8:03 PM – Infiltration, Minute 3
No gunshots.
No alarms.
Only the silence—dense, taut, and sharp enough to pierce skin.
After breaching the main gate and disabling the outer grid, the Black Number team moved in, silent and surgical.
All weapons suppressed.
Every breath measured.
Two operatives crept low along a tiled wall—and from the far end of the hallway, a shadow lunged.
Pfft. Pfft.
Two short, pressurized snaps—Black Number Three fired twice with a suppressed handgun.
No bang.
No echo.
Only a thud, as the guard dropped lifeless onto cold stone.
"Movement. Two o'clock, left corridor."
Signals passed silently through the team.
Jinwoo moved forward, breathing low, weapon drawn.
Daniel and Noah followed close behind, steps feather-light—like shadows skimming across walls.
Through the narrow gap of a nearby door—Celeste saw him.
And for a moment, her breath simply stopped.
His face—sharper, sweat-soaked, more focused than she had ever seen—yet unmistakably, achingly him.
"You… came all this way. For me…"
Behind him, she saw Daniel. Then Noah.
Their expressions had changed too.
Harder.
Quieter.
Real.
But just as they inched closer—her gaze shifted.
Top of the staircase, left flank.
And the arched alcove opposite it.
Three guards. Creeping into view.
Guns drawn—aimed directly at their backs.
Celeste's breath caught.
Her heart skipped, then thundered.
Without thought, her finger slid onto the trigger.
Click.
The guest room door opened—quietly.
No footsteps.
Only the hush of air.
She stepped forward from the shadows.
Gun raised.
Expression still.
0.7 seconds of silence.
Pfft.
First shot—clean through the forehead of the upper guard.
His body snapped backward and tumbled down the stairs.
Pfft.
Second—through a narrow gap in a pillar, straight into the temple of the man targeting Jinwoo. The bullet whispered through wood—then silence.
Pfft.
Third—angled into the clavicle of the guard turning on Noah. The shot pierced just above the heart—rupturing arteries in complete quiet.
His body spun unnaturally, hit the wall, and collapsed into himself.
It was over in three breaths.
Jinwoo, Daniel, and Noah froze mid-step.
They hadn't turned around yet—but they all knew.
Every threat behind them was gone.
Slowly, their eyes turned back—toward the end of the corridor.
There, in the shadows just beyond the doorframe—stood Celeste.
Gun in hand.
Eyes steady.
"…Celeste?"
Jinwoo's voice—barely a whisper—carried through the tense, smoke-thin air.
She didn't answer.
She simply lowered her weapon and stepped out.
"Celeste!"
Daniel's voice followed. Urgent. Breathless.
She met their eyes.
Then—finally—exhaled.
And in that shared breath, the three of them moved.
No signal. No words.
They just ran—straight to her.
Inside the guest room, shielded by the door, Jinwoo reached for her first.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"
He was already scanning her arms, her back—his hands cautious but trembling slightly.
And Daniel—Daniel simply pulled her into an embrace without a word.
"Hey! What about me?! I want a hug too! Me too!"
Jinwoo protested, half-shouting.
Noah sighed, rubbing his temple.
But when Celeste quietly extended her hand, even he relented, stepping forward into their arms.
For one heartbeat, the room was nothing but breath, and warmth, and skin.
For once—emotion came before bullets.
But the moment didn't last.
"Not to ruin the mood,"
Noah muttered,
"I thought we came to protect her…but I think we're the ones who need protecting from her."
Celeste chuckled.
"Still can't keep that mouth of yours shut, huh?"
She ejected the magazine, checked the remaining rounds.
"Twelve."
A whisper.
Then a clean, practiced reload.
She spun the gun in her hand and clipped it back into place.
"You know the drill. Stick close. Stay low."
She moved first.
One hand on the door, breath steady—then, a quiet click as it opened.
Behind her, Jinwoo leaned in and whispered—
Jinwoo leaned in, eyes wide, voice a whisper that wasn't quite low enough:
"…So… wait. Did she go to the military? Or is she, like… secretly Jason Bourne with better hair?"
Daniel and Noah turned to him in perfect unison.
No expression. No words.
Just the kind of silence that said, "Seriously?"
Daniel exhaled quietly, his voice low and weighty.
"…He has no idea."
Noah blinked once. Then shook his head.
"Not a clue."
He added, almost lazily,
"You explain it to him later. I'm not doing the reincarnation arc again."
Daniel paused, staring forward.
Then murmured, almost to himself—calm, but unmistakably done.
"…Why is it always me."