Free Web NovelChapter 52: The Text.
『"Why does it always feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone..."』
Ethan’s hands came up to frame her face, thumbs brushing along her cheekbones as he leaned in, his mouth meeting hers.
The kiss started gentle at first, their lips pressed together softly. Then it grew rougher as she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with an intensity that made him make a sound low in his throat.
She parted her lips, and his tongue moved forward like it was invited, brushing against hers as they tasted each other slowly.
"Wait," she said, breaking the kiss for a moment. She looked up at him, breathing harder. "Bed," she whispered, glancing towards his bed.
He nodded and wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her up until her legs wrapped around him, all the while kissing her back with a matching hunger.
He carried her just like that towards the bed and they stumbled backward on it, hands exploring, mouths never quite separating.
Amara’s back hit the mattress, and then Ethan was above her, his weight settling between her legs in a way that made her gasp against his mouth.
"You know, I’ve been thinking about this all day," he said, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.
"Mm-hmm" Amara hummed in agreement and pulled him back down.
His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, down to that sensitive spot below her ear that he knew made her arch against him.
One of his hands slid beneath the hem of her tank top, fingers splaying across the bare skin of her waist, and everywhere he touched felt electric.
Amara’s hands found his hair, tangling in the dark strands and holding him close as his mouth moved lower, kissing along her collarbone, down to the edge of her top.
Then she shifted, using her legs to flip their positions smoothly. Suddenly she was on top, looking down at him sprawled beneath her, his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Why, Miss Murray," Ethan said with a voice that was rough and amused despite the obvious arousal, "are you just using me for my body?"
Amara leaned down, her locs falling around them, and kissed him hard. When she pulled back, her lips were swollen and her breathing unsteady.
"Yes," she said simply. "I most certainly am."
Then she kissed him again, rolling her hips against his in a way that made him groan and grip her waist tighter.
His hands slid up her sides, fingers tracing her ribs, thumbs brushing just beneath her breasts through the thin fabric.
Amara made a sound that was half gasp, half moan, and Ethan took advantage of her parted lips to deepen the kiss further, tasting her tongue.
They stayed like that for a long time, kissing, touching, and learning more of each other’s responses. Every place that made the other gasp or make involuntary sounds of pleasure.
Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them. The adrenaline from earlier, the emotional toll of everything, and the sheer intensity of their connection, all crashing down at once.
Amara collapsed beside Ethan, both of them breathing hard, still fully clothed but thoroughly disheveled.
"I should probably—" Amara started, already preparing to sit up.
"Stay?" Ethan asked quietly, his arm coming around her waist to pull her back down against his chest.
Amara thought about it for a second.
"Alright," she murmured, already feeling sleep pulling at her.
***
Hours later, Amara woke to darkness and the steady sound of Ethan breathing behind her.
Her device read 23:30. She’d only been asleep for an hour.
She knew she should slip out and return to her own room. They were still trying to keep things somewhat private, maintain some boundaries.
But Ethan’s arm was wrapped securely around her waist, his chest warm against her back. And the simple comfort of being held felt too good to leave.
Then her device buzzed insistently.
Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession.
Frowning, Amara carefully reached for it without waking Ethan and opened the messages.
The sender had no name, just "UNKNOWN NUMBER" in the header. And her blood ran cold as soon as she started reading the message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Amara Murray. The Sword. You really think you have what it takes?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Four days until Tokyo. I’ll be watching. Curious to see if you’re worthy of the name you carry.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Do try not to die too quickly. We have such high hopes for you. Just as Louis and Ayana do.
Amara sat up, slowly extracting herself from Ethan’s embrace. Her hands were shaking slightly as she stared at the screen, reading the messages again.
The Sword. Worthy of the name. And worst of all, her parents. Whoever sent this knew things they shouldn’t know.
"Amara?" Ethan’s sleepy voice came from behind her. "What’s wrong?"
She turned the device toward him without saying a word, the back of her hand across her mouth.
She watched his expression shift from drowsy to alert in an instant, sleep vanishing from his eyes as he read the messages.
Then his jaw clenched as he read it again. "How the hell did they get this number?"
"I don’t know." Amara’s hands were still shaking. "But they know about Tokyo. They know about—about the Five. They know—" she couldn’t bring herself to finish.
"Your parents," Ethan finished for her. He took the device from her trembling fingers and set it aside. Then pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.
After a moment of comforting her, he sat up fully and grabbed his own device, fingers moving across the screen. "We need to report this immediately. I’m messaging the Director."
The response came back within thirty seconds:
DIRECTOR: Stay where you are. I’m coming to you.
Amara stood and quickly tried to make herself presentable, smoothing down her tank top, pulling her hair scarf back on, and running fingers through her locs.
Ethan pulled on a hoodie to replace the shirt that had gotten discarded during their earlier activities.
They didn’t speak while they waited, but Ethan’s hand found hers and squeezed reassuringly.
Three minutes later, there was a sharp knock at the door and Ethan opened it to reveal the Director, still in his formal uniform despite the late hour. Which meant he was probably still on the clock.
Maybe he was never off the clock to begin with...
"Sir," both Amara and Ethan said simultaneously.
Amara stepped forward, tucking her hair behind her ear as she handed him her device with the threatening messages still displayed.
The Director took it and examined the messages, his expression growing progressively darker with each line. The silence stretched as he scrolled, read, then read again.
"This is a security breach," he said finally, his voice was controlled but held a hint of anger beneath.
"A significant one," he continued. "Your devices are Institute-issued, encrypted with military-grade security, theoretically impenetrable.
The Director sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But do not worry, I’ve already ordered security details on your immediate family members doubled."
"Security details?" Amara’s brows furrowed. "You’ve had people watching my parents?"
"Standard protocol for all active Awakeners," the Director said. "Your families are potential targets. We’ve had protective surveillance in place since you entered the program."
"You never told me—"
"Need-to-know basis, Miss Murray." He looked at his watch, then back at her. "But given this threat explicitly mentions them, you need to know now."
Amara didn’t know whether to feel relieved or violated. Protected or surveilled.
"They’re safe," the Director assured her, reading her expression. "And they’ll stay safe. That’s my word."
"Why me?" Amara asked concerning the threat, though she had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.
"Because you’re the Sword," the Director said, meeting her eyes directly. "You’re the perceived leader. Rattling you rattles the entire team."
He pulled up additional screens on Amara’s device, running traces and security diagnostics as his fingers moved with professional efficiency across the screen.
Then he stopped and went very still.
"What?" Ethan asked, reading the Director’s body language. "What did you find?"
"The message originated from within Institute networks," the Director said quietly.
It felt like the wind had been knocked out of them.
"So someone here is compromised," Sophia’s voice came from the doorway.
They all turned to see her standing there in pajama pants and an oversized hoodie. Raj and Hiro stood right behind her, both looking alert and worried as well.
"Felt the psychic disturbance," Sophia explained, gesturing vaguely at her head. "Fear. Anger. Determination. All coming from this direction. Figured something was wrong."
"You think this has anything to do with the mystery summoner who wants us dead?" Hiro asked, moving into the room.
"Could be unrelated. Could be connected," the Director replied, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. "But we have to assume the worst until proven otherwise."
"What do we do?" Raj asked.
"We find them," the Director said. "And we neutralize the threat before Tokyo. I’m initiating full lockdown. Every device will be swept, every Institute member’s credentials reverified, and surveillance will be increased across all sectors."
Ethan grunted and ran his hand through his hair. "Initiating full lockdown? Doing that drops the defenses in the lower archives."
"Yes," the Director said. "But finding out where this message originated from should be our priority. It shouldn’t take any time with the lockdown protocol initiated."
Then he turned specifically to Amara. "In the meantime, you five stay together. No one goes anywhere alone. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," they all said in unison.
The Director handed Amara’s device back to her. "I’ll have the tech division analyze these messages for any identifying markers. Try to get some sleep. We’ll reconvene at 0600 for a full briefing."
He left, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he walked away.
The five of them stood in Ethan’s quarters, the comfortable atmosphere from earlier completely gone.
"Well," Hiro said into the silence, "I officially retract my earlier statement about today not getting any worse. Apparently, the universe took that as a challenge."
"You just had to say it didn’t you," Sophia said, moving to sit on Ethan’s desk chair. "And here we are. Haunted library and death threats. It’s like a terrible two-for-one deal."
Amara read the messages again, focusing on the last line: Do try not to die too quickly. We have such high hopes for you...
This didn’t read like a threat. It read like a promise. Like whoever sent it was looking forward to what came next.
