Sira froze, feeling her heart simultaneously constrict and expand.
In the far corner of the balcony, Rina stood, hand over her mouth, eyes wide with astonishment and apprehension. The city glittered behind them, and the stars watched, but the moment belonged to them alone. Still... timeless... broken.
The night fell silent for a moment... before being pierced by a sharp sound. Aiden's phone rang, a chime that was nothing but a harbinger of new trouble.
He stood there, still as a steel statue, his features, which a moment ago had overflowed with warmth and serenity, suddenly turned cold as winter frost. He slowly raised the phone, as if every movement was calculated, then brought it to his ear, while the life in his eyes gradually faded, and hope vanished from them like a flicker extinguished in a storm.
A stern voice from the other end said, "Sir, we've discovered a strange series of conspiracies at a hotel in the north of the city. Something doesn't seem right."
Aiden pursed his lips. He didn't answer immediately, allowing a heavy silence to pass, before saying in a low but deep voice, "Again?" The word was saturated with a weariness known only to those who carry a weight heavier than their heart.
The man continued with hesitation in his voice, "And Luna... she still refuses to cooperate. She's asking for you specifically."
A faint, sidelong smile appeared on Aiden's lips, but it was unsettling. It was more like a reflection of something more dangerous than what was said. Then he spoke in a voice imbued with cold confidence and cunning, "I'll head to the inn first. Send the location immediately."
He then added, his eyes staring into the distance as if planning an attack, "And Luna? Don't leave her alone. Take our patrol with you. Her mind has gone beyond normal madness... if you let her escape, you'll find nothing but ashes." He paused for a moment before concluding with a hushed sentence, like a promise, "After this mission... I'll visit her. It's time to give that madness a perfectly opposing storm."
He quietly hung up the phone, without looking at it again, then slowly turned as if the world had resumed motion after stillness. Rina watched him, pale-faced, her hand clutching the edge of her sister Sira's shirt.
Aiden's eyes returned to Sira, those sharp gazes that read what wasn't said. Then, in his quiet voice, which seemed like a breeze hiding a hurricane, he said, "Is this your sister?"
Sira, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, answered with a slight stutter that didn't help her attempt to compose herself, "Y-yes, Rina is my middle sister..."
Her tone was a mix of caution and astonishment, but he read what lay behind it. Aiden smiled... but this time the smile was genuine, calm, like someone wanting to offer some reassurance after the earthquake had exhausted them.
He slowly approached Rina, with a slight bow, looking directly into her eyes, then extended his hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Rina... I'm sorry for the mess that happened. I didn't mean to scare you."
The girl hesitated for a few seconds, then extended her small hand towards his and said softly, "Nice to meet you."
But Sira wasn't far. She watched the exchange with worried eyes, then stepped forward and said in a decisive tone, though not without warmth, "It seems you're leaving. Everything is over, and we'll go."
She could have ended her speech there, but she wanted to end the encounter with dignity.
Aiden looked at her for a moment, then a smile appeared on his face, one that held much unsaid. His eyes, which had been glowing a deep black, suddenly sparkled with a soft blue gleam, like a flash of twilight at sunset, deep, saturated with secrets. He gently extended his hand, grasped her arm before she could move away, then leaned in slightly and whispered in her ear in a voice only her heart could hear:
"I am the storm, Sira... and you are the only hope within it. Do you have the strength to face what I hide?"
The air around her froze. Her pulse was erratic. But her eyes, despite their disturbance, did not flee from his.
Then she smiled, that smile that only comes from a woman who has chosen to face, and said with a quiet confidence that pierced the silence:
"If you want me with you... I will be that hope that absorbs the storm until it calms."
Rina and Sira sat on Sira's bed, the room's atmosphere filled with a soft light from a small lamp on the table, reflecting warm colors on the room's walls. The room's window overlooked the city, pulsating with its lights, as if the sky whispered its secrets through a twinkling star.
Rina looked at her sister with worried eyes. Rina asked, "Aiden... have you met him before?"
Eileen suddenly interjected, sitting on the doorstep, looking astonished as if she'd heard a strange conversation she couldn't believe. "Sira... the police officer? The Lamborghini Huracán Evo man?" She glared at her, as if trying to understand what was happening, then added, "What's going on with you, girl?"
Sira was silent for a moment, looking at the floor as if reorganizing her thoughts, then looked at Rina and said in a low voice mixed with confusion, "Who is Aiden really, Rina?"
Eileen smiled with childish admiration, as if hearing a musical name calling her. "Aiden... a name that fits."
Sira gazed out the balcony, watching the city lights mingling with the sparkle of stars in the sky, the distant street sounds like background music to her thoughts. She said in a voice that was almost choked with emotion, "Aiden..."
Then she continued in a hushed tone, almost a secret confession, "A storm... a storm I loved."
She looked directly at her sister, her eyes filled with a sea of memories, and spoke words that pierced the silence: "I looked into his eyes... his eyes that tell a thousand stories, his eyelashes, his hair playing in the breeze, his scent that fills my soul with warmth, and his smile that lit my path in the darkness of nights. I became filled with all his details overnight, and Aiden became a part of my life... a part I cannot abandon."
Rina sighed deeply, as if trying to balance emotions and reality, then said with a sad smile, "The girl is drowning... drowning in her feelings."
But her tone quickly changed, becoming sharp and serious, her words echoing as if carrying the weight of the world, "But he's broken, Sira... broken from the inside. Can you truly save him? Save someone the whole world failed to save?"
At that moment, Aiden stood before the mirror, adjusting the collar of his dark police uniform with the discipline befitting someone who allowed no randomness to creep into his appearance. The lamp's light reflected on his black earring, which swayed lightly beneath his ear, like a seal of his sharp style. His blue-black hair fell in neat strands across his forehead, adding to the coolness of his gaze.
He ran his hand over his chest to ensure the metal badge was secure, then left. Inside the elevator, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Sira. An automated voice sounded, "Ground floor," followed by a slight vibration.
He exited with steady, firm steps, as if going to direct a storm. He put on his black helmet, then the roar of his motorcycle engine echoed, a deep growl like a predatory animal just awoken from its slumber. The motorcycle sped past the city lights, and between his eyes, there was a storm... forming, growing, preparing to strike.
Shortly after, he stood before an old inn surrounded by police cars from all directions. Their red and blue lights reflected the tension of the situation, dancing on his face like a pre-storm warning. He dismounted his motorcycle, slowly removed his helmet, adjusted his hair, then put on his black gloves that revealed his fingertips.
He approached the inn's entrance, his steps quiet but carrying an unseen weight. Before he reached it, he was stopped by a familiar voice, soft yet sarcastic:
"Aiden? What brings a beast like you, who loves to prey, here? And in this uniform?"
Aiden stopped without turning, then gave a slight sidelong smile, like a soft scratch on a wall of coldness, and replied in a low voice, "Arin."
Then he turned to him with sharp eyes and continued, "And the real question... why is a doctor, who is supposed to be busy saving lives, staying in a suspicious inn?"
Arin appeared amidst the glare of the lights, his brown hair swaying in the wind, his green eyes sparkling under the tense scene's light, wearing a single metal earring in his left ear.
He replied with a warm smile, but one that concealed something deeper, "I'm a doctor, as you know. I was working abroad and just returned. Tomorrow I move to my new apartment and the hospital where I'll begin my work."
Aiden shook his head slightly, a quick look full of rejection, "Then, let me hope we don't meet again, Arin."
Arin laughed softly, as if the phrase hadn't penetrated his barrier, then said in a calm tone, "Don't worry... I haven't missed seeing you anyway."
Then he turned his back, his steps slow as if trying not to awaken something in his heart. With each step, his voice faded until it was almost inaudible, but he murmured a word that escaped him like a small bleed:
"...Brother."
He didn't turn. And he didn't stop.
But the air changed. And the moment solidified in place.
As for Aiden, he remained standing, his features frozen, except for a slight tremor that crossed his gaze... then he hid it, as he was accustomed to.
Aiden approached the inn manager's office with slow, measured steps, as if controlling the room's pulse. The floor creaked softly under his heavy boots. The light from the hanging lamp swayed slightly above the desk, casting shadows on the face of the man seated behind it, as if outlining his fear line by line.
The man was bald, wearing a shirt with buttons tightened at the neck, sweating profusely, his eyes avoiding direct contact with the visitor.
Aiden sat in the leather chair opposite, his back straight, then clasped his fingers, resting his elbow on the armrest, his face in his palm as if observing a work of art in which he held neither mercy nor astonishment.
He said in a low voice, with a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes: "Don't worry, I'm not the villain in this story, sir... I won't force you to say what you fear... but I just... prefer that you tell the truth with your own tongue rather than under duress."
He paused for a moment, then leaned slightly forward: "How about... we go together? To that place where you buried your fish. The place that hung you by your soul until you forgot who you were."
Aiden smiled, but in his smile was a cold cruelty: "I know you're a good man deep down, or you were... So would you prefer to be interrogated by the police? Or confess now... and return, even if only a little, to the features of that old self within you? Tell me, were the lives of children and teenagers a cheap game in your hands?"
The manager trembled, words cracking in his throat, as if falling from him unspoken: "I... I swear I didn't mean to. I just... I couldn't go back. I... I was led by worldly desires, seduced by the lights... everything seemed easy at first."
Aiden raised his eyebrow, rested his cheek on his palm again, and looked at him with amusement: "And... was it delicious? That life that ate you piece by piece?"
Silence ensued.
Then he continued in a hushed voice like an ancient charm: "Life, my friend... is a labyrinth. Every corner sets a trap for you... And you? You fell into the first trap and thought it was salvation. It's sweet, yes... but its sweetness is devilish. And each of us fell in our own way. The important thing now... is to fix what remains."
The manager slowly raised his head, looking at Aiden as if what he had said awakened him from a long nightmare. Then he stood with heavy steps and said in a broken voice, "Follow me... I'll lead you to the place. I don't want to die with this burden on my conscience."
Moments later, the police approached the manager, their hands cuffing his trembling wrists. He was breathing with difficulty, his gaze fixed on Aiden, as if there was something unsaid within him.
The man said in a hoarse voice, filled with breakage and regret, "I... I never wanted to forget my humanity... but..."
Before he could finish, Aiden approached with quiet steps, as if their impact silenced all sounds in the place. He placed his hand on the man's collapsing shoulder, and his hand was strangely warm, unlike the usual coldness in his presence.
He said in a soft voice, with a rare tenderness, "Don't worry... you're on the right path now. Just think that you're correcting a mistake you made, not escaping from it."
His voice carried a mix of truth and hope, like one who knows that sin cannot be erased, but it can be confronted.
Then he slowly lowered his hand, and his eyes... His black eyes, intertwined with a faint blue, as if they were a piece of the moonlit night sky, lost their strict sparkle for a moment. They transformed into a calm sea... no waves, no wind, just heavy stillness.
In that stillness, a fleeting memory flashed: Damp darkness, chains rusting on a stone floor, and the sound of the iron door closing on a small boy locked in the basement... the sound of his foster father walking away, leaving him there to "purify" himself from a sin he never knew.
That memory was cut short by Arin's voice, as he stood beside him, his voice calm with a hint of a smile: "Aiden... are you with us? I can't believe you sympathized with the man."
Aiden blinked, returning to reality, then raised his eyebrow with a sarcastic sidelong smile, shaking off the sadness for a moment and saying in a feigned mocking tone, "Hmm... I have a strange ritual. Whenever I catch a criminal, I go off grid for a few moments... because I'm... sad."
Arin laughed softly, with a touch of nostalgia, and said, "I guess you're still the same... crazy."
Aiden turned his back, slowly putting on his helmet, as if it were a mask concealing what lay beneath, then looked at Arin out of the corner of his eye, and said in a low but decisive voice, "Let's not meet often... Arin."
Then his motorcycle roared again, piercing the silence of the place like the growl of a wounded animal, and the city lights reflected on his back as he pulled away... like a shadow that leaves no trace, yet leaves an impression on souls.
As Arin stepped into his Audi A5 Sportback, its metallic gray color reflecting the shimmering neon lights dancing on the asphalt, he quietly closed the door as if the echo of the sound dissolved into the silence of the night. The car smoothly glided away, as if whispering to the road rather than driving on it. In that moment, time seemed to race behind him, trying to catch up before he disappeared into the city's labyrinth.
On the opposite side, the roar of Aiden's motorcycle tore through the stillness, a deep, rough sound like an awakened beast. Despite the contrast, there was a strange harmony between the elegant car's sound and the wild motorcycle's, like a duet between two opposing notes – one gliding on a piano, the other striking chords of anger.
The city lights poured around them – neon blue, stark yellow, faint purple – as if someone had painted the city's night with electric dyes, and the street became a canvas, and they its moving lines. In the background, the sounds faded, while the image took over: a car and a motorcycle moving in different directions, yet sharing the same silence filled with unrevealed secrets.
Everything in that moment seemed to carry a hidden melody... a melody concealing a story told only to those who listen in silence.