Madrid: 06:05 AM
The light bled into the room like a knife peeling away the night. Nox stood shirtless at the narrow window of the hotel, cigarette burning between his fingers. His back muscles shifted as he adjusted his stance, staring down at the street three floors below.
He'd already memorized the neighborhood. Every alley, every fire escape, every entry point into the Ortega estate four blocks east. He hadn't slept. He didn't need to. Not yet.
On the dresser, his burner buzzed once.
Message: CONFIRMED. Reyes cleared for internal access. Dinner invite secured. Be ready.
Nox exhaled. One more piece in place. Tonight, he'd eat with the man he was planning to kill.
He turned away from the window and stripped the gun down for the third time that morning. Every movement was clinical. Every breath, measured.
Campus: Late Morning
Ash groaned dramatically, flopping onto the picnic blanket like a fish thrown back to sea.
"If I die of heat, tell my parents I died doing what I love," he moaned.
Leo glanced over the rim of his sunglasses, a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. "Which is?"
"Procrastinating."
"You're painting."
"Yeah, but not happily."
Leo chuckled, the sound low and rare. His canvas was already taking shape—abstract lines in muted reds and slate greys. Ash's, by contrast, was a chaos of color that somehow worked.
Ash leaned up, squinting at Leo's strokes. "Yours looks like a sad war."
"Yours looks like a clown had a seizure."
Ash gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you, sir, it's called 'explosive joy.'"
Leo dipped his brush again, hiding a real smile. The kind that made his face look too soft for someone born into blood.
Madrid: 12:47 PM
Nox stood in the elevator of Ortega's estate, flanked by two guards. He wore a dark charcoal suit, the sleeves rolled slightly to reveal veined forearms. His mask now was the perfect security consultant: polished, distant, competent.
"You speak four languages?" one of the guards asked, eyeing him sideways.
"Five," Nox corrected.
The elevator dinged. The door opened. Ortega's mansion was modernist concrete and sharp art, the kind that said wealth in a whisper.
"Mr. Reyes," Ortega said, arms spread in faux warmth.
Nox shook his hand. "Thank you for having me."
"I believe in knowing the men who protect me. Come, try the paella. It's a family recipe, minus the family."
Nox followed him in, already noting the laser sensors near the hall corners. He logged them with every bite of saffron rice.
Campus: 3:03 PM - Art Center
The canvas was abandoned. Ash had decided painting was for chumps and had instead dragged Leo to the shaded benches near the fountain.
"You ever wonder what he's really doing?" Ash asked suddenly, sipping melted iced coffee.
Leo didn't answer at first. His sunglasses hid the flicker in his eyes.
"No," he said eventually. "Nox is Nox. He shows up, does his work, disappears."
Ash leaned back, arms behind his head. "I think he's a ninja. Or a vampire."
Leo huffed. "He has a reflection."
"You've seen his face?"
Leo paused. "No."
Ash grinned. "Vampire."
But Leo wasn't smiling. Not really. He was thinking about the message he got that morning from one of his father's men:
"Your roommate's trail ends in Madrid. No outbound flights. No aliases picked up. Ghost."
Madrid: 06:39 PM
Nox stood near Ortega's wine cellar, speaking low into his phone. It was one of Ortega's own guards, now in his pocket.
"Tuesday. Midnight. Main generator goes out for thirty seconds. That's your opening."
"Understood. Keep the key under the west garden statue. Payment will come after."
He hung up and walked back into the hall, blending once more into the walls.
He passed a mirror. Paused.
What he saw wasn't Reyes. It wasn't Nox, either. Just a shape designed to move through walls, to kill without echo.
Campus: 8:00 PM - Dorm Movie Night
"I can't believe you picked this," Ash groaned, mouth full of popcorn.
"You said comedy," Leo replied.
"Yeah, but this is British comedy. That's like, dry toast with sarcasm on top."
Leo shrugged, clearly unbothered.
The couch was soft, the lights dim, the world quiet. For a moment, Leo forgot the message. Forgot Madrid. Forgot blood.
Ash nudged him. "You good?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
Leo looked at him then. Saw the concern that didn't suit Ash's usual flippant tone.
"I'm fine, Ash. Really."
Ash stared a second longer, then nodded. "Okay. But if you get all broody again, I'm staging an intervention."
Leo laughed softly. "Deal."
Madrid: 01:03 AM
The estate was asleep. Guards rotated lazily, drunk on routine.
Nox slipped from the west side shadow, down into the garden. He found the statue. Retrieved the key. Moved like water across stone.
He breached the inner hall in under twenty seconds.
Ortega's bedroom was two flights up. Cameras blind for another 18 seconds.
He paused at the first landing, letting silence settle around him.
Every movement, precise. Every step, surgical.
He wasn't a man tonight.
He was a weapon.
Campus: Midnight - Rooftop
Leo lit another of Nox's cigarettes. He didn't inhale. Just watched it burn.
Ash was asleep again, controller still humming beside him.
The city stretched out beyond the campus, unaware, indifferent.
And the ember of the cigarette glowed like a fading star.
End of Chapter 34