A naked bulb shone brighter than the afternoon sun’s glare, mimicking a searing hot day, under a scorching hot sun.


    The warmth stirred Marr from her slumber, slathered in perspiration. Stifling a yawn, she scratched her rat’s nest of bed hair, sitting up. “Is it morning already? My body feels like it was taken apart and rearranged.” She rotated her shoulder, shaking off the grogginess.


    “Now, now, take your time,” said Lilith, soothingly. “I hooked you up with an IV and had you rest for a bit. The last mission was… a fine mess.”


    “What do you mean?” asked Marr, her expression hardening.


    “Bluntly put, we lost Juke.” Lilith hung her head, biting her lip.


    The bed bound assassin paused for a brief moment, her eye twitching involuntarily. “Huh? What about the mission? Did Yang get taken out?”


    “Yeah. Seems like Azrael and Juke took out a Yang member each, and in turn got decimated. By the time I had arrived, Azrael was awake, though he had no recollection of what had happened after the ceiling collapsed. I was hoping you could shine a light on the mystery, perhaps if there was someone else there, that night?”


    Scratching her dishevelled nest of hair, she cocked her head to the side. “Last thing I remember is taking out an army of Yang’s hired guns and Juke fighting against a brunette chic. Next thing I know, I’m lying here.” Marr felt a blow detonate deep within the pith of her belly, bursting forth and moistening her face. Gingerly touching her fingers to her cheek, a rivulet of emotions broke out, blurring her vision. “Juke w-was d-done in… Why…?”


    Extending a hand, Lilith gripped her shoulder. “Join the rest of us downstairs whenever you’re ready.” She held Marr a moment longer, her grip tightening with a gentle squeeze. The silence hung heavy in the air, like a funeral shroud.


    Assassins don’t usually get burials. It wasn’t in their custom, not when most demons went down a killer’s path, and met unnamed ends. Especially when your mask doesn’t mean much. Or you don’t even don one.


    Lilith’s face was turned away, as she extracted her fingers. She took her leave, allowing Marr to be with her thoughts. Thoughts that she wasn’t sure, she wanted to spend time with.


    Marr hung her head, choking back sobs caught in her throat. She couldn’t help but quake. Her body, a temple to shivers. Blinking back the floodgate of tears, a precipitous scene flooded her memories, wiping the slate clean of what she thought of assassins and masks.


    She could vaguely hear Juke speak, moments before his head went rolling. His words were cut short by sweeping magenta strands that brushed past him. Strands just having brushed past her, comforting an avoidable death, through hollow words and meaningless warmth.


    Clenching a fist, she struck the bed. Rage smouldered beneath her tear-streaked visage.


    At the kitchen table, Nakta sat with his head in his hands, pressed by a weight heavier than what he was used to shouldering.


    On the opposite end, Raen looked despondent, her wounds dressed up in clean white linen.


    Azrael sat between the two, possessed by the sudden urge to shift about than stay still. Beads of sweat rolled down his brows, trapped like a fly caught in a web.


    In spite of his situation, a fleeting memory flashed through the redhead’s mind. He remembered the time he had shared his first meal at the same table, a distant recollection from when he had led a different life. The gravity of the current situation lured his gaze towards a simple mug placed on the table, beads of condensation rolling off its surface. An involuntary twitch betrayed the emotions churning beneath his skin, urging a need for control amidst the turmoil. He wiped away the condensation accumulated on the mug’s surface, sliding a coaster under the ceramic. It served as a lingering reminder of the order kneaded into him. A habitual urge he’d come to adopt.


    “It’s all your fault, damn gutter rat! Only if you hadn’t messed up–” Nakta shoved the mug off the table, sending the shards flying. Toppling his seat over, he threw himself at Azrael, rolling over the tiled ground.


    “Why do you always have to be like this!?” dissented Raen, with a grimace.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    “Damn you!” Nakta seethed, grabbing Azrael by the collar. Coming out on top of him, a maelstrom of animosity congealed into malice. He let loose his balled fists, pummelling into the redhead, in a fever pitch.


    “Give it a rest, Nakta!” Raen fired a shot off her uninjured hand, cutting through the one-sided fistfight. “When will you grow up, you damned brat!? Azrael joined us the latest, but he’s more mature than you, despite the adversity he’s been wrung through. Do you think you could’ve handled the hell he’s experienced, the way you are?”


    “That doesn’t matter,” said Nakta. His bloodied fists raised above Azrael’s bruised face, breathing raggedly. “You lied and dragged him into your fuckin’ mess and had him save your arse. But in reality, you wanted to slug him one too, didn’t you? After all, he let that lizard turd get away.”


    Gunsmoke smeared the air, blasting Nakta off Azrael. Back against the oven, he swallowed back a surge of bile touching his lips, narrowing his gaze at Raen.


    “Did I hit a sore spot?”


    “How did you find out?” she asked, boiling over.


    “A little tip I salvaged from your pilot.” He slid a sly wink, rising to his feet. “Worth the penny, I would say.”


    “Would killing me end your worries?” asked Azrael, wincing. “I could keep bitching about the way the two of you messed up whatever missions you dragged me on.” His gaze shifted from Nakta to Raen, narrowing his own eyes.


    “Fair,” said Raen, biting her lower lip. “In fact, I owe you one, Azrael. But I won’t forget what you did, or rather what you chose not to do.”


    “The temperature’s been turned to boiling here,” interrupted Lilith, walking through the kitchen entryway. Parting a sigh, she rested her arms on her hips, a weariness seizing her frame. “It’s finally time then.”


    Azrael raised a questioning eyebrow but decided to keep to himself.


    “How about we call it quits?” Lilith brushed a length of magenta off her face, a placid expression painting her features. “My stronghold is meant to give young assassins a base they can call home till they find a place they belong to. A single slip-up could cost them their life, but it gives them a chance to right the shitty hand they’d been dealt.”


    “For that Lilith, I and rest of us will forever be grateful to you,” said Raen.


    “Likewise.” Nakta’s voice perked up, steeped in a bitter undertone. “But since that piece of filth is staying here,” he continued, gesturing towards Azrael with a thick finger, his face contorting with disgust. “I can’t bear to breathe the same air as him. It’s absolute bollocks.” With resolve in his steps, he rose to his feet, storming past both the bruised redhead and his mentor. “Take care of yourself, Lilith. I’ll reach your level one day; sooner than you think.” He took his leave, his anger seething with every stride he took.


    Lilith stood stock still, watching Nakta’s departure with a melancholy glazed gaze. She had hoped for a different outcome, but she understood the weight of the paths each one of them had chosen.


    Raen touched Azrael’s and Lilith’s shoulders with a gentle brush. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “My path lies elsewhere, and I can’t allow this place to hold me back.”


    Raen followed Nakta’s footsteps, leaving the kitchen and the people within, behind. In the wake of their partings, the stronghold appeared emptier, as if the bonds holding them together at one point had been torn asunder.


    “Y’all couldn’t keep those packed up suitcases hidden from me anyway.” Lilith nodded in remembrance, her eyes fixated on a point long past the horizon.


    “It was inevitable.” Marr’s voice carried a sense of resignation, carefully descending the stairs, struggling to keep her balance while lugging an IV pole along. “We can’t stick around and play house forever.”


    Despite his own injuries, Azrael reached out to her. “Marr,” he said, wincing with a jab of pain. “Let me help you.”


    She flashed him a warm smile, waving him off. Her gaze snapped to Lilith, and the warmth was drained from her pale complexion, faster than a blade to the gut. “I should have prepared a little bag of trinkets too. But since I didn’t, just dispose of whatever I leave behind. None of that matters anymore.” Ripping out the needle in her vein, she walked past, leaving the IV behind.


    Lilith was frozen in place. She felt like a brewing tempest had stormed past.


    The redhead tried making sense of the situation, his attention torn between Lilith and the slammed door. “I didn’t know you guys had bad blood.”


    She nodded, her eyes moistened, as she looked at Azrael’s bruised face. “Yeah, neither did I.” Sniffling, she clutched her sides. Her gaze lingered on the shut door.


    A vague sliver of light was welcomed in, scattering across the dark expanse, looming ominously, from the shadow cast upon the hallway. It was like a great chasm had swallowed the bonds binding them all, till there was nothing but an abyss that remained, its looming maws, agape.


    “Wasn’t patching up wounds your thing?”


    A small, wistful smile flickered across his face. “It is. But I thought I’d allow it to linger around, a bit longer. I want to feel the sting, otherwise the wounds close up too quick. Move on, too quick.” He gritted his teeth, eyeing the scattered remains of the mug across the floor.


    “Suit yourself. By the way, you planning on leaving sometime soon?” She managed a weak scoff, her gaze lasered in on the door past the hallway. Or perhaps, past the barrier dividing them, to the people who existed outside the simple length of wood.


    “Nah. I’m sticking around for the long haul. Since all your proteges left, there isn’t anyone around to train me. Unless a certain high-ranking assassin wishes to take me in, under her wing...” Azrael flashed a wink, switching it up from his usual eyebrow raise.


    “What a troublesome lad.” Lilith rolled her eyes, resting her elbow against Azrael’s shoulder. “For someone eager to flee my embrace, you sure settled down quick.”


    “After those mishaps for missions, I have a helluva lot more to learn.”


    “My training methods are rigorous and brutal. Don’t come crying to me later.” Patting the redhead’s back with a thump, the stronghold was slathered in a heavy downpour. The din deafening the silence, was heftier than a funeral shroud.