CHAPTER 114: JUNA

Fin watched her, the subtle shifts in her posture, the way her gaze kept flicking towards the shattered wine glass as if it were a more immediate threat than him. The fear was still there, a tight coil beneath the surface, but the outright panic had subsided. Replaced by a wary, calculating scrutiny.

Good enough.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice still strained but firmer now. "I’ll hear you out." She gestured towards the armchair opposite the sofa he occupied. "Sit down. Properly." It was an order, not a request, a small reclaiming of authority in her own space.

He didn’t comment, just rose and moved to the indicated armchair, sinking into it. It was less comfortable than the sofa. He watched her navigate around the wine stain again, perching on the edge of her own sofa, hands clasped tightly in her lap. The coffee table, scarred and cluttered, sat between them like a negotiation table in a ceasefire zone.

"First," she began, her eyes narrowed, "where have you been? The Guild, even some of the Association trackers, they looked everywhere. You just... vanished. No trace."

He met her gaze. "Can’t tell you that." The truth was, he could, but explaining a personal pocket dimension, a ’domain’, to someone like Mara felt like a conversation that would quickly spiral out of his control. More questions, more explanations, more chances for things to go wrong. Simpler to keep it vague.

She sighed, a short, sharp exhalation of breath that clearly conveyed her frustration. "Fine," she conceded, rubbing her temples briefly. "Don’t tell me." She dropped her hand, her gaze hardening again. "Then tell me this. This ’plan’ of yours. You say it’s not about extermination. So what is it? You want a list of active Hunters. Why? Taking out a few operatives, even specialists, won’t stop the Association. They’ll just send more. Stronger ones. They won’t stop until they have you, or what you carry."

He listened, his expression neutral. She wasn’t wrong. Picking off individual Hunters was a temporary solution at best. A delaying tactic. But it wasn’t his full plan. Not even close. The list was just the first step. Reconnaissance. Threat assessment. Identifying key targets.

She doesn’t need to know the rest. The fewer people who know the full scope, the better. Less chance of leaks. Less chance of... complications. Meg knew, or at least suspected. Arachne understood loyalty. Scarlet... Scarlet was a wildcard, but her survival instincts would keep her quiet for now.

Mara, though? Her loyalties were to the Guild, to order, to some abstract notion of ’good people’. She wasn’t part of his inner circle. She was a tool. A valuable one, potentially, but still a tool.

"Don’t worry about that," he said, his voice calm, dismissive. He leaned back slightly in the armchair, trying to project an air of confidence he didn’t entirely feel. The encounter with Jericho had been... educational. It showed him the limits of his current power, the gaps in his knowledge.

His true plan was far more ambitious, far more dangerous than just playing hide-and-seek with Association assassins. "I have it figured out." He met her skeptical gaze. "I just need you to play your part in it."

Mara’s jaw worked silently for a moment. He saw the flicker in her eyes – doubt, certainly, but also a sliver of something else. Consideration? Hope? He couldn’t quite parse it. She was still wary, coiled tight, but the immediate terror had faded.

’She’s thinking,’ he observed. ’Weighing the risk of helping me against the risk of... what? Me losing my temper again? Or the Association finding out she didn’t report me?’ The latter was probably the bigger fear for someone like Mara. Guild rules. Order. Such fragile things.

"If I did this," she began slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, "if I even considered helping you get access to that kind of sensitive information..." She trailed off, shaking her head, the implication clear. Treason. Career suicide. Maybe worse.

’Here comes the negotiation,’ he thought, bracing himself internally. ’The conditions. The ’what’s in it for me’. Humans.’

"It would have to be under the strictest secrecy," she continued, her gaze darting towards the windows as if expecting Association agents to rappel down the side of the building at any moment. "No one could know. Not Jolly, not Juna, no one."

He almost smirked. "Understood," he said, keeping his voice level.

"And this list," she pressed on, "it’s purely for defensive purposes? You swear it? No... unprovoked actions?"

He met her gaze. He could lie. He’d gotten better at it, necessity being a harsh teacher. But looking at her now, seeing the genuine conflict, the fear warring with some buried loyalty or principle... a direct lie felt... inefficient. It might shatter the fragile trust he was trying to build.

’Unprovoked? Everything from now on is provoked.’ His internal voice was cold, certain. Externally, he merely nodded. "My priority is protecting what’s mine. That includes staying alive." A non-answer, carefully worded. Ambiguous enough.

She seemed to accept it, or perhaps she just wanted to. He saw her shoulders slump slightly, a fraction of the tension leaving them. She was leaning towards helping. Good.

Before she could articulate her next condition, or perhaps her reluctant agreement, Fin’s head snapped up slightly, attention instantly diverted from Mara.

He sensed someone coming.

The presence brushed against the periphery of his awareness like a shadow passing across the sun. Not close enough to identify yet, but definitely approaching. His body tensed imperceptibly, muscles coiling with the instinctive readiness of a predator.

’Ally or enemy?’ The distinction barely mattered. If they were a threat, he would eliminate them. Simple math. His survival equation had grown increasingly straightforward since the incident with Jericho. Threats were to be neutralized. Immediately. Permanently.

Mara noticed the shift in his attention. Her words trailed off, eyes narrowing as she studied him.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

He held up a hand, silencing her. He focused, extending his senses outward. The presence was moving steadily closer now, approaching the apartment building.

’Association?’ he wondered, mentally calculating the odds. ’Too soon for reinforcements. Unless Jericho managed to send a signal before I...’ He left the thought unfinished, focusing instead on the approaching presence. There was something familiar about it. Something that tickled at the edges of his memory.

The doorbell rang.

The sound cut through the tense silence of the apartment like a knife. Mara startled, half-rising from her seat before freezing, her eyes darting between Fin and the door.

"Are you expecting someone?" He kept his voice low, controlled, betraying none of the calculations racing through his mind. Escape routes. Weapons within reach. The fastest path to the intruder’s vital points.

Mara looked at him for a moment, asking with her eyes if she should answer. His instinct was to keep her there, to minimize the variables. But whoever was outside likely already knew someone was home. Lights on. Movement visible through the curtains. Ignoring them would only heighten suspicion.

"Answer it," he told her, his voice casual despite the tension coiling within him. "Act normal."

She nodded jerkily, straightening her clothes as she rose from the sofa. He watched her move towards the door, his muscles tense, ready to spring into action at the first sign of danger. His hand slipped casually to his waist, where a dagger rested against his hip, concealed beneath his tunic.

As Mara opened the door, he heard a familiar voice.

"Mara! I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just wanted to—"

Juna’s voice. He recognized it immediately. The tone, the cadence.

’Juna?’