The alley was quiet. Too quiet.
The cloaked stalker spun on instinct, legs already shifting to bolt toward the alley mouth—
But before he could take a step, a cold whisper sliced the air behind him.
Shhhhnk.
Selene emerged from the shadows, her blade glinting with silvery menace."Going somewhere?" she murmured.
The man froze—too late.
With a flick of her wrist, The light twisted into ethereal chains, half-magic, half-metal, slamming into him with a sound like shattering iron.
Clang.
Chains—metallic, yet eerily fluid—materialized from the air, snapping forward and wrapping around the man's limbs. They slammed him against the wall with brutal force. Cracks spiderwebbed through the stone.
He choked, limbs straining, but the chains only grew tighter, humming with an unnatural pulse.
Selene stepped closer, golden eyes faintly aglow. "You're not going anywhere."
Noa's boots crunched softly against the damp cobblestone as he stepped forward. Without a word, he ripped the mask from the man's face.
"Alright then," he said coolly, eyes narrowing. "Let's start simple. What's your name, Mr. Stalker?"
The man chuckled, blood already dribbling from his lips. "You think I'll just spill it?" he sneered. "I'm a professional."
His smirk was laced with arrogance. "But you two? Amateurs."
Noa gave an innocent, almost boyish smile."Oh, I know I'm an amateur," he said lightly, glancing at Selene. "But she's not."
Selene tilted her head, eyes studying the man like a cat eyeing prey. She said nothing.
Noa turned back to the prisoner and asked, calm and curious,"So… how do I get answers out of this guy?" A pause. "Start by ripping his nails off?"
The man's smirk twitched—just a flicker.
Selene finally spoke, voice like frost."That'll loosen his tongue. But slow. Start with the fingers. Nerves run deep there."
Noa crouched beside the man, eyes gleaming under the alley's dim glow.He pulled a thin, curved knife from his coat — not his usual blade, but something smaller. Crueler.
"You'll have to forgive me," he said, testing the edge with his thumb. "This is my first time."
The man glared. "Do your worst, amateur."
Noa didn't answer. He gripped the man's hand and slammed it flat against the wall. The chains held it there, trembling.
Then, with no warning, Noa dug the blade under the thumbnail and pried.
"GHHHHH—!"
The man let out a ragged scream, body bucking as blood spilled down his wrist in hot rivulets.
He panted, pain carving lines into his face… then, somehow, he started laughing.
"You really… hah… think that'll break me?" he rasped. "I've had worse in the pits."
Noa's eyes lit up. A slow grin spread across his face.
"Oh… good," he whispered. "That means I get to learn."
He looked over his shoulder. Selene was watching silently, face unreadable.
"See?" he said, almost cheerful. "He's a tough one. I can practice."He turned back to the man, crimson blade gleaming. "Let's move to the next one."
The prisoner flinched—just barely. That crack again.
Noa leaned in, voice low and hungry.
"Thanks for not talking right away. This is turning out to be very educational."
Selene stepped closer, her tone precise."Now… go for the eyeballs."
Noa blinked once. Then he grinned."You're really something else," he murmured, equal parts admiration and delight.
He turned back to the prisoner, who now stared wide-eyed, all bravado gone.
"Wait—" the man rasped, breath hitching. "You're bluffing. You wouldn't—"
Noa gently ran the tip of the blade along the man's cheekbone, drifting toward the corner of his eye.
For a moment, something flickered in Noa's eyes—not guilt, but memory. Then it vanished.
"I said this was my first time," he whispered. "Didn't say I had a conscience."
Selene's golden gaze was unreadable.
"Go under the lower lid," she advised. "It'll come out easier that way."
Noa nodded like a student. Adjusted his grip.
The man began thrashing. Panic finally taking root."NO—NO, WAIT! I'LL TALK, I'LL—"
The chains held.
"This is how professionals do it, right?" Noa said sweetly. "Thanks for the lesson."
Then the blade moved.
The alley rang with a wet, sickening sound as steel met flesh.The man screamed—loud and guttural—as Noa twisted the knife with calm, focused fingers.
A final tug, and the eye came free, nerves and vessels snapping like wet thread.
Blood poured down the man's face.
But before he could wail—
Noa jammed the blade into his mouth. Not deep. Just enough.
"No screaming," he said, cold and unblinking. "Start talking. Before I take the other one."
The man trembled. His remaining eye locked on Noa's.
Selene folded her arms. "Any time now. He's got thirty seconds before shock sets in."
Noa twisted the blade in his mouth—just a hair.
The man gagged. Then nodded frantically.
Noa withdrew the knife, giving him space to breathe.
"Name. Motive. Employer," he said quietly. "Say it fast. Or say goodbye to depth perception."
"I—I don't have a name," the man gasped, blood bubbling. "We're spies… of the Queen."
Noa said nothing. Let the silence stretch.
"I was sent… to watch you. Because you spoke with Princess Faelina."
Noa tilted his head. "So?"
"To kill you," the man breathed. "If you… if you were working with her."
Noa blinked. "For talking to royalty?"
The man coughed. "The girl's mother died young. Queen Selkira, the second wife, wants her own son on the throne. Faelina's just… in the way"
Noa's smile faded. A heavy silence followed.
Noa smiled again, slow and sharp."Now that is the most interesting thing you've said all night."
He glanced at Selene. She hadn't moved. But something in her eyes had.
"Politics," Noa muttered. "Always so bloody."
He leaned close.
"But just so we're clear…" His knife tapped the man's cheek."If I find out you're lying? You've got one eye left."
He stared into the ruined face.
Then he chuckled—soft, almost kind."So," he said, crouching again, "let me tell you what I do understand."
The man flinched.
"You're a spy. Sent to kill me. But you broke too quickly."
The man's remaining eye widened. "W-What? No—!"
"You didn't scream when I took your nails," Noa said, voice low. "You twitched. I made it hurt. But it didn't break you."
He leaned closer.
"But your eye? I went easy on it. You cracked."
Noa's gaze burned now.
"Whoever sent you wants me dead—and wants the Queen and I to destroy each other. Right?"
The man didn't answer. He didn't need to. Noa saw it in the fear behind that last eye.
"Thought so," he murmured. Then his blade flashed.
Pop.
The man convulsed as his last eye was taken. Blood poured down his cheeks. He screamed—tried to, but Noa was faster.
He gripped the man's jaw, whispering in his ear.
"So. Who's the real mastermind?"
The man writhed, choking on pain. But Noa didn't let go.
"Don't lie," he hissed. "Next time, I carve out your tongue."
Selene's eyes narrowed slightly, but not in disapproval. She was... studying him. Her gaze lingered on Noa, longer than usual. Not in judgment… but as if calculating something new
Noa's knife hovered.
"So go on," he said. "Impress me."
The man, bloodied and broken, grinned weakly. "D-Do… your… w-worst…"
Noa tilted his head, smiling wider.
"With pleasure."
He reached into the man's mouth. Not to silence. One by one, he pressed the knife's tip against each tooth.
Not fast. Not messy.
Methodical.
"See," Noa said softly, "I'm not in a hurry. I like learning. And right now… I'm learning how long you can keep secrets without a tongue, without teeth, without even pride."For a moment, something flickered in his eyes — not guilt, but memory. Then it vanished.
The man gagged, trembled—but still didn't scream.
Not yet.
Noa leaned close, whispering into the hollow where an ear had been.
"You want to be a professional? Good. But even professionals break. And when you do?"
His grin turned hollow.
"I'll know."
Selene watched from the dark. Expression unreadable. But her eyes never left Noa. And in that blood-slick alley… A terrifying truth took root:
Noa was learning.