Lena's pov
The message haunted me as I slipped through the dimly lit streets. You can't hide forever. Those words weren't just a threat—they were a warning etched deep into my mind, echoing louder with every step I took.
My breath came out in shallow clouds, visible in the cold night air. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, fighting the knot of fear twisting in my stomach. I wasn't one to be rattled easily—not after everything I'd faced—but this was different. This was personal.
I needed answers.
I spotted a small, nearly empty café still open and slipped inside, grateful for the temporary refuge. The low hum of quiet conversations and the soft clink of dishes felt worlds away from the storm inside me.
Sliding into a shadowed corner booth, I pulled out my encrypted tablet hidden beneath a stack of textbooks. My fingers trembled just slightly as I powered it on, instantly going to work.
First, I traced the source of the message. It was no simple prank or random hacker. Layers upon layers of proxies and VPNs masked the sender's location—deliberate, calculated, professional. Someone who knew how to cover their tracks. Someone dangerous.
I cross-checked the message with mission activity logs and agency reports. Officially, nothing was amiss. But unofficially… I wasn't so sure. The message was a shadow of a breach—someone had eyes on me. Following my every move.
My heart thudded harder as I accessed the campus security footage archives, scanning hours of video from cameras placed around the library, dorms, and nearby streets. For hours, I watched figures drift by—students, late workers, a stray dog. Then, a shape in a dark hoodie caught my eye.
The figure lingered just beyond camera range, face obscured by a hood and shifting shadows. Every time the camera angle changed, they moved—always lurking, always hidden. It was no coincidence. It was stalking.
I leaned forward, the cold sweat breaking out on my forehead despite the chill. This wasn't a warning to back off—it was a challenge.
My fingers flew over the tablet as I ran a digital trace on the figure's last known location. Nothing solid came up—just static and dead signals. Whoever was doing this had access to technology far beyond the usual.
I shut the tablet quickly as the café door opened, the bell jangling softly. My head snapped up instinctively, but it was just a late customer wrapped in a scarf, unaware of the storm brewing around me.
Still, the paranoia clung like a second skin. Every glance over my shoulder, every rustle of footsteps made my heart leap.
I had to act fast.
This wasn't just about the mission anymore. It was about survival.
I couldn't let them find me—not yet.
Pulling my jacket tighter, I slipped out of the café, disappearing into the night, the cold biting but fueling the fire burning in my chest.
Every shadow was a potential threat.
Every whisper of wind a warning.
And I was ready.