We Can Talk

Yin Hee and Eve sat at a quiet café tucked into a corner of Gram, the hum of city life muffled by soft jazz playing in the background.

"Any information?" Eve asked, sipping her matcha slowly.

Yin Hee, eyes fixed on her laptop, gave a short nod. "Yes. According to my intel, Miem is being held in a lab. That's all he knew. Now we just need the exact location."

Eve let out a soft sigh. "How? Another twisted game? I doubt we'll get anything else. They've tightened the leash on information."

"They have," Yin Hee admitted. "Which is why we'll do it our way. There are only so many labs in the city. We'll check each one. And your power might help confirm which one holds Miem."

"That's a good idea…" Eve said reluctantly. "Still, I don't like being treated like a metal detector."

Yin Hee chuckled, closing her laptop and slipping it into her bag. "Don't think of it that way. You're someone I can trust."

Eve looked down at her cup. "Right. Trust."

She swirled the matcha with her spoon, watching the green spiral fade into white froth.

"You ever think some people only seem trustworthy… until they're not?" she asked quietly, almost absently.

Yin Hee blinked, tilting her head. "Where's that coming from?"

Eve looked up with a soft smile, something unreadable behind her eyes. "Nowhere. Just… something my father used to say. People change when things get too personal."

Yin Hee studied her for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, let's hope we don't have to."

Eve raised her cup in a mock toast. "Let's."

---

They left the café and began visiting labs across the city, one by one.

"Ha… I'm so tired. My feet are killing me," Eve groaned, collapsing onto a bench.

"There are only three labs left." Yin Hee checked the paper listing the labs they'd visited. Most were crossed off—only three remained.

"Good. Let's end this."

Just as they stood up, the ground rumbled. The air shifted. It lasted only a few seconds, but enough to make them freeze.

"What the heck was that?" Yin Hee muttered.

"It came from the prison. Sunny must've done something. Let's keep going—I doubt it's anything we need to worry about."

Yin Hee nodded, falling into step behind her.

They arrived at a building called *Orboros Pharmacy*.

"Good evening, ma'am. May I assist you?" the clerk greeted them politely.

"Have you found the cure for cancer?" Yin Hee asked casually.

"Pardon?"

As the conversation distracted the clerk, Eve quietly slipped away. She didn't enter any restricted areas—just explored the public ones. That's when it happened.

She approached the elevator, intending to reach the top floor. But it wouldn't go up. Only one button lit up: **LG3**.

Curious, Eve pressed it.

She quickly texted Yin Hee about the discovery just as the doors closed, cutting the signal.

"Great," she muttered, pocketing her phone and crossing her arms. Elevator music hummed, a chill contrast to the growing tension.

Upstairs, Yin Hee checked her phone.

"Do you know where the toilet is?" she asked the clerk.

Though caught off guard, the clerk nodded. "End of the hallway."

Yin Hee thanked her and walked off. Once out of sight, she headed to the emergency stairwell and descended.

---

A ding announced the elevator doors opening—Yin Hee was already waiting, having taken the stairs.

"Your power thinks this is the place?" she asked.

"Not quite," Eve replied.

They stood in an underground parking lot. It didn't look like a lab at all.

A car turned from the corner, approaching fast. Behind it, a black van followed closely, tailed by a black jeep.

Without hesitation, Eve moved behind a nearby car. Yin Hee followed instinctively.

"Why are we hiding?" Yin Hee whispered.

Eve handed her a compact mirror. "Twelve o'clock. Suspicious activity."

Yin Hee angled the mirror. She spotted men in battle suits exiting the vehicles—followed by a man in a business suit. They looked like they were waiting for someone.

"Is that Wo? What is that bastard doing here?" Eve muttered, her voice low with rage.

From the black car, another man stepped out, flanked by two B-grade Honors.

"Pleasure meeting you," he said with a polite nod.

Wo barely glanced at him. "Keep the pleasantries. We know why we're here."

The man gestured with a finger. One of the Honors retrieved a suitcase from the trunk and opened it.

"Isn't that the Neurosonic Disruptor?" Eve frowned.

Wo examined it in silence, then nodded. The suitcase was shut and handed over to one of his henchmen.

In return, Wo gave a thick bundle of cash to the man.

Yin Hee quietly snapped a photo of the transaction.

"Why go through all this trouble for the device?" the man asked. "Isn't your squad—what is it, Phoenix Squad?—also looking for this?"

"They're a ticking bomb. It needs to be defused… slowly."

"I see. So you used us to make sure they failed. That way, you'll have grounds to discredit the squad, kill their reputation, and disband them."

"How's Miem? Did you do your job?" Wo cut in, shifting topics.

"She's safe."

Yin Hee turned to Eve. "We've found our lead."

"Yeah."

They started to leave—until Yin Hee noticed Eve wasn't moving.

"Eve?"

"This might be our only chance to get the device."

"What are you talking about?"

"If we retreat now, there's no guarantee we'll ever get it back."

"What makes you think that?"

""Wo's going to stash it in one of Synth's bunkers—the kind where powers don't even work. We'd have maybe a three percent chance of getting it back."

"How do you know?"

"Synth has a device that disables powers. Wo's going to place the disruptor there. Any infiltration would be suicide."

"But there must be another way." Yin Hee stepped forward. "Eve, we don't have a strong fighter with us. Your powers can turn the odds, but they won't guarantee victory. Worst case—you survive, but barely."

"I'm a fighter," Eve said, smiling.

Then she ran.

"Eve!" Yin Hee shouted. "Goddammit, she's insane!" She took off after her.

The group below turned at the sound of footsteps.

A blonde girl sprinted toward them, coat trailing behind her.

"Eve?" Wo said, startled.

His henchmen moved at once, stepping forward with deadly intent.

Concrete pillars. Dim ceiling lights flicker above rows of parked cars. The hum of a distant generator echoes. Oil stains the ground. Eve exhales slowly, focused, her breath fogging slightly in the cold, still air.

A **henchman** tall, muscular, in a black jacket—steps into the open, cracking his knuckles.

They circle. No words. Just tension.

**THE FIGHT BEGINS—**

The henchman lunges first—

A wide haymaker—

**Eve ducks under** it, rolls forward, and snaps up behind him.

**Bam!** A short, sharp elbow to his kidney.

He grunts, spins with a backhand—

Eve blocks with her forearm, her teeth clenched from the impact—

Then drives a knee into his thigh.

He stumbles. Grabs a **tire iron** from a nearby tool cart—

Swings—

**CLANG!** It slams into a pillar as Eve ducks again, grabbing his arm mid-swing and twisting it behind his back.

**CRACK!** She knees his elbow. He drops the iron.

He roars, breaks free, and throws her against a car hood.

**THUD!** The alarm **blares**. Red lights flash.

He rushes her—

Eve times it—

Sidesteps—

Grabs his jacket—

**FLIPS** him over her shoulder onto the concrete.

**SLAM!**

The floor vibrates. His breath wheezes out.

He rolls, grabbing her ankle—

She drops, locks his neck between her thighs.

He claws at her leg.

She tightens, then slams his face into the ground.

Once. Twice.

Limp.

Eve stands, panting. One sleeve torn, knuckles bruised. Blood drips from her lip as she straightens her jacket with a cold glare.

From across the lot, the suited man watches the fallen henchman twitch on the ground. His smile twitches.

Seeing how a girl just dismantled professional private soldiers—

"Let's talk about business later. It is a pleasure!" he blurts, scrambling into his car. The two Honors jump in behind him, slamming the doors.

**Engine roars. Tires screech.**

The car peels out of its spot, heading straight for the exit.

Eve doesn't flinch.

"You're not getting away," she mutters, pulling a **smoke marble** from her belt—a gift from Sunny.

She crushes it in her palm. Smoke coils like a living thing, stretching, shaping—

—into a sharp, spear-headed **harpoon**, sleek and dark, its **smoky rope** snaking around her arm.

With precision and fury, she **hurls** it.

**THWACK!**

It **slams into the rear of the speeding car**, the arrowhead **piercing through the backseat**, anchoring into the frame beneath. A sharp metallic sound rings as **barbed hooks** unfold, locking in place.

Inside the car—

**"What the—!?"** the driver shouts, yanking the wheel.

Eve wraps the smoke-rope **tight around her forearm**, muscles tensing.

She plants her boots.

The rope goes taut.

**WHIP!**

The car **jerks**, front end **ripping off the ground**, flipping **forward** like a fish caught mid-sprint.

**CRASH!**

Glass shatters. Metal crunches.

The vehicle lands **upside down**, skidding several feet before stopping in a mess of smoke and sparks.

Eve exhales.

"Now we can talk."