The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting eerie shadows across the underground parking garage. The scent of oil and rubber clung to the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood—a reminder of the violence that often lurked in the city's underbelly. Kenzo adjusted his black gloves, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings for any unwelcome company.
Hana stood beside him, her expression impassive as she pulled a compact mirror from her pocket, dabbing at the light bruise on her temple. Her fingers moved deftly, fixing stray strands of her cropped hair before snapping the mirror shut. "We don't have all night," she murmured.
Kenzo smirked. "Relax. This has to be perfect."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. The plan was simple in theory but required precise execution. They needed access to the police station's archives—specifically, Raka's case files. For that, they had to infiltrate a heavily guarded system without raising alarms.
Kenzo reached into his backpack, pulling out a neatly folded police uniform. It belonged to a lower-ranking officer who, thanks to Hana, wouldn't be remembering much of tonight.
A few minutes earlier, they had found the unsuspecting officer on a smoke break near the garage entrance. Hana had stepped forward, her gaze locking onto his as she whispered a few soft words. His pupils dilated, his shoulders slumped, and his lips parted in brief confusion before his expression turned blank. A moment later, he turned and walked away as if nothing had happened, his mind wiped clean of the past hour.
"That should hold for a while," Hana had muttered, her voice tinged with mild exhaustion. "But don't waste time. My influence isn't permanent."
Now, Kenzo shrugged into the stolen uniform, buttoning it up swiftly. The fabric was stiff, unfamiliar, but it would serve its purpose. He adjusted the name tag—"Officer Raditya"—before tucking the stolen ID into his pocket.
Meanwhile, Hana retrieved a forged forensic analyst badge from her own bag. The craftsmanship was impeccable, indistinguishable from the real thing. She clipped it onto her belt, her demeanor shifting instantly into something more authoritative.
Kenzo chuckled. "You almost look like you belong."
She shot him a dry look. "Unlike you, I actually know how to act the part."
Kenzo rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly. His gift, truth-seeing, tingled at the edge of his consciousness, waiting to be used. But he resisted—relying on it too much could be dangerous. Instead, he focused on their next move.
"Let's go."
The precinct was bustling despite the late hour. Officers moved in and out of the main hall, some too engrossed in their paperwork to pay them any attention. Others barely spared them a glance, accustomed to the presence of forensic analysts.
Kenzo walked with measured confidence, his strides even, his gaze neutral. Beside him, Hana played her role effortlessly, her expression one of slight boredom—exactly the kind of demeanor someone in her supposed profession would wear.
They approached the front desk, where a tired-looking officer barely lifted his head. "Can I help you?"
Hana slid a folder across the counter. "Forensics assignment. Need access to the Raka homicide case files. Captain's orders."
The officer yawned, rubbing his eyes before taking the folder. He flipped through the papers lazily, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Down the hall, third door on the right. Sergeant Rudi should be there—he's been handling most of that case."
Kenzo felt his jaw tighten at the name. Inspector Rudi. The man who had pulled the trigger on Raka.
"Appreciate it," Hana said smoothly, retrieving the folder before walking past the desk. Kenzo followed, keeping his posture relaxed despite the tension creeping into his limbs.
They reached the designated door. Kenzo gave Hana a small nod before pushing it open.
Inside, shelves lined the walls, filled with files and evidence boxes. A middle-aged man in a police uniform sat at a desk, rifling through documents. Sergeant Rudi.
The moment the man's eyes landed on them, Kenzo saw it—flashes of guilt buried beneath layers of indifference. His gift flared, peeling back the facade. Rudi's hands trembled ever so slightly before he masked it with a gruff cough.
"What do you want?" Rudi's tone was clipped, but Kenzo could hear the underlying tension.
Hana stepped forward, flashing her badge. "Forensics. We need to review the Raka file. Orders from Captain Aditya."
Rudi hesitated. Kenzo saw the flicker of doubt in his expression, the silent war between protocol and the fear gnawing at his conscience.
"Fine," Rudi said finally, pushing back his chair. He turned to one of the shelves, retrieving a thick folder. "Make it quick."
Kenzo reached out, taking the file, and the moment his fingers brushed against it, his gift surged forward. Images flooded his mind—memories hidden within the case file itself.
Raka, bound and bleeding, staring at his executioner with defiance. The gunshot that tore through him. The smirk on Rudi's face as he watched the life drain from the young man's eyes.
Kenzo clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm. Now wasn't the time. But the urge to make Rudi pay simmered beneath his skin.
Hana shot him a sidelong glance, sensing his shift in energy. "We'll need a few minutes to review these in detail."
Rudi nodded stiffly. "Don't take too long."
As soon as the sergeant turned his back, Kenzo exhaled sharply. Hana arched a brow. "You saw something."
Kenzo didn't respond immediately. He flipped open the file, skimming through the neatly typed reports and photographs. The truth was woven into every page, but it was the hidden reality—the pieces Rudi had tried to bury—that mattered most.
He met Hana's gaze, his voice a quiet steel. "Rudi didn't just witness Raka's murder. He made sure it happened. And not only that, this is not the first time he done that"
Hana's expression darkened. "Then we need to make sure he doesn't cover his tracks any further."
Kenzo smirked. "I was hoping you'd say that."
The war of truth had just begun.
The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a cold glow over the stacks of case files and forensic reports. Kenzo kept his expression impassive, flipping through the pages of Raka's file as if nothing was wrong. But the truth was, everything about this report was wrong.
Hana, standing beside him, kept her posture relaxed, her fingers tracing the edges of a fake ID badge clipped to her belt. She didn't look at him directly, but her presence was sharp, ready to act if needed.
"Start taking the pictures," Kenzo murmured under his breath, just low enough for only Hana to hear.
Without hesitation, Hana shifted slightly, angling her body to block any direct view from the surveillance cameras. With practiced ease, she pulled out her phone, slipping it between the pages of the file, her fingers subtly clicking the camera shutter. The soft snap of each photo was nearly inaudible over the hum of the precinct.
Kenzo turned a page and let his gift flare to life.
The words on the reports shimmered, shifting, revealing the hidden reality buried beneath the carefully constructed lies. He focused, his truth-seeing ability slicing through the layers of falsified evidence like a scalpel.
There—
A page altered to make it seem as though Raka had been killed in an armed confrontation. The real report, however, told a different story: he had been captured alive. He had been interrogated. Tortured. And then executed. Kenzo's fingers curled slightly as he flipped to the autopsy report.
The official document stated a single gunshot wound to the chest. But beneath it, the truth bled through—multiple injuries, bruises, broken ribs. Signs of prolonged suffering. The cause of death was a bullet, yes, but not before they had beaten him nearly beyond recognition.
Bastards.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain still. Now wasn't the time for anger. He glanced at Hana, who caught the shift in his posture. Without a word, she snapped a final picture and straightened.
"I got everything," she whispered, slipping her phone back into her coat. "We should leave. Now."
Kenzo nodded, shutting the file with an air of nonchalance. He turned to place it back on the shelf, keeping his movements deliberate. But as he did, his instincts flared—a prickle at the back of his neck.
They were being watched.
Across the room, Rudi sat stiffly at his desk, his fingers drumming lightly against the surface. His gaze flickered toward them, but his movements were subtle—too subtle.
Kenzo caught it.
The minuscule nod. The flicker of his fingers. The barely perceptible shift in his posture as he signaled another officer in the hallway.
Shit.
Hana must have caught it too, because her expression remained unreadable, but her fingers twitched slightly at her side—ready to act.
"Act normal," Kenzo murmured. He pulled the file drawer open again, feigning mild frustration. "We're not going to rush. That'll tip him off."
Hana gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "We need a distraction," she said under her breath. "Or I wipe him."
Kenzo's jaw clenched. He hated using Hana's ability recklessly—it drained her. But they didn't have a choice.
Hana took a step forward, subtly adjusting the cuff of her sleeve, exposing the faint scar on her wrist. Her eyes locked onto Rudi's as she spoke, her voice smooth, almost too casual.
"You seem tired, Sergeant. Long shift?"
Rudi blinked, momentarily thrown off. "What?"
Hana tilted her head slightly, and Kenzo felt the shift—the moment her ability wrapped around Rudi's mind like an unseen hand. His pupils dilated, his expression slackened, and his fingers stopped drumming.
Hana's voice was calm, controlled. "You were working alone tonight. No one else came into this room. No one asked for files."
Rudi's lips parted slightly, as though his mind was struggling to grasp at something just out of reach. Then—
A slow nod. "Yeah," he muttered. "Just me tonight."
Hana gave a satisfied hum. "Good. You should take a break. Maybe get some coffee."
Rudi blinked again, then pushed back his chair, standing up in a dazed state. Without another word, he exited the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Kenzo released a slow breath. "We need to move. Fast."
They left the evidence room with casual ease, walking down the dimly lit hallway as if nothing had happened. Kenzo kept his posture steady, his face unreadable. Hana matched his pace, her expression indifferent.
The station was still bustling, but Kenzo could feel it—the weight of an invisible gaze lingering on them. Someone else was watching. Someone who wasn't Rudi.
Hana leaned in slightly, keeping her voice low. "We're not clear yet."
Kenzo resisted the urge to turn his head, to search for the unseen threat. Instead, he kept walking, heading toward the exit. Every step felt heavier, each second stretching impossibly long. If they hesitated, if they faltered even slightly, everything would fall apart.
They passed the front desk. The tired officer barely glanced at them. A few more steps.
The glass doors loomed ahead. Kenzo reached out, pushing them open.
Cool night air rushed against his face.
They stepped outside, the tension finally easing—but only slightly. Kenzo didn't stop, didn't look back. He knew better.
"Keep walking," he murmured to Hana. "Don't rush. Don't run."
She didn't respond, but her pace matched his perfectly.
Only when they rounded the corner, disappearing into the shadows of the parking garage, did they finally stop.
Kenzo exhaled sharply. "That was close."
Hana rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Too close."
He turned to face her fully. "You okay?"
She nodded once, but he could see the faint tension in her shoulders. Using her ability always left an after-effect, and she had wiped more than just a few seconds of Rudi's memory—she had rewritten the entire last few minutes.
Kenzo clenched his jaw. "We need to get out of here."
"We need to do more than that," Hana countered. "Someone else is pulling the strings here. This isn't just about Rudi."
Kenzo looked down at his hands, at the truth he had uncovered tonight. The falsified reports. The erased evidence. The hidden brutality behind Raka's death.
Someone had buried the truth deep.
But not deep enough.
His grip tightened. "Then we dig deeper."
Hana smirked faintly. "Thought you'd say that."