The gentle hum of engines vibrated through the floor as Silver Curtis stood wide-eyed inside the massive airship. The interior was sleek and polished, with metallic arches and soft lighting that bathed everything in a golden glow. Wide panoramic windows stretched along the curved walls, revealing clouds that looked like slow-moving oceans of cotton.
Silver had never seen anything like it outside of the movies.
He darted across the cabin, arms stretched like airplane wings, blue shoes thudding against the floor. He zipped from window to window, marveling at each new angle of the sky—clouds curling like waves, the shimmering ocean far below, and distant peaks spearing into the heavens.
"Yo! Look at that!" he shouted, nearly pressing his face to the glass as a flock of colorful birds zipped past the window. "This is so much better than a movie!"
He turned to dash to the other side—and collided hard into a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark suit.
Whump.
Silver staggered back, rubbing his forehead. "Oof—sorry!"
The man steadied him with a firm grip. He wore black sunglasses indoors, a grim expression carved into his face. His partner, another suited man beside him, glanced around subtly, scanning the crowd like a hawk.
"No harm done," the man said in a low, measured tone. His voice was calm but carried the weight of authority.
Silver blinked at both of them. "Whoa… you guys look like you stepped out of a spy movie."
Neither responded. Instead, the second man gave a nod to the first, and they continued down the aisle without another word, their pace smooth and precise.
Silver turned to watch them go, eyebrows raised. "Weird dudes…"
He shrugged it off and resumed bouncing between the wide viewing windows, awe still plastered across his face.
Below, the world stretched out like a living map—forests, rivers, deserts, all slowly sliding past as the airship glided through the stratosphere. He couldn't stop smiling.
...
Rows of passengers murmured softly, the low engine hum a constant backdrop as the airship continued its smooth flight toward Zaban City.
Toward the rear of the passenger deck, two men sat side by side in a reserved section.
The one by the window kept scanning the clouds and sky below, occasionally gripping the armrest with tense fingers. His dark suit jacket was wrinkled slightly from tension.
The man beside him sat still, composed—Agent Neville Flynn.
He tilted his head just enough to address his seatmate in a quiet voice. "You good?"
John Sanders gave a bitter laugh under his breath. "Define 'good.'"
Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Still thinking about it?"
"Of course I'm still thinking about it," Sanders muttered, lowering his voice. "You don't forget something like that. Not in a day. Not ever."
Flynn waited patiently.
Sanders exhaled, then spoke through clenched teeth. "I saw Eddie Kim slit Prosecutor Hayes's throat like it was nothing. In a forest. Like some horror movie. I was close—close enough to hear Hayes beg for his life."
*Click*
"What was that?" Sander's asked nervously watching around.
"What do you mean?" Flynn asked eyes darting around. "And your testimony is what's going to end Eddie Kim's little empire. That's why we're getting you to Zaban City safe and sound. From there, you'll be in protective custody." He murmured.
"You're sure he doesn't know I'm on this flight?" Sanders asked, eyes narrowing.
Flynn gave a calm but firm look. "I'm sure. Everything's been sealed tight—off-the-grid flight manifest, rerouted air corridor, non-commercial vessel. This isn't just some budget airline, Sanders."
Sanders looked around. "Then why all the civilians?"
"Cover. Makes it harder to pick us out," Flynn said. "Some here is for the 'Hunter Exam'. Which works in our favor. Different worlds, different goals. We keep our heads down, and this trip stays smooth."
Flynn reached for a water bottle, twisted the cap off, and took a sip. "Once we land in Zaban, you'll be escorted straight into the Witness Protection Program. New name, new city, new life. You're almost there."
Sanders nodded. "Right. Almost."
But the tension didn't leave his shoulders. He glanced toward the storage hatch just beyond the rear cabin—a faint mechanical clink echoed once again.
He frowned slightly.
Flynn didn't notice. He was already looking forward, mind focused on the destination.
...
Outside the window, clouds rolled past peacefully.
But far below the cargo hold, something shifted.