Night in the capital was serene. The full moon stood on the edge of the celestial cliff, keeping watch of the city with her misty gaze.

The moon looked down at Vye through her silvery halo, and Vye gazed back. Some imagined the moon as a guardian, but Vye knew she was merely a spectator. Like the wealthy of this republic, the moon sat in her safe and secluded palace every night, silently observing cruelty unfold in the corners hidden from her light.

It was only nine o’clock. Vye preferred to do her job when the night sank deeper, but the fixer insisted on this hour, so the job would look like a break-in robbery turned wrong.

The target house was magnificent. Marble columns soared to the height of three floors, accompanied by intricate facades and engravings. The tall windows were so clear that they reflected unfiltered moonlight into Vye’s eyes, hinting at the luxurious interior within. The biggest display of opulence had to be the two giant palm trees standing amidst an oasis of exotic shrubs and floras, their vibrant green stood out strikingly against the barren urban backdrop of rock and sand.

Three other men were gathered around the house already, dressed in dark overalls and Stormrunning gear. To be precise, they were modified Stormrunning gear, altered to be more efficient at killing humans.

It was not difficult to spot the ones with real Stormrunning training. The two men in the skull mask and teddy bear mask, despite their vastly different demeanors, both displayed a disciplined precision in their actions. On the other hand, the man wearing a clown mask seemed much more timid and unsure.

Valerian Stormrunners huh? Vye was unfamiliar with the different roles Stomrunners took up, but she knew that only Valerian Stormrunners were trained in hand-to-hand combat and marksmanship. Assassination was an ideal post-retirement gig for them.

“Damn this job, I had to get the neighbor to put my son to sleep,” said the man in the teddy bear mask.

“Shut up about your son, will you? Nobody gives a shit.” The man in the skull mask said while checking his watch. “When will the newbie - ah, speaking of the devil.”

Vye approached the three Valerians. She wore camo contacts that concealed her orange eye color, and she moved with the Valerian composure that she had long learned to mimic.

Skull Mask eyed her up and down. Although he had his face covered, Vye could already see the nasty smile behind his mask, the same kind of smile that too many men had given her. Even a disguised Valerian woman could not escape this.

“Put these on.” Skull Mask threw her a mask and a set of grappling hooks and jump packs.

Vye looked around. She had to get partially undressed to put on the jumppack, and there were no covers around her.

“What, you shy?” Skull Mask sneered.

“Just give her a break.” Bear Mask turned around, signaling the other two men to do the same.

Appreciating the temporary privacy, Vye quickly put on the modified Stormrunning Gear. She brushed her hand against the neat contraptions, mesmerized by the fine texture of the alloy. She had used cheap knockoffs many times in the past, but this one was the real deal.

She didn’t know who the fixer was, but it must be someone powerful in the government.

“Say, guys, why do we wanna kill him?” said the guy in a clown mask. His voice sounded young, no older than Vye’s little brother.

What a pity. He probably started on this path even earlier than Vye did.

“Who knows? He’s some filthy rich Fraxian. I’m sure he got enemies,” said Skull Mask.

“To be fair, his inventions saved Valeria,” said Bear Mask. “Lots of cities would have been wiped out if it weren’t for his tech.”

“Who cares? The only good Fragger is a dead Fragger.”

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Vye’s blood instantly started to boil at Skull Mask’s remark, but she kept her body still. It was not worth it to reveal her identity.

“So who is the fixer this time?” asked Clown Mask.

“Kid, just shut up and do your job,” said Skull Mask. “The less you know the better.”

“He’s got a point,” said Bear Mask. “Eliminating Theo Xeta? In Stormrunner gear? This seemed too much above our pay grade.”

“Whatever. The contact is from some unknown financial service company. I bet it’s a shell corp of the government.”

Bear Mask sighed. He looked around, almost seeming hesitant to continue. However, he made up his mind.

Vye wondered what Bear Mask was like behind the mask. Men with families rarely stayed in this line of work. Was he a freelancer like Vye who was also driven by the pay? After all, this one hit could repay a year of her parent’s debts. Or was he a government agent who truly wished to serve the nation’s best interests?

The clock struck a quarter past nine. Bear Mask took out a device and punched a few buttons. A few dots flickered on the digital display.

“There’s no heat source around the perimeters. All clear.”

“Prepare to deploy cyro and smoke grenades,” said Skull Mask.

This had to be one of the oldest tricks in the book for hunting Fraxians: isolate them from thermal energy and cut out their sight, and they become a sitting duck.

Vye felt a little sickened. This same strategy could be used to hunt her and her family. But a job was a job. It didn’t matter who the target was, as long as the pay was good enough.

“You sure this will work?” Clown Mask, his voice now a little shakey. “Doesn’t this guy make Stormrunning gear and design their Exam?”

“I heard he failed his Stormrunning Exam,” sneered Skull Mask. “Apparently his score was so low he couldn’t even be a police deputy.”

Bear Mask twisted a few more dials, and the display now showed an orange dot situated on the third-floor master bedroom. That was the only remaining thermal signature in the house, emitted from Theo Xeta himself.

Skull Mask pointed his finger upwards, and the group fell in formation. Vye activated her jumppack and ran up the wall.

Once again, Vye was amazed by how satisfying it was to use the Stormrunning gear. The jumppack perfectly synchronized the boosters with Vye’s motion, so wallrunning felt almost no different from running on flat ground.

Using the grappling hooks, Vye anchored herself by the third-floor window. The four of them peeked inside the master bedroom. The dim glow of the night light reflected softly off the polished frame of the mahogany king bed. Theo Xeta was soundly asleep, his thermal signature a steady, unmoving glow in the darkness. Slivers of moonlight slipped through the gaps between the velvet drapes, only to be blocked by the closed door across the room.

Skull Mask held out a smoke grenade. The moment he pulled off the pin, dense, black smoke instantly flooded out of the canister. Vye recognized this kind of smoke. The density and color of the smoke were carefully engineered, capable of blocking just enough light to blind a Fraxian but let a Valerian see.

This was trouble. Vye would not be able to see in this smoke either. Her cover would be blown.

Skull Mask handed the smoke grenade to Clown Mask. He closed his finger into a fist.

Upon this command, Clown Mask leaped into action. In one motion, he shot his grappling hook through the window. The steel claw shattered the glass before grabbing firmly onto the wall across. He threw the smoke grenade by the bed, and in just one second, dark fog permeated the room, suffocating any remaining halo of the night light and moonshine.

Vye felt both awe and pity toward Clown Mask. His fluid movement spoke of a level of experience unfitting for his age.

Clown Mask launched himself into the dark room. Submachine gun in hand, he unleashed a torrent of bullets toward the bed. The mattress erupted into shreds, launching a flurry of cotton and down feathers into the air like a blizzard. The bedframe collapsed with a loud thud before it could be splintered further. The acrid scent of gunpowder, mixed with the odor of burnt fabric, left a bitter aftertaste in Vye’s mouth.

However, something seemed off. There were no screams. The thermal signature of Theo Xeta barely moved.

Clown Mask hopped off the wall and cautiously approached the bed, or whatever was left of it. The smoke from the grenade began to fade, lending Vye a little more visibility. Clinging on the window ledge with sweaty palms, Vye fixed her eyes on the movements in the room, cursing Skull Mask in her head for letting a teenager be the first to go in.

Clown Mask grabbed the tattered duvet and, with a big swing, threw it off the mattress.

No blood. No body. Nothing except a tiny orb emitting heat.

Fuck. It was a trap.

Vye wanted to scream to Clown Mask to run, but she did not wanna give herself away. After a split second of hesitation, it became too late.

From the shadow of the walls, Theo Xeta emerged unscathed, a shotgun in his hands. Before Clown Mask could turn his head, Theo Xeta pulled the trigger.

A loud bang. A volley of pellets blew Clown Mask’s head in half. The mask, now soaked with blood and brain, shattered into pieces. Behind the mask and gore were the remains of a young face, even younger than Vye had imagined. Had he not chosen this line of work, he would probably still be in high school, maybe even in the same class as Vye’s little brother. At a closer look, he could have easily passed as Vye’s brother if not for the blue eyes.

Vye only looked at the face for a fraction of a second before ducking out of the way. Clown Mask’s head fell onto the floor with a smushy plop, and his body followed a second later.

Theo Xeta turned to the window, perfectly aware of the group’s presence. His gaze pierced through the walls straight into Vye’s soul.

“Why don’t you all come out and join the party? I’ve been waiting for you.”