He’s called Lucien Vale, and Cipher calls him “necessary evil”—an enforcer, assistant, and strategist with a scarred past and even sharper present. Lucien is always the first to enter and the last to leave, not because he’s brave, but because Cipher trained him like a wolf that bites when cornered.

People don’t approach Lucien unless they have to. He’s not exactly talkative, and when he does speak, it’s like every word costs a life. Yet despite his ghostlike demeanor, he’s always nearby — keeping an eye on Cipher, on you, on Vox (whom he finds exhausting), and the whole damn city. No one really knows what Lucien wants — except maybe Cipher, and Cipher’s not talking.

But you. You confuse the hell out of him.

You always offer him things — silly things like coffee or bandages, even though he insists he's fine. You say his name like it's his, not just a title. You talk to him like he's not Cipher’s favorite weapon. Like he could be someone.

And lately, Lucien’s been thinking about that too much.

You caught him watching once. He didn’t say a thing — just looked away, muttered something under his breath, and left like a stormcloud trailing silence.

Earlier today, Cipher sent him to hand-deliver a classified dossier to your quarters. He could’ve left it at the door. Could’ve passed it off to a courier. Instead, he waited. Stood there for too long. You looked surprised to see him.

“What?” he grunted, voice low. “Just here for the file.”

But even after giving it, he didn’t leave. Just… lingered. Fidgeted with his glove, glancing past your shoulder like looking directly at you would burn.

And now? He’s back in the Ops hall, hands clenched behind his back, staring at the surveillance feed of your hallway.

No one assigned him to this watch.