𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 | 𝐋𝐄𝐎

The smell of saltwater hit me as soon as we got close to the docks. The waterfront was quiet, the usual hustle of unloading cargo long gone, leaving behind only the rusting skeletons of cranes and shipping containers stacked like tombstones. It was the kind of place people like to forget existed, where things happened in the dark—things that weren't meant for daylight.

Frenchie parked the van a good distance away, where we had a clear view of the warehouse the guy had mentioned before Kimiko had snapped his neck. It was a squat, unassuming building, blending in with the rest of the industrial sprawl. The perfect place for Vought to move something as dangerous as Compound V without anyone noticing.

"Looks quiet," Frenchie said, squinting through the windshield, scanning the area like a hawk. "Too quiet."

"Yeah," I muttered, lighting another cigarette. "It usually is before all hell breaks loose."

We sat in silence for a moment, each of us lost in our own thoughts, preparing for what came next. I was thinking about Supernova, about the way she had clocked me in the crowd. She might not know exactly who I was, but it was only a matter of time before she found out. Vought didn't like loose ends, and right now, I was dangling in their sightline.

The flicker of my lighter illuminated my face for a second before I exhaled the smoke, watching it dissolve into the cold night air. The docks had that eerie stillness, the kind that wraps around you and makes your skin crawl. But I'd been in worse places. More dangerous places.

Frenchie tapped the steering wheel absentmindedly, glancing toward the rear of the van. "Kimiko's ready," he said quietly. I didn't need to look. I knew she was there, already in that headspace she went to before things got messy. Frenchie always talked about her like she was a weapon—silent but deadly—and he wasn't wrong. If things went south, Kimiko would clean it up without a word.

"Alright, let's not drag this out," I said, flicking the cigarette into a nearby puddle. "We go in quiet, check the place out, and if we find the V, we blow this operation to hell. Simple."

Frenchie grinned, pulling his jacket tighter around him. "Simple, like always, eh?"

The three of us slipped out of the van, sticking to the shadows as we made our way toward the warehouse. The wind from the waterfront carried the distant sounds of the city behind us, but out here, it was like another world—isolated, cut off from the noise. Just how Vought liked it.

Kimiko led the way, her footsteps barely making a sound on the gravel. She moved with a fluid grace, almost like she was gliding, her senses sharp, always on alert. I followed a few paces behind, scanning the surrounding area, while Frenchie brought up the rear, hands resting lightly on his modified guns, just in case.

As we approached the side of the warehouse, I could see the faint glow of security lights casting long, sinister shadows. The entrance was guarded, but nothing too heavy—two men, maybe more inside. These weren't Vought's high-tier enforcers, just low-level grunts, probably hired to stand around and look menacing.

I signaled to Kimiko with a quick nod, and without hesitation, she disappeared into the dark, moving like a ghost toward the guards. I could barely track her as she closed the distance in seconds. There was no sound, no struggle—just two bodies crumpling to the ground before anyone could react. Clean.

I motioned for Frenchie to follow me as we moved toward the door, keeping low. I checked the guards—both out cold. "Nice work," I whispered, stepping over them and pressing my ear to the door. Nothing. It was quiet inside.

"Shall we?" Frenchie whispered, sliding up beside me, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He loved this part—the tension before the storm, the adrenaline that came from not knowing what was waiting on the other side.