The footsteps grew closer—asured, unhurried, the tread of soone on routine patrol rather than an urgent response. Two people, maybe three. Julian’s hand froze mid-reach over the safe, his eyes snapping toward the sound.
Emma’s head ca up, the half-stuffed bag in her arms suddenly forgotten. Her flas flickered beneath her skin, ready to ignite.
Zoe shifted her weight, muscles coiling.
Fey’s eyes narrowed, calculating the distance, the ti, the angles.
Dori’s breath caught. Her Conceal flickered—just for an instant, just enough for Julian to feel the strain—before she forced it steady again. Her hand tightened on his, knuckles white.
Julian made a decision.
He released Dori’s hand—felt her montary panic through the connection—and moved. Not toward the approaching patrol, but toward the nearest stack of crates. His hand extended, and shadows poured from his palm, thick and absolute, wrapping around Emma, Fey, Zoe, Dori in an instant.
"Stay," he breathed. "Don’t move. Don’t breathe."
Then he stepped through the shadows and erged on the other side of the warehouse, directly in the patrol’s path.
Two n. Greenday guards, ard but relaxed, their attention more on their conversation than their surroundings. They didn’t see him until he was already there—a dark figure materializing from nothing, katana still sheathed, eyes cold as winter graves.
"Evening," Julian said quietly.
The guards froze. Their hands twitched toward weapons.
Julian’s katana cleared the sheath in a motion too fast to follow. The first guard’s weapon hadn’t cleared its holster before the flat of the blade connected with his temple—precise, asured, perfect. He crumpled without a sound.
The second guard opened his mouth to shout.
Shadow wrapped around his throat. Not tight enough to kill—just tight enough to silence. Julian’s free hand closed on his collar and pulled, dragging him into the darkness between crates where the others waited.
Dori’s eyes went wide as Julian reappeared, a struggling guard in tow. Fey was already moving, producing a small cloth that she pressed over the man’s nose and mouth. His struggles lasted three seconds, then two, then none.
Julian lowered him gently beside his unconscious companion.
"Seventeen minutes," Fey murmured, glancing at her handiwork. "They’ll be out for at least that long."
Emma let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. "Cutting it a little close there, Julian."
"The timing was calculated."
"Was it, though?"
Dori’s Conceal flickered again—a longer waver this ti, more pronounced. Julian was at her side in an instant, his hand finding hers, his presence grounding her.
"You’re doing beautifully," he said quietly, his voice soft in a way it never was with enemies. "Just a little more. Can you hold?"
Dori nodded, though her face was ashen. "I... I can try."
"Then let’s finish this."
They turned back to the safe. The docunts continued to flow into Emma’s bag—shipnt logs, personnel files, communication records, everything. Fey found a locked case in the safe’s depths and picked its chanism in under a minute, revealing data drives and encrypted devices that probably contained even more valuable intelligence.
Zoe remained at the periter, her golden eyes never stopping their sweep. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t do anything but watch—and that was enough.
Twelve minutes. Ten. Eight.
The bag bulged. The safe emptied.
Julian straightened, surveying their work. "Enough. We have what we ca for."
Emma hefted the bag, grinning despite the tension. "Bet Vex is gonna be pissed when she finds out."
"That’s the idea."
They moved back the way they ca—past the unconscious guards, past the junction box Fey had rewired, past the side door that led to freedom. Dori’s Conceal held, though every step seed to cost her more than the last. Her hand never left Julian’s.
The fence appeared ahead. The shadows beyond it ant safety, ant escape, ant the beginning of the next phase.
They slipped through the gap Fey had identified earlier, crossed the periter, and vanished into the darkness of the ruins.
Behind them, the compound remained quiet—undisturbed, unaware.
But in a few hours, when the alarms ca back online and the guards woke with splitting headaches and the safe was discovered empty...
Commander Vex would learn that Greenday’s secrets were no longer her own.
They moved through the ruins in silence, putting distance between themselves and the Greenday compound. The bag of docunts bounced against Emma’s back with each stride, a heavy weight of stolen secrets that would soon beco weapons.
Dori stumbled.
Julian caught her instantly, his arm wrapping around her waist before she could fall. Her face was pale, drenched in sweat, her breathing shallow and rapid. The strain of maintaining Conceal for so long—on five people, through infiltration, through combat—had pushed her far beyond her normal limits.
"I’ve got you," Julian murmured, his voice soft. "Rest now. You’re safe."
Dori’s eyes, heavy-lidded and exhausted, found his. A weak smile touched her lips. "Did... did we do it? Did we get everything?"
"Everything and more. Thanks to you."
Her smile widened, then faded as her eyes fluttered closed. Not unconscious—just resting, her body finally allowing itself to recover after being pushed to its absolute limit.
Emma moved closer, her earlier excitent tempered by concern. "Is she okay? That looked... intense."
"She’ll recover. She just needs rest." Julian adjusted his hold on Dori, lifting her easily into his arms. "Zoe, can you carry the bag?"
Zoe nodded, taking the heavy sack from Emma without comnt. Her golden eyes lingered on Dori’s pale face for a mont—sothing almost like worry flickering in their depths—before she turned and resud scanning their surroundings.
Fey fell into step beside Julian, her voice low. "We should find sowhere to hole up for the night. Dori needs real rest, and we need to go through that intel before it goes cold."
"Agreed." Julian’s gaze swept the ruins ahead. "There. That building—the one with the intact upper floor. Check it for structural integrity and unwanted occupants."
Fey was already moving, her tiredness seemingly forgotten in the face of a new task. She vanished into the building’s shadowed entrance, leaving the others to wait in the darkness.
Emma shuffled closer to Julian, her shoulder brushing against his free arm. "She’s really sothing, isn’t she? Dori, I an. So gentle, so scared of everything... but when it counts, she’s right there. Holding it together for all of us."
"Yes," Julian agreed quietly. "She is."
"Think she knows how much we appreciate her?"
"She will. When she wakes, I’ll make sure of it."
Emma smiled—a genuine smile, warm and soft. "You’re good at that, you know. Making people feel appreciated. Even if you’re terrible at showing it most of the ti."
Julian didn’t respond, but his arm shifted slightly, pulling Emma closer against his side.
Fey reappeared in the building’s entrance, giving a thumbs-up. "All clear."
They moved inside.
The building’s upper floor was dusty but intact—windows covered, walls solid, a single large room that had probably been so kind of office or gathering space in better tis. Fey had indeed found mattresses, dragged them into a rough circle in the center of the room. A small lantern—one of her devices—provided soft, steady light.
Julian laid Dori on the most comfortable-looking mattress, pulling a blanket from his Inventory to cover her. She stirred slightly, murmured sothing unintelligible, then settled back into deep, healing sleep.
Emma flopped onto another mattress with a dramatic sigh. "I could sleep for a week. Maybe two."
Fey settled near the window, her usual position, eyes already half-closed. "Sleep. I’ll take first watch."
"No." Julian’s voice was firm but gentle. "You’re exhausted. We all are. I’ll watch. Rest."
Fey opened one eye, clearly about to argue—then closed it again. "Fine. But wake if anything moves."
"Always."
Zoe had already curled up on a mattress near Dori, her golden eyes closing the mont her head touched the makeshift pillow. Within seconds, her breathing evened into the rhythm of sleep.
Emma patted the mattress beside her, looking at Julian with an expression that mixed invitation with genuine concern. "You sure you don’t want to rest too? You’ve been going nonstop."
Julian moved to her side, settling on the edge of her mattress. His hand found hers, fingers intertwining. "I’ll rest when you’re all safe. For now, I’ll watch."
Emma squeezed his hand, then pulled it to her chest, cradling it like sothing precious. "Okay. But you’re cuddling with while you watch. Non-negotiable."
A ghost of a smile touched Julian’s lips. "Non-negotiable."
She closed her eyes, still holding his hand, and within minutes she too was asleep.
Julian sat in the darkness, his family resting around him, his senses alert for any threat. The bag of docunts lay nearby, waiting to be examined. The next phase of their operation waited for dawn.
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