After shopping, Seraphina and Lena grabbed lunch, their easy conversation allowing Seraphina to momentarily forget the weight of everything else.
But reality was waiting.
By the time she got home, she slept for two more hours.
Yes, she liked sleeping. Not that she'd ever admit it.
By 6 PM, she was back at Oblivion Division, seated across from Ezrin and Kieran in Ezrin's office.
The dim lighting made the space feel heavier, the air thick with controlled silence.
A stack of documents lay between them—the evidence gathered from the mission.
Ezrin tapped his fingers against the desk, his sharp gaze scanning the files.
Kieran leaned back in his chair. "So, where do we start?"
Seraphina glanced at the pile. "With whatever's going to make the most people nervous."
Ezrin smirked slightly. "That would be all of it."
The tension was palpable as they sorted through the documents.
Each file unraveled a larger conspiracy.
This wasn't just a series of murders—it was something far more complex. Some victims hadn't just been killed; they had vanished, their entire existence erased. One file referenced a hidden facility with no official records, no government ties—completely off-the-books. The death certificates were forged, signed by nonexistent doctors, suggesting some of the victims might still be alive.
A trail of encrypted financial transactions led to offshore accounts linked to medical research companies, raising more questions than answers.
And then—the most chilling detail: a handwritten 'M' at the bottom of one falsified report.
Ezrin leaned forward. "We split the work," he said, calm and decisive. "Seraphina, you look into the missing individuals and their connection to the hidden facility. Kieran, trace the offshore accounts—I want to know who's funding this. I'll investigate who signed off on these death certificates... and find out who 'M' really is."
The plan was in motion.
Except—
Seraphina's phone wouldn't stop buzzing.
She ignored it at first.
Then it buzzed again. And again.
Kieran raised a brow. "Popular today, aren't we?"
Seraphina didn't react. She flipped her phone over, screen down.
Ezrin noticed.
His gaze flicked from her face to the phone, his expression unreadable.
The room fell into the hum of concentrated work. Ezrin analyzed files with cold precision, Kieran traced transactions, and Seraphina pieced together connections.
For a moment, the buzzing stopped.
She took the opportunity to grab what she needed—files, a notepad, her laptop. Two minutes of peace.
Then it buzzed again.
Kieran didn't even glance up. "Who keeps texting you? You get more messages in a day than I do in a year."
Seraphina muttered, "It's nothing."
She reached for her phone to silence it—but then paused as she read the screen.
Unknown Number.
Her brow furrowed as she opened the chat.
Stranger from earlier.
"Hey, didn't expect to text so soon, but was wondering if you'd be up for coffee later?""There's a quiet café near the district. No pressure, just thought I'd ask.""By the way, I realized we never exchanged names. I'm Callum.""And you are?""Or should I keep calling you 'Mysterious Stranger'?"
Seraphina blinked.
She hesitated before typing:
"Busy right now. Maybe some other day."
Just as she was about to turn off her phone—
"Fair enough. But you do owe me a name at least."
She exhaled through her nose, smirking faintly.
"Seraphina."
"Beautiful name. Talk soon, Seraphina."
She turned off her phone.
But Ezrin had been watching.
Not just watching—noticing.
Every flicker of emotion. Every pause. Every detail.
The air shifted—subtly, but unmistakably.
Kieran, oblivious, smirked. "So? Who was that?"
Seraphina sighed. "No one important."
Ezrin's gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. He didn't speak. Not yet.
For hours, the only sounds were rustling paper, tapping keys, and quiet focus.
Seraphina uncovered that some of the "disappeared" had re-emerged under new identities, while others vanished completely. The hidden facility wasn't just for research—it was for selection. Someone was deciding who lived, who died, and who was taken. A shipment log pointed to a location in Eastern Europe, confirming that this operation extended far beyond what they'd expected.
Kieran's financial trail led to research labs and underground organizations. Worse—one company had ties to an old case Ezrin worked on. This wasn't new. It had been running for years. The same accounts were funding both medical research and weapons development.
Meanwhile, Ezrin focused on the falsified death certificates and the 'M' signature. Many had no autopsies, no burials, no recorded cause of death. The falsified reports weren't hidden—they were approved by high-ranking officials.
This wasn't a rogue experiment.
It had global backing.
The picture was becoming clear: this was an organized operation. Victims weren't random—they were selected. The Eastern European facility might be where identities were erased. The offshore accounts proved it wasn't just about science—it was about power.
And at the center of it all—'M'.
Someone was watching their investigation. Systems were delayed, searches tampered with. The question wasn't if they'd be intercepted—it was when.
Kieran stretched. "Let's take a break. I'm getting coffee. What do you two want?"
Seraphina glanced up. "Hot chocolate."
Ezrin muttered without looking up, "Espresso."
Kieran scoffed. "Of course you would."
He left.
Ezrin returned to his work.
Seraphina grabbed her phone—and instantly regretted it.
The screen lit up with notifications. Again.
She muttered under her breath.
Ezrin's gaze—silent, unreadable—shifted to her.
Fifteen seconds of buzzing.
10 messages from Callum.
She frowned. "Who can be this bold after one meeting?"
Ezrin didn't answer. But he'd heard.
The rest of the messages? Lena.
She sighed, locking the phone.
But she didn't need to look up to know—
Ezrin was still watching her.
The silence stretched.
Then Ezrin finally spoke.
"Interesting," he said softly. "You usually ignore distractions."
Not a question. Not an accusation. An observation.
But it lingered.
She looked up. His gaze was sharp. Measuring.
She said nothing—just picked up a pen and focused on the files.
Unbothered.
At least, that's what she told herself.
But Ezrin?
He'd already filed the moment away.
He waited.
"No reply?" His voice was low. Amused.
Seraphina glanced up. "Didn't realize it needed one."
Ezrin smirked. "It doesn't."
He leaned back, tapping the desk.
"But I'm curious. What does a man like him say to keep your attention?"
"A man like him?"
"Persistent. Bold. Too comfortable for someone who's only met you once."
"You sound invested."
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "You sound defensive."
Silence again.
Then Seraphina looked back at her file.
End of discussion.
Ezrin let it go.
For now.
But his fingers stopped tapping.
The tension remained—dense, unspoken.
Then Kieran walked back in. "Alright, drinks are here."
He set the hot chocolate in front of Seraphina, espresso before Ezrin.
He paused. "Did I miss something?"
Ezrin, not breaking eye contact with Seraphina: "No."
Seraphina: "Nothing at all."
Kieran narrowed his eyes. But neither elaborated.
So he shrugged and sat down. "Well, at least thank me for the best coffee in the city."
Seraphina hummed.
Ezrin just smirked.
Whatever this was—it wasn't over.
At exactly 2 AM, Ezrin spoke.
"From now on, I'll be handling your training."
Seraphina's grip on her cup tightened.
She looked up, neutral. "Sounds exhausting."
Ezrin smirked. "Good."