INT - EVAH'S APARTMENT - 11 PM
"We're going to jump?! This is the fourth floor, Erion!" Her voice quivered as she sat on the bed, her hands gripping the blanket in a futile attempt to steady herself. Panic was rising in her chest, making each breath harder to take.
"Jump? Are you out of your mind, idiot genius? We're using the fire escape." Erion snapped, his eyes fixed on the door as if he were preparing for the next assault. He stood between her and the only way out, a wall of calm determination.
Just a minute ago, you were acting like a gentleman. Now you're calling me an idiot? The sharp contrast in his behavior confused her. His professionalism seemed to vanish the moment danger crept in, replaced by a ruthlessness she wasn't used to. The edge in his voice wasn't just for the enemies outside—it was for her too.
The air in the apartment was thick, heavy, almost suffocating. Every muffled sound from outside sent a chill through her spine. She could almost hear the killers moving, their footsteps nearing as they closed in.
Erion, however, seemed unfazed. He was in a different world, eyes locked on the door, his body tense, poised like a predator. The calm confidence in his stance was dangerous—he had already shifted into full battle mode, and the lethal focus he exuded didn't leave room for softness. Not even for her.
How did we even end up like this?
EXT- EVAH'S APARTMENT BUILDING- 10:40 PM
The rain drizzled steadily under the cover of the dark night. Erion parked in the underground lot, determined to keep Evah from getting drenched.
The car came to a halt, the engine cutting off. The dim glow of fluorescent lights barely illuminated the area, but the oppressive darkness outside was tangible, seeping in despite the artificial light.
Should I ask him to come inside? Evah's mind raced.
No, that would be weird.
But if I don't offer, that's rude. He's still my superior...
She struggled with her thoughts, caught in an awkward dance.
What kind of society is this?
Finally, she settled on one course of action.
Just be formal. He's your boss.
"Thank you very much for your help!" she said, giving a small bow.
"I'll get going now." She unbuckled her seatbelt and quickly moved to open the door.
"Aren't you going to invite me in? Maybe for a coffee?" Erion's grin was teasing.
"No! Don't have any! Bye!" Evah's words tumbled out as she hurriedly dashed from the car and into the elevator.
Erion chuckled, watching her retreat. Back to being rude again, huh? He couldn't help but feel amusement stir within him. Watching her run away was almost comical—like she was trying to escape a maniac.
Everyone respects me in CGO. Always Major General Erion. But Evah was different. She wasn't intimidated, and she wasn't impressed. He couldn't figure out if she saw him as an ally or a threat.
He turned the car key, starting the engine, but before he could pull away, something in the rearview mirror caught his eye.
An elderly couple entered the elevator behind Evah, followed by two men in uniform.
They're not from here.
His mind worked quickly, replaying every person who lived in this building. Those two men weren't on the list.
Erion prided himself on knowing everything about the people around him—backgrounds, connections, even allergies. It all came in handy, as he always said.
If I take the stairs, I can catch them before they hit the fourth floor.
He weighed the risks. If they spot her with someone, they might back off. But if things are critical, they won't hesitate to press on.
In an instant, he killed the engine, leapt from the car, and made for the stairs.
INT- 4TH FLOOR OF THE BUILDING
The elevator doors slid open, and there, standing in front of Evah, was Erion.
"Erion?" Her voice faltered. How...? How did you... both elevators should be full!
He flashed a playful smile. "Hi, Bunny! Can you forgive me now? I took the stars for you." His voice was sweet, almost teasing, as he smoothly took her hand in his.
She froze for a moment, utterly confused. Without saying a word, she let him guide her down the hallway toward her apartment. Why is he holding my hand? The question screamed in her mind, but no words came out. She was paralyzed, unable to move or speak.
Her cheeks burned, a deep flush spreading across her face. Minutes dragged by, and she couldn't bring herself to look at him. What is happening? she wanted to shout, but the words were trapped.
She finally managed to speak, voice shaky. "What are you saying?" She forced herself to ask, hoping her tone sounded normal, but even to her, it sounded strained.
Erion's gaze was fixed ahead, his face expressionless. There was no trace of awkwardness, no sign that he realized how odd the situation was. His lack of reaction only made her embarrassment worse.
"They're going to kidnap you," he said flatly, without a hint of emotion.
Evah stopped, her heart skipped a beat. What?
"The couple behind us , and the two men... they're around here." He continued walking, not breaking his stride, his fingers still entwined with hers.
Her entire body went cold, and all the other emotions drained from her—leaving only one: fear. She was shaking again, terror crawling up her spine. "What do you mean?" she asked, turning to look behind her. But before she could get a clear view, Erion pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her head to shield her.
"Come on now," he said with a mischievous grin, his tone shifting to something lighter, "Can you really resist me?" In an instant, his expression changed—his playful demeanor turning cold, as though he had become an entirely different person. Evah had seen this happen before, but she knew all too well: everyone could be fooled by Erion's mask. But there is no time for that now.
His words made no sense to her. What do you mean, 'kidnap me'?
Her breath quickened, panic rising.
"Rule number one," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "Don't look at them. If they think they've been spotted, they might do something drastic. If they have nothing left to lose, they could kill everyone here."
Evah felt a chill spread through her, and her right hand instinctively gripped the arm that held her, as though begging for reassurance.
"Are you sure about this, Erion?" She barely managed to whisper, her voice trembling.
"Yes," he whispered back, his voice low and steady. "If they wanted to kill you, one would be enough. But there are four. There might even be more." His gaze flickered to the mirrors at the end of the hallway, keeping an eye on their pursuers.
Two-faced devil. She felt torn—unsure who she should be scared of more: the attackers or him. The calmness with which he spoke about killing people sent a fresh wave of dread through her.
Erion pulled a key from his pocket, inserted it into her apartment door, twisted it open, and locked it behind them. He immediately surveyed the area.
Too small. Too cramped. No place to hide. His mind was already calculating their escape.
Evah's jaw dropped as she realized—she hadn't even pulled out her own key. Did he just...? Her voice caught in her throat. "Why do you have my keys?"
Erion finally released her from his grip and gave her a casual shrug. "Safety purposes. Don't ask." He moved toward the surveillance monitor, already checking the footage.
Still in a daze, she watched him, but he didn't seem concerned with her. His focus was entirely on the screens in front of him.
"How did you have a copy of my key?" Her mind raced, still struggling to catch up with the situation. I feel violated right now.
"Shut up!" Erion snapped, his tone colder than before. "Do you have any cameras set up outside?"
"I do... and I don't," she stammered, walking over to the monitor. Focus, Evah. It's a life or death situation.
She pulled the hair tie from her wrist and gathered her long brown hair into a ponytail, securing it with practiced ease. Then, without missing a beat, she plugged in the keyboard, her fingers flying across the keys. The only sound in the room was the steady tapping of the keyboard, and Erion didn't dare interrupt her. Minutes passed in tense silence, but eventually, they gained access to the building's security cameras.
"Did you just hack the building's mainframe?" Erion's voice was a mix of disbelief and suspicion, his eyes locked on her with a flicker of astonishment. There was a strange gleam in his gaze—something between reluctant admiration and unease, as if he couldn't quite decide whether to be impressed or wary.
"It's your fault!" she shot back, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I got traumatized when your 'minions' dragged me!"
"Stop calling them minions," Erion snapped, his tone sharp. "You work with us now." He turned his attention back to the screen, scanning the live footage.
Evah crossed her arms, her expression unimpressed.
"I could have you arrested for all this illegal stuff. Bugging your friend, hacking into security... who knows what you'll do next?" Erion warned, but it didn't seem to bother her.
His gaze remained fixed on the footage, his face unreadable. "They're not on the frames." His voice had dropped to a quieter, more focused tone. "They know the building's security. We're not safe here. This is a well-planned attack."
Evah swallowed hard, every muscle in her body was tense, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.
"Listen up." Erion's voice dropped lower, more urgent. "We have two choices: wait for them to attack, or escape through the window." He pointed to the single window in the room.
Notes:
The rank of Major Generalholds considerable prestige, sitting as the third highest position in the global hierarchy. Those who attain this rank—or higher—are typically far removed from the day-to-day chaos of combat and strategy. Instead, they spend the majority of their time delegating orders, attending lavish social gatherings, and exchanging pleasantries with other powerful figures. Major Generals from around the world often represent their nations at prestigious conferences and United Nations meetings, which are paraded before the public as critical, high-stakes events aimed at global improvement. The media paints these occasions as secretive and important, suggesting that world leaders are secretly huddling to plan the next steps to make the world a better place.
However, Erion couldn't care less for these carefully orchestrated displays of diplomacy. Rarely, if ever, did he attend such meetings. To him, they were little more than extravagant parties for the elite—an opportunity for the rich and powerful to drink, dine, and discuss matters of little consequence. Erion's disdain for the charade was well known among his peers, and he often dismissed them as nothing more than a circus for the political and economic elite to parade their influence.
Next Chapter: Evah finds herself caught in a deadly confrontation with masked assailants, only to be saved by the enigmatic Erion, whose past and motives remain shrouded in mystery. As they flee to safety, Evah is plagued by doubt—can she trust the man who just killed to protect her? Meanwhile, Erion digs into the shadowy world of a dangerous cult, "Son of the Goddess," uncovering chilling connections to the violence they've witnessed. With danger closing in, Evah is forced to confront the terrifying possibility that she's entangled in something far darker than she ever imagined. Will she survive the secrets closing in around her?