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63. Fractures in the Light
Last Updated:
2025-08-04 13:56:22
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My Model (BL) 72. Shadows Beneath the Bosphorus
The narrow alleyways of Istanbul felt alive in the night. Every stone, every archway, every flicker of warm lamplight seemed to whisper the city’s secrets. The air was thick with the scent of spiced tea, grilled meat, and the faint tang of seawater drifting in from the Bosphorus.Yoon-min’s absence weighed like a stone in the team’s chest, but no one spoke of it now — not while their boots echoed across the cobblestones. Lev walked at the front, his sharp gaze flicking from shadow to shadow, his every step calculated. Soo-ah stayed close to Sang-woo’s side, their fingers brushing briefly in a quiet exchange of reassurance.“We’re getting close,” Devin murmured, eyes scanning the rooftops where faint silhouettes moved. “Lazarus wouldn’t choose a crowded district unless he wanted us distracted.”Naelle adjusted the strap of her satchel. “Distracted or trapped.”Sang-woo’s jaw tightened. His shoulder still ached from Guadalajara, but he refused to slow down. Every part of him screamed to
My Model (BL) 71. Shadows in Berlin
Berlin was cold.Not the biting kind of cold that came with winter storms, but the strange chill that seeped into your coat despite the sun shining overhead. The city was steel and glass, shadows cast in the sharp lines of modern buildings built over ruins no one talked about anymore.Soo-ah stepped off the train, his boots clicking against the platform. The team followed close behind, blending in perfectly among the tourists, professionals, and commuters. Black coats, neutral scarves, no weapons in plain sight. Just like Elion had instructed.“We look like diplomats,” Yuri muttered under his breath. “Boring ones.”“Good,” Soo-ah replied. “Let’s keep it that way.”Yoon-min adjusted his sunglasses, covering the tired bruises still fading around his eyes. “Any sign of our contact?”Soo-ah nodded subtly toward a tall woman leaning against a column near the edge of the station. Cropped platinum hair, long beige coat, and a cigarette dangling from her red lips.“That’s her. Clara Weiss,” S
My Model (BL) 70. What Comes After Fire
The golden hue of dawn bled across the Istanbul skyline, soft light touching the ancient domes and mosques that still stood, survivors of centuries, just like them.Inside the safehouse, the world was quiet — deceptively so.Yoon-min sat near the window, his knees pulled to his chest, a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders. His lips were chapped, his skin pale, but his eyes… they held fire. Not the kind that scorched wildly, but the quiet, smoldering kind — the kind that never died, no matter how long it had been buried under ash.He stared down at the steaming cup of tea in his hands, the scent of cardamom and mint rising like a ghost of comfort. He didn’t sip it. He didn’t need to. The warmth of it grounded him in reality more than anything else could.He was free.But what did freedom mean, now that everything had changed?Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. Yoon-min didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.Sang-woo stood silently for a moment before crouching beside him, his
My Model (BL) 69. Ashes Beneath Our Feet
The night in Istanbul bled crimson under the cover of smoke.Caelan crouched low behind a half-toppled pillar in the ruins of the underground shrine, the scent of gunpowder clinging to the stale, earthy air. His breathing was steady—measured—though his heart had other plans, thudding wildly as the echo of footsteps grew louder in the distance.Beside him, Elion’s fingers brushed against his, a silent confirmation that he was there, alive, ready. They didn’t need words. Not now. Not after everything.The trap Lazarus had set for them was unraveling fast, and so were the old ties of trust within their own team.“Two to the left. One up top,” Elion whispered, eyes flicking to the ancient mosaic mural above them, the faded sigils glowing faintly. “They're wearing suppression seals. Mages.”Caelan gave a sharp nod. He didn't care how many Lazarus sent. He was getting Yoon-min back—or burning this whole damn place down.He tapped his comm once. “Sang-woo, move in. Flank from the south passa
My Model (BL) 68. Beneath the Crimson Moon
The night sky over Istanbul was bathed in hues of violet and crimson. Clouds drifted like slow-moving spirits across the full moon, casting faint shadows over the rooftops. The silence was deceptive—underneath the surface, a storm was brewing.Soo-ah stood on the balcony of the safehouse, arms folded tightly across his chest, his gaze fixed on the city lights below. His mind was racing. Despite the progress they had made, he couldn't shake the lingering unease. Yoon-min was still missing. Lazarus was still out there. And Sang-woo…He exhaled slowly, fingers brushing the bruises still healing beneath his shirt. He'd barely begun to recover from the last mission, but there was no time to rest.Behind him, the glass door slid open."You should be resting," Sang-woo said softly, stepping onto the balcony.Soo-ah didn’t turn. “So should you.”Sang-woo chuckled dryly. “Touché.”They stood in silence for a moment, the wind carrying the distant echo of a call to prayer. It was oddly peaceful.
My Model (BL) 67. In the Silence of Istanbul
The streets of Istanbul were quieter than usual. Rain clung to the old stone roads like secrets hiding in plain sight. The moon, veiled behind drifting clouds, bathed the city in a silvery glow that turned every shadow into something watchful.Sang-woo stood at the edge of the Bosphorus, his coat soaked at the shoulders. His fingers clutched the comms device in his pocket, thumb hovering over the button. The team had split up an hour ago—Yuri had gone east to the warehouse district, while Naelle was checking in with an old contact. Soo-ah and Devin were sweeping the port.Only Sang-woo remained still.But not calm.The past few weeks had bled into each other, battle after battle, lie after lie. And at the center of it all was Lazarus.And Yoon-min.The name echoed through his head like a pulse. The memory of Yoon-min’s last transmission—the abrupt end, the static—still burned in his ears. He hadn’t slept since.His heart ached with a mix of hope and dread. It wasn’t just the mission a
