~Crimson Reign's War Room ~
~Night Before the Operation*
The war room buzzed with low conversation and the soft hum of computers. Giant holographic displays cast an eerie blue light over the sleek metal walls, showing tactical maps, convoy positions, and encrypted communication logs. Ivy stood beside the mission board, cross-referencing intercepts, her fingers moving fast over her tablet. Lucian was beside her, sharp-suited, calm, calculating.
Victor stepped forward. "Final phase is locked. Operation to intercept Blackwood's transfer window begins in twenty—"
*BOOM!*
The wall behind the south corridor exploded inward — smoke and shrapnel filled the room.
"Cover!" Ivy shouted, instantly diving behind the reinforced console. Lucian ducked low, gun already drawn.
*An ambush. Inside the heart of Reign.*
Figures in dark tactical gear burst in, firing blindly. *Glass shattered*, alarms screamed, and chaos erupted.
Lucian rose from cover, aimed, and fired — *three clean shots*. Three intruders dropped like dominoes.
Ivy slid across the floor, her boot hooking a fallen rifle, flipping it into her hands. She turned, aimed — *pop, pop!* — her precision immaculate. One attacker lunged toward her; she ducked, twisted, and slammed the rifle butt into his jaw. Blood sprayed. He collapsed.
Lucian saw it, the elegance in her movement, the way she adapted — brutal, fast, like she'd fought in warzones all her life. His lips curled slightly, impressed.
"Move left, Knox!" he called.
She didn't hesitate, trusting his call, flipping behind the overturned steel table. "Nice shot, Reign. Not bad for a CEO."
"Not bad yourself," he said flatly, but his eyes tracked her. Every shot she took landed. Head. Chest. Leg. No wasted bullets.
Another wave poured in — *gas canisters rolled across the floor*. Ivy yanked a flash-filter from her coat and pressed it to her eyes. Lucian did the same. *FSSSHHH!*
*The room flashed white*.
Using the second of blindness, Ivy launched forward, elbowing a man in the throat, catching his weapon mid-air. She spun and fired at the next intruder. *Her movements were ruthless but efficient.*
Victor, bleeding slightly at the temple, crawled toward the fallen data drive. "Protect the server!"
Lucian slid beside him, firing one-handed while grabbing Victor by the collar. "Get to the vault. Lock it down."
Victor nodded and disappeared behind the backup gate.
Lucian turned, now back-to-back with Ivy. "Three left."
"I got eyes on two," she said.
"Make that one," he replied — *BANG!*
They moved as if synced — Lucian provided suppressive fire, Ivy flanked. She leapt over the broken command table, landing on a crouched attacker, knife in hand. A short grunt, and he dropped. Her breath was heavy. Sweat dripped down her temple.
Lucian knelt beside a dying intruder. "Who sent you?"
The man coughed blood, eyes glazed. "Too late... she knows."
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "She?"
Before he could press, the man gasped once and stilled.
Ivy wiped the blood off her sleeve, then turned to Lucian. "That wasn't random."
"No. This was coordinated. An internal breach."
A flickering monitor lit up. Victor's voice came through. "Lucian... Ivy... we've got a problem. There's a mole. Someone fed them our launch window."
Lucian stood slowly. "I want the entire staff scanned. Pull all comm logs. No one leaves."
Ivy exhaled sharply, finally allowing herself to drop to a seated position, still gripping her blade. Lucian glanced over.
"I don't say this often... but you were exceptional."
Ivy raised an eyebrow. "You think I trained for boardroom meetings?"
Lucian allowed himself a brief nod. "No. You trained for war."
Their eyes locked for a moment, intense, silent, understanding.
She broke it first. "Next time, I'm checking your war room security myself."
~Crimson Reign Private Infirmary ~.
*Early Morning*
The lights in the medical wing were low, humming softly in the quiet aftermath. Ivy sat on the edge of the treatment bed, fingers carefully threading a gauze strip through her bloodied knuckles. Her black combat shirt was torn at the shoulder, a thin cut still crusted with dried blood. She didn't flinch — pain was familiar. Manageable.
Across the room, Lucian sat in silence. His once-crisp white shirt was now stained with smoke and grime. A medic dabbed a shallow gash on his temple, but his eyes never left Ivy.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
The silence wasn't awkward — it was heavy, charged with adrenaline echoes and everything unsaid.
Victor entered quietly, eyes flicking between the two before setting down a report. "Perimeter's locked. All exits are sealed. We're running biometrics and comm scans. Still no trace of the mole."
Lucian nodded. "Leave it."
Victor hesitated. "Sir...?"
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "I said leave us."
With a short bow, Victor left, leaving the room quiet again except for the soft beeping of the vitals monitor nearby.
Ivy finally broke the silence. "They were trained. Whoever sent them — they knew how to hit a war room. And they knew I'd be there."
Lucian leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "They didn't come for me. They came for you."
Her gaze flicked to him, cold but calm. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Something twisted subtly in his expression — frustration, curiosity, something deeper. "You make a lot of enemies, Agent Knox."
She gave a faint, bitter smile. "Only the dangerous ones."
He looked at her more intently now, studying the quiet steel behind her words. "What are you really running from?"
Silence again.
Ivy looked away, jaw tightening. "You wouldn't understand."
Lucian stood and crossed the room slowly. "Try me."
She stood too, facing him — tension thick between them, but her voice was low. "You live in steel towers and war rooms. I've lived in cages with glass floors and nowhere to fall but down. My enemies wear tuxedos and father their own pawns."
Lucian didn't respond immediately. Then, quietly: "You're bleeding again."
She blinked. "What?"
He nodded toward her hand. The gauze had slipped.