The Past Flicker...

The pain throbbed through Marhavva's leg as he leaned against the damp, crumbling brick wall of the alley. Kian crouched beside him, quickly assessing the wound, while Havva fumbled inside her coat pocket, pulling out a sleek device—the Reclaimer. Its blue light flickered on, scanning the wound with mechanical precision before it began the extraction process. Marhavva clenched his jaw, determined not to make a sound. He had been through worse.

The bullet slid out seamlessly, the device automatically sealing the wound with its advanced clotting gel. He took a sharp breath and smirked. "Damn, Havva. You really do know how to make a man weak in the knees."

Havva rolled her eyes as she slipped the Reclaimer back into her pocket. "You'd be on the ground bleeding out if it weren't for me."

Marhavva grinned but before he could respond, his eyes flicked past Kian. Something glinted in the distance—a sniper scope reflecting the dim alleyway lights. His heart pounded.

"Get down!" he roared, yanking Havva into his chest and kicking Kian out of the line of fire.

The sniper's bullet whizzed through the space where Kian had been standing, embedding itself into the brick wall behind them. Kian barely had time to react before he was on his feet, sprinting toward their parked car at the entrance of the alley.

Marhavva held Havva so tightly that she could barely move. His arms were locked around her, as if letting go meant she'd disappear. The adrenaline coursing through him didn't let up, even as Kian skidded the car to a stop in front of them.

"You can let me go now, you moron," Havva muttered against his chest.

Marhavva dramatically sighed, finally loosening his grip. "You're so heartless. I took a bullet for you, risked my life, and all I get is 'let me go'?"

Kian chuckled from the driver's seat. "Oh, Havva, you should've seen his face. He shielded you so you wouldn't get to enjoy his priceless expressions."

Marhavva shot him a glare. "Some bastard is talking way too much."

Havva smirked. "First, let me go, then you can kill him."

Marhavva sighed dramatically again. "I ran with a bullet straight into my knee to keep my queen safe, and she doesn't even admire my efforts? Unbelievable."

Havva crossed her arms. "Yeah, yeah, stop being a crybaby. And who's the queen? If I am, then you're the knight with a golden sword."

Marhavva leaned closer, smirking. "A big, huge sword."

Havva's face turned red in second.

Kian groaned. "God, stop embarrassing Havva in front of me, you shameless idiot."

Marhavva winked at Havva before Kian cut in, his expression turning serious. "Did you see something before Paul shot you?"

Marhavva's smirk faded. "Paul didn't shoot me."

Kian frowned. "Then who did?"

Marhavva's jaw tightened.

They relocated to a safe house, a dimly lit apartment on the outskirts of the city. Marhavva sat on the couch, his leg bandaged, while Kian lounged in a chair, his shirt loose, the tension from the previous encounter still hanging between them. Havva sat on the bed, her soft pink gown catching the low light, while Marhavva leaned into her lap, absentmindedly playing with her hair.

Kian tapped his fingers against the wooden armrest. "So, you're saying the organization knew about this? That's why they sent us to track Paul?"

Marhavva nodded. "They calculated the entire thing."

Kian leaned forward. "Tell me who he is and why you both are tangled in this mess."

Marhavva sat up, exhaling slowly. His voice was quieter this time. "He was a close friend of mine..."

The silence stretched between them. Havva's fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on the bedsheets. Kian didn't press, waiting for him to continue.

Marhavva looked away, his jaw tightening. "We trained together. Fought together. Bled together. His name was Darcy."

Kian's eyes narrowed. "Darcy. The same guy who vanished five years ago?"

Marhavva nodded. "He didn't vanish. He was taken."

Havva's brows furrowed. "By whom?"

Marhavva exhaled. "Maybe, By the same people who set up Paul's escape."

Kian cursed under his breath. "And now he's shooting at you?"

Marhavva gave a bitter chuckle. "Looks like he didn't forget the past."

Havva's voice was softer. "What happened?"

Marhavva stared at the floor. Silence.

Kian stood. "We need to find him before he finds us."

Marhavva looked at Kian, something sharp in his gaze. "No. I need to find him before he kills me."

Havva glanced at Marhavva, her fingers still brushing against his hands.

Marhavva sighed, shifting slightly against her lap, his body still aching but his mind sharper than ever. His fingers toyed absentmindedly with a strand of her hair as he spoke, his voice quieter than usual. "He was a close friend of mine... someone I trusted with my life."

Kian leaned forward, his sharp gaze unwavering. "And now he's your enemy. What changed?"

Marhavva exhaled heavily. "Betrayal."

MARHAVVA'S POV:-

My leg throbbed, the bandages tight around the wound, but I ignored the pain. The real wound, the one that had never healed, was far deeper.

Kian exhaled. "Alright, Marhavva. Go ahead, will you?"

I hesitated, my fingers gripping the fabric of Havva's dress slightly. My voice came out lower than I expected, thick with something between resentment and disbelief.

"He was my friend once," I started, my gaze fixed on the floor. "We trained together, bled together. He was like a brother to me."

Kian's expression didn't change, but I could see the shift in his posture—more alert, more interested. Havva's fingers stopped moving through my hair, and I could tell she was listening closely.

"We were recruited into the organization at the same time," I continued, closing my eyes as memories surfaced like ghosts from the past. "We went through hell together. Missions, assignments, close calls—you name it. We had each other's backs, always. Until one day... he didn't."

A silence settled over the room, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me.

"Dear?" Havva finally asked, her voice softer than usual.

I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling as if the answers were etched there.

"The organization sent us on a classified mission. It was supposed to be a clean job—extract information, eliminate the target, and get out. But something felt off from the beginning. I didn't question it at the time. Darcy and I were professionals, we did what we were told. But when we got there... the intel was wrong. The target wasn't just one person. It was a massacre waiting to happen."

Kian's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt.

"We were surrounded. Outnumbered. It should have been a death sentence, but then... Darcy changed the plan."

I clenched my jaw, forcing the next words out. "He betrayed me."

Havva's fingers tensed on my lap, but I barely noticed.

"He made a deal with them," I said, my voice colder now. "Sold me out in exchange for his own life. I barely made it out of there, bleeding, broken... and alone."

Kian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "And now he's back. Helping Paul."

I nodded, the bitter taste of betrayal still fresh even after all these years. "I don't know why. But I intend to find out."

I smirked, but there was no humor in it. Only something dark. "Then I'll remind him what happens when you stab me in the back."

The investigation unit :

Elena let out a sigh, gripping the edge of the rooftop railing as she stared at the bustling city below. The weight of her current case bore down on her shoulders, heavier than usual. She took a deep breath, trying to ease the frustration clouding her mind.

Lloyd, her senior and long-time partner, leaned against the railing beside her, casually sipping his coffee. "So… Darcy, huh?" he mused. "That name's been buried for a while. What exactly are you digging into?"

Elena took the black coffee he handed her and nodded in thanks before answering, "Disappeared five years ago, wiped clean from every database we have. No records, no history, no footprint. But now, suddenly, his name resurfaces in classified reports. The higher-ups believe he might still be alive."

Lloyd frowned. "That's… not something you hear every day. What's your lead?"

Elena sipped her coffee, letting the bitterness ground her thoughts. " People who claim to have seen him in the underground networks, moving like a ghost. Every attempt to track him leads to dead ends. It's like someone is deliberately keeping his existence off the grid."

Lloyd let out a low whistle. "That's dangerous. If someone like him is back, it means he's either running from something… or coming back for unfinished business."

Elena tightened her grip on the cup. "That's what I'm afraid of. And if I don't find out the truth before it's too late, it could cost us more than just a case file."

Lloyd studied her, noting the tension in her jaw. "I take it you have a personal stake in this?"

She hesitated, staring out at the horizon. "I knew someone who was connected to him once. Someone who thought he was dead. If Darcy's really alive, then everything they believed was a lie."

Lloyd exhaled sharply. "That complicates things. And if the organization doesn't want his past to resurface, we might be stepping into a bigger mess than we realize."

Elena turned to him with a determined look. "I don't care how big the mess is. If he's alive, I'm going to find him. And when I do, I'll get the truth—no matter what it takes."

Lloyd nodded, a smirk forming. "Then I guess we're in for one hell of a chase."