Evie realized she was trapped inside NOCTURNE’s safehouse at exactly 1:17 in the morning.

“This feels illegal,” she announced.

Nobody looked concerned.

Steel shutters slammed down over the lower windows with heavy metallic crashes. Somewhere deeper in the building, locks engaged one after another.

Chunk.

Chunk.

Chunk.

Evie stood in the middle of the kitchen holding instant noodles.

“…Why does your building sound like it’s preparing for nuclear winter?”

Kane sat at the counter scrolling through his phone.

“Lockdown protocol.”

“That sounds fake.”

“It’s not.”

“What happened?”

“Possible breach.”

Evie stared at him.

“You said that way too casually.”

Kane shrugged.

“Tuesday energy.”

Across the room, Luca looked up from cleaning a handgun.

“It’s Friday.”

“Emotionally, it’s Tuesday.”

Evie slowly looked around the kitchen.

Armed mercenaries everywhere.

One guy sharpened a knife while eating cereal.

Another slept on the couch with an assault rifle across his chest like a weighted blanket.

Nobody seemed stressed.

That part bothered her most.

Like this happened often.

Like heavily armed lockdowns were just another annoying household chore.

Evie pointed around the room.

“So this is home for you people?”

Luca looked offended immediately.

“We have a coffee machine.”

“That’s your defense?”

“It grinds fresh beans.”

Kane nodded solemnly.

“That’s the closest thing to happiness most of us have.”

Evie opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

“…Wow. Okay. That was too sad to mock immediately.”

A woman walked into the kitchen carrying a medical kit and a mug.

Dark braid.

Sharp eyes.

Expression like she’d been disappointed since birth.

She took one look at Evie.

“Oh. You’re the mechanic.”

Evie pointed at herself.

“You say that like I escaped containment.”

“You probably did.” The woman drank her coffee. “Sofia.”

“Evie.”

“Sofia hates everyone,” Kane explained helpfully.

“I hate everyone specifically,” Sofia corrected.

Evie liked her instantly.

Another lock slammed shut upstairs.

Evie flinched.

“How long does lockdown last?”

Kane checked his watch.

“Couple hours if we’re lucky.”

“…And if you’re unlucky?”

Nobody answered.

Great.

Fantastic.

Evie shoved a hand through her curls.

“This is amazing. Love being trapped overnight inside a heavily armed trauma bunker.”

Luca looked up.

“That’s honestly the nicest thing anybody’s ever called this place.”

Kane pointed at him.

“See? She gets us.”

“I absolutely do not get you.”

A beat passed.

Then Evie frowned slightly.

“…Why do you people own twelve knives but one spoon?”

“Minimalism,” Kane said immediately.

“Psychopathy,” Sofia corrected.

Somewhere deeper in the safehouse, electronic music suddenly exploded at full volume.

Then shouting.

Then:

“YOU BLUE-SHELLED ME YOU TREACHEROUS BASTARD—”

Evie blinked.

Silence.

Then she slowly turned toward the hallway.

“…What was that?”

Kane looked exhausted instantly.

“Oh no.”

Luca muttered:

“They started without us.”

Another scream echoed through the hall.

“I WILL END YOUR BLOODLINE, MARCUS.”

Evie stared.

“…Are your mercenaries playing Mario Kart?”

Nobody answered.

Which answered everything.

Five minutes later, Evie stood frozen in the entertainment room doorway.

Four heavily armed men sat around a giant TV.

Mario Kart blasted through surround speakers.

One mercenary leaned violently into every turn like his body could influence the vehicle physics.

Another screamed death threats over Rainbow Road.

At least six guns were visible.

Somebody had tactical grenades beside a bowl of pretzels.

Evie looked genuinely emotional.

“Oh my God.”

One guy pointed furiously at the screen.

“HE CHEATED.”

“That’s literally the game, Dominic.”

“NO, THAT WAS PERSONAL.”

Evie slowly looked at Kane.

“You’re telling me the most terrifying mercenary group in California spends lockdowns hate-criming each other over Nintendo?”

Kane rubbed both hands over his face.

“You understand now why none of us can maintain healthy relationships.”

Evie walked in and dropped onto the couch.

“Move.”

Nobody argued.

Honestly empowering.

Luca tossed her a controller.

“You know how to play?”

Evie looked offended.

“Sweetheart, I grew up in foster care. Mario Kart was survival training.”

Ten minutes later—

“YOU ABSOLUTE COWARDS,” Evie screamed while launching a red shell. “COME CATCH ME LIKE MEN.”

The room exploded instantly.

“You targeted me on purpose!”

“You deserved it!”

“Kane stop driving into walls!”

“I’M UNDER PRESSURE.”

Laughter bounced off concrete walls while rain hammered outside.

For the first time since entering the building, the safehouse stopped feeling cold.

Stopped feeling military.

It felt…

normal.

Weirdly normal.

Evie leaned sideways against the couch cushions laughing while Dominic accused Luca of “kart-based terrorism.”

Then she noticed it.

That quiet feeling again.

Like somebody watching from the edge of the room.

Her smile faded slightly.

She turned toward the doorway.

Cassian stood there.

Black clothes.

Black gloves.

Same unreadable face.

But different tonight.

Not softer.

Definitely not softer.

Just—

less far away somehow.

Like he’d been standing there awhile.

Watching.

The room slowly quieted.

One by one, the mercenaries noticed him.

Kane panicked instantly.

“Oh no.”

Nobody moved.

Evie looked between them.

Then back at Cassian.

“…You guys know Mario Kart isn’t classified information, right?”

Silence.

Then Cassian spoke.

“Who’s winning?”

Dead quiet.

Luca looked ready to cry.

Kane whispered:

“Holy shit.”

Evie stared at Cassian for two seconds.

Then slowly grinned.

“Oh, this is adorable.”

Cassian’s expression flattened immediately.

“There it is,” Kane muttered. “Moment ruined.”

Evie held up the controller.

“You playing?”

“No.”

“You scared?”

“No.”

“Interesting. That sounded scared.”

The entire room stopped breathing.

Cassian looked at her.

Steady.

Silent.

Evie smiled wider.

“Come on, Ghost. Show us your emotionally repressed Mario Kart skills.”

A long pause.

Then Cassian walked forward.

Slowly.

And sat beside her.