Brandon returned to the agency, carrying the weight of a completed mission like a medal. Inside Raven's sleek, dimly lit office, he casually debriefed her—hands in his pockets, mask of charm perfectly in place.
Outside, Jason approached, fury etched into every step. The guards moved to block him.
"Stand down," one warned.
"Orders from Madam Raven—"
Jason didn't wait. A swift blow to the first, elbow to the second. Both crumpled before they could blink. He kicked open the office door.
"You sick bastard!" he roared, his fist crashing into Brandon's face, knocking him to the floor.
Brandon wiped the blood from his lip, grinning from the ground. "That's quite a welcome. But let's not pretend to be saints here. The mission's done. Code secured. File intact."
Jason's eyes were wild. "You tore her open?—just to get a darm code?! was that really necessary?"
Brandon laughed bitterly. "Spare me the lecture. Maybe if you'd taken the job when you were told, she'd still be breathing. But you passed it to me, remember? Now you're mad I got my hands dirty?"
"You really are a damn dog you know that," Jason said as he turned away in disgust.
"Now, now," Raven's voice sliced through the tension. She leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "You should be thanking him, not punching him. Mission was a success."
Jason scoffed but didn't reply. He stormed off, disgusted.
Of course, the story spread like wildfire.
The Vortex Mission. Brutal. Bloody. Successful. They whispered about the S-rank assassin who tore a woman open for a code. Everyone assumed it was Jason—his cold, emotionless demeanor made it easy to believe. Brandon? The goofball? No one could picture it.
But Jason knew the truth. And so did Brandon—who, for some twisted reason, started trailing Jason like a shadow, knowing full well he was hated.
Back to the present—Daphne stared at Jason, stunned.
"They say... she was pregnant," she said quietly.
Jason's jaw clenched. "Rumors don't bleed. We won't know… unless we ask the devil himself."
Suddenly, Jason's knees buckled. He staggered, panting, sweat pouring down his face.
"Jason?!" Daphne caught him, hands on his forehead. "You're burning up—you've got a fever. Why didn't you say anything?"
"I'm fine," he muttered, trying to push her off.
"No, you're not," she snapped, holding him firm. "Stop pretending you're made of stone."
Brandon, Liam, and Malia noticed Daphne and Jason had stopped walking. Concerned, Malia approached first.
"Daphne? What's going on?"
Daphne glanced back, voice tight. "It's Jason… he's burning up. His fever's spiking."
Liam blinked in disbelief. "Big bro… can get sick?"
Brandon stepped forward with his usual calm grin. "Well then, we better get you back inside now, shouldn't we?"
But Daphne didn't move. Her eyes locked on Brandon—suspicion, pain, recognition.
Brandon tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Those eyes… I've seen them before." He took a step closer. "You remind me of someone."
Daphne instinctively stepped back. Brandon kept walking.
That's when Jason forced himself between them, his body faltering.
"Her eyes have always been like that," he muttered—then collapsed again.
"Jason!" Daphne caught him, panic flashing across her face. She turned sharply. "That's it. You're going back to the motel. Liam, you're coming with us."
She reached out her hand for Liam—but Brandon blocked her casually.
"No need to rush," he said smoothly. "You take Jason back to the safehouse. I'll stay behind with Malia and Liam."
Daphne opened her mouth to object, but Jason gripped her arm weakly.
"Don't. I told you… he won't do anything to him. Trust me."
Daphne hesitated, then crouched to Liam's level. "Stick with Malia, alright?"
Liam looked up, confused. "Malia? Brandon's here too, isn't he?"
Then he smiled. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Go take care of Big Bro."
Daphne forced a smile and ruffled his hair. "Be back by 10. Both of you."
"Got it!" Liam chirped.
She turned to Malia. "Watch him."
Malia gave a confident nod.
As Daphne moved to leave with Jason, Brandon suddenly reached out and gripped her wrist.
She froze.
"Daphne… what's with the distance?" he asked softly, too softly.
"You've changed. You're colder. Why?"
She couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. Jason's voice cut in—quiet, but firm.
He pried Brandon's hand off her, then took hers instead.
"She doesn't owe you anything," he said. "Now back off."
And with that, Jason and Daphne walked away, leaving Brandon staring after them… smile faded, gaze dark.
Daphne walked in silence beside Jason, the air tense and heavy. His steps were steady, but his voice was low and sharp.
"I told you not to act on impulse," he said without looking at her. "You could've made things worse."
She lowered her head, guilt weighing her down. "I know I'm sorry… I just— I still can't believe he's Vortex. After everything... He acts like he hates liars, but he's the worst kind of monster."
Jason's eyes narrowed. "I never trusted anyone at the agency. Especially not him. Trust is just disguised dependency — a weakness I can't afford."
Daphne glanced at him, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. "It's strange… hearing that from you should hurt, but somehow, it makes me feel safer. At least you're honest, even if it stings. Right now... you're the only person I feel like I can trust."
Jason didn't reply. But his gaze lingered on her — too long for someone who claimed to live without attachments — then he looked away, silent.
"I heard the mission was first assigned to you," she said after a pause. "Do you ever think... maybe if you had taken it, she might still be alive?"
Jason kept walking. His voice came quiet, but flat. "Regret is for those who believe they had a choice."
Daphne gave a small, dry laugh. "Come on… maybe you would've fallen for her. Maybe you'd have thrown it all away and lived a normal life with her in some quiet place."
He stopped walking.
A cold wind passed between them before he finally spoke.
"Villains don't deserve things like that."
"Why not?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
He looked at the sky like it held an answer.
"Because love isn't made for people who destroy. People like me—we don't receive love. We use it. Break it. And then keep moving. That's just what we are."
Daphne looked away, blinking fast, hiding the sting behind her eyes.
"I see…"
Jason walked again, quietly this time—faster, as though he didn't want her to see the part of him that almost… wished otherwise.
They finally reached the motel. Jason staggered, his strength giving out.
"Jason!" Daphne rushed to his side, catching him just before he collapsed. "You're burning up—come on, let's get you inside."
With urgency, she helped him into the room, guiding him gently onto the bed. His breath was shallow, skin pale with sweat.
"You stay here—I'll get towels, sheets, something to bring that fever down." She bolted out the door.
By the time she returned, arms full of supplies, Jason had already slipped into sleep. His brows were furrowed, chest rising and falling unevenly. She knelt beside him, gently pulling off his jacket—then froze.
Blood.
His shirt clung to the reopened wound where he had been shot.
"No wonder his fever's spiking…" she whispered, panic flashing in her eyes.
With careful hands, she removed the soaked bandages, cleaned the wound, and rewrapped it with fresh ones. Her movements were swift, focused—desperate to ease his pain. She cooled his body with damp cloths, placed one on his forehead, and carefully fed him the medicine she'd managed to scrape together.
Time passed. Two hours. Still, she didn't move from his side.
Then—his eyes opened, slow and dazed.
"Jason?" she leaned in. "Are you awake? Do you need something?"
He blinked, barely conscious. "Something… warm…"
"I'll get you a warm drink—just hold on," she said, rushing out and returning moments later with a glass of heated water. He drank, but his expression didn't change.
"That's not it," he murmured. "Still cold… body feels like lead…"
She turned to go again, but his hand caught her wrist.
"Jason—?"
In one sudden motion, he pulled her down. She landed on the bed beside him, startled, and before she could speak, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. His voice was faint, almost childlike.
"This… this is warm."
Then silence. He'd fallen back asleep, face buried in the crook of her neck.
Daphne froze, her breath hitching, heart pounding. His bare chest pressed against her, heat radiating from his skin—his strength, his pain, all of it so close.
"Jason…?" she whispered. No response.
She tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. Her cheeks burned, her heartbeat refusing to settle. And yet… she slowly relaxed into his arms, her own folding around him. For the first time in days, a fragile calm settled in her chest.
"…Sleep well," she murmured, and closed her eyes beside him.
Soon after, Brandon returned with Liam and Malia. Malia, looking exhausted, slipped off to her room without a word. Liam and Brandon continued down the hall, their footsteps light.
As Brandon reached for the doorknob to where Jason and Daphne had laid, he paused-then slowly pushed it open. What he saw made him stop in his tracks.
Jason and Daphne lay fast asleep, side by side, her face resting gently against his chest, his arm loosely around her. A rare, peaceful stillness filled the room.
Brandon exhaled with a small, knowing smile, then quietly closed the door behind him.
"Huh? What's wrong?" Liam asked.
"Nothing," Brandon said quickly.
"Then let's go in-"
Brandon held out a hand, stopping him. "Actually... Daphne said we could go check out the festival and stay for a long as we like."
Liam's eyes lit up. "Really?! Let's go!"
"Hey-whoa, slow down," Brandon chuckled as Liam dragged him out the door. He glanced back at the closed room one last time, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, before following Liam into the night.
The sun barely crested the horizon when Jason stirred. He blinked groggily, body heavy with residual heat-but something felt... off. Too warm. Too soft.
He glanced down-and froze.
Daphne lay curled against him, her breath steady, her fingers gently tangled in his shirt. His chest rose and fell slowly, conflicted. He stared at her longer than he should've-then, silently, carefully, he slipped away and stood.
His fever had broken. He put on his jacket, ran a hand through his hair, and made his way downstairs.
That's when he saw them-Brandon walking in through the front door, Liam fast asleep on his back.
Jason's eyes darkened instantly. He strode across the floor and grabbed Brandon's collar.
"You're just getting back now?" he growled, eyes sharp as knives. "Do you have any idea what could've happened?"
"I-"
"Save it," Jason hissed. "Leaving him with you was a mistake."
He released Brandon, who caught his breath just as engines roared outside.
SUVs.
Black, armored.
They skidded to a stop, surrounding the building.
Malia and Daphne rushed in, alarmed. "What's going on?!" Malia asked, panic rising.
"They found us," Daphne whispered, terror in her voice.
Jason didn't hesitate. He rushed to the door, slammed it shut, and yelled, "Everyone-DOWN!"
A storm of bullets shattered the windows, tearing through furniture and walls. Glass rained down as everyone hit the floor. The noise jolted Liam awake.
"W-what's happening?!" He cried out.
Brandon shielded him with his body. "It's okay, I got you, buddy. Stay close."
A voice echoed through a megaphone outside-Aiden.
"Hand the boy over. We don't want blood-just the kid. You're surrounded. There's no escape. This is your final warning. If we come in, everyone dies."
Jason's fist clenched. "Damn it...!"
He crawled over to the others, his voice low but fierce. "Malia-do you have a back passage, anything hidden?"
She nodded, eyes wide with fear. "Y-yeah, under the storage room."
"Good. Take it. You, Liam, Daphne, and Brandon-you all go."
Daphne shook her head. "Wait, what about you-?"
"I'll hold them off," Jason said coldly, already checking his ammo. "They won't follow if I make them bleed first."
"What are you saying?!" Malia snapped, her voice tight with fear. "You can't hold them off alone-there's too many out there!"
Jason didn't flinch. "I've handled worse. This isn't your fight. Take them. Get out."
"I'm staying," Brandon said without hesitation, stepping forward.
Jason turned to him, calm but firm. "No. Someone needs to protect them. That's your job now."
"But big bro, you can't-" Liam started, eyes brimming with fear.
Jason turned his head, just enough to say without looking, "I made my choice the moment they came for him."
"Why's Sir Aiden doing all this...?" Liam choked out, tears streaking down his cheeks.
Jason froze. "Wait... did you say Aiden?" he asked sharply, eyes narrowing.
Liam nodded, voice shaking. "He's the one leading them..."
Jason's mind clicked instantly. Aiden... that name... where have I-
Before he could finish the thought, a hail of bullets tore through the walls. Wood splintered, dust erupted, and instinct kicked in. He tackled Liam to the ground, shielding him with his body as the chaos erupted around them.
"Get down!" Jason growled, scanning the room. His pulse spiked. That name-Aiden-was more than familiar. And if it was the same person he was thinking of... this went deeper than any of them knew.
Outside, Aiden's voice thundered through the speakers.
"Last chance. Hand him over-or we burn it all down."
Jason's eyes narrowed. "Go. Now!"
Daphne choked back a sob, tears already streaming as she took Liam's hand and turned toward the hidden passage. Malia hesitated-then suddenly crawled back to Jason, grabbing his hand tightly.
"Don't you dare die, Jason. That's my last wish."
Jason gave her a rare, quiet smile-equal parts fire and resolve. "I don't die easy."
Malia stared at him a second longer-then nodded and turned, disappearing into the tunnel with the others.
Now alone, Jason stood slowly.
The building creaked around him, bullets still echoing in the distance. He walked to the center of the room, the weight of silence heavy. He rolled his shoulders once, then reloaded his pistol, calm and steady.
Outside, the enemy forces prepared to breach.
Inside, Jason closed his eyes, exhaled through gritted teeth, and braced himself. The air was thick with smoke and tension.
The enemy breached-steel boots crashing through the door, rifles raised, sweeping the room like predators hunting prey. Jason was gone from sight.
Bang!
A single shot rang out-one man dropped with a hole in his skull. Chaos erupted.
"AMBUSH!"
Gunfire exploded in all directions. Muzzle flashes lit the dark room like lightning in a storm. Jason moved like a phantom, rolling out from behind cover, snatching up a second weapon from a fallen body. He fired relentlessly-quick, clean, surgical.
But then-
Click. Click.
He ducked behind cover as bullets shredded the space around him.
"HE'S OUT-TAKE HIM!"
Jason bolted across the hallway, glass and debris raining around him. He vaulted over a broken table and crashed into another guard, knocking him out cold, stealing his weapon mid-motion. Still bleeding from earlier wounds, he gritted through the pain and kept going.
Meanwhile, outside-
Aiden and Bon stepped into the hallway as more guards swarmed the house.
"Sir, the boy's gone. No trace. They must've used the hidden exit."
Aiden's eyes narrowed. "The passage Nanali spoke about. Storage room. NOW-before they're out of range!"
"YES SIR!"
He motioned Jinx. "Go with them. Don't fail."
Back inside, Jason was still fighting like hell-taking shots, dodging fire, and hitting back harder. He rolled behind a wall, only to be face-to-face with Bon walking calmly through the storm, untouched.
Jason raised his pistol immediately.
She stopped just a few feet away, unfazed. "Well... this seems a bit unfair. You've got a gun. I've got... charm."
Jason's finger stayed on the trigger. "Keep talking. I'll put one through your head."
Bon smirked. "Tempting. But you won't. You're surrounded."
Jason's eyes flicked around-then down. Red laser dots danced across his chest.
He exhaled, smirked faintly. "Heh... you win this round."
He raised his hands slowly, pistol still in one, fingers tight around it. The guards rushed him-one drove a rifle butt into his knees, forcing him to collapse. His pistol hit the floor.
A second guard stepped forward, pulling out handcuffs.
Big mistake.
In a blur, Jason twisted up, grabbed the guard's sidearm, spun him into a chokehold, and jammed the barrel against the guard's skull.
"Nobody move!" Jason snarled, sweat and blood running down his face. "One step, and I'll paint this room red with this guy's blood!"
The room froze. Fingers hovered over triggers. The tension snapped like wire ready to break.
Jason's glare was fire, his breath heavy-but steady. "Now let's talk."
"Go ahead." Bon's voice cut through the tension like a blade-cold, unshaken. "Pull the trigger. One life is a small price to pay. But you and I both know... you're boxed in. Surrounded. All you'll accomplish is adding one more corpse to this floor."
Jason's jaw clenched, the muzzle of the gun trembling slightly against the guard's temple. His grip tightened-finger almost on the trigger.
But then...
Clack.
The gun slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a dull thud. He released the hostage and slowly raised his hands.
Two guards rushed forward, grabbing Jason with force, yanking his arms behind him roughly and securing him in cuffs. He didn't resist-but his eyes never lost that dangerous glint.
Suddenly-
CRACK!
Aiden's fist slammed into Jason's jaw with brutal force. Blood splattered from Jason's mouth as his head snapped to the side.
But he didn't drop.
He turned back, slowly, with blood trickling from his lips and that same cold, merciless stare locked on Aiden. No words. Just silent fury.
Aiden stepped back, shaking his hand with a wince. "Damn... You've got a solid jaw," he muttered, flexing his fingers. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that."
He straightened his jacket. "Take him away. Make sure he doesn't die before we get what we want."
Two more guards gripped Jason harder, dragging him out as his boots scraped against the floor.
Aiden turned to another soldier. "What's the status on the kid?"
"Confirmed. They used the passage beneath the storage. Squad three is already in pursuit."
Aiden smirked. "Smart move... but it won't matter. They're rats in a cage."
Bon watched Jason being hauled away, her eyes narrowed. "He's dangerous. Make sure they don't underestimate him."
Aiden nodded. "Oh, we won't. But let him fight if he wants... it'll make breaking him that much more satisfying."
Outside, the storm rolled in-black clouds covering the skies, and the hunt had just begun.