- Elia Carter:
The office smelled like stale coffee and old paper. The air was thick with a mix of cigarette smoke—probably lingering from someone's earlier visit—and the faint scent of damp metal. The blinds were half-drawn, letting in just enough daylight to cast long shadows across the cluttered desk.
I stood near the door, flipping through the files in my hands while Raine took a seat across from Captain Denton. Her back was straight, her hands folded neatly in front of her, but I could tell by the way her fingers tapped against her arm that she was tense.
The captain leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple as if we'd already started giving him a headache. "Your mission is simple," he said gruffly, tossing another file onto the desk. "You two, along with your team, will be responsible for guarding those four prisoners. Watch them, make sure they don't get into any trouble and report any unusual behavior directly to me."
Raine raised a brow. "So, we're glorified babysitters?"
Denton exhaled sharply, clearly unamused. "Call it whatever the hell you want, Archer. But you'll be keeping them in check, escorting them if they ever leave their cells—bathroom, medical checks, cafeteria. They don't move anywhere without one of you watching them. Understood?"
I barely heard the rest of his words. My attention was still on the file in my hands.
Damon Voss.
That name. That face. The way he had looked at me when we locked eyes earlier—it was unsettling.
There was something about him. Something I couldn't place. His silence wasn't just quiet; it was calculated. The way he sat in that cell, perfectly still, perfectly composed… It was like he knew something we didn't.
I glanced at the photo paper clipped to the file. Long black hair. Red eyes. Even in a still image, he looked haunting.
"Elias," Raine's voice cut through my thoughts.
I blinked, looking up at her. She had a file open in her hands, her brows drawn together in confusion. "Look at this," she said, turning the page toward me. "What do you see?"
I skimmed the documents, scanning for any information on why these men were locked up. There were details—names, ages, places of birth. All of them were from the Undercity. But then I saw what she was pointing at.
There was no listed crime. No records of convictions. No evidence.
I flipped through my file. The same thing. "There's nothing here," I muttered.
Rain turned her sharp gaze toward Denton. "Captain, what exactly did these men do?"
Denton let out a sigh, rubbing his fingers over his chin before leaning forward. "Look, you two—" He hesitated for a second before shaking his head. "Some things aren't meant to be in reports."
Raine narrowed her eyes. "Meaning?"
Denton's expression hardened. "Meaning that the higher-ups don't need evidence to know when someone is dangerous."
I exchanged a look with Raine before turning back to him. "So, you're saying they were arrested just for being from the Undercity?" I asked, my voice colder than I intended.
Denton leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the desk. "You think this is a joke, Carter? You think we need some neat little list of crimes to justify keeping them locked up?" His voice was low, firm.
"These men aren't just anyone. They're not petty criminals. They're high-ranking members of the Undercity's worst organizations. Mafia bosses. Gang leaders. Dangerous people. They don't need to get their hands dirty for us to know what they are."
Raine scoffed. "You're basing this on what? Rumors?"
Denton's jaw tightened. "We have confidential intelligence on them. Information that's not for public access."
"Right," Raine said flatly. "So we're supposed to believe that these men are criminals, but we're not allowed to see the proof?"
Denton's patience was wearing thin. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled sharply. "Believe whatever the hell you want, Archer. But orders are orders. You'll do your damn job."
Raine didn't look convinced, and neither did I.
Still, we nodded. Because what else could we do?
The captain dismissed us shortly after, and as we stepped out of his office, Raine let out a low hiss under her breath. "This is bullshit."
I glanced at her. "You think they're innocent?"
She ran a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated. "I think we don't know anything. And that's the problem."
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well, whether they are or not, we're stuck with them now."
Raine didn't respond immediately. She just stared down the dimly lit hall, her jaw clenched.
"Come on," I said, nudging her shoulder lightly. "Let's go meet the rest of the team."
She let out a slow breath, then nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."
And with that, we walked down the hallway, our minds heavy with more questions than answers.