"Yeah…" he murmured, spinning the kujang in his hand. "The weight is perfect."
He stepped into the center of the room.
With a swift motion, he threw the weapon into the air. The blade sliced forward, piercing a practice dummy in the corner. Just before it hit the floor, Kaivan pulled the chain—
The kujang snapped back into his hand like lightning.
Fabrizio let out a small laugh, satisfied.
Then, a gentle voice echoed from the speakers.
"Kaivan, be careful. If that gets recorded by the cameras, I won't be able to trace you," said Lyra, the AI who was always watching over them.
Kaivan nodded without a word. He continued his training, his movements growing faster, sharper—each throw like a quiet symphony of metal and air.
Fabrizio watched in awe, then gave his shoulder a firm pat. "I'll make you a support weapon later," he said. "Something truly unique."
Kaivan met his gaze, silent but full of trust. A faint smile was enough to convey his respect. That day ended with a spark of renewed spirit—two young geniuses standing beneath the glow of machinery, aware that they had just ignited the beginning of something extraordinary.
That night, on the other side of the headquarters complex, a quiet laboratory rested in futuristic serenity. Soft blue LED lights reflected off metallic walls, while a faint antiseptic scent spoke of near-sterile cleanliness. Yet behind a titanium door on the eastern wing, the atmosphere was entirely different—the private shower room for the elite women's team was wrapped in warm, drifting steam.
Dim ceiling lights gently traced the forms of five girls: Thivi, Livia, Felicia, Zinnia, and Isabel. Thick vapor veiled their bodies, revealing only shifting silhouettes beneath the showers. The steady rush of water became a rhythmic backdrop, slowly dissolving the tension of the day.
Livia, with her blonde hair and clear blue eyes, stood beneath the shower on the right. Water flowed through her hair, carrying foam down to her slender shoulders. In a soft voice, she said, "I'm relieved that Brother Kaivan is safe." Her words lingered in the air—warm and sincere.
Isabel stood in the farthest corner, half-hidden by mist. Her pale pink hair fell down her back, covered in shampoo foam. She seemed calm—perhaps too calm—but her closed eyes showed that she was listening.
Thivi, her short hair plastered to her cheeks, grinned mischievously under another shower. Rubbing her arms, she muttered proudly, "Good thing I managed to hug him before we were separated."
Felicia, tall and elegant, leaned against the wall. Water dripped from her black hair onto the floor, her expression flat but her gaze sharp. "You're lucky you didn't do anything stupid," she said coolly.
Thivi only laughed softly, her shoulders rising and falling. She glanced at Zinnia, who was squeezing water from her hair. "Stupid? The weird one is Zinnia!" she exclaimed, half-joking. "Remember the hot spring at the villa? She sat right on Kaivan's face!"
Zinnia flinched, her face instantly turning red. Even the steam couldn't hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. "That was just an accident!" she stammered. "I didn't mean to!"
Isabel slowly opened her eyes. Her voice was calm, yet piercing. "But, Thivi," she said quietly without turning around, "weren't you the one who kissed Kaivan in the warehouse that time?"
Her words dropped into the room like a stone into still water. Silence fell. All the girls turned at once.
Zinnia's eyes widened, her voice jumping an octave. "Huh?! What?!"
Felicia, who had been leaning casually, straightened and stepped slowly toward Thivi. Her movements were smooth yet dangerous, like a lioness preparing to strike. Her eyes narrowed, her breathing steady but heavy.
"Explain it to me, Thivi," Felicia said flatly, her voice cold as a blade of ice. "What did you really do with Kaivan back then?"
Thivi flinched. She stepped back, raising both hands halfway in surrender. "H-Hey, wait! It's not what you think! I was just… trying to cheer him up at the time!"
Isabel didn't move, as if Thivi's words were nothing more than echoes dissolving in the warm steam. Zinnia stared in confusion, while Felicia never looked away for even a second.
Livia suddenly spoke up, rubbing her eyes where shampoo foam had slipped in. "But… when we first arrived in Georgia, I noticed Brother Kaivan kept looking at Isabel. Then he'd pretend not to when she turned around."
In an instant, every gaze shifted to Isabel.
She stood beneath the shower, water flowing from the tips of her hair down to her toes. Silent. Motionless. Yet the air around her changed—heavier, denser, harder to breathe.
Zinnia took a small step forward. Her voice was gentle, but her curiosity was sharp. "Oh, right… I remember. You two were alone together then, weren't you? When you both went missing and couldn't be contacted?"
Isabel slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze pierced through them—not with anger, but with something deeper: doubt, guilt, and feelings that should never have existed.
Warm steam wrapped around the room, blurring the pale ceiling lights. Moist ceramic walls shimmered, reflecting moving silhouettes behind curtains of water. The sound of the showers formed a soft rhythm, as if this space were a small world belonging only to the five of them.
Felicia stood stiffly, water running along her loose black hair. Her pale skin glistened, her eyes narrowed sharply at Isabel. "Isabel…?" she asked, her voice flat but heavy with pressure.
Thivi, who had been cornered moments ago, sensed her chance. She stepped forward, soap foam still clinging to her golden skin. "That's right, Isabel," she said with a half-mocking tone. "You disappeared too when Kaivan went missing. So what really happened between you two?"
Surrounded by pressure from every side, Isabel felt her composure begin to crack. Warm water dripped from her pale pink hair, tracing the tense lines of her body. She forced herself to stay calm—too calm—while her thoughts raced wildly.
"How am I supposed to handle this? I can't just say, 'Yes, I slept with Kaivan.' If I confess, Felicia and Thivi will tear me apart…" she panicked inwardly.
But her face remained expressionless.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, then looked back at them all.
"I'm fine," she said quietly. "Back then, I… had typhoid fever. It was just bad timing."
Zinnia stepped out from behind the mist. Her damp purple hair clung to her shoulders, forming a soft silhouette under the dim light. "Are you sure?" she asked. "You look pale."
Isabel gave a small nod. "Just a little dizzy. Maybe the water's too warm."
Felicia watched her for a long moment, her sharp eyes tracing every tiny movement, searching for cracks in the lie. But before the tension could explode, Livia's innocent voice cut through the air.
"I'm curious," she said, sitting on the shower bench and swinging her legs. "Who does Brother Kaivan actually like among you? Maybe we can ask Tome Omnicent?"
The room fell silent. The steam thickened.
Then Thivi, sensing an escape, burst out laughing and pulled Livia into a tight hug. "You're a genius, Livia!"
Her tall body pressed against Livia's smaller frame.
"big sis! I can't breathe!" Livia protested, lightly punching Thivi's chest.
Zinnia and Felicia let out small chuckles. The atmosphere warmed for a moment.
But Isabel remained silent, her thoughts drifting far away.
"Tome Omnicent… of course. If I could read it by myself, I'd know who Kaivan would choose… even before he realized it himself."
Her eyes sharpened for a brief second before she lowered her gaze again.
The water from the shower washed away the tiny tears that slipped down, blending with the warm droplets on her skin.
Night wrapped the training facility in slow-falling snow, drifting from a gray, silent sky like countless fragments of light. A white layer thickened on the ground, muffling every step until even movement seemed to vanish. Only the whisper of wind and heavy breaths lingered in the frozen air.
An old bunker stood at the heart of the frozen forest, its metal walls reflecting the pale glow of a moon veiled by thin clouds. Outside, four men stood motionless in the biting cold.
Radit leaned against the steel wall, his back numb with frost. Smoke drifted from his dry lips, blending with the night mist. His eyes were tired, yet alert, fixed on the dark forest as if waiting for something to emerge from behind the curtain of snow.
"It's been a year already," he muttered hoarsely. "My body's breaking from all that training. I feel like a lab animal."
Frans sat on a wooden crate nearly buried in snow. His thick jacket failed to keep the cold away. Hugging his knees, he stared blankly into the distant darkness.