Morning came quietly in WAN EMPIRE, as though the night's violence had never happened.
Curly woke before the bell rang, her body stiff and her mind restless. The image of the execution still lingered in her thoughts, refusing to fade. She sat up slowly, rubbing her arms as a chill crept over her skin.
Around her, the other girls slept.
Except Sara.
"Get up," Sara whispered, already dressed. "You've been reassigned."
Curly's heart skipped. "Reassigned?"
"Yes," Sara said, her expression unreadable. "And listen carefully — whatever you see, whatever you hear, you keep it to yourself."
Curly nodded quickly.
They walked through unfamiliar corridors, guarded by men who barely spared Curly a glance. Each step felt heavier than the last.
"This area isn't for slaves," Curly whispered.
"It is now," Sara replied.
They stopped in front of a sleek black door.
"Remember," Sara said quietly, "stay silent. Stay useful."
The door opened.
---
STORM'S QUARTERS
Storm stood near the window, fastening his watch. Rhoda sat at the desk, scrolling through encrypted data.
"You're late," Rhoda said without looking up.
"They were delayed," Storm replied calmly.
His gaze fell on Curly.
For a brief moment, his expression shifted — curiosity, recognition, something deeper. Then it was gone.
"This is Curly," Sara said, bowing slightly. "She'll assist with cleaning and errands."
Storm nodded once. "Fine."
Curly kept her head down, but she felt his eyes on her as she moved.
The room was immaculate, cold, and powerful — much like Storm himself.
As she wiped down the desk, voices filled the room.
"LOS EMPIRE intercepted another route last night," Rhoda said. "They're mapping our operations."
Storm leaned against the wall. "Then we stop moving predictably."
Curly's hand trembled slightly.
I shouldn't be hearing this, she thought.
Suddenly, something slipped from her grip — a small metallic drive — clattering onto the floor.
The room went silent.
Curly froze.
Storm picked it up before she could react.
Rhoda stiffened. "That wasn't meant to be there."
Curly dropped to her knees instantly. "I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
Storm studied her carefully.
"Look at me," he said.
Her heart pounded as she lifted her gaze.
"Did you read anything?" he asked calmly.
"No," she replied quickly. "I don't even know what that is."
Rhoda's eyes searched her face.
Storm handed the drive back to Rhoda. "She's telling the truth."
Rhoda hesitated, then nodded.
"Be careful," she warned Curly. "Curiosity gets people killed."
Curly swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am."
---
DANGER'S ENTRANCE
The door burst open without warning.
Danger walked in, tension rolling off him like heat.
His eyes landed on Curly.
Something dark flickered there.
"What's she doing here?" he asked sharply.
"She's assigned to me," Storm replied.
Danger laughed humorlessly. "Since when do slaves work this close?"
Storm stepped forward slightly. "Since I said so."
The air thickened.
Danger's gaze never left Curly. "Careful, Storm. Things close to fire tend to burn."
Curly felt exposed — like prey.
"Get out," Storm said quietly.
Danger smirked before turning away. "Enjoy your pet."
The door slammed shut.
Curly flinched.
---
AFTER
When the room finally emptied, Curly exhaled shakily.
"You did well," Storm said unexpectedly.
She looked at him in surprise.
"Thank you… sir."
He paused. "Don't call me that."
She nodded, confused.
As she turned to leave, he added, "This place isn't forgiving. Keep your head down."
"I will."
But as Curly walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just stepped into something far bigger than herself.
Too close.
Too dangerous.
And far too late to turn back.