Eren adjusted the backpack on his shoulders. He checked for the third time that the devices were fully charged, the documents well hidden, and the interference spells primed on his wristband.
Everything was ready.
He stood still for a few seconds, staring at his apartment one last time. It was small, messy, saturated with routine: unwashed cups, books on the floor, unfolded clothes.
And yet… it was his sanctuary.
He closed the door without a sound, descended the stairs with measured, cautious steps—like something inside him was trying to warn him this was a bad idea.
Then he saw it.
A black car without plates, parked right in front of the building's exit.
Dark. Motionless. Too perfectly placed.
Eren stopped for a moment. Pretended to tie his laces. Used the reflection on a cracked glass panel to observe.
Four men got out of the car.
Two stayed by the vehicle. The other two crossed the sidewalk—headed straight for the entrance.
One of them raised his wrist, scanning.
They weren't here by accident.
Eren turned and sprinted down the rear hallway. He dropped into the basement, dashed through the communal storage room, vaulted over a rusted fence, and landed poorly on the side street's asphalt.
"Target on the move!" one of the agents shouted, his voice amplified by a hidden comm—"I repeat, subject escaping through the east flank!"
"Permission to neutralize. Lethal force authorized if he breaches the perimeter."
Eren didn't wait. He ran with everything he had.
The streets were a filthy maze—puddles, graffiti, distracted souls who had no idea what was unfolding.
Turning a corner, he spotted a yellow taxi with the engine running. The driver had stepped out, lighting a cigarette.
Without thinking, Eren dashed toward him.
"Emergency! Sorry!" he shouted.
He shoved the man hard, sending him stumbling to the ground, and dove into the driver's seat. The cabbie cursed, stunned.
Eren hit the gas.
The taxi roared to life.
A magical projectile struck the side mirror, bursting it into blue sparks. Another hit the trunk, leaving a smoking hole.
But the engine held.
"Come on, come on, come on!"
He swerved hard, narrowly avoiding a tight intersection, and floored the pedal.
The car screeched. Tires left burn marks on the pavement. His hands trembled on the wheel.
He checked the rearview mirror: the black car was tailing him. Well-coordinated, but not nearly as desperate.
"Not today, assholes!"
He veered off onto a maintenance ramp, diving into a tunnel. Darkness. Signal interference. Dead zones.
If he was lucky… it would work.
One of the agents barked something through the radio, but the signal was already breaking up.
One last turn.
One final swerve.
And then—nothing.
Just darkness.
Silence.
The echo of his heartbeat.
Eren killed the engine inside the tunnel. He waited.
Three minutes passed.
Then five.
Nothing.
A tired smile tugged at his lips.
"Not yet, you bastards."
He started the engine again and disappeared down the road, heading toward the only place he could think of: a forgotten farmhouse far from the noise, where he once played hide and seek with imaginary monsters… never knowing he'd one day be running from real ones.
⋆⭒✧༺༻✧⭒⋆
The farmhouse was exactly as he remembered it.
Abandoned, silent, overgrown with weeds.
But it didn't ask questions. Didn't demand explanations. It simply offered shelter.
Eren parked the taxi behind a rusted shed. He killed the engine, stepped out, and took a deep breath—as if the stale country air was somehow safer than the city's.
He checked his backpack. Everything was still there: documents, money, artifacts, the last emergency charger for his wristband. He entered the house through the back door, which still hung from a loose hinge. Inside, it smelled of damp wood and old memories.
He let the backpack fall to the floor, drained. Walked into one of the rooms and sat down, back against the wall.
And then he broke.
"Shit…" he muttered, his voice raw with anger.
He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"Shit! They almost killed me!"
His breathing was ragged, like he was still running.
"What the hell am I doing…? Why did I get myself into this?"
He dragged his hands down his face. Again. And again. As if trying to wipe the fear off.
"For a woman whose name I don't even know. A patient who doesn't speak, doesn't remember, doesn't react. Why, Eren? Why are you still doing this?"
Silence.
The wind slipped through the cracks in the broken window. The curtains swayed like quiet ghosts.
"I could've walked away. When the scanner didn't work. When no one gave me answers. When the doctor disappeared.
But no. You had to keep going. Like a damn fool."
He stood and began pacing the room in circles.
"Now they're after me. They want me dead."
He stopped in front of the wall. Rested his forehead against it. Closed his eyes.
"What is it about her… that I can't let go of?"
⋆⭒✧༺༻✧⭒⋆
Inside an underground monitoring station.
The squad leader finished sending his report.
He didn't bother hiding his frustration.
"He got away," he said, lips tight.
The voice on the other end took a moment to respond.
There was no need to raise it. The low, steady tone was enough to freeze the room.
"He got away?"
"Yes, sir. Improvised. Took a civilian vehicle. Used a dead zone tunnel and vanished off the grid. We believe he's hiding outside the metropolitan perimeter."
"Any witnesses?"
"Only the driver. Already taken care of."
"Does the target know he's being hunted?"
"He does now, yes."
Silence. Then a click, like someone switching channels.
"Listen carefully," the voice said, calm and cold. "That man isn't just a curious bystander. He just defied a direct order, evaded a capture unit, and accessed classified intel."
"Should we proceed with Red Code?"
"Negative. I want this handled quietly. No public attention."
"Then… what should we use?"
A pause.
"Activate the M Operators."
The entire squad tensed at those words.
"Military mages?"
"Yes. And authorize them to use Gamma-class trackers. If they find him, eliminate without delay. I want his body and his name erased from every system. Understood?"
"Understood."
The leader ended the call. He looked at his team. Gave a single nod.
And just like that, the protocol shifted.
Eren Veiss was no longer just a fugitive.
He was now a priority target.