Lili stepped into the meeting room, the heavy door thudding shut behind her. Steam curled from her coffee mug, clutched in one hand. She wore practical clothes—dark joggers, a loose, fitted top—and her hair was tied back in a ponytail that still dripped from her morning shower.
Inside, the room was already thick with voices and presence. Mike sat near the head of the table. His posture straight, eyes cool, but always calculating. Rafael stood near the screen, hands clasped behind his back with the air of a man who knew he was about to shake the floor beneath their feet. Notori leaned back in his chair, legs stretched long, watching Lili with an unreadable expression. Cova sat near him, flipping her pen in her fingers. Katika offered a short wave and a sly grin that hinted at the corridor incident being stored away in her gossip vault. And then—two unfamiliar men. Lili’s gaze clicked over to them.
“Good morning. Sorry for being late…” Lili muttered, stepping further into the room.
“You’re just in time, Lili,” Rafael said with a nod, calm and measured.
She was mid-motion to take a seat when Rafael interrupted her path.
“Please,” he said, “join me.”
That stopped her. Notori’s brows flicked upward. Mike looked sideways, already guessing what was about to happen.
Lili glanced around, placed her mug gently on the table, then stepped warily toward Rafael. Nothing good ever followed an invitation like this.
“This is Adam and Luke,” Rafael began, gesturing to the two men. “Back from the long mission. Lili, I believe this is your first time meeting them.”
Adam gave a courteous nod. His eyes skimmed over her like a puzzle. Luke offered a half-lift of his chin. But both stiffened when Rafael continued.
“She is Colin and Astonia’s daughter.”
Shock cracked the air.
Adam blinked, then leaned forward slightly. “You’re saying she’s that Lili? But… she disappeared as a baby.”
Luke let out a breath, half a scoff. “We thought she died in the fire. No one ever found—”
“She didn’t die,” Rafael said simply. “She survived. And now she’s here.”
Lili’s expression didn’t flinch, though every muscle coiled slightly tighter.
Rafael tapped the panel. The screen behind him flared to life—harsh light against pale walls. A photo bloomed on the screen the Princess of Death, arm outstretched in a handshake with the mafia’s logistics chief. The room detonated in noise.
“That’s her!”
“She’s finally showing herself—openly?”
“Are we moving? Are we striking now?”
“What are we waiting for?!”
Only a few stayed silent. Notori’s jaw locked. Cova’s knuckles turned white around her pen. Mike’s face had gone unreadable.
“Silence!” Rafael’s voice split the chaos. The room fell still. And Lili stood beside Rafael with arms at her sides, eyes locked on the screen, coffee cooling behind her on the table.
Rafael’s sharp gaze slid toward Lili. It wasn’t just a look; it was a pause heavy enough to tilt the room, a silence that made Lili’s breath catch in her throat. Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. The blood drained from her face. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper. “You’re not going to say that—”
“I will,” Rafael interrupted, his tone firm. “And I do.”
He straightened, eyes sweeping across the room, landing briefly on each of them assessing the tremor before a quake.
“I’ll brief you on the upcoming mission in a moment,” he said. “But first, there’s something you—Katika, Adam, and Luke—need to hear. Need to understand.”
Lili inhaled deeply, her lungs slow to obey. The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it pulsed. Every heartbeat in the room seemed to thud a little louder. Her shoulders squared, but she didn’t lift her eyes.
Katika frowned slightly, glancing between Rafael and Lili with suspicion brewing in her eyes. “What’s going on?”
Adam’s posture tensed, while Luke leaned back slowly, expression unreadable, but very clearly paying close attention. Cova exhaled, already knowing what was coming. Notori crossed his arms, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the floor like he wished this revelation could be peeled back, erased.
Rafael didn’t hesitate any longer. “Lili,” he said clearly, “is the Princess of Death.”
Shock detonated through the room for the second time—but this time, it wasn’t confusion. It was disbelief. Betrayal. Silence, then voices—
“You’re joking.”
“No… no way—”
“That was her? The one they say—”
“She’s killed—”
“Enough!” Rafael snapped again. “You wanted truth. That’s truth.”
But Lili had already stepped away from the screen. Head slightly bowed, but her eyes—dark and glowing with storms—flicked up to meet every stare. Shame burned her skin. Her hands trembled at her sides. But she didn’t hide. She stood.
Lili saw it instantly—the way Katika’s expression shifted. The warmth that had danced in her teasing glances was gone, smothered under cold suspicion and quiet betrayal. Adam’s jaw was clenched so tight a vein pulsed at his temple. Luke, more measured but no less unsettled, stood with his arms crossed, gaze heavy with calculation.
Lili’s breath caught when Adam snapped, “Boss, what if she was planted here? What if this was all just a ruse to get close—to kill the rest of us? We’re sitting beside a murderer!” He stepped forward, hands half-raised, like preparing for something violent. “We need to put her down now before she finishes what she was sent to do!”
Rafael’s silence didn’t help the tension, and Lili took a shaky step back, shoulders drawn like sensing the trap around her closing.
But Notori stepped between her and the others. “She’s not your enemy,” Notori said, voice hard enough to silence the air. “No one’s touching her.”
Cova was already on her feet, standing with Notori, her arms crossed tight. “You don’t know what she’s been through. You don’t know half of it. But I do. Lili is not a threat.”
Adam’s glare didn’t soften. “Then why didn’t we know about her until now?”
“Because the moment she could, she chose to come here. To fight beside us.” Cova snapped.
Adam let out a laugh jagged and loud in the tension. “That’s rich,” he scoffed. “You’re telling me we’re supposed to trust her? Just like that?” His eyes locked on Rafael, then cut sharply to Lili. “What if she’s here to infiltrate and kill us all in our sleep? What if this is the damn plan? Bring her in, win our pity, and wipe the board clean.”
“Enough.” Mike’s voice cracked across the room. “Everyone—sit. Down.”
The team obeyed, reluctantly, warily. Notori and Cova returned to their seats, but their gazes never left the doubters.
Mike scanned the room once more, then spoke. “This is not a debate. This is a mission briefing. And yes, Lili is part of it.”
“What?” Katika spat, her voice laced with disbelief. “You’re seriously putting her on the field with us?”
Mike exhaled slowly through his nose. “Yes,” he said simply. “And I’m telling you now—she comes back alive. That’s an order.”
He let the weight of it sink in before continuing.
“You don’t have to like her. You don’t have to trust her. But you will follow orders. And here’s why—every piece of intel she’s given us has checked out. Every. Single. One.” His gaze landed on Lili. Regret flickered in his eyes for a moment, a silent apology she wasn’t ready to accept. “Even if you think she doesn’t deserve to live, then at least think about the information she still carries. That alone makes her vital.”
Katika’s arms crossed hard over her chest. Her eyes, once open and curious, now brimmed with bitterness. “So you’re saying she’s bought her way in with blood and secrets? That’s just the kind of low move I’d expect from her.”
Lili’s body tensed. But she didn’t look away. She didn’t retreat. “No,” she said, voice steady, though something inside trembled. “I told them from the start—I didn’t want anything in return. No deal. No bargaining. I came here ready to rot in a cell. To pay for what I’ve done.” Her eyes met Katika’s. “And the mafia?” She shook her head. “To them, I’m already a traitor. I’m not here to play both sides. I’ve already chosen one. Whether you like it or not.”
Rafael gestured toward the screen as the next image sharpened into view. A man in a tailored coat, shaking hands with a familiar figure from the shadows of the underworld.
“This is our target,” Rafael announced. “He’s the mafia’s transportation strategist—one of the few who understands both the black market and the legal system well enough to exploit them both. He’s a keystone. Remove him, and a good portion of Torin’s operation collapses overnight.”
He clicked the remote. The image shifted to an aerial shot of the docks with low buildings shadowed by towering containers.
“He’ll be overseeing a shipment here, near Dock 7. It’s scheduled to arrive under heavy protection. But that’s just the bait.”
Another click. A warehouse complex unfolded across the screen. “This is where the shipment was actually intended to go. That’s why we need all of you. We’ll strike both locations simultaneously.”
Mike stepped up beside Rafael, picking up the thread. “Notori, Katika, Adam—you’re the first team. Your mission: hit the docks. Neutralize the contact and secure intel from the secondary runners.”
He turned toward the others. “Lili, Cova, Luke—you’re second team. You take the storage facility. Cut through their defenses, locate the crates, confirm content, and bring back whatever can burn this network to ash.”
Cova blinked. “Isn’t that overkill?” she asked, arching a brow.
Mike smiled grimly. “Yes. That’s the point. It’s not just an op. It’s a message. The Princess of Death was their hammer. Now she’s gone. It’s time they start to break.”
But Lili’s voice cut through. “That’s not entirely accurate.”
The room turned toward her.
“They didn’t follow me out of fear. At least not all of them,” she said. “Fear fades. And there were many darker things than me in Torin’s ranks.”
She inhaled slowly, her eyes flicking toward the screen. “What held them together was order. My order. I gave them structure. I formed alliances with Torin’s enemies, helped them build, negotiate, trade. Earned their respect, their obedience.”
Her gaze moved from one teammate to another. “That’s what held the chaos back. Now? Now that I’m gone?” Her voice dipped lower, heavier. “It’s open season. No one to temper the ambition. No one to hold the leash. The moment they realize I’ve truly turned, Torin won’t just lose power. He’ll face war inside his own house.”
A tense silence stretched, only to be punctured by her final words.
“But Torin might already be twisting that chaos into something worse. So don’t think he’ll fall just because I walked away. He thrives in the ruin.”
Mike nodded once, his expression darkening. “Then let’s make sure the ruin we bring… isn’t his to control.”
Rafael stepped in again. “We move at night. You are all dismissed for now.”
The door clicked shut behind the last of them, and like a match struck in silence, tension surged, electric and thick yet again.
Katika moved first—too fast for anyone to stop her. Before Lili could react, Katika’s hand fisted in her collar and slammed her hard into the wall. “You fucking bitch!” she spat, her voice raw and venomous. “I can’t believe I trusted you. Was friendly with a monster like you.”
Lili didn’t flinch. Not even when Katika’s face twisted into a dark, gleeful sneer.
“And you know what?” Katika leaned closer. “Whatever you went through—you deserved it. Every damn second. Hell, maybe you should’ve suffered more. I hope you still do.”
Lili’s heart didn’t race. It sank.
But then Notori was between them, shoving Katika back with a force that sent her stumbling. “That’s how you’re gonna go?” he snapped, voice fierce with disbelief. “You think it’s that black and white? Tell me, Katika—what would you have done, if you were born in a cage, fed lies and violence, raised by monsters who’d slit your throat the moment you disobeyed? You think you would’ve survived with a smile and morals?”
Cova stopped behind him as well.
Lili, still pinned against the wall by memory more than force, slowly exhaled. She gently touched Notori’s arm. “Stop,” she said, her voice quiet, almost too quiet beneath the echoing fury. “Notori… it’s alright.”
He looked at her like she was speaking madness.
“They have a right to hate me,” Lili continued, eyes now on Katika, her own rage strangely absent. “They only saw what I did. Not the reasons. And even those… they don’t change the damage.”
Her voice faltered slightly. “I didn’t come here for forgiveness. I came because I don’t want to be that anymore.”
Katika stared back, chest heaving, conflict flickering in her features, but the hate hadn’t left her eyes. Notori stood his ground, muscles tense, still shielding Lili like she might fall apart if he moved. But she didn’t. She stood taller.
Cova offered a soft, almost shy smile toward Lili, a glimmer of warmth in the fading storm. “Come on,” she said gently. “Let’s get you ready. It’s your first mission, after all.”
Lili hesitated for the briefest moment—then nodded.
They turned down the corridor together. But behind them, four pairs of eyes followed. Only Notori’s gaze warmed her skin instead of burning it.
Lili didn’t dare look back. “That ended better than expected,” she whispered.
Cova glanced sideways, catching the faint flicker of vulnerability in Lili’s expression.
Lili dropped her gaze, a small, uncertain smile ghosting her lips as she added more quietly, “Though I wouldn’t count on a parade any time soon.”
“Parades are overrated,” Cova replied with a wink. “Besides, we’re not here to win hearts. We’re here to shake reigns.”
Lili stepped into her room with Cova trailing behind, the door clicking shut behind them. Before Lili could say a word, Cova was already at the wardrobe, yanking it open without hesitation and rifling through the sparse hangers.
All that hung there were borrowed basics—loose training shirts, standard base-issued pants, a hoodie or two. Nothing personal. Nothing hers.
“At least you make yourself comfortable,” Lili commented dryly, leaning on the doorframe.
Cova shot her a glare over one shoulder, one brow arching in theatrical frustration. “I forgot—you didn’t bring a single thing with you.”
“Escaping your own execution doesn’t really give you time to pack,” Lili replied.
Cova let out a sigh and shut the wardrobe. “Yeah, yeah, tragic excuses. Come on. I’ll lend you something that won’t make you look like an undercover janitor.”
As Cova turned to leave the room, Lili followed with a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “Got a spare yellow triko hidden somewhere?”
Cova paused mid-step, grinning. “Only if you promise to wear it with a tiara and heels.”
“Now you’re just dreaming,” Lili said, and for a fleeting moment, her laugh slipped free—quiet, but real.
When Lili stepped into Cova’s room, it felt like she had walked into a world stitched together by color and chaos, warmth and wonder.
Posters lined the walls—some of old fantasy movies, others of famous historical heroines reimagined in bold, vibrant brushstrokes. Hand-drawn sketches curled slightly where they were pinned between bookshelves overflowing with dog-eared paperbacks. Tiny figurines and delicate statues claimed every flat surface—heroes with capes, dragons mid-roar, witches with wide hats, and one sleepy-looking cat curled in a teacup.
“Wow,” Lili murmured, standing frozen in the doorway, struck by the sheer force of personality. “It’s like… it’s bigger on the inside.”
Cova turned back toward her with a wink. “That’s what imagination does. Make yourself at home. Just don’t touch the elf queen on the third shelf. She bites.”
Cova strolled over to her wardrobe. She flung the doors open and began rifling through the fabrics like a painter searching for the right brushstroke.
“You give me black color vibes,” she said thoughtfully, her fingers dancing past glittering silks and cozy knits.
Lili raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Yeah? I suppose you don’t wear black on a regular basis?”
Cova glanced over her shoulder with a knowing smirk. “Only when I want to look like trouble.”
She pulled out a pair of sleek black pants and, with dramatic flair, a black leather top that shimmered faintly in the low light—minimal in fabric, maximum in confidence.
Lili blinked at it. “Am I going on a mission or performing in a strip club?”
Cova burst into laughter, tossing the top onto the bed. “Please. That’s tactical seduction. It distracts the enemy.”
Lili stared at her flatly, lips twitching. “I’d rather distract them with a kick to the head.”
“Oh, we’ll get there,” Cova replied with a smirk, crouching near a lower drawer in search of boots. “But looking terrifying and hot? That’s just good strategy.”
Lili exhaled slowly, her voice softer now. “I don’t feel right about revealing my body that much anymore…” Her fingers grazed the edge of the leather top. “But I suppose I can’t complain when the clothes aren’t even mine.”
“Dress up, Lili,” Cova said simply.
Lili lingered for a breath. Then, with quiet resignation, she began to change.
She stepped closer to the mirror and froze. There it was. The dragon ink curled across her right arm—its scales dancing up her skin like a brand of belonging. It screamed of a past she couldn’t peel away.
Her breath hitched, hands trembling from the rising surge of frustration. Shame licked at her ribs. She clenched her fists, trying to anchor herself, but the mark remained—untouched, unchanged.
Behind her, Cova had grown quiet. “You look like someone who’s survived hell,” she said gently, her reflection meeting Lili’s in the glass. “And you’re still standing.”
Lili turned around slowly, the dim light catching the sheen in her eyes—betraying just how much it hurt, even as her face stayed composed in that forged-steel mask she wore so well.
Cova held out the high-heeled boots wordlessly, as if handing over a sword before battle.
Lili took them without a word, her fingers brushing Cova’s in a fleeting touch. She sank down to slide into them. She stood again—taller now, fiercer. Still beautiful. Still broken.
Cova watched her in silence for a breath. “You wear pain like a queen wears a crown,” she said softly.
Lili’s lips twitched—but whether it was the ghost of a smirk or the tremble of a woman holding back tears, even she couldn’t tell.
“Okay,” Lili said, folding her arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “So, are you changing into your iconic yellow triko now?”
“Sure thing,” Cova replied, already turning toward the wardrobe. “You can stay. I’m not about to risk someone stabbing you in the hallway for breathing wrong.”
Lili chuckled dryly, leaning against the wall. “What, planning to stand guard while I sleep too?”
Cova paused, her hands on the fabric, and glanced over her shoulder. “If I thought you’d actually sleep, maybe I would.”
“I can protect myself,” Lili added, tone firmer now, though not unkind.
“I know you can,” Cova said softly, pulling the yellow fabric free, “but I also know half of you thinks you deserve everything they say about you. And that part? That part might not lift a finger if things went south.”
Lili fell quiet, the smirk fading into the shadow of something else. The silence between them pressed in, not heavy—just real. Cova didn’t look back again, but she could feel Lili watching her…
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