The metal door slid open with a low hiss.
Light spilled into the room, cutting through the dim.
Noir opened his eyes slowly.
"On your feet. You're needed."
He stood—not because he was told to. Because resisting had no point.
They walked him down the corridor.
The floor reeked of bleach.
Some inmates watched him pass. Others didn't bother.
He didn't look back. He didn't need to.
They took him somewhere deeper than he'd ever been.
The hallway opened into a large, sterile chamber.
Racks of weapons lined the walls—rifles, blades, gear he didn't recognize.
It felt less like storage, more like preparation.
And at the far end stood the man himself.
The President.
Polished shoes. Black gloves. A faint, polite smile.
"This is the boy?" he asked, not turning around.
A woman stood beside him—dark hair, sharp eyes.
Nila.
"Yes," she replied.
The President tapped a remote. A hologram flickered on.
A scarred face rotated slowly. Red text blinked.
UN CLASS A-1 THREAT
WANTED FOR GLOBAL TERRORISM
TEN NATIONS. TEN STRIKES.
United States. France. Japan. The list scrolled on.
"You'll find him," the President said. "And do what needs to be done."
Then, finally, his gaze met Noir's.
"You want to see your family again, don't you?"
Noir didn't answer.
"Good."
The man turned and walked away. Like it was just protocol.
As the team packed gear, Nila stepped close.
"Can I talk to you?"
Noir gave a slight nod.
They moved behind the weapon racks.
"You're being lied to," she said.
He watched her. Calm. Quiet.
"He's not reuniting you with your family. He never meant to."
"How do you know?"
"I helped build this place. This program. I know how they work."
His eyes narrowed. "Why now?"
Instead of answering, she pulled out a recorder and hit play.
"Would you let him see them?" a voice asked.
A short laugh.
"Hell no."
Click.
Silence followed. Heavier than the recording.
Noir's jaw tightened—but he said nothing.
"Why tell me?" he asked.
"Because you deserve to know."
Flat. Direct. No drama. Just truth.
"That's it."
He looked away. The mission was coming. Everything else could wait.
Then—
Alarms.
Red lights cut across the room.
"Three inmates have escaped," a voice echoed. "Repeat: three have escaped."
Guards scattered. One grabbed Noir and pulled him toward the cells.
---
Later. In the control room.
The President stood, hands clasped behind his back.
"Report."
"Clean break," a guard replied. "Planned. We didn't see it coming."
A pause.
"Understood."
---
Seven hours later.
The helicopter carved through night.
Its blades drowned out both wind and thought.
Inside, Noir sat strapped across from a tactical unit.
Red cabin light pulsed over armor and helmets.
"You ready, kid?" one of them asked.
Noir nodded.
The bay doors opened.
Cold air roared in.
Below—broken concrete. Skeletal towers.
Noir stepped forward.
And jumped.
Air screamed past him.
No nerves. No thoughts.
Only focus.
He counted the seconds.
Chute deployed. A hard jolt.
Through the haze, a rusted tower stood alone.
His earpiece buzzed.
"Visual on the tower?"
"I see it."
"Secure the top floor. Standard sweep. Copy?"
"Copy."
He hit the ground, boots scraping dry earth.
The team landed beside him—silent, efficient, armed.
Noir carried two tools:
A sidearm.
A survival knife.
The tower's base was a grave of old machines, thick with dust.
"Clear," he said into comms.
"Move up."
He climbed the stairs slowly. Listening more than looking.
Then—
A click. Behind his head.
"Don't move," a voice said. "Seriously. I'll shoot."
Noir froze. Let his weapon drop.
"Turn around. Slowly."
He turned.
A boy stood there. Barely older than him.
Hands trembling. Fear bleeding through the act.
"You… You were one of the trials," the boy stammered. "You never—"
Noir moved.
Dropped low. Rolled. Grabbed the gun.
One shot.
The boy collapsed.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
"You good?" a soldier asked.
"Yeah. He was one of ours. From before. Guess he ran."
"Unlucky."
Noir looked down.
The boy's eyes were still open.
Something twisted inside him.
He didn't know what.
Maybe regret.
Maybe nothing.
But whatever it was, it passed.
He turned away.
The mission wasn't over yet.