Chapter 7: Assassin
"I can see the fear reflected in your gaze. You feel it too, can’t you? When victory has slipped beyond reach."
Crumpled on the ground, Raiden’s arms wrapped protectively around his injured ribs, a pained grimace twisting his features. Panic seized Ash as he hit the floor, clawing his way forward in a desperate escape.
His escape was cut short as the infiltrator caught him by the waist, lifting and slamming him into the desk with devastating ease, reducing it to a pile of broken wood and debris.
Raiden instantly choked up crimson, his arms wrapping around his torso. Every fiber of his being rebelled against movement; even breathing made his heart race wildly, threatening to burst from his chest.
"Give me the book..."
The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, his terror-stricken mind unable to process its origin. Fear had become his entire existence, a suffocating presence that invaded every thought and obliterated his capacity for rational thinking.
Another futile escape attempt ended as the infiltrator seized his collar, lifting him effortlessly from the ground. Every instinct told Raiden to struggle, to break free, yet his body remained limp and unresponsive.
The trauma lived in his bones—a childhood spent cowering before overwhelming force had conditioned him to shut down completely when faced with an opponent he couldn’t overcome.
Fingers closed around Raiden’s windpipe with crushing force. His vision blurred as oxygen became a memory, legs thrashing uselessly while his hands made feeble grabs at the infiltrator’s arm.
His struggles were laughably weak, like a butterfly beating against steel—utterly insignificant.
"Never imagined a simple bookkeeper would prove so utterly helpless.’’ The figure materialized before him like smoke taking shape.