Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
nyx
Itoss and turn all night, the ghost’s face burned into my thoughts, front and center.
I can’t shake him. How is he alive? Could he have an identical twin I never knew about?
Impossible. He told me himself he was an only child.
And how did he know I was watching? Or maybe he didn’t, it’s just who he was.
Cocky as ever. Or did he see the drone? God, my head hurts.
I must have asked myself a thousand questions since hitting the pillow.
After Adam helped me up from the floor, he cleaned up our room and went out to grab food, so we could talk through what happened.
But I couldn’t engage, not until I had answers.
I told him I needed to dig around before I confirmed anything, because whoever I saw…
It looked like someone I knew, someone I loved.
He read me instantly and didn’t push further.
That’s twice in one day Adam hasn’t pried into the guts of a situation for more intel, rare for him.
He's a data guy, always needing the full picture, whether it’s work or personal.
The thought makes a hollow laugh echo around my room.
No amount of data in the world could help either of us make sense of this.
I admit defeat - I’m not sleeping tonight.
I pull on my baggy hoodie, step onto the veranda, and let the frosty night air settle against my skin as my hands grasp the metal fence.
The sky is an endless expanse of black, untouched by pollution, revealing the true night.
Stars scattered like shattered glass across the deep woodland below.
We’re twenty kilometers out from the warehouse, but the vast forest stretches on, swallowing half the nation’s land.
It’s breathtaking. Untouched, and unspoiled.
But it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Because it’s the same part of the world where I lost…
Noc. I almost say his real name, but I can’t.
The first time I did, our souls were tied together, bound by something deeper than words.
And the moment I watched the life drain from his eyes, I lost the ability to say it again.
So, I can only call him by his codename, the name the world knows him by: Nocturne.
Because that delicate touch, that intimacy, it died with him.
God, this night sky makes me think of him.
It always does. He earned that codename for a reason, but looking at this sky, it feels like him.
Endless darkness. A cold-blooded killer.
An apex predator standing right in front of you, towering over you like a blanket of shadows.
For almost three years, since joining Ashfall, I’ve been able to look at the sky and smile, believing - hoping - that he’s up there, watching over me.
But I know his deeds have certainly sent him straight to the fires of hell.
But I liked to think he escaped and roamed about the stars, keeping me safe as I willingly put my life on the front line.
Because when we got back from that deployment, I was wrecked.
I took my leave immediately, avoiding the congratulations, the empty praise for the 'success' of the mission. A mission I was never supposed to be part of. It all went sideways on the ground, and they called me in. And now, I still don’t know if I’m grateful I saw it for myself - that I had something resembling closure, or if I would’ve rather just heard his name read out in the debrief.
Right there. Among the other names of those who never made it home.
No, I know I wouldn’t have been able to handle that.
Sitting in a room full of people, forced to keep my emotions in check, pretending I was fine.
Instead, I was left with a torn-apart heart.
I spent those three weeks of leave locked in my apartment, crying until I was physically drained of tears.
No food. No sleep. Just a hollow existence.
Eventually, I called in for extra leave and took another two weeks off, trying, and failing, to get my head straight.
I had to rebuild the walls I had torn down when my mother died.
The ones I had chipped away to let Noc in.
And then he crashed through the rest, leaving myself completely unprotected.
The longer we were together, the less defense I had against him.
When I returned to base, I poured my heartbreak and anger into everything I did, desperate for some kind of release.
But I didn’t find one. I became permanently cold, and not the cold I would switch on as a persona for missions or interrogations.
This was different. This was who I was now; I didn't need to switch on anything going into enemy lines. I worked myself to exhaustion - grinding through training. Pounding what was left of my soul into every form of martial art, collapsing into bed only when my body and mind couldn’t take any more.
I threw myself into deployments, supported every mission I could, and my body count skyrocketed past the rest. I took no prisoners.
Every enemy who stood before me as a threat had no chance of survival. And I took revenge in every single one.
That's when the call came in the middle of the night.
The newly formed shadow unit named Ashfall-666 wanted me.
Commander Graves asked what I'd want as a codename. ‘Nyx.’ was all I said. I was fascinated with Greek mythology as a child, Nyx especially. She was feared by Zeus himself, the primordial goddess of the night, born from Chaos. It only felt fitting because I was a walking psychological weapon by that point. Before my mother’s death, she told me I was her worst nightmare and her greatest creation.
From that moment on, I became Nyx, I embodied it, let it seep into my very being.
I thrive in stealth, in the shadows, in the unseen corners of the world where danger lurks.
I flourished under the cover of darkness - a darkness that mirrored my heart and soul. A darkness like his.
I wake to the slam of a door. Blinking through the haze of exhaustion, I watch dawn rise over the woodland from my broken window.
Sleep finally came two hours ago, but only after I fried every cell in my brain with relentless questions, replaying the last few hours.
It felt like I was applying psychological warfare, except I was both attacker and victim.
I push myself out of bed and head for a shower, stepping in without hesitation.
The icy water engulfs me, but I don’t flinch.
I feel numb - more than usual, and that worries me.
When I got to this stage before, I became reckless.
Steam begins to swirl in the air as the water eventually warms enough for me to wash my hair, scrubbing my head hard enough in hopes that it might clear my thoughts.
Stepping out, I wrap a towel around myself and face the mirror.
My dark hair clings all the way down to my elbows, dripping.
I started dyeing it when I joined the new unit - it’s now just a few shades above black, a stark contrast to the light brown I used to have.
My green eyes look hollow. Haunted. And that’s exactly what they are.
The shadows beneath them are carved from the heavy weight of the revelations of the past fourteen hours.
I brush my teeth, dry my hair, and throw on my black cargos, t-shirt, and boots - standard tactical gear.
As I open my door, Adam is mid-knock, and our combined momentum sends his fist straight into my face.
“Adam!” I snap, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Seriously? Not even awake for an hour, and I’ve already been punched.
“Sorry, Nyx,” he says, turning away, but I catch the telltale shake of his shoulders - he’s stifling laughter like a mischievous child.
I nudge a discarded box from last night with my foot as he walks away, tripping him and making him stumble forward, just as the front door swings open.
He crashes right into Graves - who looks like he’s a tad pissed off this morning, and that’s not helped.
I bite my lip, eyes fixed on the floor. I couldn’t have planned that better if I tried.
The fact that I manage to hold in a laugh makes my soul feel a fraction lighter.
Hopefully, this is a sign I’m not going to spiral. Yet.
“Trying to keep me out, Adam?” Graves snickers.
He's playing it cool, but by the look on his face, he doesn't appear to have sorted the issue from last night.
Otherwise, he'd be all victorious smiles “Sorry, sir.” Adam fires a heated glare at me, but the way his lips twitch tells me he’s secretly impressed by my impulsive move.
“Everything ok, sir?” I ask as I turn my attention to Graves.
Our team isn't too heavy on the formalities when out on missions, and it's only us here. But if we ever had to visit the home base, then we'd put on a show. Plus, Graves had a great relationship with my mother from what I remember, giving him a bit of a soft spot for me. I’m headstrong, and that’s something he values immensely.