Act IV – Chapter 11: "Alone"
Don Javier slowly wiped his mouth after finishing his dessert.
"Did you enjoy it?" he asked.
"Yes, it was delicious. I'm not really used to meals like this. Thank you for the invitation."
"Oh, don't thank me."
Leo narrowed his eyes.
"Hm… that's not like you."
Don Javier stayed silent, then shrugged.
"That's like the meals from before the war," Leo said, looking at the empty plates.
Javier snorted.
"You've got culture, too. A tall, smart, strong fighter… Gwen must be over the moon."
Leo sighed.
"I see. What do you want from me?"
Javier cleared his throat to keep from coughing.
"We've been in conflict with the New York family for years. Apparently, there's going to be a big meeting between the seven major families. Anyway… another boring thing."
"You want me to go with you?" Leo asked.
"No… no, no," he insisted with a smile. "You're going to represent us."
"Pardon?"
"You'll be escorted by a hundred of our men," Javier clarified. "And let's say that when you return, I'd like to see them all again. You know what that means, right?"
Leo straightened slightly.
"Clarify."
"Well, you know… things can easily go south. But… I trust you, haha."
His laugh sounded light, but Leo felt the real weight behind those words very clearly.
"When?"
"The team and the car are already waiting outside. You leave now."
Leo looked at the door, then back at Javier. In his head: Gwen.
He pulled out his phone to send her a message.
"Radio silence," Javier said. "It's necessary. Too risky. Everything will be communicated orally."
Leo put the phone away without a word.
He stepped out, got into the black car. The city rolled by through the window, early afternoon, warm light. He wasn't really looking at it. He was thinking of Gwen.
Meanwhile, Gwen and Enzo were in a briefing room at the precinct.
On the screen: blurry photos, crossed‑out names, dates.
"Serial rapist and killer," Enzo said. "Three confirmed victims, a fourth likely. Same MO: isolation, no witnesses, no cameras."
Gwen tensed slightly.
That profile reminded her of a dark part of her past after surviving the purge of the Zero Program. Before Leo. When she was materialized, isolated in the web, witness to her darkest horrors, she hunted people like this at eleven years old… and eliminated them. Without trial.
"We start tomorrow," Enzo went on. "We talk to the victims' families. Details, habits, all of that."
Gwen nodded, face closed. She already hated this investigation. It was too close to what she had been.
At the end of the briefing, Enzo turned toward her.
"We're throwing a little welcome party for you. You coming?"
Gwen didn't answer. She walked around him without a word and left.
She returned to the hotel in silence, her mind still on the investigation, but with a deep desire to see Leo.
Her room was empty.
Nothing.
She dematerialized and instantly reappeared in Don Javier's office.
Javier looked up.
"Gwen."
"Where's Leo?"
"He's gone on a mission. He doesn't have his phone."
"I can eliminate the target now. And join him."
Javier looked at her for a long time, then shook his head.
"Too soon. The murder of a high‑ranking cop won't go unnoticed. It would become bad for business."
Gwen stared at him, offended. She turned and vanished.
Back in her empty room, Gwen sat on the edge of the bed.
She took out a new Leo plushie she'd just sewn. She hugged it tight.
For the first time in months by Leo's side, she was alone.
No Leo. No soft voice. Just her, the poorly sewn plushie, and silence.
She closed her eyes, teeth clenched.
"Tomorrow, the investigation begins."
The next day, Gwen and Enzo stood in front of the door of a small, modest apartment.
Inside: the mother of a young student. Exhausted. Face hollowed out, red eyes, hands trembling slightly around the teacup she wasn't drinking.
She was deeply shaken.
Gwen stayed in the background, near the door, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the floor.
Enzo sat opposite the woman, voice low, calm.
"I know this is hard," he said. "I don't want to rush you. We just need everything you can tell us. Habits, outings, people she saw. Nothing else."
The woman sniffled, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"My daughter… she was brilliant," she said in a broken voice. "Promised a bright future. She'd just gotten a scholarship to a top school. She was talking about going abroad… building a life."
Her voice rose a notch, trembling then hard.
"And now? Now she's dead. Raped. Killed. By a guy who… who shouldn't be allowed to live."
Enzo slowly nodded.
"We'll do our best to bring the person responsible to justice."
The woman burst into tears. Enzo stood up gently, placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment, then left with Gwen.
In the hallway, Gwen watched the door close. The mother was crying on the other side.
Gwen stood still for a second, then turned on her heel without a word.
Later, in the investigation room, Enzo went through the documents one by one, methodical.
"I'm going to get coffee," Gwen said suddenly.
She left without waiting for an answer.
As soon as she was out of sight, in a nearly empty corner of the hallway, she poured coffee and dematerialized.
A second later, she was in the web.
Her accelerated perception devoured the data: testimony, rumors, digital traces, logs, estimated routes. She swept through the discourse around the investigation, closed forums, deleted messages that were still traceable.
She accessed IPs, GPS tracks lost in secondary systems, then cross‑referenced the suspects' names with real movements.
In a few minutes, her gaze locked on one profile.
She reappeared in front of the coffee machine, her hand already on the hot, freshly filled cup.
When she returned to the room, she set the coffee down in front of Enzo.
Enzo was looking at the investigation board: photos, arrows, names.
Gwen pointed at a photo of a suspect.
"His alibi should be checked more thoroughly."
Enzo looked up, taken aback.
"What makes you say that?"
"His testimonies are inconsistent," Gwen said, citing two or three precise details she'd just found. "Here, he says he was at the station at 11:12 p.m. There, someone saw him ten minutes earlier, three kilometers away. And there, he changes his story between two depositions."
Those details were already in the file. Enzo frowned.
"I… I didn't even see you read them," he said, more to himself than to her.
"You were too focused on reading the rest," Gwen replied simply.
Enzo stared at her for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Yes… it's possible I didn't pay attention."
He paused, then tapped the photo with his finger.
"Alright. We'll go there and check his alibi."
Gwen and Enzo arrived in front of a nightclub in broad daylight.
The place was already preparing for the evening: dim lights, test music, staff moving around.
Enzo approached the bar, where a man with cold eyes was already serving drinks to employees.
Gwen, meanwhile, stayed in the background, scanning the surroundings.
While Enzo asked the bartender questions, he couldn't stop sneaking looks at Gwen.
Enzo noticed.
"Stay focused," he said calmly.
The bartender shrugged, but his attitude didn't change.
Gwen continued her tour.
She watched the staff clean, the streaks of light, the dark corners. She was thinking through the modus operandi:
No cameras. No witnesses in 2028? How is that possible?
She stopped in front of a row of bottles.
A memory came back to her: all the victims had one thing in common.
They'd all been approached at a party.
In this exact club.
She lifted her finger slightly, quietly drawing the surrounding electricity toward her.
It was so weak the lights didn't even flicker.
She was searching for the current, for a place that shouldn't exist here.
The staff watched her snooping.
A man approached, holding a small glass.
"Must not be easy, every day, in the police," he said with a gentle smile. "Want a little drink?"
Gwen didn't take her eyes off him, her finger still raised.
She narrowed her eyes, scanning the air around her.
The employee insisted.
"Ma'am…"
Gwen brought her finger closer to the wall.
An abnormal amount of electricity was coming from it.
"What's behind that wall?" she asked in a flat voice.
The employee laughed.
"It's just a simple wall."
She tapped the wall successively with the back of her hand.
Then she called Enzo, who was still questioning the bartender.
"This wall sounds hollow," she said. "But nothing shows up on the plans."
Enzo walked toward her, skeptical.
"I don't quite get what you're playing at," he muttered. "We don't have a warrant to search the area."
She nodded, face closed.
They headed for the exit.
Enzo thanked the bartender for his answers.
As soon as he passed through the door, it slammed shut brutally behind him.
He immediately understood: it was Gwen.
"Gwen, what are you doing?" he shouted, convinced she was going to play cowboy.
Gwen slowly turned toward the bartender and the staff.
No one really understood.
The bartender joked:
"If you wanted a drink so badly, you should've said so, pretty girl."
Gwen didn't answer.
In a flash, she dematerialized.
She followed the electrical current along the walls, tracking the suspicious flow, until she reappeared in a hidden room.
The walls were soundproofed.
The air was heavy, cold.
Several women were there.
Terrified.
Some injured, covered in bruises, cuts, fresh marks.
Some half‑naked, curled up in corners.
This wasn't just about murder and rape. In this nightclub, where every employee was complicit, there was a human trafficking ring.
Gwen stood still for a second, gaze empty, then silently unlocked the door.
Then, in a fraction of a second, she reappeared in the middle of the nightclub.
The staff, surprised, immediately understood she wasn't normal.
Guns came out from under the counters, from hiding places.
The bartender pulled out a large shotgun.
On the other side, Enzo heard successive gunshots, then screams.
He ran to the door, shook it, pushed it.
It wouldn't budge.
He grabbed his radio and said:
"We've got a problem here! Gunfire! We need backup immediately!"
He finally smashed it open after several violent efforts.
When the door gave way, he saw:
bloody tracks scattered on the floor, smoking bullets stuck in the walls, bodies on the ground.
He drew his weapon, heart pounding.
In the middle of it all, Gwen was standing with a chilling smile.
The staff lay around her, coldly murdered.
She was looking at the ceiling, visibly relieved by what she'd done.
Enzo raised his gun at her, voice breathless.
"What the hell is going on?!"
Suddenly, a secret door burst open in a corner.
Women poured out, some naked, covered in bruises, terrified.
They hesitated, seeing Enzo with his gun pointed at Gwen.
Enzo pulled out his badge, while still keeping Gwen in his sights.
"Police! Wait! Exit now! Backup's coming."
Once the women were out and safe, Gwen dropped her mask.
She let her hair down, letting it fall over her shoulders.
She assessed the situation: dead bodies, gun in hand, Enzo aiming at her, live witnesses, probable video.
Delicate situation.
She looked up at Enzo, calm, almost detached.
Then she murmured:
"Anyway, I wanted to finish this mission quickly."
Gwen, convinced that no matter what happened her cover was blown, charged a lethal bolt of lightning and hurled it straight at him.
Light burst out, violent.
In a reflex, Enzo dropped his gun from his left hand and absorbed the lightning in an instant.
The energy twisted around him, slid down his arm, then disappeared into his body, swallowed.
He stayed standing.
Enzo looked at Gwen, shocked, breathing short.
"…What did you just do?" he murmured.
Gwen, surprised:
"I could ask you the same thing."
To be continued…