SICARII

The oppressive silence of the tunnels seemed to stretch endlessly as Taizen, Rachel, and Mionara pressed deeper into the underground labyrinth. The flickering torchlight cast long, shifting shadows on the damp stone walls, their uneven surfaces giving the illusion that the shadows themselves were alive. Every now and then, the faint plink of water dripping onto the ground broke the silence, but it only seemed to amplify the tension.

Weapons in hand, the three moved cautiously. Taizen's grip tightened on his Katana, his palms slightly sweaty. He stole a glance at Mionara, who looked tense but determined, his free hand flexing anxiously near the hilt of his sword. Rachel, however, seemed unnervingly calm, her sharp eyes darting from shadow to shadow. Her steady demeanor didn't just come from experience—it radiated authority, a quiet assurance that she'd been through worse.

"You're awful quiet," Taizen muttered under his breath, aiming the comment at Rachel.

"Talking won't keep us alive," she replied curtly, her voice low. "Eyes up. Focus."

The atmosphere was suffocating, like the tunnels themselves were pressing down on them. Suddenly, Taizen stopped in his tracks. "Wait," he whispered, his eyes catching a glimpse of something on the right wall. There was a door—old, metal, and slightly ajar. Its very presence seemed out of place, as though it didn't belong in the damp, decrepit tunnels.

Rachel's gaze snapped to the door. She tilted her head slightly, listening, before motioning for them to stop. "That's odd," Mionara murmured. "Why would there be rooms down here?"

"No idea," Rachel replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But we're not leaving it unchecked. I'll go in first. You two follow immediately. Weapons ready."

Without another word, Rachel pushed the door open and rushed inside, her dagger drawn. Mionara followed, his sword raised, with Taizen close behind. They moved like clockwork, covering one another as they scanned the room.

The space was unexpectedly large, lit dimly by the faint glow of small, scattered devices on the floor—packet lights, still flickering faintly. They were evidence that someone had been here not long ago. The room smelled faintly of sweat and metal, and its contents were sparse but unsettlingly personal: a desk with scattered papers, a single chair that faced a cracked computer monitor, and a sleeping bag tucked against one corner. The contrast between the room's stark utility and its signs of recent habitation made the air feel heavier.

"What the hell is this place?" Taizen asked, his voice uneasy.

"Looks like part of an underground base," Rachel replied, stepping forward cautiously. She gestured toward a second door on the opposite side of the room. "They've been using this area. It's not abandoned."

Mionara crouched by the desk, his eyes narrowing at the scattered papers. "They left in a hurry," he noted, pointing at the disarray. "They didn't even take their lights."

Rachel nodded. "Stay alert. If they left recently, they could still be close. We keep moving."

The group advanced slowly, moving from room to room. Each was eerily similar: hastily abandoned sleeping quarters, storage areas with broken crates, and occasionally, crude weapons leaning against the walls. Bloodstains streaked the floors in some places, dark and crusted, telling silent stories of violence that had occurred within these walls.

"This place gives me the creeps," Taizen muttered as they approached another door.

"Good," Rachel said flatly. "Fear keeps you alive. Just don't let it paralyze you."

Taizen exhaled sharply, his unease growing. He reached out to open the next door, his hand steady despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The hinges groaned as the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit room.

At first, it seemed empty, but then his eyes caught the figure slumped in the far corner—a young man tied to a chair, his head hanging low, his chin resting on his chest. His clothes were torn, and his body was limp, but there was still a faint rise and fall to his chest.

"Guys," Taizen called urgently, his voice cracking slightly. "I think this is him—Walker's son!"

Rachel was at his side in an instant, crossing the room in swift, deliberate strides. She crouched beside the young man and gently lifted his chin, revealing a pale, gaunt face. She pressed two fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse.

"It's him," Rachel confirmed. "He's alive, but barely. Unconscious."

Mionara stood guard at the door, his swords ready. "Can we move him?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not yet. He's breathing, but weak. If we move him too fast, we could make things worse."

Taizen knelt beside her. "What do we do, then? Just wait for them to come back?"

"No," Rachel said firmly. "We find a way out of here, and we do it quickly. But we need to be careful. If they've set traps—or worse, if they're already on their way back—we can't afford any mistakes."

The three exchanged grim looks, the weight of their mission pressing down on them as the eerie silence of the base wrapped around them once more.

Mionara crossed his arms and frowned, his tension palpable as he glanced toward the darkened tunnel. "We can't just sit here and wait for him to wake up," he muttered, his voice low and urgent. "The enemy could be heading back right now." Without waiting for approval, he pulled a water bottle from his belt and splashed it over the unconscious young man's face.

The reaction was immediate. Mr. Walker's son jolted upright, gasping for air as if he had been drowning. His eyes fluttered open, their piercing blue color catching in the faint light of the room. His head snapped from side to side, taking in the unfamiliar faces around him with a mixture of confusion and fear.

"Who… who are you?" he croaked, his voice hoarse.

Rachel crouched beside him, her tone steady but urgent. "We're here to take you home. Let's get you untied."

Her hands worked quickly, freeing the ropes that bound him. As the last knot fell away, the young man slumped forward slightly, but when Rachel and Taizen helped him to his feet, he stood with a surprising steadiness.

For someone who had been tied up and held captive, his frame was striking. Slim, but with defined muscles that hinted at combat training, he moved with an unconscious precision that spoke of experience. His long, blonde hair was tangled but somehow added to his intensity, and his sharp blue eyes scanned the room with a mixture of relief and suspicion.

"Who kidnapped you?" Taizen asked, stepping back and studying the young man carefully.

The boy rubbed his wrists, his face clouding as he tried to recall. "I don't know who they are," he admitted, his voice stronger now. "But they're skilled. Very skilled. They called themselves TAK… but I've never heard of them before."

At the mention of TAK, Rachel and Taizen exchanged puzzled glances, their brows furrowing.

"TAK?" Rachel repeated, her voice tinged with confusion. "Never heard of them either. Sounds like some rogue group."

Taizen frowned. "Doesn't ring a bell. Are you sure that's what they called themselves?"

But behind them, Mionara's reaction was far more telling. Though his face remained neutral, his hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white. He took a half-step back, as if trying to distance himself from the conversation. For a brief second, his typically calm demeanor cracked—his jaw tightened, and his eyes darted downward, shadowed by an expression that could only be described as dread.

Rachel and Taizen, caught up in their confusion, didn't notice.

"Heartless, you said?" Taizen pressed, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

The young man nodded. "They didn't care who I was or what leverage they could use. They just wanted to make their point."

Meanwhile, Mionara shifted in the background, his silence louder than any words. His pale complexion and the slight tremor in his movements betrayed his thoughts, but he quickly recovered, straightening his back and forcing his features into an unreadable mask.

Rachel glanced over her shoulder briefly. "Mionara, you good back there?"

"Yeah," he replied quickly, too quickly, his voice just a little too tight. "We should keep moving. This isn't the place to stand around talking.

Rachel raised a brow at his clipped tone but didn't push further. Taizen, preoccupied with their next move, didn't notice the exchange at all. As Rachel turned her focus back to their mission, Mionara cast another glance at the floor, his pale features betraying the storm that brewed beneath the surface.

Inwardly, he seethed. TAK… why? Why are they involved here? The thought left an icy weight in his chest, but for now, he said nothing.