Eyeing a container at the edge of her polished table, Lilith played with the frayed edge of her cuticle. She was plumped down in her swivel, leaning back. She took in the collective calm, rubbing her wounded hand. It barely throbbed but the cut beneath, scarred her beyond the puckered flesh. It was proof enough she was headed in the right direction.


    Strange to think it hurt less when I was out with Azrael last night.


    Exhaling, a rap of knuckles broke through her line of thought. Her fidgeting ceased. She went from her laidback posture to sitting up straight. With the push of a button, she slid the door open and invited Azrael inside.


    “Thanks again, for last night,” he managed, wearing a smile. “And sorry, once again, about the hand.”


    “Don’t worry.” She rose to her feet. “I had pushed you. Hard. And it’s nothing more than a simple flesh wound. It’ll heal in time. Now, I would say you’re ready for the next stage.”


    Raising an eyebrow, he folded his arms over his chest, loosening a sigh. “That sounds more troubling than comforting.”


    A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She pulled up a sealed package, resting by the edge of her desk. “I got you something.”


    “Oh, that’s nice. I hope another batch of assassins isn’t stuffed in it.”


    “Nah, it won’t bite.” Mulling over her words, she added, “hopefully.” Lilith bequeathed the dubious redhead with a mischievous wink, igniting his curiosity with a sprinkle of caution.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Shaking free of his doubts, he gave in to eager anticipation, tearing away the wrapper enveloping the package. Beneath the lining, a glossy silver box adorned with a tightly secured latch was revealed. Unlocking the seal, he threw open the top cover, unveiling the sumptuous velvet lining within. Nestled upon its bed of opulence rested a mask, fashioned in the likeness of an ethereal creature’s skull. Its vacant eyes peered into the depths of his soul.


    “For real?” Azrael gently slid the mask out the protective casing.


    “It’s your official mark of becoming an assassin. A mask and a codename are essential for any true assassin.”


    “Oh, sweet!” He held the mask up to the light, his fingers caressing the fabric with reverence. “I’ve always wanted to be an assassin with a name, like the masked ones. Good thing you didn’t settle on the bird mask.”


    Lilith scoffed, loosening a peal of laughter. “That would have been something to see. The dark scavenger wouldn’t be bad.”


    Azrael parted a smirk, unable to hide his mirth.


    “While the mask itself is not a necessity,” she continued, catching her breath. “A codename is crucial, especially for higher-profile missions.”


    “Do I get to choose my own?”


    Lilith inched towards a shelf by the door. She reached for a of bottle stashed amongst sheaves of paper and stationary. A harmless object, barely garnering notice. Meanwhile, Azrael fumbled with the mask, pulling it over his face and adjusting the slits over his eyes.


    “How about Death?” he managed in a muffled voice.


    Her lips curled into a knowing smile, in spite of herself. “Suits you perfectly.”


    Azrael turned towards her, with a pair of beaming eyes. “And what about yours?”


    “Lilith.” Her voice was a scant whisper, nearly lost in the rustle of motion, as she flashed the bottle over his face. The silent hiss of compressed gas smothered the redheaded assassin, weakening his balance with a kiss that struck his temple against the ground.