Chapter Text
***Sylus’ POV***
Being the leader of the Onychinus wasn’t easy.
Endless business meetings. Constantly figuring out who was trying to kill him next.
Sure — it was his job, but it got boring fast. That’s why, whenever he wrapped up another long day of meetings, he always made his way to Linkon to see his beloved doctor.
Zayne.
Heading toward his motorcycle, Sylus pulled his phone from his pocket and called one of the twins. Luke’s cheerful tone on the other end brought a faint smile to his face.
“Clean up the area. I’ll send you the location. I won’t be at the base tonight, so the food’s in the fridge — heat it up if you’re hungry.”
“Yes, boss! On our way!”
Hanging up, Sylus tucked his phone away, slipped his helmet on, and gunned the engine, driving off toward Linkon and the man he loved.
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Twins’ POV
Luke and Kieran had done this job more times than they could count.
Being the Onychinus’ henchmen was easy.
Kill Sylus’ enemies. Have some fun while doing it. Get paid well.
Child’s play.
…Right?
“This guy’s heavy…” Kieran muttered through his mask.
“Yeah, but boss-man’s orders! After we clean this hellhole up, we’ve got the base all to ourselves. He’s off visiting doc-man. We can binge snacks and stay up all night!”
Luke spoke cheerfully as he dragged another corpse to the growing pile.
But as Kieran started toward him, he froze mid-step.
“…You hear that?” Kieran’s voice dropped, muffled by his mask.
Luke tilted his head at him.
“Hear what?” he asked, walking closer with his hands planted on his hips.
“…Beeping.”
Kieran’s eyes narrowed behind his mask, his head turning slowly as he followed the faint sound. Luke sighed and followed him.
“You’re imagining things, Kieran. No beeping. C’mon — let’s torch these bodies and get outta here. This place gives me the creeps.”
But Kieran didn’t move. He stopped in front of a door and pointed.
“There. It’s coming from in there.”
His hand gripped the handle as Luke finally heard it too — the sharp, rhythmic beep… beep… beep.
Luke’s breath hitched. His eyes widened in recognition.
“Kieran—wait—”
Too late.
Kieran flung the door open.
And there it was: a bomb. Timer blinking down.
3.
2.
1..
“KIERAN!”