The rain fell softly that evening in Pittsburgh, beating against the tall glass windows of the apartment like secrets too tired to travel far. The city lights below flickered against the damp haze, painting the room in hues of gold and grey.
Inside, the air was still just too still. Yunli sat at the head of the narrow dining table, a small tablet screen glowing before her. Her eyes, sharp and calm as ever, scanned the message that had arrived moments ago under the encrypted seal of Athalia who is Vice Head Council of the MACE Organization to which they all belong to.
Across from her sat Sonia, arms crossed, tapping her fingers restlessly against the wood. Oscar leaned against the window, cigarette unlit between his lips, while Vincent paced slow circles near the door, silent but clearly uneasy.
Yunli finally exhaled, breaking the tension like a blade slicing through wire.
"It's official," she said, her voice low and deliberate. "We've been called in."
Sonia's brows rose. "Called in for what, exactly? We've been dark for nearly two years."
"Three years" Vincent said trying to ease the tension.
Yunli turned the tablet so they could all see. The message was brief but dense, written in Athalia's precise, clinical tone with no greetings and formalities of course.
**Subject:** Operation Blackline Classified Level IV.
The "merchandise" is confirmed to be in motion. Transport under the guise of industrial freight by AXILE Corporation — Parris, France.
AXILE is a semi-large logistics firm with affiliate networks scattered throughout Île-de-France. However, recent intelligence links their upper management with at least four crime syndicates and two off-grid research bodies.
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...Due to the city's semi-isolated communication system and monopolized network satellites, conventional surveillance is limited. The French government is either complicit or silent.
*
// You are to "observe" and, if possible, "intercept". Full discretion is expected. Further details classified until confirmation of target arrival.
– Athalia, Vice Head Council, MACE.
The room fell into a deep, pulsing silence.
Oscar finally took the cigarette from his mouth and set it aside, his voice a low growl. "Parris, huh? That city's a graveyard for anyone who doesn't know which hands are clean—and I don't think any are."
Vincent stopped pacing, his cold gaze flicking toward Yunli. "AXILE…" he murmured. "I've heard that name before. Front company. Imports and exports everything from machinery to pharmaceuticals. But half its shipments never make it through customs."
Sonia leaned forward, her sharp tone slicing through the growing tension. "So we're after a shipment 'merchandise,' whatever that means, but no clue what it is? Sounds like a setup."
Yunli's expression didn't waver, though her fingers tightened slightly on the tablet. "Athalia wouldn't send a notice this vague unless something bigger was moving under it. The timing… coincides with the reports from Detroit and Geneva—superhuman traces resurfacing in black markets."
Oscar scoffed. "And Parris just happens to be the hotspot now. Figures."
Outside, thunder rumbled faintly, like an omen crawling across the horizon.
Yunli stood, sliding the tablet onto the table and crossing her arms. "There's something else," she said, her tone softening but the weight in her voice deepening. "Athalia's note mentioned that Paris isn't just crime-ridden it's selectively violent. The natives never fall victim. Not once. Every death, every disappearance, it's always foreigners, outsiders…those who ask too many questions regardless of age , old or young."
Sonia's jaw tightened. "That's a whole new level of corruption. That's control."
" you aren't wrong but it's not like there haven't be some foreigners who went there and didn't survive. In fact they gave heartfelt compliments," Yunli replied. "Which means whoever runs that city, the politicians, the syndicates, the corporate heads, they're working under a single network. A government ruled by its own shadows."
Vincent leaned against the doorframe, silent for a long while before speaking. "And we're walking right into it. Pretty sure we're not the only ones who are going to be eyeing the merchandise"
Oscar cracked a dry grin, but there was no humor behind it. "Then let's hope we're the kind of outsiders they love having."
Yunli gave him a measured glance, then looked toward the rain-slicked window.
"Pack lightly," she said. "Athalia's expecting confirmation within twenty-four hours. We leave for Parris at dawn."
And as lightning flared across the Pittsburgh skyline, their reflections flickered in the glass four agents caught between duty and dread, each aware that the city they were heading into a not just another assignment.
The morning light over Parris was pale and cold, the kind that barely touched the skin a ghostly shimmer against the steel-gray skyline. The air carried the scent of rain mixed with exhaust and the faint aroma of bread from unseen bakeries. Beneath that ordinary city hum, however, tension pulsed like a hidden current.
In the courtyard of a vast AXILE Corporation complex, convoys lined up like armored serpents black vans, reinforced trucks, and sleek security transports gleaming under the soft drizzle. The ground was marked with faded yellow lines and numbered bays, each occupied by soldiers in dark tactical gear, their eyes hidden behind black visors.
At the center of it all stood "Ian Allen", the operations coordinator and field director for AXILE's private contracts a tall, crisp man in a dark trench coat, his silver badge gleaming faintly beneath his lapel. His face was lean, intelligent, and unreadable, though his voice cut sharply through the low murmur of the gathered troops.
"Welcome to Parris," he began, tone calm but commanding. "You've all been transferred here for one purpose "containment and movement of classified property." You'll hear it called 'the merchandise.' You don't ask what it is, you just make sure it arrives where it's meant to."
The crowd stood at rigid attention. A hundred and thirty strong trained operatives, mercenaries, and experimental soldiers each with scars and pasts buried beneath uniform precision.
Ian's sharp gaze moved across them, his hand clasped behind his back. "The city will not be kind to you if you refuse to comply. Parris is divided half under the watch of the state, half under the control of people we do not name. You move only when instructed the moment we start transporting, and you move cleanly. The success of this operation determines whether AXILE continues to exist or burns to the ground."
He turned slightly, signaling to a tall, dark-skinned man with cropped hair who stepped forward, a digital tablet in hand.
"This is Raphael, head of Tech and Surveillance," Ian continued. "He's in charge of monitoring the merchandise convoy, the satellite link, and drone observation. His security detail will consist of the female black ops unit led by Scarlet given the recommendation from your boss."
At the mention of her name, Scarlet stepped out from the crowd, dark crimson hair tucked beneath her beret, her eyes steady and sharp. Behind her, the rest of her team, all women, mirrored her composure.