The base.

That's what we call it, since it has no actual name as far as most of us know. Pretty much everyone on the island thinks that the catacombs are uninhabitable and abandoned, but all of us lucky enough to be working for the nastiest, sneakiest bastards on the island know that the place everyone ignores is where the real shit goes down.

It took a lot of people to establish the operation, but no big names. The founders mostly ran corrupt businesses that caused just enough damage to get on the radar. These were the sneaky ones who kept a low profile, but not low enough to escape King Adam.

Hardly anyone kept a low enough profile to escape that jackass. "Addicted" to magic? Isle. Possession of "dangerous" magical objects? Isle. Distant ties to villains? Isle. Political opposition? He had the sense to be slightly more discreet about it, but also, you guessed it, island prison with barely enough supplies to sustain the original population, no supervision, and no hope of escape.

Anyway, some relatively un-famous villains were able to get word of the Isle-Relocation Plan and sneak a fuck-ton of supplies into the catacombs before the barrier was put in place.

Not to bore you too much with Isle history, but I'll give you some background on "The Operation". I know, shit name, but it's not like I have the time nor the interest to come up with a better one.

It started off purely as drug-and-weapons dealing. Their monopoly on supplies allowed them to make deals with the real big-money villains like Maleficent, Ursula, and the Evil Queen.

Back then, the operation didn't have power to do jackshit, seeing as they didn't have too many people, and no one respected or feared them. However, they had control of the resources and managed to keep their position hidden, and so they were able to sit behind the scenes and slowly build power.

It was once the villains started having kids that things really ramped up. Because exploiting children for labor is one of the best ways to build a business, as many of these villains knew.

At first it was only the founders' kids. They were raised to be a part of the operation, and most of them are officers now. But after a few years, they decided to expand even more. Kidnapping became the new way to get recruits.

There's an entire unit for those missions. I stay away from them as much as humanly possible.

Next thing you know, 20 or so years later, they're the ones who hold the real power on the Island. From their rapid rise in material, staff, and resources, the Evil Queen's banishment, the fall of Ursula seven years ago, Maleficent's willingness to turn a blind eye, then her defeat, and finally...

Well, point is, almost all of the old leaders aren't around anymore.

Between all that, they pretty much run the Isle. Even more so than they did before.

Which is why I find it absolutely ridiculous that I can't even get a decent day off more than two times a month.

Now that VK Day's rolled around, however, I thought that I could relax. No missions, no stakeouts, just two real meals and pranking Clay. Instead, I find myself scrubbing bathroom tiles with Pyre at 9 in the morning.

Well, at least I have some time to think.

Mostly about how weird Kritana was acting. As capable as she is at almost everything, she's terrible at lying. She gets like this about once a month, saying that she's checking out possible marks and returning about half an hour later, saying she didn't find anything useful.

Although my relationship with Kritana is strained at best, when it comes to covering for each other in front of the officers, there's an unspoken agreement between every lower-class field agent. Even Clay, who tries his best to ignore everything that doesn't have to do with him, will put in a little bit of effort to stop anyone from catching the younger kids stealing food from the kitchens.

But this time she was even weirder than usual. Very skittish, jumped when anyone even glanced her way, and told me and Pyre to cover for her if she was gone too long. Of course, without explaining anything.

We agreed, as she didn't give us much choice, and then she dashed off about as stealthily as an injured water buffalo. The officers sent out a shade to follow her, like they do every time a lower-level operative leaves without a mission, and I could tell that she was putting in an extra effort to avoid them.

We're not trapped down here or anything, but we're not exactly allowed to leave, either. We have to explain to an officer why we're leaving, and they normally don't care enough to stop us, but they send out one of their shades to tail us when we do go out. Shades are operatives just above me and my team's level, but not quite at low-rank officers. They basically do all the higher-ups' dirty work until they kiss enough ass to become one themselves.

Feeling very ambivalent about how far I was willing to go to cover for Kritana's little secret escapade, I had distracted the shade the most innocent way I knew how to. I threw a knife at their head.

In the base, we have this little 'game' that we like to play. Toss a knife at someone to test their reflexes. They either deflect it or grab it, and throw it back at you. At which point you both give each other constructive criticism on form and technique. (I use "constructive criticism" loosely).

Kritana had slipped out the door by the time I stepped forward to share the customary critiques, but the shade simply turned around to head out the door.

But jumped back immediately when Pyre did the same thing I did. The black-clad figure turned to glare at both of us after dodging. I shrugged as I sheepishly picked up the knife that had landed a few feet away from me. I backed away a few steps, which seemed to appease them. They nodded to me and started for the door again when I tossed the knife to Pyre, right across their path.

Let's just say that I hadn't exactly decided to clean the bathrooms with my team captain without breakfast.

"This is your fault, you know," Pyre shakes their rag at me, spraying soapy water all over my face.

"Ugh!" I wipe my face off and counter, "You did exactly what I did."

"No," they turn to me, "You just made the dumb Shade angry, and Kritana was already out the door. All you did was get us in trouble!"

I scoff, "Yeah, okay, whatever."

I let out a startled snort when the aforementioned rag whacks me square in the face. I sputter at Pyre's smug face and ring out my rag over their head. Their eyes go wide with disbelief and I snort.

"It. Is. On." Pyre goes to dump their bucket of water on me, but we both hear loud footsteps coming down the hallway.

We scramble to get back to cleaning, the relaxed atmosphere suddenly very tense. We let out twin sighs of relief as whoever it is passes us.

"That was close," I shudder. We clean in silence for a few seconds, both trying to calm our racing hearts.

"You know that thing I asked you about?" They ask, eyes trained on the floor.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Hidden, just like you asked."

"Okay, well..." they glance at me, then quickly back down, "I think we need to take some more drastic measures."

I furrow my brow, "You mean-"

"Yes."

"Why? What's wrong?"

When they just turn away, I reach out and grab their shoulder, "Tell me what's going on."

"No," they reply.

"No?" I repeat incredulously.

"You know how this place works. If you know what's going on, you're in trouble with the officers too."

"But I can help!"

"No, you can't."

"Why the hell not?"

"I- it's just a hunch, okay?"

"You have a hunch that the officers might decide to randomly raid my area in the training room?" I snark.

"Keep it down!" They hiss, "Just- please, trust me."

I sit back on my heels, not sure what to do with that. Eventually I nod, "Okay. Okay, I trust you."

"Good," they sigh, "I just don't want her to get hurt."

"I know," I reply.

"No," they say sadly, "You don't."

I wince, "Just because my mother is a piece of shit doesn't mean I don't love her."

They frown at that, "She beat you."

I shrug, "I can't help it. I don't know how, or why... But I can't not, you know?"

They pause, "Well, you deserved better."

I don't respond to that, and instead just scrub the floor harder. After about a minute of silence, Pyre pipes up, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Keeping that stuff safe for me. I know it's dangerous-"

I just wave them off, "It's no problem, really. Honestly, it'd be a waste if no one put anything in that secret panel."

They nod, "It is really cool that you have one."

"I know, right?" I agree happily, accidentally splashing water in my face as I dip my sponge in the bucket of soapy water. Pyre laughs at me as I spit water out of my mouth, and I can only glare for a few seconds before I start laughing too. With a soft smile, they reach over and tuck a now-wet braid behind my ear.

For some reason, I don't flinch away like normal. Ready to shrug it off, I reach over for my rag, only to realize that their hand hasn't moved. I hold my breath as we lock eyes again, heat rising in my cheeks. I gulp slightly, trying not to show how unnecessarily panicked I am by this one small action.

I finally remember to breathe again when they pull their hand back and clear their throat, "I'm sorry I can't tell you, I just... Don't want you getting hurt."

"Yeah, um..." I stutter slightly in reply, "It's okay."

After a few more seconds of awkwardly staring at each other, I stand up and declare, "I'd say we're done."

I awkwardly reach out my hand to help them up, only to pull it back just as quickly and go to fix my hair again. I only stumble over my words a little as I ask, "You ready for that mandatory target practice?"

"Yeah," Pyre replies, "But we should probably put all this stuff back in the closet first."

I stiffly reach down and pick up the sponge and bucket I'd gotten from the closet earlier, feeling as though my entire face is on fire, "Right."

They nod in agreement and I hold out my arm teasingly, trying to get back into me and Pyre's familiar territory of making jokes and jabbing at each other, "Shall we?"

They roll their eyes and walk out the door, "Dork."

"Priss!" I call after them, insanely relieved that we're back to something I'm familiar with.

Teasing I can do, I think, But what the hell was that?

When I finally catch up to them, I drop all the supplies into the closet.

"Someone else will clean them," I say, closing the door.

"Operative 16-1!" A loud voice barks from down the hallway, "Come with me, please."

Pyre pales in fear at the imposing figure walking towards us. Unfortunately, we both recognize him. Lindsey Moreau. Significantly older than most operatives we have to interact with, he's been at this place his entire life. 27 years. In that time, he's developed a notorious reputation for being the worst of the worst. A few months ago, a new kid, Omisha, was caught stealing some extra bread. He snapped all the bones in her fingers. Very cleanly, so in other circumstances there's a chance she could have recovered, but the rule here is if you aren't working and going on missions, then you don't get rations. We tried our best to smuggle her soup and everything we could from the kitchens, but she starved to death in about a month.

"Come with me, please," the officer repeats, taking another step towards us. Pyre lets out a breath, and their face settles into its normal, nonchalant expression. Only people who knew them well could notice the twitching in their jaw. I can almost hear their heart pounding from a few feet away and yell at myself to help them.

Do something.

But I don't do anything. I just stand there.

"Alright. But can I have a couple minutes to clean up first?" They gesture toward the mess I'd left in the supply closet.

Lindsey raises a brow, "Fine. I'll send a Shade to collect you in five minutes."

As he stalks away, Pyre turns toward me. They whisper urgently, "We don't have much time. I need you to help me out with a few things."

I swallow nervously, "You don't have to worry about the closet, I can clean it, really, I was just joking-"

"Rai!" they snap before taking a deep breath and whispering intently, "I don't give a shit about the closet. I need you to listen to me. Those letters? Burn them. If anyone gets their hands on those, it's more than my mother's life at stake. With me so far?"

I nod in affirmation, "Good. Kritana's going to need your help. She won't ask for it, but she needs it.

"This last one is the most important. Get out. Grab whatever you can and run."

I pull free of their grip, stumbling backward, "Pyre, what? What are you talking about, what's going-"

They grab my face and pull my forehead to theirs, effectively shutting me up.

"Please," the fear in their eyes stops me short, "Please. Promise me you'll do what I said."

My heartbeat quickens as their hot breath mingles with mine, "Okay... Okay."

They continue softly but urgently, their fingers practically digging into my skin, "Don't come back for me. Take Kritana, jam the security camera, and leave through the vent in the training room. Check for trackers here," they tap the nape of my neck, "And here. Right below the Achilles tendon. And head straight for the ocean. There are some friends of mine who will meet you on the shore.""

I inhale sharply, pulse pounding so hard it throbs in my temples, "There's... This is happening too fast. I can't even... I won't just leave you!"

"Hey," they say, gently squeezing my hands, "Don't worry about me, okay? I knew what I got myself into."

"The fuck does that mean?" I snark, not nearly as much bite behind my words as I had intended.

Pyre just smiles and casts their eyes downward, breath hitching, "Alright, I'm gonna... Feel free to kill me for this, if you like, because this is by far the cheesiest shit I've ever done in my life.

"But I love you."

You fucking what? Are the words I find myself unable to form, my dry-as-sandpaper tongue stuck to the bottom of my mouth. They smile again, bright red climbing its way across their cheeks. They cup my jaw delicately, their other hand gliding down my back, "Can I?"

I manage a weak nod, struggling to keep air flowing into my lungs when they softly press their lips to mine. There's warmth and softness and flushed cheeks and my heart beats like a jackhammer and it lasts forever and is over all too quickly.

"What was-" I stutter, finding myself wanting to shove Pyre away as far as possible and pull them back in with equal desperation. I press a hand to my chest to try and calm my racing heart, and Pyre gazes at me sorrowfully. A quick glance past their shoulder confirms my fears: Lindsey's Shade.

"Wait... No, wait, don't-"

With a sad smile, they squeeze my hands, "Goodbye, Rai."

My vision swims and the sound of their footsteps recedes.

"Please don't go."