Yuna:
The drive felt longer than it actually was.
Not because of distance—
But because of what was waiting at the end of it.
I sat beside Elena in the car, my fingers resting tightly against my lap, my mind running faster than the road ahead of us. Every second felt like it mattered. Every moment we spent away from Ethan felt like time slipping through my hands.
"…We're wasting time," I said, breaking the silence, my voice more urgent than before. "If they're already there, the fight could start anytime."
Elena didn't even look at me.
Her eyes stayed on the road.
Calm.
Focused.
Controlled.
"No," she said simply.
I frowned.
"What do you mean no?"
She let out a quiet breath.
"Ethan told you three to four days, right?"
I nodded, confused.
"Yes, so—"
"He lied."
Her words cut in cleanly.
I blinked.
"…What?"
She finally glanced at me.
"He's not going to finish it that fast."
My brows pulled together.
"Then when?"
She turned her gaze back to the road.
"Fifth day."
The words settled heavily.
"…Fifth day?"
"Yes," she continued. "Because Ethan doesn't just kill his enemy and walk away."
Her tone shifted slightly.
Colder.
More serious.
"He destroys everything."
I stayed silent.
Listening.
Trying to understand.
---
"He won't leave a single trace," she said. "Not a single connection. Not a single root."
Her grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.
"He'll tear down the entire network."
A pause.
"From top to bottom."
---
My breath slowed.
"…So that's why…"
She nodded slightly.
"He lied to you because if you knew how long it would take… you would start asking questions."
I looked down at my hands.
"…And I already asked too many."
She didn't respond to that.
Because she knew it was true.
---
After a while, the car slowed down.
Then stopped.
---
I looked up.
And froze.
---
"This is…" I whispered.
"…my father's base," Elena finished.
---
The place didn't look like anything special from the outside.
Just a large, isolated building.
Hidden.
Quiet.
But something about it—
Felt dangerous.
---
We stepped out of the car.
The air was still.
Almost too still.
---
As we walked inside—
I stopped.
Completely.
---
"…Is this real?"
My voice came out softer than I expected.
Because in front of me—
Were rows and rows of weapons.
Guns.
Different sizes.
Different types.
And even—
Bombs.
---
Elena walked past me casually.
"Yes."
Like it was normal.
Like this was just another room.
---
I slowly stepped forward.
My eyes moving across everything.
Trying to take it all in.
---
"This is insane…" I whispered.
---
Elena turned toward me.
Her expression serious now.
"Yuna."
I looked at her.
"Pick a gun."
---
For a second—
I didn't move.
Because this wasn't a movie.
This wasn't acting.
This wasn't fake.
---
But then—
I stepped forward.
---
My fingers hovered over a few.
Before finally—
I picked one.
It felt heavier than I expected.
Colder.
Real.
---
"Come," Elena said.
---
I followed her outside.
---
Behind the building—
Was a large open ground.
Wide.
Empty.
Except—
For target boards placed at a distance.
---
She stopped.
Turned to me.
And pointed.
"Shoot."
---
I stared at the target.
My heart beating faster.
---
"…Just like before," I whispered to myself.
---
I raised the gun.
My grip tightening.
My breath slowing.
---
For a moment—
Everything went quiet.
---
Then—
I pulled the trigger.
---
The sound echoed loudly.
Sharp.
Real.
---
Again.
And again.
And again.
---
Six shots.
---
When I lowered the gun—
My breath slightly uneven—
I looked at the target.
---
And froze.
---
All six bullets—
At the center.
---
Elena blinked.
"…What?"
She stepped forward slightly.
Looking closer.
Then back at me.
---
"…You're kidding."
---
I looked at the target again.
"…I didn't expect that either."
---
She crossed her arms.
Her expression shifting into something impressed.
"How?"
---
I gave a small, almost embarrassed smile.
"I acted in a movie once… there were gun scenes."
She raised an eyebrow.
"And that's enough to do this?"
"I practiced a lot back then," I said softly.
---
She shook her head slightly.
"…You're better than me."
---
Then she stepped forward.
Picked her own gun.
And aimed.
---
Her posture was confident.
But not as steady.
---
She fired.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
---
The bullets hit the board.
But not the center.
---
She frowned slightly.
Fired again.
---
The last bullet—
Hit the middle.
---
She lowered the gun.
"…I'm bad at this."
---
I smiled faintly.
"You still hit the target."
She scoffed lightly.
"That's not enough where we're going."
---
Silence fell between us.
But this time—
It wasn't tense.
It was focused.
---
I looked at the gun in my hand.
Then at the target.
---
"…I'm really doing this," I whispered.
---
Elena glanced at me.
"Yes."
---
I took a deep breath.
My grip tightening again.
---
"…Then I need to get better."
---
Because this wasn't acting anymore.
This wasn't practice for a role.
---
This was real.
---
And if I was going to stand beside Ethan—
Then I had to be ready for his world.
The echo of the gunshots still lingered in the air.
It wasn't just a sound—
It stayed in my chest.
In my hands.
In the way my fingers still slightly trembled around the grip.
---
I lowered the gun slowly, staring at it for a moment longer than I should have.
"…This feels different," I said quietly.
Elena glanced at me.
"Of course it does."
I looked up at her.
"In movies… it never feels like this."
She gave a small, almost knowing smirk.
"Because in movies, nothing actually happens after you pull the trigger."
Her words settled heavily.
But I understood them.
---
I turned back toward the target again.
Six perfect shots.
Dead center.
It should have made me feel proud.
But instead—
It made me think.
If I could aim like this…
If I could pull the trigger this easily…
Then what did that say about me?
---
"…Do you ever get used to it?" I asked softly.
Elena tilted her head slightly.
"To what?"
"This," I gestured lightly with the gun. "Holding something that can… end someone."
She didn't answer immediately.
Her expression shifted slightly.
More serious.
More honest.
"No," she said finally. "You don't get used to it."
A pause.
"You just learn when to use it."
---
I nodded slowly.
That answer felt real.
Not comforting—
But real.
---
Elena stepped closer to me.
"Again," she said, nodding toward the target.
I blinked.
"…Again?"
"You think one lucky round makes you ready?" she raised an eyebrow.
I let out a small breath.
"…No."
"Then shoot."
---
I adjusted my grip.
Lifted the gun again.
This time—
My hands were steadier.
My breathing more controlled.
---
I aimed.
Focused.
---
And fired.
---
One shot.
Then another.
---
This time—
Not all perfect.
Some slightly off center.
Some closer.
---
I lowered the gun again.
"…Not as good."
Elena nodded.
"Good."
I looked at her.
"…Good?"
"You need to see your mistakes," she said. "Because out there, mistakes cost more than points on a board."
---
Her words hit differently now.
Because now—
I wasn't imagining anything.
I wasn't pretending.
---
I was preparing.
---
Elena walked past me toward a table near the side.
She picked up another magazine.
Reloaded her gun smoothly.
Then glanced back at me.
"You have potential."
I raised an eyebrow slightly.
"That doesn't sound like a compliment."
"It's not," she said plainly. "It's a warning."
I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"…You're harsh."
"And you're stubborn," she replied.
---
She walked back toward me.
Standing beside me now.
"Listen carefully," she said.
I straightened slightly.
"Out there, you don't hesitate."
Her tone changed again.
Serious.
Sharp.
"You don't think 'should I shoot or not?' You either act—or you don't."
---
My grip tightened slightly.
"…And if I hesitate?"
She looked straight at me.
"Then someone else won't."
---
Silence followed.
But this time—
It didn't scare me.
---
Because I understood.
---
I looked at the target again.
Then back at the gun in my hand.
---
"…I'm not doing this to become like him," I said quietly.
Elena didn't respond.
"…I'm doing this so I don't lose him."
---
That made her glance at me.
Just for a second.
---
"…Then don't slow him down," she said.
---
I nodded.
Firmly.
---
Because that was the last thing I wanted.
---
I raised the gun again.
Aimed.
Focused.
---
And this time—
When I pulled the trigger—
It wasn't out of curiosity.
It wasn't out of practice.
---
It was with purpose.