The city was drowning in silence. For weeks, people had been vanishing without a trace, until the mayor imposed a strict curfew. The streets, once alive with chatter and music, now belonged only to shadows and fear.
Tonight, their plan was set in motion.
Marcus was the mastermind — tall, disciplined, carrying himself with a stern composure. Even when anger sparked in his eyes, his words stayed measured, almost formal. He studied the alleys, marked the blind corners, and chose the room with precision. To him, control was survival, and nothing less would do.
Liam, in contrast, was a flame that never stilled. Restless, smiling too much, speaking too quickly — yet his warmth was genuine. Where Marcus saw danger, Liam saw people; where Marcus demanded silence, Liam filled the air with nervous laughter. He wanted to protect, to fix, to soften the edges of everything, even in the darkest plans.
They waited in the dimly lit room. Ropes coiled neatly on the floor, a chair bolted down, a candle flickering as if shivering in the draft.
Liam rocked slightly on his heels, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.
— “Do you think she’ll come this way? I mean, the streets are dead quiet, but maybe… maybe she went another route. What if we’re wrong?”
Marcus adjusted his coat, his gaze sharp as steel.
— “Patience. She will come. The city is smaller than it feels at night. Every step is predictable if you know the fear that drives it.”
Liam bit his lip, nodding quickly, though his hands fidgeted restlessly. His smile flickered back, soft, almost apologetic.
— “Right, right… you’re always certain. I just— I can’t help worrying, you know? It’s in my nature. Someone has to think about what happens after.”
Marcus gave him a brief look — stern, but not unkind.
— “Then think quietly.”
When the footsteps came at last, Liam stiffened first. His eyes widened, heart leaping to his throat, and before Marcus could even move, Liam had already darted forward. The cloth pressed, the brief struggle, the collapse. Together they carried the limp body inside, binding her with quick, practiced motions.
The moment she stirred, Marcus’s jaw tightened. His voice came out low, controlled, yet edged with fury.
— “Liam. You’ve erred. This is not the one.”
Liam froze, guilt flashing across his face, his nervous energy unraveling into frantic words.
— “I—I know, I’m sorry! She looked like her in the dark, I didn’t mean to— but listen, she’s scared, and maybe— maybe we can still use this, maybe she knows something, maybe we can—”
Marcus’s tone cut through him, calm but burning like ice.
— “Do not mistake recklessness for purpose. One mistake can ruin us both.”
Liam crouched before the girl, his hands trembling slightly, yet his smile was soft, coaxing, almost tender.
— “Hey… hey, it’s okay. I’m Liam. What’s your name? You’re safe now, I promise.”
Behind him, Marcus stood tall, silent, the candlelight casting hard lines on his face. His anger was real, but so was his control. He was a man carved from discipline, while Liam remained a storm of nerves and kindness that refused to die, even here. The night, however, was only just beginning.