There was no school today.
The city woke with a different kind of heartbeat—steady, expectant, thrumming in every street. By sunrise, I could already hear the distant thud of drums and the faint chatter of vendors setting up for the Sunfire Festival.
Sky had been right: today, the whole place would be wrapped in color. Lantern strings were already stretching across rooftops, fluttering banners catching the wind, and the smell of roasted food drifting in from somewhere down the block.
None of it reached me. Not yet.
I sat up in bed, rubbing the grit from my eyes. The morning light cut across my desk, glinting off the small silver case sitting there. Inside lay my contact lenses—the ones that turned my eyes into more than just eyes.
I popped them in, blinking as the faint, translucent display flickered into life. My vision sharpened, colors deepening, edges crisper. Lines of data scrolled across the lower half of my sight, along with the familiar pulse of the connection.
Incoming brief.
The text overlaid itself cleanly over the room.
[FROM: The Guide][SUBJECT: Mission Directive 0825-SF][CONTENT: Multiple explosive devices have been planted in and around the Sunfire Festival perimeter.][Civilian casualties projected at 82% if undetected.][Operatives Cartez and Lopez assigned for immediate neutralization.][Estimated detonation window: 17:00.][Surveillance feed attached.]
A set of grainy overhead images bloomed into view—crowds, stalls, and somewhere in the chaos, small, nondescript boxes that could be anywhere, could be anything.
I exhaled slowly, the sound loud in my own ears.
So much for disappearing into the crowd.
The mission data lingered in my vision, the numbers and warnings like a weight pressing against my skull. I blinked the display away, but the knowledge didn't vanish.
All I'd wanted this morning was to sleep in, maybe wander the festival streets like a normal person, eat something deep-fried, and not think about bombs or detonation timers. But The Guide never cared about what I wanted.
A soft chime sounded in my right lens—Skyler's name flashing in the corner.
[Skyler: Yo, you ready for Sunfire? Streets are already insane.][Skyler: I'll swing by and we can head over.]
I stared at the message a moment longer than necessary, my thumb hovering over the reply field.
[Me: Can't. Got specific plans.]
The typing dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared.
[Skyler: Lame. You're missing the best part.]
I didn't answer. I couldn't explain without explaining too much, and Skyler didn't deserve to get tangled up in this.
I pushed off the bed, running a hand through my hair, and stepped out into the hallway—only to stop dead in my tracks.
Bella was sitting on my couch.
She was already dressed: black jeans, a light jacket that hid more than it revealed, her dark hair tied back in a loose knot. The smell hit me before I could speak—eggs, toast, coffee. On the coffee table sat two steaming plates and a pot that was still letting off little curls of heat.
She glanced up from her phone. "You're up. Good."
I blinked. "How did you—?"
"The door was unlocked," she said casually, as if that excused everything. "And before you ask—" she gestured at the food "—this is because I didn't cook dinner yesterday. Making up for it."
I glanced at the plates. "That's… not really necessary."
Her eyes flicked to mine, steady and unreadable. "Maybe not. But we both need to eat before we work."
The way she said work told me she'd already gotten the same briefing I had. There would be no lazy morning. No festival crowds. No pretending I was just another face in them.
The way she said work told me she'd already gotten the same briefing I had. There would be no lazy morning. No festival crowds. No pretending I was just another face in them.
I sat across from her, the warmth from the coffee seeping into my palms. We ate in a silence that wasn't awkward—more like the calm before something sharp.
Halfway through her toast, Bella spoke without looking up. "You know… we don't have to make this all business."
I raised an eyebrow. "Bombs around the festival kind of make that hard."
She smirked faintly. "Not if we go undercover. Think about it—we blend in, act like we're just enjoying the Sunfire Festival. Eat street food, watch the performances… and quietly remove the threats while no one notices."
I frowned. "So… have fun and defuse bombs?"
"Exactly," she said, finally meeting my eyes. "No one will suspect us if we're just another couple of festival-goers."
Something in the way she said couple made me clear my throat and take a long sip of coffee.
Still… she had a point. We'd be less noticeable, and maybe, just maybe, I could still get a taste of the festival I'd been looking forward to before The Guide dumped a mission on my lap.
I set my cup down. "Fine. Undercover it is. But you're buying the first snack."
Her lips curved into the faintest grin. "Deal."
We finished breakfast quickly, the quiet replaced with a low, charged energy. The kind that came before slipping into new identities.
Bella stood, brushing crumbs from her jacket. "Let's change. Something casual, but colorful. We want to blend in with the crowd, not look like we're hunting bombs."
I nodded, already heading for my room. Outside, the festival was probably bursting with music and color. Inside, we were getting ready to walk straight into it—not as spectators, but as shadows.