Hannah and Luke had discussed it at length.

Despite Hannah's protests, they agreed that she would stay back at the university to keep an eye on Cathelyn while Luke would undertake the mission.

Their logic was based on two principles: catching the killer was the top priority; and Luke didn't want Hannah to risk being spotted by the Lab if she followed him, even at a safe distance.

Luke had been contacted by Selim to join him on a mission under the guise of 'proving his worth.'

This suggestion stirred confusion in Luke.

For the past two months, he had been working for the Lab, and his instructions had always been clear: focus solely on his current mission.

He pondered why this sudden change of plans occurred.

The only reason he could think of was his lack of progress.

He had yet to apprehend the killer, he had no solid leads, and the body count was starting to pile up. Luke knew the consequences of failure; if the Lab began to doubt his worth, it would equate to a death sentence.

Regardless of the mission he was being dragged into, it was crucial that he dispelled any doubts about his value.

At five in the morning, Luke was dressed in black with a light jacket and boots. He carried a long drawing tube slung over his shoulder, which housed his sword.

The sword, given to him by the commander of a great phantom army, was the only weapon he wielded. He had brought it with him to the university and buried it near his apartment building.

This was the first time he'd dug it up since the mission started.

He stood in an empty alleyway filled with a thin mist, creating a distance between him and the opposite sidewalk. Selim had told him to wait there, at their usual rendezvous spot for Luke's reports.

He didn't have to wait long. The distinctive sound of a struggling engine approached.

Two headlights appeared through the fog.

The orange car, driven by the abrasive Selim, materialized.

He halted in the middle of the narrow road and gestured Luke to approach.

Luke moved forward and tried to open the front door of the car, but Selim blocked him.

"No, get in the back," he said.

Luke swallowed his frustration but kept quiet; now was not the time for a conflict.

He closed the front door, opened the rear one, and sat on the worn leather seat, placing his drawing tube beside him.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Selim glanced at him in the rearview mirror, amused. "You must have misunderstood, we're not going to a drawing class today. I asked you to bring a weapon," he remarked, his tone a mix of seriousness and mockery.

Luke rolled his eyes. "It's my sword," he clarified.

Selim laughed, "Listen, you do you. I don't care if you die trying to cosplay on a battlefield," he said, his smirk clear even in the rearview mirror.

After this comment, he started the car again.

Luke decided to ignore Selim's taunts.

His main focus was to succeed in the mission, prove his worth, and gather information on the Lab.

"Keep your enemies closer," Luke thought to himself.

The journey took two hours, made longer by Selim's eccentric choice of music. He played old tapes of a strange music that Luke had never heard before.

Multiple singers chanted in different rhythms in an unknown language, accompanied by a string instrument that produced deep, haunting notes.

Luke found the music so unpleasant he wondered if Selim had intentionally played it to get under his skin.

A test before the real mission, perhaps.

The car began to slow down after about twenty minutes of following a winding path through the trees. There, in the distance, Luke saw a group of men and several armored vehicles parked.

The trees gave way to a barren field in the middle of which was a small, gray building, all made of granite, or stone.

A large metal door barred access to this small fortress.

The car stopped.

"Get out, we're here." said Selim.

Luke took his tube and got out of the car. It was still early but the sun was already hot.

A dozen or so men were bustling around the vehicles and the building. They were dressed in black tactical gear, with bulletproof vests and assault weapons. A patch on the left arm of these men showed an open hand with a red skull in the center.

"This is my unit, go see the guy inside the armored vehicle parked over there, he'll give you your equipment." said Selim before walking away to inspect the building.

Luke obeyed. He walked towards the armored vehicle, the men he passed looked at him curiously.

Each of them had a tattoo on the back of their neck, the same as Selim but with only three lines.

"Each of these men is at a similar level to mine, so..." Luke swallowed. "If that's true, we stand no chance against the Lab..." he concluded, feeling suddenly insignificant, like a fish plucked from a bowl and tossed into the vast ocean.

Close to the armored vehicle, Luke admired it. A large, black 4x4, fortified with a metal grill for a bumper, a windshield protector, and a few small windows at the rear.

This vehicle, he realized, was meant to ferry troops in conflict areas—a clear testament to the gravity of the mission, reinforced by the highly trained and well-armed men scattered around.

At the rear of the vehicle was an open door.

He knocked on the metal to call for the man inside.

"Hmm? Oh, you're the rookie the captain brought in. Alright, here's something for you," the man said. Luke could barely make him out in the dimly lit interior, though he could see a plethora of gear.

Suddenly, the man emerged, bald and mustached, his cheeks hollow and his eyes squinting against the sun's glare.

He handed Luke a black outfit and a bulletproof vest, matching the others'.

"Put this on. What weapon do you need?" he asked.

Luke accepted the gear and shook his head.

"No need, I'm set," Luke assured, gesturing at his drawing tube.

The man eyed the tube, his gaze empty, mouth slightly open.

"Damn... And you're the one they want to send to the front line? The captain is merciless..." he mumbled sympathetically.

"Wait, the front line?" said Lug, thinking out loud.

"You didn’t know? Maybe that's for the best." said the man, motioning for Luke to look a bit further away.

Luke turned his head and saw a young man from the unit, a bit apart, throwing up.

"He was also chosen to be on the front line, a rookie as well. It's going to be a bloody mess." said the armorer in a morbid tone.

These words echoed in Luke's head, over and over.

"They're trying to get me killed," he thought.