The enforcer's eyes were cold as they scanned the area.
Ada's heart pounded in her chest, her body frozen in place.
Vega was beside her, equally still, her breath shallow. The tension between them was thick, like a tightrope stretched to its breaking point.
One wrong move, one misplaced sound, and they would be exposed.
Ada's mind raced.
The enforcer had stopped in his tracks, his gaze sharp, piercing the shadows where they hid. Ada was certain he hadn't seen them yet, but it wouldn't take long for him to realize something was off.
Her hand gripped her weapon tightly, ready for anything, but she knew they couldn't afford a confrontation—not yet.
Not until they were sure of what they were dealing with.
The seconds stretched like hours, the air thick with anticipation.
Ada could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, the only sound in the deafening silence.
She stole a glance at Vega, whose face was set in a mask of concentration, her hand hovering near her own weapon, prepared but patient.
Then, the enforcer took a step forward, the creak of his boots against the forest floor shattering the stillness.
Ada's breath hitched. But instead of advancing, he turned, his back to them, and began walking in the opposite direction.
"Now," Ada murmured, her voice barely a whisper, but the urgency was clear.
Without a moment's hesitation, they moved.
They darted from their hiding spot, slipping through the trees, using the underbrush to cover their movements.
The forest, once a place of potential danger, was now their ally.
The thick foliage and towering trees provided enough cover to keep them hidden, but they had to be quick.
Every step they took seemed louder than it should be, as if the very earth beneath their feet betrayed them.
Vega was right behind Ada, her movements fluid and precise.
Ada could feel her presence without looking.
They had fought side by side for so long, their synchronization flawless.
The trust between them was something that could not be broken, not even by the most dangerous of situations.
As they neared a small clearing, Ada's instincts screamed for her to stop.
The faintest noise—a twig snapping—reached her ears.
She held up a hand, signaling for Vega to halt.
They crouched low, barely breathing.
From the corner of her eye, Ada saw the enforcer appear in the clearing, his figure tall and imposing.
His eyes scanned the area, sweeping back and forth with practiced precision.
Ada felt her pulse quicken. If he spotted them now, there would be no escape.
She focused, willing her body to be still, to blend into the shadows.
She could feel Vega's tension beside her, could hear her quiet breathing as they both waited for the enforcer to move on.
The seconds passed like an eternity, but finally, the man turned and walked away, his footsteps growing fainter with each step.
Ada let out a silent breath of relief. "Let's go," she murmured.
They continued their careful trek, but the danger wasn't over.
Ada knew they had to keep moving, stay one step ahead.
The enforcer wasn't the only threat in this world, and there were more dangers lurking just beyond their sight.
As they pushed through the dense trees, Vega spoke, her voice low and measured. "Do you think we're really safe, Ada? Even after this?"
Ada didn't answer right away.
She wasn't sure if they were truly safe, but she knew they had to press on. "We keep moving forward," she said finally, her voice steady. "That's the only way we survive."
Vega nodded, but the concern in her eyes didn't fade. Ada understood.
They had both lost so much already—trust, safety, even their sense of who they were.
But that didn't matter now.
What mattered was survival, and finding out who was truly behind the enforcer's hunt.
For a moment, the weight of the situation pressed down on Ada's shoulders, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she focused on the path ahead, the rhythm of her steps as steady as her resolve.
The forest began to thin out, the trees parting to reveal a small abandoned cabin up ahead.
It was barely visible, half-hidden by overgrown vines and weeds, but it was a welcome sight.
They needed a place to rest, a place to regroup.
Ada turned to Vega, her eyes narrowing in thought. "We'll check it out. We need to lay low for a while."
Vega nodded, and together, they moved toward the cabin.
Every step brought them closer to what they hoped would be a moment of respite.
But as they reached the door, Ada's instincts flared again.
Something wasn't right.
The door was ajar.
Her fingers instinctively moved to the weapon at her side, and she signaled to Vega.
She could see the tension in Vega's posture, the alertness in her eyes.
The door creaked open with the lightest push, revealing the dim interior of the cabin.
The air was thick with dust and decay, but there was something more—a strange feeling, an unease that settled in Ada's chest.
She moved cautiously into the cabin, her steps careful, each one measured.
Vega was right behind her, as always, but Ada could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on them. It wasn't just the silence of the cabin—it was the silence of something waiting.
And then, they saw it.
A shadow moved in the corner of the room, a figure standing still, watching them.
It was too late to turn back now.
Ada's hand gripped her weapon tighter as the figure stepped forward, revealing a face she knew all too well.
"Long time no see, Ada," the figure said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.