The office doors clicked open.
Jean immediately looked up, her hands clasped tightly together.
“Marvin?”
“I’m alright,” Marvin said, offering her a quick, reassuring smile.
“Miss Diana is going to help me inspect something important.”
Jean’s brow furrowed, her gaze sliding toward the heavy sword strapped to Diana’s back.
“Then I’m coming too.”
Marvin shook his head, his tone shifting into something flat and unyielding.
“No.”
“Marvin…”
“I need you to stay here.”
Jean looked ready to argue, her mouth opening to protest, but she eventually let out a quiet, defeated sigh.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
Cammy stepped forward from the wall, her expression turning professional.
“We’ll stay with her.”
Bruce gave a firm nod, while Felix simply offered Marvin a silent thumbs-up, his iron club resting against his leg.
Diana slipped her hands deep into her coat pockets, her posture relaxed.
“Alright then.
Lead the way.”
The two left the office behind, their boots clicking quietly against the floorboards as they walked deeper into the mansion.
After several turns through increasingly secluded hallways, Marvin stopped in front of a large bathroom door.
Diana looked at the frosted glass.
Then she looked at Marvin.
Then she looked back at the door.
A slow, dry grin appeared on her face.
“You brought me all the way here alone to show me your bathroom?”
Marvin let out a low, tired laugh.
“I was hoping you’d make that joke.”
The two stepped inside.
The room was absurdly massive, almost as large as Diana’s entire agency floor.
It was lined with pristine marble walls, polished tile floors, and enough mirrors to make Diana wonder if the previous owner had serious trust issues.
“Your father had expensive taste,” Diana murmured, glancing at her reflection.
“He certainly did.”
Marvin approached a specific section of the marble wall, his fingers moving to adjust several small decorative pieces embedded in the trim.
A soft, electronic beep followed the final adjustment.
Diana raised an eyebrow.
Interesting.
Marvin reached into a hidden recess and opened what appeared to be an entirely ordinary power socket.
Inside sat a concealed, compact keypad.
It had two small indicator lights—one red, one green.
The red light was currently active, casting a faint glow on his fingers.
Marvin quickly entered a complex password.
A second later, the red light died, and the green light lit up.
A heavy, mechanical rumbling vibrated through the structure beneath them.
Several large floor tiles slowly slid apart, disappearing into the foundations to reveal a dark staircase leading straight underground.
Diana looked down into the pitch-black passage, the cool air brushing against her face.
The concrete staircase descended much farther than she had expected, cutting deep into the earth beneath the estate.
The deeper they went, the cooler and more stagnant the air became.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
The only sound was the rhythmic thud of their footsteps echoing off the walls.
Then, Marvin broke the silence, his voice tight.
“You know…”
“Hm?”
“For days, I’ve felt like somebody was watching me.”
Diana smiled, her eyes tracking the shadows ahead.
“Your instincts were right.”
Marvin glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes wide.
“What?”
“You were being watched,” Diana said casually.
The businessman automatically slowed his pace, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck.
Then Diana continued, her tone entirely unbothered.
“But not anymore.”
Marvin stared at her back for a moment.
The oppressive, uneasy feeling that had followed him like a ghost for weeks had completely vanished shortly after she arrived at the estate.
For some reason, hearing her state it so matter-of-factly made the remaining tension leave his shoulders.
At the bottom of the long staircase stood a heavy grey control panel.
Marvin reached out and switched on the main power breaker.
Row by row, fluorescent lights gradually flickered to life, illuminating a vast underground complex.
It looked like a museum buried in concrete.
Long rows of glass display cases lined the hallway.
Ancient, rusted armor stood beside old stone statues.
Masterpiece paintings hung between heavy wooden shelves filled with leather-bound books, dusty jewelry, and strange artifacts gathered from different corners of the world.
Diana glanced around casually as they walked through the aisles.
“Your father really enjoyed collecting.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Marvin muttered.
He barely looked at any of the priceless treasures surrounding them.
He simply continued forward, passing the displays, the statues, and the vast vaults filled with items collected over decades.
Eventually, they stopped before a thick, reinforced metal security door.
A robotic scanner descended from the ceiling with a faint hum.
Marvin stood still, his eyes tracking the light as it scanned his retinas.
Another small panel clicked open on the wall, and he pressed his palm flat against the glass interface.
A moment later, the heavy locks disengaged with a loud, metallic thud, and the door swung open.
The room beyond was surprisingly simple compared to the rest of the vault.
There was a basic desk, a single chair, and several plain shelves lining the walls.
But at the exact center of the room stood a stone pedestal, intricately decorated with faded gold carvings.
Resting upon the stone was a long, polished black box.
Above the pedestal hung a large, framed oil painting.
A beautiful woman looked down from the canvas, a gentle, timeless smile gracing her lips.
Marvin stepped forward, his breathing shallow.
“These are them, Miss Diana.” He approached the golden pedestal.
“These are the two items.”
With a soft click, the lid of the black box opened automatically.
Inside rested a magnificent katana.
The steel of the blade was uniquely forged, carrying distinct, flowing crimson patterns through the metal.
Its black handle bore matching red markings wrapped tightly around the grip. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Marvin looked toward Diana, gesturing to the pedestal.
“Miss Diana, this swo—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Diana wasn’t looking at the sword.
At some point during his explanation, she had walked right past him.
Past the pedestal.
Past the open box.
She was standing completely still, directly in front of the oil painting.
Marvin blinked, confused.
“Miss Diana?”
No response.
Her eyes remained completely fixed on the woman in the portrait, her posture rigid beneath her white coat.
“Miss Diana?”
Still nothing.
The absolute silence of the room was deafening.
Concern crept into Marvin’s voice as he took a step toward her.
“Miss Diana, what happened?”
Slowly, Diana turned her head around to face him.
She still didn’t say a single word.
The painting remained mounted directly above her shoulder.
Marvin looked at Diana’s face.
Then he looked up at the portrait.
Then his gaze snapped back down to Diana.
For a moment, he simply stared, his brain completely stalling as the data points collided.
Then, his eyes widened in sheer shock.
“Oh my God…”
The words escaped his lips before he could think to stop them.
His gaze moved frantically between Diana and the woman captured in the old paint strokes.
The haunting familiarity.
The shape of the face.
The precise reason she had seemed so strangely recognizable to him from the very moment she had walked into his office upstairs.
It finally, violently clicked.
Earlier that day, inside the office, he had found himself awkwardly saying: *It’s just…
you have a very unusual appearance.
The specific mix of Asian and European features.
The way you carry yourself.*
Now, he finally understood why.
Marvin slowly shook his head, the breath leaving his lungs.
“I knew something was familiar about you.”
Diana said absolutely nothing.
Her eyes simply drifted back toward the portrait, watching the woman smiling gently down from the canvas.
Outside, far above the concrete vault, the weather broke, and rain began tapping softly against the mansion windows.
Miles away, the White Requiem Agency sat entirely in the dark.
A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the empty office for a brief, violent moment, casting long shadows across the floorboards.
There, resting directly on Diana’s desk, was the old, framed photograph.
The woman inside the picture wore the exact same gentle smile.
The same eyes.
The same face.
Then, the thunder rolled, and the darkness returned.