Volume 1 – Chapter 14: Into the Abyss

[April 23 – 7:15 AM]

The streets were unnaturally quiet. Too quiet.

It wasn’t that nice, peaceful kind of silence — it was the kind that made your skin prickle, that made every instinct in your body scream at you to turn back. But we didn’t. We kept moving, step by step, heads down, watching every shadow.

I could still feel Rika’s lips ghosting mine. It stayed, warm and real, even with the cold morning condensation prickling my skin. But there wasn’t time to think about it. Not now.

Our plan — if you could even call it a plan — was foolhardy. Insane. We had no armaments, not a single ally, no insight into what we were really facing. Just a hunch. A sense that the people who saw us wouldn’t stand idly by as we became too visible.

Rika tugged her hood over her head and looked around. “You think they know about us already?”

“They knew we were at the building,” I said. “They knew about the file. If they wanted to take us out quietly, they’d have done it by now.”

Her jaw tightened. “So they’re waiting.”

“Or they are asking something of us.”

A wind swept down the street, kicking up the dust and dry leaves. A sheet of gray hung in the sky above, filtering everything into a dull wash of gray.

We pulled onto one of the main roads — one of the few still showing signs of life. A handful of people ambled, heads down, glancing away. No one wanted to linger.

It was an ideal place for someone to go unnoticed.

“Just don’t look around too much,” Rika muttered. “If we pretend we’re looking for them, they’ll simply be more careful.”

She was right. We had to act like we weren’t hoping for anything. As though we didn’t know the eyes were watching.

I deliberately relaxed, maintaining my pace. But my thoughts were racing inside. Who were these people? Why were they watching us instead of killing us? And more challenging—what the hell was Project Eclipse?

[April 23 – 7:30 AM]

We arrived at a tiny café on the corner of the street. It was one of the few places still operating, the aroma of stale coffee doggedly clinging to the air. The neon sign buzzed and flickered, desperately trying to shine through the sunlight.

Rika looked at me uncertainly. “Here?”

“We have to act normal,” I said. “If we just keep wandering into things, it’s too obvious.”

She sighed but didn’t argue. We stepped inside.

The café was quite empty, except for a weary barista working behind the counter and an old man by the window, peering into his cup as if it has all the secrets of the universe.

We sat in a corner with a good view of the entrance. Rika leaned forward, speaking softly. “Now what?”

I glanced around. Nobody was seemed to be listening to us. But that didn’t mean we weren’t being monitored.

“We wait,” I said.

Rika scoffed. “For what?”

“For them to make a move.”

She reclined in her seat, arms crossed. I could tell she hated this. The waiting. The uncertainty. She was ultimately the kind of person who wanted action, who wanted to control how the situation unfolded. But at this moment, we had neither.

Minutes passed. Then more.

I drummed my fingers on the table, attempting to drown out the discomfort gnawing at my stomach. What if we were wrong? What if no one showed up?

Then the bell over the door tinkled.

A man walked in.

He was tall and dressed suitably and carried himself with a confidence that made him appear significant, if still not anything special to look at. He didn’t look around. Didn’t hesitate. He headed straight to the counter, ordered a coffee, then went to sit — three tables away from us.

Close enough to listen.

Rika’s body tensed. I felt her eyes searing the side of my face, silently wondering, Is this them?

I wasn’t sure. But there was something not quite right about him.

He seemed too controlled in his posture. His movements too precise.

I took a slow breath. Then, seemingly without looking at him, I muttered. “We’re not alone.”

Rika’s fingers twitched a little, but she did not react otherwise. “What do we do?”

I thought for a moment. Then, I made a choice.

“We provide them with something to work with.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Kaito—”

I tilted myself enough to make eye contact with the man.

His response was low-key — but I noticed it. The almost imperceptible flicker of recognition. How he wrapped his fingers tightly around his cup.

He knew who we were.

I didn’t break eye contact. Instead I took a risk. Stupid, even.

I nodded. A silent invitation.

For a moment, there was no reaction.

Then, the man stood up.

Rika’s hand went under the table — reaching for a knife she didn’t have.

The man approached us and stopped just next to our table. He put down his coffee, then said, in a steady, even tone:

“You guys have no idea what you’re getting into.”

Silence.

Then Rika spoke, and her voice was made of steel. “But then enlighten us;”

The man chuckled softly. “Careful, girl. “Too many questions, directly, 43 can get you killed.”

I had my fists clenched under the table. “Who are you?”

He ignored the question. Instead, he dug into his pocket. My muscles tightened, but he didn’t draw a weapon.

He pushed a small, black USB drive across the table.

“Project Eclipse,” he said in a low voice. “If you want to know the truth… start here.”

Rika eyed the USB as if it were about to blow up. “Why do you want to give this to us?”

The man smiled, but it was not a warm smile. Only something cold. Calculated.

“Because you no longer have a choice.”

He turned to leave.

But before he left, he waited, just for a moment.

A flash of something crossed his face — pity, perhaps. Or warning.

Then, in a whisper I almost didn’t catch, he breathed:

“Should have run when you had the chance.”

And then he was gone.

So Rika and I sat there and stared at the USB. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved.

Because I knew deep down, as did he — this wasn’t just a file.

This was a door.

And once we opened it … there was no going back.

[April 23 – 8:00 AM]

The café seemed colder than it had before.

Rika sucked in a sharp breath and rubbed her temples. “Well. That wasn’t ominous at all.”

I took the USB and turned it in my fingers. It was heavier than it should have been.

“I’ve looked at what’s on it,” I said.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Not here.”

No. Definitely not here.

We needed a safe place. A location where no one would be able to follow us.

A place where we could pretend, at least for a little, that we were still in charge.

We got up, and hurried toward the exit.

Because we weren’t safe.

Not anymore.

So deep down, I knew…. we never had been.