The Breach
Two months into the second year of college, life had settled into a routine. For Nox, that meant waking up at 4:00 AM sharp, a rooftop workout under the slowly brightening sky, the metallic taste of early dawn air sharp on his tongue. Coffee brewed in silence, smoke curling from his lips as he stood by the window, watching the world stir below. Then came the shower, the usual attire—oversized black t-shirt, modified combat pants, fitted boots. The mask. The cap.
By the time Leo and Ash stumbled into the kitchen—half-asleep, arguing over cereal flavors—Nox had already prepared three plates of breakfast. He didn't join them. He never did. He left their plates on the table and moved on, invisible in plain sight.
Classes passed without incident. Art lectures, sculpture assignments. The trio had been working on a sculpture themed "The Lost City"—Ash and Leo were crafting whimsical structures, half ruins, half dreamscapes. Nox worked in stone. Clean. Precise. It was more of a weapon than a piece.
He'd been watching them.
Leo's delusion was deepening.
A part of Nox thought, cruelly, that Leo was trying to convince himself he loved Ash just to justify this fantasy world he'd carved out of denial. The way Leo smiled, the glances, the blushes—none of it reached deep. It was all surface.
But Nox didn't comment. He just watched. And hacked.
11:00 PM – Art Building Courtyard
They were walking back to the dorms after a late night of work. The sculpture stood completed in the workshop behind them, Ash humming as he munched on chips. Leo walked beside him, laughing.
Nox had stayed behind briefly to scan through the college's internal server.
Something was off.
Dozens of new staff IDs had appeared. No record. No background. No pattern.
He cross-checked them with external systems. Most were ghosts. Fabricated.
This wasn't a glitch.
It was a breach.
An ambush.
He looked up from his tablet. Leo and Ash were ahead—unguarded. None of Leo's secret guards were nearby.
Nox's jaw tightened.
He shouldn't interfere. It wasn't his problem. Leo's family had trained security. But still…
Maybe it was the way Leo laughed.
Maybe it was something in him, some buried version of the girl who once wanted to see someone smile like that.
He moved.
Quick, silent steps. He reached Leo's side and without a word, grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"There's an ambush," he whispered, voice low and sharp behind the mask. "Tell Ash you forgot something. Send him back."
Leo blinked. "What—?"
Nox's eyes cut through him. "Now."
Leo turned. "Ash, I think you left your sketchbook in the workshop."
Ash cursed. "Oh god! That's due tomorrow. Go ahead—I'll grab it and catch up."
He ran back.
Leo looked at Nox. "You're sure?"
Nox didn't answer. He reached into his waistband and handed Leo a gun. "Safety's off. Stay close."
They turned down the final left pathway toward the dorms.
Seven masked men emerged from the shadows.
Black gear. Tactical boots. Military posture.
Leo didn't ask questions.
They moved.
The first attacker lunged. Nox ducked, sweeping his leg out, catching the man's knee and flipping him into the pavement. The crack of bone echoed.
Another came at Leo. The boy twisted, dodging under the strike, and fired a clean shot into the attacker's leg. A scream. Another shot—chest. The man crumpled.
A blade whizzed past Nox's cheek. He caught the wrist attached to it, spun, and drove his knee into the attacker's gut before slamming his elbow into the side of his head.
Leo was moving like he'd trained all his life. He had. But not for this.
Nox watched the way Leo's movements mirrored his own—graceful, instinctive. He understood violence too well for someone trying so hard to escape it.
Four down.
Then came the last two.
Nox engaged one directly—knife versus fists. Metal hissed in the night air as the two danced through blows. The attacker was good. Clean strikes. Smart footwork.
But not good enough.
Nox ducked under a slash and drove his shoulder into the man's chest, sending him back. A snap of his leg to the neck and the attacker dropped.
Then the seventh man appeared—silent, fast.
A cheese wire looped over Nox's neck from behind.
Leo turned at the sound of choking.
Nox's hands grabbed at the wire as blood began to drip beneath the mask.
No panic. Just calculation.
He kicked back, foot connecting with the attacker's shin. Another hit to the knee. He twisted, using the attacker's balance against him, flipping him forward, snapping the tension. The wire loosened.
Nox didn't pause.
One punch. One knee. One twist.
Blood sprayed. The body fell.
Silence.
Leo stood frozen, the gun still raised. Blood dripped from Nox's neck. His mask was still on. The cap shadowed his face.
Ash's voice rang out in the distance. "Leo? You guys coming?"
Nox turned to Leo.
His violet eyes were cold, unshaken.
"Go. Call your father. Tell him to clean this up."
He didn't wait for an answer.
He walked into the night.
Cut to: Underground Safehouse – 12:30 AM
Nox stood shirtless in front of the mirror, the mask on the counter beside him. His fingers worked quickly, stitching the bleeding gash across his neck. He hissed once, but didn't stop.
The flickering fluorescent light made his reflection look older than he felt. His eyes were tired.
She didn't know why she helped.
Maybe she didn't want to lose that bubble of illusion Leo had yet.
Maybe, even in this body, some part of Nyx wanted to protect what Leo had built—even if it was a lie.
He finished the stitches, and pulled the mask back on.
Tomorrow would come.
But tonight, he would watch the city burn quietly, just out of sight.
End of Chapter 48