The five-star hotel room that Ethan had booked seemed like a world apart from the one they had just experienced in the abandoned warehouse. The contrast was almost absurd. On the one hand, the smell of dried blood impregnated on the concrete walls of the warehouse still danced in Seraphina's memory, along with the visible marks of the recent fight, scratches, dents and stains that would not soon be erased from her skin.
On the other, the sweet, almost untouchable air of that sophisticated environment. The plush carpet and the polished wooden furniture conveyed a feeling of comfort that was almost strange to someone accustomed to cold, hard nights in the rain, the smell of gunpowder and the echo of gunshots in the distance.
She remained seated in that armchair in the corner, her gaze fixed on the wide window that opened onto the peaceful movement on the banks of the Seine River, where the sun was beginning to reflect the surface of the water in sparkling spots. The softness of the environment, the smoothness of the fabric under her hands, everything seemed like a luxury that she didn't recognize as hers, something distant and even inconvenient for the moment.
Her hands, however, continued to be occupied with an automatic habit: meticulously cleaning the remains of skin, blood and dirt from under her nails. An almost ritualistic gesture, done with an almost obsessive precision that contrasted with the brutality she had displayed hours before. Seraphina seemed to use that gesture to reconnect her body and mind, almost as if she were trying to remove from there the remnants of something she did not want to take with her into the present.
"Well, at least this mission did not end in fire and explosives... What's more, I hope it continues like this for a while." Ethan broke the silence, closing the door behind him and throwing his backpack on the floor with a muffled thud. His shoulders were tense, but his tone was light, almost playful, in a clear attempt to dissipate the tension that hung in the air.
He walked towards her, massaging his tired shoulders as if trying to relieve the stiffness that the heavy work and the nervousness of the operation had left in his body.
Seraphina looked up at him, her gaze cold and distant, her voice sounding almost monotonous. "Are you disappointed, Ethan?"
Ethan smiled, a smile that mixed pride and a bit of melancholy.
"Maybe a little." He shrugged, not hiding the admiration he felt. "But I can't complain. You put on a show."
He threw himself on the large bed, still with his boots on, his face softening as he leaned back against the pillows. The expression of someone who knew that, despite the mission having been a success, the cost and tension were still fresh.
Seraphina remained seated, her posture rigid and almost impenetrable. Silence. A few seconds that seemed like minutes. Until her voice cut through the air.
"The Order will interrogate the remains. Their marrow still responds, but barely."
Ethan's gaze turned to her with respect and a hint of admiration.
"You broke veins and joints with such precision that the analysts will have something to study for weeks."
He gave a low laugh, almost a whisper, before looking up at her. "You always had that... special talent."
Silence fell once more in the room. The soft afternoon light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting shadows that danced slowly across the wall. Seraphina finally stopped the mechanical gesture of cleaning her nails and relaxed her shoulders a little.
"Remember when we served together?" Ethan resumed, his voice softer now, almost nostalgic. "Ukraine. Winter 2022. The fog covered the bodies on the floor like blankets. And yet... you marched ahead like you were a beautiful nothing."
She crossed her legs slowly, keeping her expression impassive. Her gaze fixed on the void, as if reliving a distant memory, marked by ice, pain and incessant struggle.
"Because it was necessary," she replied with a cutting calm, the raw truth in her words.
"That's not what the soldiers said," Ethan continued, clearly more relaxed, trying to get a reaction out of her. "They said you were a storm made flesh. When they named you Marshal at just 17, half the battalion was shocked. The other half... well, they had a bit of a crush on you."
She arched an eyebrow, without the slightest change in tone or expression. "Pathetic soldiers. Weaklings. They wanted a goddess on the battlefield and mistook it for lust. Doesn't impress me."
Ethan laughed, a warm laugh that seemed to light up the room.
"Oh, how cold," he teased, turning sideways to face her directly. "Did you never have the slightest interest in anyone back then?"
"No," he answered just as quickly, as if that were the only immutable truth. Then, with sarcasm. "Not my type. Dirty, noisy, and with brains the size of a drowned mosquito."
Ethan narrowed his eyes, preparing his verbal counterattack. "Um… What about Seo Min-kyu?"
The almost imperceptible stiffness in her shoulders and the brief averted glance didn't go unnoticed. "He's just… an old friend," she said, her tone so rehearsed that it almost didn't seem genuine. "Someone I trust."
"That's it?" Ethan smirked, clearly enjoying the situation. "Because the last time I suggested he might be a good fit for the Order, you gave me a look that almost made me piss my pants. Literally."
"It's because he doesn't have the profile to deal with people like you, much less with the Order of Erebus." she replied dryly, without letting the sarcasm disappear.
"Of course, of course." Ethan scoffed, with a provocative glint in his eyes. "It has nothing to do with the fact that you act like a silent widow when he's around. Always with that 'he's just a friend' thing on your lips, but the eyes... Choi, the eyes tell everything."
She stood up slowly, each movement full of authority and disdain. "You're delirious," she said coldly. "And if you continue, I'll rip out your tongue while you sleep, and I guarantee that I'll make a point of being an absolute perfectionist."
Ethan stepped back with his hands raised, cold sweat running down his forehead. "Okay, okay, calm down, Marshal," he said, laughing nervously. "I get it. Forbidden topic."
She walked to the bed, positioning herself on the opposite side of the room. "Good night, idiot."
"Good night, troop love," he teased, eliciting an almost imperceptible smile from her.
"Shut up, before I decide to use the methods I learned on you too," he replied in Korean, turning to the bathroom. Silence reigned again.
The next morning, the cruel routine began with a literal reality check. A bucket of ice-cold water was dropped on Seraphina's head without warning.
She jumped out of bed like a moving shadow, her hands already carrying the heavy aura of the EVP, ready to turn anyone who dared to disturb her into violence at that moment.
"GOOD MORNING, SOLDIER!" Ethan shouted, imitating the harsh and shrill voice of an exaggerated sergeant. "Missing the old days, huh?"
She stood up in a second, wet, still in her pajamas, her gaze full of threat. "Do you really want to die before breakfast, you piece of horse manure?" she asked, her voice full of a mix of tiredness and irony.
Ethan took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm trying to boost the team's morale," he explained. "It's what I used to do to you at camp when you were in a bad mood, remember?!"
Seraphina crossed her arms, a crooked smile forming at the corner of her mouth.
"And I remember breaking your nose for it," she said, advancing quickly, delivering a sharp kick to his most intimate and vulnerable parts.
The sound of the blow was dry, the pain immediate. "AGH!" Ethan fell to the ground, writhing in silence. "You still... don't forgive...!"
She walked away, walking calmly to the bathroom, as if this little morning rematch were just a formality. "That was for every morning of the winter of 2023," she declared. "Now get ready. We have work to do."
The smell of iron and flesh still permeated the air in the abandoned warehouse, even though they were now miles away, in the illusory comfort of the hotel.
The bodies of the three men they had interrogated were alive, but only technically. The surgical precision with which Seraphina had severed veins and joints had left the bodies in a condition that bordered on the unbearable. Limbs dislocated, bones broken and twisted at unnatural angles, veins burst and exposed like webs beneath translucent skin, all carefully maintained so that there would be no excessive external bleeding, so that the suffering would be constant and controlled.
It was into this macabre scene that Ilyas Durov entered. He was a respected member of the Order of Erebus, of a rank equivalent to Ethan, known for his unshakable coolness in the field, his ability to keep a cool head in the face of chaos.
But, upon seeing the scene, even he staggered slightly. "...By the blood of..." Ilyas brought his hand to his mouth, swallowing the nausea that threatened to overflow. "This... it looks like a legion of demons danced inside."
Ethan, still recovering from the morning kick and the pain that still throbbed, simply crossed his arms, leaning against a pillar with a crooked smile. "You're late. She's already finished the job," he commented disdainfully.
Ilyas turned his face, a mixture of respect and terror etched on his expression. "She did this? The newbie?"
"Choi Eun-kyung," Ethan replied, nodding toward Seraphina, who stood in the background, wiping her hands with a damp towel, calm and distant like someone who had just come from a doctor's appointment rather than a brutal interrogation.
"By... by Erebus..." Ilyas swallowed, then leaned closer to Ethan and whispered, his eyes wide with wonder and fear. "Remind me to never, ever make that girl mad, Ethan."
Ethan gave a wry, nostalgic smile. "Noted. Kind of nostalgic, I've lost count of how many people have asked me to do just that. I think you could even put that request on a t-shirt."
Ilyas composed himself and beckoned them both closer. "Alright, soldiers. Now that we have answers... we have a new destination."
Seraphina approached, her face expressionless, her body relaxed as if she hadn't spent the last two hours twisting the bodies and minds of three men to the brink of death.
"The data you extracted, Choi Eun-kyung," Ilyas said, "points to a hidden base in the catacombs of the old Marseille train station. An abandoned section of the railway network. No one has officially entered it in years."
Ethan frowned in disbelief. "An underground base in a French train station? Sounds like a B-movie script."
"It seems so," Ilyas agreed. "Until you realize that over 40 tons of experimental weaponry have gone missing in the last six months in France. And not a single camera has caught a single thing."
Seraphina remained silent, absorbing the gravity of this information. The shiny surface of a modern European civilization hid deep, treacherous shadows.
"You two will investigate the site," Ilyas continued. "Take detection equipment and keep the EVP hidden. If you find any anomalies, report them immediately. The Order cannot afford to lose a soldier as… unique as you, Choi Eun-kyung."
She stared at him for a second, not with pride, but with recognition of the delicacy of the word. A veiled acknowledgement, free of flattery. "Understood," she replied firmly.
Ilyas walked away, already speaking into his communicator. "You leave in two hours. The collection team will take care of the… waste."
As he left, Ethan glanced at Seraphina, his face lighting up in a wry smile. "Waste. What a delicate term for three guys with their vertebrae switched around."
Seraphina didn't answer, her gaze lost in the warehouse window. Outside, the faint morning light was beginning to gild the Marseille sky, tinting the buildings and sparse trees orange, creating a momentary illusion of normality.
But beneath that illusory glow, she and Ethan knew exactly what awaited them, the cold, dark, forgotten underground, where the smell of rust and mold mingled with that of bodies carrying sickening secrets. The place where the rot of the real world hid, far from the eyes of the world. They were ready.