[Raphael – Darvi Corporation HQ]
He was supposed to be f*cking dead.
That thought clawed at Raphael's brain the whole way through the city — face hot, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, heart pacing like it owed someone money.
Daniel.
He saw him.
Alive. Walking down the hallway like some sh*t didn't just try to take him out.
No stab wounds. No limp. No funeral. Just that same stupid look on his face — like the world owed him nothing and he was fine with it.
Raphael wanted to scream.
He stole $4000 from Farrel — four thousand dollars — and gave it to XUX. A real hit. A real knife. A real killer.
And it still failed.
He wasn't just angry. He was terrified.
If Farrel found out… if XUX blamed him for wasting their time...
No. He had to get ahead of it.
He needed in.
The building stood tall, glass skin glowing under the sun like it had nothing to hide.
Darvi Corporation.
"Plastic for every part of your life."
That's what their website said.
Boxes, containers, storage sh*t. Legit stuff.
But buried under all that? XUX.
The real core. The real factory.
Not of plastic.
Of corpses.
Raphael stepped into the air-conditioned lobby.
It was too cold. Too perfect.
Reception desk. White marble floors. A fake tree in the corner.
The woman at the desk typed something with those stiff, corporate fingers. Didn't even look at him.
"I'm here for a job," he said.
She paused.
"What is the world about?"
Code phrase.
He swallowed. "…Oranges and apples."
Click.
She pressed something under the desk.
"Gate C."
Nothing else. No expression. No eye contact.
He walked.
The hallway stretched longer than it looked.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
At the end: a thick metal door — Gate C.
He stepped through it and into a different world.
This room was dead quiet.
No sunlight. No music. No glass.
People were scattered across old benches and folding chairs.
Some wore suits. Others were wrapped in bruises.
Raphael couldn't tell if half of them were here to apply for a job or put a hit on someone.
There was a counter at the far wall.
No logo. No name. Just a bulletproof window and a guy staring like his soul checked out years ago.
Raphael walked up, shoulders square.
"I want in," he said.
The man didn't speak. Just slid a clipboard through the slot.
"Above 18?"
He ticked Yes. Didn't hesitate.
Then came the envelope.
Plain. Sealed.
"Interview tomorrow. Don't open until you're told."
That was it. No handshake. No welcome.
Just a gate, a list, and a paper that might change his life or end it.
He walked out fast.
His fingers curled tight around the envelope like it might get snatched away.
No matter what happened next — he was in the machine now.
-----
[Daniel – Home]
-----
He hadn't said a word all morning.
No appetite. No scrolling. He didn't even bother changing his shirt — the same one from yesterday, with blood on the sleeve.
He sat against the wall, legs stretched out across the cold floor, one hand limp in his lap. The other — the stitched one — throbbed beneath thick layers of gauze. Every little pulse reminded him he shouldn't be here.
The knife had gone clean through.
Not a scratch. Not a cut.
Through.
He tried moving his fingers. Regretted it immediately.
Breathing was slow. Careful. His ribs still hated him for trying to stand too fast this morning.
He gave up halfway and slid back down like dead weight.
Across the room, Pheno slept on a pile of laundry. For once, even she looked drained.
Daniel didn't feel like a survivor. Not really.
He hadn't outsmarted anyone.
He hadn't fought well.
He'd just… stalled long enough.
He'd told her not to help. Told her to walk away.
Because he didn't want anyone else bleeding on his behalf. Not again.
And she listened. At first.
Watched from the shadows while he fought for his life — stupid, desperate swings, broken breathing, blood dripping from his hand.
He should've died.
But when things started to spiral and the hitman stopped holding back —
She moved.
No words. No hesitation.
Just clean strikes, fast takedown, and silence.
Then she stood over the guy's body, looked at Daniel slumped in the corner, and said:
-----
"Didn't feel like watching someone die today."
-----
No comfort. No follow-up.
That was it.
Daniel leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes close. Not to sleep — just to quiet the static behind his eyes.
He didn't know what to do next.
Didn't even know if anything around him was real anymore.
The floor felt like it was floating. The silence was too loud. The walls too thin.
But the pain in his hand was real.
The stabbings were real.
And the fact that he was still breathing?
...Yeah. That was real too.
-------
It was Saturday. Finally.
No school. No pressure. Just sitting in some overpriced café with Isac and Sunny, trying to feel normal again. The three of them had iced coffees in hand, mostly quiet, watching people walk by outside like life hadn't just nearly ended a couple days ago.
Daniel's hand still ached. Stitched up, wrapped, ugly.
He reached for his drink a little slower than usual, trying not to wince. Of course, Isac caught it.
"What the hell happened to your hand?" he asked.
Daniel looked down at it like he hadn't noticed until now.
"Glass," he said. "Dropped something. Was dumb."
"Dropped it and tried to catch it mid-air?" Sunny asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Something like that, you asked this yesterday too".
They didn't buy it, clearly, but no one pushed. Maybe they were just glad he was out and talking again. Daniel didn't feel like going into it anyway. He took a long sip through his straw and let the cold hit the back of his throat.
They talked about random stuff after that — Pheno biting toes Isac's gym mishap where he accidentally wore two different shoes(dumba**), Sunny almost falling asleep during his photoshoot last week. It felt... good. Like things were still okay somewhere beneath all the noise.
Then the bell above the café door rang, and the energy shifted.
Lehya walked in, looking like she belonged in some kind of slow-motion movie moment — hair tied up, calm, confident, like nothing could touch her.
She spotted them instantly. Walked straight over. And without saying a word, wrapped her arms around Sunny from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.
Daniel blinked.
Isac stared.
They both gave each other that look.
Like. What. The. Hell.
Isac leaned over the table slowly. "Bro… when the f*ck did this happen?"
Sunny looked genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"
Daniel just stared at his drink, then back at them, straw still in his mouth.
"Mans just unlocked the secret route or something."
Sunny glanced back at Lehya, who sat next to him now, casually sipping from his drink like it was nothing.
"Oh. After that whole thing with Venny," Sunny explained. "She got hurt… and we just kept talking after that. Met up a few times. Outside the shop too."
Isac looked between the two of them. "And now she hugs you like y'all pay rent together?"
Sunny blinked. "We're not dating."
Daniel gave him a slow nod. "Sure you're not."
Lehya just smiled, totally unbothered. "Hey, guys."
Daniel raised his drink. "Hey, Sunny's not-girlfriend."
They all laughed after that. Even Sunny, eventually.
For the first time in days, it felt like things weren't falling apart.
Just three idiots in a coffee shop.
Alive.
Together.