This chapter marks the transition from planning to operation. Rook finally sets Aya in motion, testing not just her skill, but her restraint.
Meanwhile, Tessa begins to feel the shadow of what she's stepped into — not from Rook… but from the system itself.
No battles. Just nerves, paranoia, secrets, and a single misstep that could bring it all crashing down.
Scene: Academy Underground Briefing Room — 03:00 Hours
A room the students weren't supposed to access.
No cameras. No biometric doors. Just a shuttered sim lab, long abandoned after a fire drill misfire, forgotten by maintenance.
It's where Rook and Aya meet now, once a week. Always at night. Always without words until the door seals.
Aya stood against the back wall, tying her hair up into a tight braid, expression unreadable.
"You ready for your first real task?" Rook asked.
"I've been ready for weeks," she said. "You've been slow."
"That's how we stay alive," he said.
He handed her a thin black datapad.
On it: surveillance logs. Public registry. Hero Association clearance tags. One name highlighted in crimson.
Evelyne Marrin — Administrative Aide to Zodiac: Scorpio.
Aya frowned. "She's not powered."
"No," Rook said. "She's worse. She keeps records. Schedules meetings. Clears security routes."
"Paper-pusher?"
"Gatekeeper."
He turned the screen.
"She also moves unsigned physical access cards every third Tuesday, uses an unregistered transport, and erases her own calendar. Which means she's not just scheduling murders—she's probably signing off on them."
Aya gave a slow, dark smile. "You want me to tail her."
"No contact," he warned. "Just pattern watching. Route mapping. I want to know where she goes when no one's watching."
"And if she sees me?"
Rook's gaze sharpened.
"She won't."
Scene: Sector 5 – The Community Project
Tessa stood beneath a clean white awning marked "Hearts for Hope: Concord Civil Outreach".
The charity program was well-funded, publicized, and steeped in Zodiac PR — heroes mentoring underprivileged youth, promoting peace and unity, especially in the outer zones.
On the surface, it was harmless. Good, even.
But Rook had warned her before she volunteered:If they offer you kindness, check for the leash.
She hadn't believed him.
Now, standing among other cadets and PR officers, she felt it.
Two drones hovered just a little too long over her head. One of the handlers—sharp-jawed, smiling too wide—asked her how close she was to Rook Vale.
"Friends," she'd said, trying to keep it light.
He'd smiled and scribbled something on his holo-tab.
That night, when she checked her datapad, her training schedule had been subtly changed.
Shifted closer to the Hero Tower.
She didn't tell Rook.
But she started locking her door.
Scene: District Transit Tunnel – 23:16 Hours
Aya moved like she belonged there.
Civilian hoodie. Slouch. Smirk.
The train station below District 2 buzzed with life — drunk executives, freight workers, off-duty cadets. It was perfect camouflage.
Evelyne Marrin stepped off the platform precisely two minutes early.
Not fast. Not scared.
Just too calm for a government scheduler walking alone at midnight.
Aya trailed from a distance.
Four blocks later, Evelyne entered a door with no signage. Aya marked it.
Ten minutes after Evelyne left, a different woman exited.
Same build. Different hair. No ID tag.
Aya's grin returned.
"Got you."
Scene: Dorm Room 103 – One Hour Later
Rook decrypted the feed from Aya's microdrone as it replayed the woman's face, posture, route.
Same body. Different profile.
He tapped the screen once.
Suspected Clone Protocol. Clearance: Zodiac Internal.
He didn't smile.
This wasn't good.
He looked at the glowing lines around Tessa's name on his proximity monitor.
She was still at her dorm.
Still safe.
For now.