Notori exhaled a faint curl of smoke from his fingers. Around him, the scorched remains of the ambush glowed faintly red. Adam hovered the last weapon out of a fallen hand with telekinesis. It floated mid-air before dropping into a containment bag.
“All clear,” Adam muttered, brushing dust from his jacket. “Clean job.”
Notori nodded silently.
Then their earpieces cracked and Mike’s raw voice followed.
“Failed assassination attempt on Rafael. Return immediately after the mission.”
Notori’s jaw clenched. A slow, ominous dread crawled its way into his veins. He turned to Adam, and in his eyes, the same thought was reflected back.
“Mike never cuts in unless it’s bad,” Adam said, the telekinetic field around him faltering for a second. “Really bad.”
Notori didn’t speak at first. His fingers lit faintly with restless fire.
“Could’ve been Luke,” Adam offered, uncertain. “He was in base. Or Lili. Cova’s still in the med bay, so—”
“Don’t,” Notori cut in. “Don’t start guessing.”
But the ember was already flaring in his chest.
He didn’t want to give the fear shape because he knew that tone in Mike’s voice. The last time it cracked like that, they lost one of them.
“We’re leaving,” Notori said, already turning around.
“Mission protocol—” Adam started, but his own voice faltered.
“Screw protocol,” Notori said flatly. “Something’s wrong.”
Adam didn’t argue again.
When Notori and Adam finally stepped out of the vehicle, the first thing they noticed was the flood of soldiers stationed across the base.
And then—off to the side—
A body bag.
Notori’s breath hitched in his throat. His heart leapt to panic before logic could restrain it. Lukas? Lili? Cova?
Katika approached them. Her face was pale, lips drawn tight.
“I was on the mission too…” she began, her voice soft, distant. Her eyes lifted to meet Notori’s and faltered.
Notori shook his head: “No. Don’t.”
But she opened her mouth anyway, words gathering at the edge. He didn’t wait to hear them.
Notori was already moving. The fire in him flickered wildly. He pushed past the rising voices.
Adam called after him, but Notori didn’t look back.
He burst into the medical wing. It took a heartbeat—maybe two—for Notori’s eyes to adjust, to see through the sterile brightness of the corridor and make sense of the shapes waiting in the silence.
Colin and Astonia stood there cracked by grief and they were failing at hiding it. Astonia’s hands were clenched into trembling fists, and Colin’s jaw was locked so tightly it seemed his own teeth might shatter.
Notori’s breath caught. His boots scuffed against the floor as he moved quickly toward them.
“How… how is Lili?” he asked. The words were hoarse and raw.
Astonia’s glassy eyes lifted to meet his. “We don’t know yet…” she whispered, and her voice cracked with helplessness. Tears followed a breath later. “They’re still trying…”
Colin turned away slightly, as if ashamed that someone had seen him like this. He ran a hand down his face, but it couldn’t wipe away the torment.
Notori took a step back, swallowing the lump rising in his throat. His fists trembled at his sides. Not knowing was the cruelest part.
“She saved Rafael,” Colin said quietly, almost to himself, his voice both proud and broken. “Stepped in without thinking… Took the full force.”
Notori closed his eyes. His hands curled tighter. “I should’ve been there,” he said, barely audible.
Astonia reached out, gently resting a hand on his arm. “She’d have done it even if you were. That’s who she is. That’s our daughter.”
And somehow, that truth made it all worse because he knew she would.
Hours dragged when Mike and Rafael approached from the far end of the corridor. Their faces were drawn, strained with sleeplessness and guilt. Mike’s jaw was tight, expression unreadable as always, but his eyes betrayed it: the tension, the worry, the unspoken fear.
Rafael looked haunted. His uniform was still smudged with the dust of the battlefield, and his movements were stiff, uncertain. He stopped in front of Astonia and Colin, his gaze flickering briefly to Notori, then dropping to the floor.
“I’m sorry…” Rafael said, his voice low, hoarse like he’d repeated the words in his head a hundred times before saying them aloud. “I should have stayed back. I should’ve seen it coming. If I hadn’t—”
“You weren’t the one who attacked her,” Mike interrupted, placing a hand on Rafael’s shoulder.
“No,” Rafael admitted, eyes shining with something dangerously close to tears, “but I was the target.” He looked toward the sealed medical doors as if he could see through them.
Finally, the doors groaned open.
Margherita stepped out, her once-white coat stained crimson, gloves pulled halfway off, face pale and gleaming with sweat. Strands of hair clung to her cheeks, and the hollows beneath her eyes told of hours between life and death.
She looked up, meeting every gaze. “We did everything we could,” Margherita began, her voice steady but worn thin. “The damage was extensive, but we managed to stabilize her.”
Notori’s knees nearly buckled. Astonia covered her mouth with trembling fingers.
“She lost a lot of blood. One of the shadow-infused fragments embedded itself dangerously close to her spine. We removed it, but… it will take time. Her Gift helped hold her together longer than most could endure.” Margherita paused. “We’ll need to monitor her constantly. Just to be sure she’s out of immediate danger.”
Astonia let out a sound that was part gasp, part sob, muffled against Colin’s chest as he instinctively wrapped an arm around her.
“Can we see her?” Notori asked, his voice barely holding together.
Margherita’s eyes flicked to him, and for a moment, sympathy softened the lines of fatigue on her face. “For now,” she said gently, “I can only allow Colin and Astonia in.”
Notori’s jaw clenched, but he gave a shaky nod, swallowing the protest rising in his chest. Margherita’s gaze lingered on him a bit longer.
“Her vitals are still unstable. The fewer people, the less risk.” She added softly.
Behind her, the door remained closed, and Notori stared at it like it held the last light in the world.
“I’ll update you the moment it’s safe for more visitors. I promise.”
Colin stepped forward silently, one arm still around Astonia as they prepared to enter, both of them worn thin but unwilling to crumble now.
The heavy door sighed shut behind them, sealing Lili away in a cocoon of sterile silence and flickering monitors.
***
When Cova finally blinked her way into consciousness, the world returned in fragments—ceiling lights humming low, the distant rhythm of footsteps in sterile halls, and beside her, the slumped silhouette of Katika perched on a chair.
“Hey,” Katika said softly, lifting her head and offering a tired smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s nice to finally see you fully back.”
Cova winced faintly as she adjusted on the bed. “Well, it was one hell of a hit I took. Damn that motherfucker… I couldn’t even activate my powers before the car flipped.”
Katika’s smile grew a touch warmer, even if the weight in her gaze remained. “I’m just glad Lili was with you.”
“Yeah…” Cova murmured, her eyes wandering toward the window where pale light barely fought through the glass. “Me too. We thought it’d just be a normal day. Shopping…” She exhaled. “And instead… this.” She glanced around, taking in the stillness of the medical room. “What happened after?” Cova finally asked, her voice dropping low with a tension that cracked beneath the surface.
Katika’s smile lifted, but it was hollow, a shape without weight. “Rafael gave her the badge.”
“She accepted?” Cova blinked, startled.
Katika nodded, her expression softening with something close to respect. “Yeah. I went on a mission with her. When things went sideways, she was the only one fast enough to stop what could’ve been a disaster.”
Cova stared. “How long was I out?”
“About two weeks,” Katika said. “But so much happened, it felt like months.”
Cova gave a small, breathy laugh. “You tell me.” Then her gaze sharpened, teasing but laced with something real. “You’re the one who told me to stay away from Lili. And now look at you.”
Katika gave a slow nod, accepting the weight of her own words. “Yeah. You were right about her from the start. She’s… unpredictable. But she proved herself more than I ever imagined she would.”
Cova laid her head back against the pillow, eyes thoughtful now. “She always had it in her. People just didn’t look close enough.”
Katika glanced at her. “And you did?”
“I think she needed someone who saw more than what was broken,” Cova murmured.
The door creaked open with a hesitant groan.
Cova turned her head just slightly. Notori stood there with rumpled clothes, shoulders weighed down by something heavier than fatigue. His gaze was unfocused, as if he’d walked into the room without meaning to, pulled by something instinctual, something unresolved.
“Notori?” Cova blinked. “Hey.”
His eyes finally found her and in that moment, something in his expression cracked. The dullness in them flickered, a small flame ignited not by joy, but by a kind of aching relief.
“You’re awake.” His voice was dry and rough.
“I am,” she replied, managing a half-smile. “Still in one piece, mostly. Can’t say the same for my dignity.”
He let out a tired breath, the hint of a laugh slipping free, and stepped further into the room. He didn’t rush to her bedside, didn’t speak more than he had to. Just looked at her as if confirming with his own eyes that she was truly here, still breathing.
Cova narrowed her eyes slightly. “You look like hell.”
“Feel worse,” Notori admitted, sinking slowly into the chair beside her bed. “Didn’t mean to end up here. Just… couldn’t go anywhere else.”
Cova studied him. She noticed the way his fingers twitched at his sides.
“What happened?” she asked. “Katika mentioned Lili got her badge. Said they both went on a mission.”
Notori exhaled through a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, then turned to glance at Katika.
“Oh, we were a badass team,” Katika jumped in with a flicker of warmth, forcing a grin that tried to lighten the room. “Kicked ass, cleared the target, handled it like pros.”
Cova chuckled, the sound weak but genuine. “You, saying something nice about Lili? Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.”
“Hey,” Katika protested, placing a hand on her chest with mock offense, “I give credit where it’s due.”
Notori’s smile faltered, just slightly, and Cova caught it.
“Didn’t hesitate?” she repeated, her tone shifting.
“Yeah,” Katika added, eyes softening. “She acted like she’s been part of the team forever. Like the badge was hers all along.”
Notori leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor. “She never waits for someone else to take the hit,” he said quietly. “That’s just who she is.”
Cova looked between them, her heart sinking beneath the banter. “Something happened after, didn’t it?”
Neither answered right away.
Notori’s silence said enough. But then he nodded—barely. “Yeah,” he said at last. “Something did.” Notori sat a moment longer. “Cova, rest.”
His eyes met hers—soft, apologetic, but with something locked behind them. He turned toward Katika, and though his words weren’t for her, his glance was.
Katika’s playful smile wilted a little, then she nodded with a soft sigh. “We’ll check in later,” she murmured to Cova, tucking the blanket a little higher on her chest. “Focus on getting stronger.”
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