Present – Rome, 4:37 AM
Rain pounded against the tin roof of the small warehouse where Kael and Aria were hiding. They had managed to escape Venice just hours earlier, exchanging gunfire with unknown men who clearly weren't there for Karimov.
Kael's ribs were burning. The pain was constant, but it was Aria who hurt more. She was there—alive, strong… but the wall between them felt higher than ever.
She stared at the map spread across an old table. Her eyes scanned streets, escape routes, surveillance points. The silence between them was louder than the storm outside.
"This place has only one exit," she said without looking at him. "If Karimov is really here, he already knows we're coming."
Kael leaned against the wall and wiped the dried blood from his side. He tried to lighten the weight with sarcasm.
"Remember when our biggest worry was missing a shot in training?"
She turned, her gaze cold.
"The biggest worry was you distracting me. And missing meant someone died."
Kael tried to smile, but guilt pierced his chest like a second bullet.
"You still haven't forgiven me, huh?"
"No," she said. Simple. Cruel. Honest. "And I don't expect you to forgive me either."
A sharp silence settled between them. Then he asked, almost in a whisper:
"Why did you come back?"
She hesitated. Her eyes softened for a moment, but her tone stayed firm.
"Because my former trainer is behind this. Because Karimov works for him now. And because…" — she stopped, looking away — "if someone's going to put a bullet in his head, it's going to be me."
⸻
Flashback – Five Years Ago, Istanbul
The Agency's advanced training facility was known as "the final forge." If you didn't break there, you were ready for the real world.
Aria was a star. Disciplined. Precise. Cold. Until she met Lieutenant Ivan Volkov—the chief instructor.
Volkov wasn't an ordinary man. A former Russian military officer, transferred to the agency after the fall of a government no one wanted to talk about. He saw the world in black and white—you either served, or you were disposable.
Aria admired him. At first.
"Emotion is weakness, Aria," he'd say as she hit the target for the eighth time in a row. "You have talent. But if you let someone in here—" he pointed to her chest, "you'll die. Or kill someone you shouldn't."
She believed him. For a while. Until the mission in Syria.
Volkov gave the order to sacrifice civilian hostages. Aria disobeyed. She saved them. And for that, she was punished: temporarily demoted and sent back to the operations center.
Volkov? Promoted. Untouchable.
He looked at her when she left, as cold as ever.
"The difference between you and me, Aria, is that I sleep at night."
She never forgot.
⸻
Present – Rome
Kael took it all in silently. Volkov's name wasn't new to him, but the fact that he was the link behind everything? That changed the game.
"If he's involved… this isn't just about Karimov, is it?"
Aria replied with a firm voice, but her eyes held something darker.
"No. It's about what he did to me. To other agents. To the entire system. Yes, he's selling information. But he's also training mercenaries for rogue governments. He taught me how to be a weapon. Now he sells weapons like me."
Kael stayed silent for a few moments.
"That's why you can't be with me."
She blinked, surprised.
"What do you mean?"
"Because you hate yourself for believing in him. And being with me reminds you of that. Of what he stole from you."
She took a deep breath, staring at the floor.
"Maybe… But being with you also reminds me of what I almost had."
He stepped closer. They were so close that the heat between them felt more lethal than any weapon.
But she stepped back.
"Not now, Kael. I have to finish this. I can't be weak again."
"And I'm your weakness?"
"You're the only thing that still makes me want to be human."
⸻
Flashback – Two Years Ago, Germany. Agency Internal Archives
Kael had seen the classified reports. Volkov had disappeared. Officially dead. But an internal note said, "incomplete infiltration – active in unknown location."
He remembered Aria saying: "If I disappear, it's because something inside the agency broke me."
Now it all made sense.
⸻
Present – Rome, 5:12 AM
An alarm sounded on Aria's computer. Drone footage showed the warehouse where Volkov was hiding with Karimov.
Kael grabbed his weapon. Aria folded the map.
"This isn't just a mission," he said. "It's a reckoning. Or revenge."
"Maybe it's both," she replied, holstering her gun.
Kael walked beside her to the door, but before they left, he turned and asked:
"When this is all over… do we try again?"
She didn't answer right away. Just looked at him. With the eyes of someone who had buried too many feelings.
"If I'm still alive, maybe."
And with that, they vanished into the rain, where the past still bleeds and the future is made of bullets and kisses never shared.
⸻
Bonus Scene – Unknown Location, Around 5:40 AM
The hum of a generator echoed through concrete walls. Flickering fluorescent lights hung above a metal table covered with documents, tablets, maps marked in red ink. At the center stood Karimov, flawless in a dark gray suit, lighting a cigarette with the calm of a man who never rushed to kill.
His face was sharp, beard well-groomed, eyes razor-sharp. He watched the live footage from security cameras: Aria and Kael leaving their Roman hideout.
"Always together, even when pretending to be apart," he muttered with a heavy Eastern European accent, smirking. "Love is such a useful weakness."
One of his guards approached, nervous.
"Sir, our system detected movement on the secondary perimeter. Two drones down."
Karimov showed no emotion. He slowly snubbed out his cigarette against the table.
"And Volkov?"
"Still in Palermo. He says he won't move until the shipment leaves the coast."
Karimov stood. He was taller than he looked seated, and even more imposing.
"Tell your boss I don't work for him," he said in a low, venomous tone. "I work with him. And if he forgets that again… there'll be another neck to break before retirement."
The guard swallowed hard. Karimov walked to a glass shelf and retrieved a small box marked with ancient Russian symbols. He placed it on the table.
"Do you know what's inside this?"
The guard shook his head. Karimov opened it. Inside: a syringe filled with amber fluid, and a chip bearing an agent's ID from the International Agency.
"This is the future. Neural modulation nanotech. With this, I can turn any spy into a loyal dog. Even her."
He looked at the screen: Aria, in slow motion, holding her gun beside Kael. Her gaze still defiant. Still rebellious.
"She betrayed me when she followed Volkov. Now, I'll return her broken. Cold. A shadow of what she once was."
The guard hesitated.
"And Kael?"
Karimov smiled—this time with open cruelty.
"Kael is the best agent that washed-up agency ever produced. But his first mistake was falling in love. His second… was surviving."
He picked up a controller and activated a holographic map. Red dots blinked over various cities: Geneva, Budapest, Saint Petersburg, Cairo.
"They think I'm selling weapons. That I'm just a trafficker of secrets. How quaint." He snapped his fingers. "I'm building a new war. One no one will see coming. Because it won't be fought with bombs or tanks… but with living programs."
The guard looked even more confused.
"Humans, agent. Programmed humans. Modified. Infiltrated."
Karimov closed the box with a metallic snap.
"Volkov thinks he's in control. Aria thinks she can get revenge. Kael thinks he can save her. But they all forgot the most important detail:"
He walked to the bunker's bulletproof window and watched the sun rise over a vast field where trucks were loading military containers.
"The one who controls chaos… has already won."
The camera slowly zoomed out from Karimov, his reflection distorting in the glass like a silent warning that the true enemy was only just beginning to play.