimidate her. His shadow swallowed her fra, his breath hot and sour in the air between them. He thought he could make her flinch.
Vanessa smirked. ? Scared of you? You can dream on.
She didn’t budge an inch. She stared straight into his eyes, unblinking, and he was the one who finally broke the silence.
"When you get inside," he said, his voice dropping lower, "you’ll know what you’re looking for."
Her smirk faded. Not because of him—but because of the words.
He doesn’t even know what it is.
That explained everything. The failed tools, the wasted ti, the way his n were pacing with nerves on edge. They weren’t here for a normal robbery. They were here for sothing locked in the vault, sothing specific. And they were desperate enough to use her power to get it.
Vanessa’s stomach twisted, but she kept her face calm. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
Finally, she said it. "I’m sorry. I can’t get in."
Her voice was steady, but it landed like a grenade.
Every robber froze. The n holding the guns stiffened, their eyes snapping toward her in shock. Even the leader blinked, as if he hadn’t processed what she’d just said.
And then the hostages.
Their heads jerked toward her, eyes wide, hearts hamring in their chests. She could see the panic rushing through them—because they knew what her refusal ant. These n weren’t bluffing. If she didn’t obey, they were the ones who would pay the price.
The gagged security guards began thrashing, muffled cries breaking through the cloth in their mouths. They shook their heads at her, tears forming in the corners of their eyes. Vanessa clenched her jaw, fury burning in her chest, but she didn’t move.
The silence stretched.
A vein pulsed on the leader’s temple as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Say that again."
Vanessa’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She could feel every gun trained on her, could feel the weight of the hostages’ lives pressing down on her shoulders. But her answer didn’t change.
"I said," she repeated, her voice like ice, "I can’t get in."
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