codename: Seraphim

"Well," Nakwon continued, "I was digging deeper, and I've uncovered something that might be useful. Elena is… connected to Yaroslav. It appears that she's been helping him in certain ways, possibly supplying him with intel or resources."

Beom's eyes narrowed, a wave of unease settling over him. This new detail shifted things. If Yaroslav had someone as resourceful and experienced as Elena in his circle, it would make him an even more formidable opponent. And meeting with her could be either a significant lead or a dangerous trap.

"So, here's the plan," Nakwon said, voice firm, already anticipating Beom's thoughts. "Tomorrow, you'll meet with her, posing as an intel agent. I've prepared everything to ensure your identity remains hidden. You'll be equipped with a silicon mask and ID documents tailored for the alias you'll be using. I'll send you the location where she's currently residing."

Beom listened, feeling a mix of anticipation and caution at the thought of meeting someone directly connected to Yaroslav. Elena was unpredictable; she might see through any façade, making it all the more essential to be prepared.

Nakwon paused before continuing, his tone lowering slightly as if imparting a warning. "That's not all," he added, the gravity of his words clear. "At that location, you'll also meet your new partner. He'll be joining you on this mission to help gather intel and assist with anything you need. But…" Nakwon hesitated, then spoke carefully, each word deliberate, "don't put all your trust in him right away. You need to assess his loyalty yourself. We don't know if he's fully with us… or if he could be in Yaroslav's pocket."

A chill settled over Beom. The notion of an ally potentially working against him was unsettling. In a place as hostile as Moscow, with enemies closing in from all sides, having someone he couldn't fully trust could prove disastrous. But Nakwon's advice was clear: he had to evaluate this person himself, remain vigilant, and only give trust when it was earned. There was no room for mistakes.

"Understood," Beom said, voice firm, his mind already running through the steps he'd need to take. Meeting Elena, investigating her connection to Yaroslav, and determining the true loyalty of his new partner—it was a lot to handle, but he was prepared.

"Good," Nakwon replied, satisfaction in his voice. "I'll send you the details tonight. Be on high alert, and remember, if anything feels off, don't hesitate to pull back. This mission has too many unknowns, and Yaroslav has proven he's willing to play dirty."

"Noted," Beom responded, his jaw set with determination. "I'll be ready."

He ended the call, setting the phone down beside him, and took a deep breath, processing everything Nakwon had just told him. The room was quiet, but his mind was buzzing with anticipation and questions. Yaroslav's game was becoming clearer, yet the stakes were only getting higher. Beom would need every ounce of caution, skill, and resilience to navigate the challenges ahead. But one thing was certain: he wasn't going to back down.

Beom let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the day's events pressing down on him like a thick fog. He was still processing the precarious situation he found himself in when, suddenly, his phone began to ring, shattering the silence in the dimly lit hotel room. He glanced at the screen and saw his sister's name illuminated in bright letters: Beom-sook.

He hesitated for a brief moment, caught between the exhaustion of the day and the warmth her voice always seemed to bring. With a resigned smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he answered, "Heyyy," trying to infuse some cheerfulness into his tone despite the heaviness lingering in the air.

"Heyyy!" Beom-sook replied, her voice bubbly and bright, a sharp contrast to his current mood. It was like a ray of sunlight cutting through the darkness that had been swirling around him. "How are you? Are you okay?" The concern was evident in her tone, and he could almost picture her frowning slightly, those little creases forming on her forehead when she worried about him.

"I'm fine," Beom replied, keeping his voice steady. "Just a bit tired from the travel, you know how it is." He leaned back against the wall, letting the coolness of the surface seep into him, as he tried to mask the turmoil still churning inside. It was a half-truth; yes, he was exhausted from the long journey, but there was so much more weighing on his mind—dangerous encounters, a mysterious enemy, and the looming uncertainty of his next steps. But he didn't want to burden his sister with those thoughts.

"Travel? You just got there! Have you had any time to relax or explore a little?" Beom-sook's voice was full of enthusiasm, as if she were trying to vicariously experience his adventure through their conversation. She always had this infectious excitement about her, and sometimes it was difficult for Beom not to feel a little lighter when she was around, even if only through a phone call.

"I've been busy," he said, stifling a chuckle at her unwavering optimism. "You know me, always getting caught up in something." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as he focused on her lively spirit.

"Busy? Or dodging trouble?" she teased, and he could hear the playful smile in her voice. Beom knew she had a knack for reading him, able to sense when he was hiding something, even if it was just for her own peace of mind.

"Maybe a little bit of both," he admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching up as he indulged her playful banter. "But it's fine. Just typical stuff, really."

There was a moment of silence on the line, and Beom imagined her processing his words, her ever-curious mind trying to decipher the hidden meanings beneath them. "Okay, but promise me you'll take some time for yourself. I worry about you, you know. Just… stay safe, okay?"

Her sincerity hit him like a wave, washing away some of the lingering shadows in his heart. "I will, I promise," he assured her, grateful for her concern. "You know I can handle myself."

"I know, I just can't help it," she replied, her voice softening. "I just want you to be happy, Beom. You're always so focused on everything, sometimes I wish you'd take a break and just enjoy life a little."

Her words echoed in his mind, stirring something deep within him. It was true; he had been so entrenched in his work, the constant pressure of missions and the weight of expectations, that he often forgot to pause and breathe. "I'll try to do that," he said, sincerity lacing his voice. "Maybe once this whole thing with Yaroslav is sorted, I can take a little time off."

"Good! And when you do, you'd better come home. I miss you," she said, and he could feel the warmth in her voice, as if she were reaching through the phone to give him a hug.

"I miss you too," he replied, feeling a swell of affection for her. It was these moments that reminded him of what he was fighting for—not just survival but a future where they could share moments like this without the weight of danger looming over them.

"Okay, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Just don't forget to text me updates, alright?" she said, her voice brightening once more.

"Absolutely," Beom said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Take care of yourself and mom, Beom-sook. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye! Love you!" she chirped, and he could picture her waving energetically even though they were miles apart.

"Love you too," he replied, ending the call and feeling a sense of lightness lingering in the room. Beom took a moment, leaning back in his chair and allowing the warmth of their conversation to settle in his chest. With the challenges ahead, he knew that his sister's love and support would be his guiding light in the darkness.

Exhaustion weighed down on Beom as he dragged himself to the bed, collapsing onto the worn, creaky mattress. The aches in his muscles finally surrendered to the inviting, albeit uncomfortable, surface. He shut his eyes, hoping for a brief escape from the stress that seemed to cling to him, thick as fog. Within moments, he felt himself drift, slipping into the quiet, consuming embrace of sleep.

But as quickly as peace found him, a heaviness pressed onto his chest, like a dark, invisible force anchoring him in place. His brow furrowed in confusion, and a sluggish awareness began to pull him back toward consciousness. His body felt paralyzed, his limbs impossibly heavy, as if some unseen weight were pushing him deeper into the mattress. "Mhm... my body... feels heavy," he muttered inwardly, struggling to make sense of the bizarre sensation.

Suddenly, a cold, merciless grip encircled his throat, jolting him from the drowsy haze with a shock of terror. His eyes snapped open, and he tried to scream, but his voice barely managed a strangled gasp. Shadows danced around him, morphing into an ominous figure hovering above, its grip tightening around his neck like a steel vise. Desperation surged through him, and he clawed at the hands restraining him, but his fingers felt weak, his strength seemingly drained under the figure's relentless force. He strained to make out the assailant's face, hoping to glimpse anything—a familiar feature, a hint of identity—but all he could see was a wicked, gleaming grin, the figure's lips twisted in a sinister smile, white teeth shining with cold, ruthless intent.

Panic flared as his breaths came in shallow gasps, each one more desperate than the last. "L-let... go..." he choked out, his voice a ragged whisper, barely audible against the growing pressure constricting his throat. His vision blurred, dark spots dancing before his eyes, and just as he felt himself on the verge of surrender, a sharp, piercing sound filled the room—his alarm.

The beeping jolted him upright, and he gasped, greedily pulling air into his lungs as he clutched his neck, feeling the ghostly remnants of the grip that had haunted his dream. Coughing violently, he tried to shake off the lingering terror, running his fingers over his throat to reassure himself that he was free, unrestrained. He looked around the dim room, chest heaving as he fought to calm his racing heart, each beat a harsh reminder of how real the encounter had felt.

Beom's mind spun, the vividness of the nightmare still gripping him. He forced himself to breathe slowly, grounding himself in the present, as a tremor of unease trickled through his thoughts. It was just a dream, he told himself. But the sensation—the weight, the icy grip, the menacing grin—felt like a warning, one that would follow him even into waking hours.

Beom took a steadying breath, reaching for his phone to check the details of his next destination. As the screen illuminated, he took in the name: Nebula Tower. It wasn't just any ordinary hotel—this was a skyscraper, a gleaming monument of modern luxury, towering high above the city skyline. Its reputation for extravagance and sophistication was unmatched, but this wasn't why he was heading there. This was where he would meet Elena, the ex-Russian agent rumored to have connections to the very target he was pursuing. More importantly, it was where he'd rendezvous with his new partner, a person whose loyalties he couldn't yet be certain of.

Shaking off any lingering unease from his recent nightmare, he stood and strode toward the bathroom to prepare. The hot water rushed over him as he showered, melting away his tension and reawakening his focus. Time stretched, yet he took every second he needed, immersing himself in the warmth, grounding himself in the present. Eventually, he emerged, refreshed but alert, his mind already returning to the mission ahead.

Back in the main room, he began dressing meticulously, pulling on a simple yet sharp suit, blending in with just the right amount of understated elegance. But his transformation was far from complete. Opening a case, he carefully unwrapped the silicon mask designed specifically for this operation, a lifelike disguise to alter his identity entirely. He studied it for a moment, marveling at the skill that had gone into crafting such realistic features, then slowly fitted it over his face, securing every edge until it felt natural. Next came the wig, seamlessly blending with the mask, and finally, a pair of sleek glasses to complete the look.

He took a moment to assess himself in the mirror, leaning closer, examining every angle, every line. The person staring back was a stranger—an entirely different man. "Hmm... not so bad after all," he mused silently, feeling a hint of satisfaction at how the disguise turned out. The face in the mirror was nothing like his own, and that was exactly what he needed to pull this off without being recognized.

Without wasting another second, he gathered his belongings, securing each item in his suitcase with the precision of a seasoned agent, leaving nothing behind. Slinging the suitcase over his shoulder, he exited the room, descending the hotel's narrow staircase and making his way onto the bustling city street. His destination was clear—the iconic Nebula Tower. The imposing skyscraper shimmered in the distance, an unmissable beacon against the urban landscape, beckoning him toward the high-stakes encounter that awaited him inside.

With purpose in his stride, Beom hailed a cab, glancing up at the towering building as he neared. His mind raced with possibilities, preparing for any scenario he might face with Elena and his new partner. There would be no room for mistakes; every word, every gesture could tip the balance. The mission ahead was unpredictable, but Beom's focus was unwavering. With a final look toward the Nebula Tower's gleaming windows, he squared his shoulders and stepped forward, ready to face whatever lay ahead.