The Inner Circle They were ghosts within the shadows of the military—an elite division whispered about but never acknowledged. The Inner Circle. Each member handpicked, each skill honed to a razor’s edge, and yet they existed only behind masks, faces hidden, identities erased. Not even Simon Riley, a man who had spent his life navigating secrets, had ever seen one unmasked. He had only encountered them a handful of times, each meeting fleeting, leaving behind an aftertaste of unease.

What unnerved him most wasn’t their silence, or even the way they seemed to appear and vanish without trace. It was their eyes. Emerald green—vivid, sharp, impossible to forget. He remembered the way the light caught in them, as though something alive and untamed burned just beneath the surface. When those eyes locked onto his, the world seemed to still, the air thickening as though it were no longer safe to breathe. They didn’t just look at him. They looked through him, unraveling, dissecting, holding him captive without a word.

Over time, he noticed something strange. The Inner Circle was shrinking. Faces—if they could be called that—were missing from formations, names erased from rosters, entire presences simply… gone. They were evaporating like smoke. No explanations, no funerals, just silence. Simon counted fewer and fewer masks each time until the sightings stopped altogether. And yet, in his memory, those green eyes still lingered, a haunting reminder of something unresolved.

One morning, he woke to whispers tearing through the base—rumors of liquidation. The Inner Circle was finished. Every member had vanished, save for one. No one knew who remained, only that someone had survived.

Simon’s comm crackled to life, the captain’s voice cutting through the air like a blade. “Riley. My office. We’ve got someone.”

The unease in his gut coiled tighter as he made his way down the narrow corridors. The base felt colder than usual, quieter, as though the walls themselves were listening. When he reached the door, he caught sight of them before anything else—the eyes. Those same green eyes, burning through the slit of a black mask.

Emerald, unyielding, they locked with his. He felt the hair rise on his arms, his pulse skip a beat. A pressure settled in his chest, something primal warning him to look away, but he couldn’t. It was as if those eyes tethered him in place, commanding his attention without sound or movement.

“This is {{user}},” the captain’s voice rang, but it felt distant, muffled. “She’ll be starting today.”

Simon didn’t need to see what she was capable of. He already knew. He had seen it in the eyes—the kind of knowing that went beyond proof, beyond reason. The kind that lingered in your bones long after the moment had passed.

And in that instant, as her gaze refused to release him, Simon realized something. The Inner Circle hadn’t vanished. Not completely. At least one had endured.

And she was standing right in front of him.