Day 1 mission, done.

Day 1 mission, done.
Third Person POV
Day one… felt almost insulting.
After everything, the tension, the theories, the sharp accusations thrown across the table, you would expect something.
A slip.
A mistake.
A suspicious glance.
But no.
The world moved like nothing had happened.
Everyone of them had found their targets one way or the other.

Hera — Gracie
Hera sat in her car, one leg folded beneath her, fingers drumming lazily against the steering wheel as her eyes stayed locked on the café across the street.
Gracie sat by the window.
Alone.
Laptop open. Notes scattered. A cup of coffee she barely touched.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Hera tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes.
“She’s… studying?” she muttered under her breath.
Gracie adjusted her glasses, sighed softly, then leaned back in her chair like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.
A grieving friend.
That’s what she looked like.
Nothing more.
Hera scoffed quietly. “You’re either very good… or I’m overthinking this.”
She watched as Gracie pulled out her phone, typing something quickly before pausing…staring at the screen for a long moment.
Hesitation?
Or just texting?
Hera couldn’t tell.
She exhaled, leaning back in her seat.
“Day one,” she murmured. “Of course it’s boring.”
Still… her eyes didn’t leave Gracie.
Not once.

Killian & Jason — Shawn
“Tell me again why we’re doing this in broad daylight?” Jason muttered, leaning against the hood of their car like he was one second away from giving up.
Killian didn’t look at him.
His gaze was fixed ahead—on Shawn.
Shawn, who was currently… buying food.
Laughing with a group of guys.
Looking like the most normal idiot alive.
“Because,” Killian said flatly, “killers don’t take days off.”
Jason snorted. “Yeah? This one looks like he’s on vacation.”
Shawn threw his head back in laughter at something one of his friends said.
Killian’s jaw tightened slightly.
Jason noticed.
“Ohhh,” he grinned. “You don’t like him.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Same difference.”
Killian ignored that.
They watched as Shawn grabbed his drink, said something else, then walked off alone—heading toward the parking lot.
“Finally,” Jason muttered, straightening slightly. “Something.”
But no.
Shawn just got into his car.
Sat there.
Scrolled through his phone.
Ate.
Jason blinked.
“…Is he seriously just eating?”
Killian didn’t respond.
Jason dragged a hand down his face. “We left the house for this.”
Killian finally spoke. “It’s the first day.”
Jason glanced at him. “…You rehearsed that, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
A beat.
Then—
Killian reached into his pocket, pulling out the tracker.
Jason’s expression shifted immediately.
“Now we’re talking.”
They moved out of the car casually—like they belonged there.
Like they weren’t about to do something illegal.
Shawn stepped out of the car for a second—just long enough.
Click.
Under the bumper.
Clean.
Quick.
Done.
The twins walked back to their car.
Jason slid back beside Killian, smirking. “That was hot.”
Killian rolled his eyes. “Focus.”
But there was the faintest hint of satisfaction in his expression.
At least they did something.
“You really think Shawn was the killer?” Jason asked him
“You think not?” Killian asked him with a blank expression and Jason shrugged, “Not saying I think he’s not or he is. He looks like a normal adult with anger issues, mommy and daddy issues.” He replied and Killian clicked his tongue.
“You never can tell.”
“well, my gut tells me this.” Jason replied instead but Killian said nothing, “Okay, how about this? We place a bet, if Shawn is the killer, you win, and—”
Killian didn’t let his brother finish his statement, “No way I'm betting with you fucking gambler.” He laughed.
Dove & Zora — Fiona
“Tell me why she has three cars,” Dove whispered, staring across the street.
“Because she can,” Zora replied simply, chewing gum like this was entertainment.
Fiona stood outside a luxury boutique, her driver opening the door for her like she was royalty.
Perfect hair.
Perfect outfit.
Perfect life.
Dove narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like her.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“I don’t need to.”
Zora snorted. “Fair.”
They watched as Fiona stepped into the car—
—then paused.
Phone ringing.
She stepped back out again, taking the call.
Dove leaned forward slightly. “Now?”
“Too many eyes,” Zora muttered.
“Then when?”
Fiona laughed softly at something on the phone, pacing slightly.
Dove groaned. “She’s never alone.”
“Correction,” Zora said slowly, eyes narrowing. “She’s never unprotected.”
Dove glanced at her. “That doesn’t help.”
“How the fuck do we use a tracker on someone like Fiona? She could change her car, even her dress, her hair” Dove added out of frustration.
Another car pulled up.
Different one.
Driver stepped out.
Zora’s lips slowly curled into a smirk.
Dove noticed immediately.
“…What?”
Zora didn’t answer.
She just kept watching.
That smirk growing.
“Zora,” Dove said slowly, suspicious. “Why are you smiling like that?”
Zora finally turned to her.
“Oh,” she said casually. “I know exactly where to put the tracker.”
Dove blinked. “…Where?”
Zora just smiled wider.
And said nothing.
That worried Dove more.

Riven & Odin — The Officials
“This is boring.”
“That’s because you expected chaos on day one.”
“I expected something.”
Riven leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching one of the officials walk across the courtyard, clipboard in hand, speaking to another staff member.
Odin stood beside him, calm as ever.
“Look at them,” Riven muttered. “Do they look like killers to you?”
“They look like overworked adults.”
“Exactly.”
They both watched in silence for a moment.
One official laughed.
Another complained about paperwork.
A third checked their phone repeatedly like they wanted to be anywhere else.
Normal.
So damn normal.
Riven sighed. “We’re wasting time.”
Odin shook his head slightly. “No. We’re confirming behavior.”
Riven glanced at him. “You always sound smart when I’m annoyed.”
“I am smart.”
“Debatable.”
A beat.
Then—
Odin reached into his pocket, pulling out the tracker.
Riven’s eyes lit up slightly. “Finally.”
They both glanced around.
Careful.
Calculated.
“There,” Odin murmured, nodding toward a parked car.
“Why that one?”
“Because he leaves last,” Odin replied. “Routine.”
Riven smirked. “You’ve been watching.”
“Obviously.”
They moved.
Quick.
Clean.
The tracker slipped into place beneath the car—hidden where no one would think to check.
They stepped back like nothing happened.
Riven exhaled. “Okay… that felt productive.”
Odin nodded once.
“Now we wait.”

Astrid — The Lecturers
Four targets.
One person.
Astrid stood at a distance, arms folded, eyes scanning the hallway as students passed by in clusters.
“How am I supposed to watch all of you?” she muttered under her breath.
Her gaze shifted.
Two lecturers.
Morning.
That was the plan.
Divide. Adapt.
She followed them—quiet, calculated.
Listened.
Watched.
Not a single thing out of place.
Just lectures.
Notes.
Mourning conversations about the camp.
“It’s tragic…”
“I still can’t believe it…”
“Such a bright student…”
Astrid’s jaw tightened slightly.
They sounded genuine.
Too genuine.
By evening, she had switched.
Mr. Jay—the anatomy lecturer—and another.
Same thing.
Routine.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Mr. Jay rubbed his temple, sighing as he packed his bag. “Long day…”
The other lecturer nodded. “We all need rest.”
Astrid leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Her fingers brushed against her pocket.
The tracker.
She paused.
“One out of four…” she murmured.
Her eyes flicked between them.
Calculating.
Choosing.
Then,
She stopped herself.
“Not yet.”
Because placing it blindly?
Was a mistake.
And she didn’t make those.

Evening
The sun dipped lower.
Shadows stretched longer.
And still…
Nothing.
No slips.
No mistakes.
No killers revealing themselves.
Just people living their lives.
Grieving.
Laughing.
Working.
Breathing.
Normal.
Too normal.
And for the first time—
A question began to creep into all of their minds.
Are we even going to find anything?
But none of them said it out loud.
Because deep down?
They all knew.
This kind of silence…
Never lasted.

Dove & Zora POV
“I’m going to lose my mind,” Dove groaned for the sixth time, slumping deeper into the driver’s seat as she tapped the steering wheel. “We’ve been driving in circles for hours. HOURS, Zora. What exactly is she shopping for? A new personality?”
Zora laughed, head tilted back against the seat, completely unbothered.
“Relax, drama queen. She’s an influencer. This is cardio for her—walk into a store, take pictures, walk out, repeat.”
Dove turned to her slowly.
“I swear, if she enters one more mall—”
Right on cue, Fiona’s convoy turned into yet another shopping complex.
Dove let out a strangled sound.
“You see what I mean?!”
Zora burst into laughter.
“Okay, okay… calm down. Just a little more patience.”
Dove narrowed her eyes.
“No. Enough patience. You said you had an idea earlier. Where exactly are we putting the tracker?”
Zora opened her mouth to answer—
Then paused.
Her gaze sharpened.
“Oh.”
Dove blinked. “Oh what?”
Zora leaned forward slightly. “Look.”
Up ahead, Fiona was stepping out of her car, phone pressed to her ear, one hand flipping her hair dramatically like she knew cameras were watching even when they weren’t.
Dove groaned.
“Oh goodness, where is she going now?”
Zora shrugged lazily. “No idea.”
Dove nudged her arm.
“Do your kitty thing.”
Zora turned slowly.
“My… what?”
“Your kitty thing,” Dove repeated. “Your werecat ability. Try to listen.”
Zora snorted.
“I’m a werecat, not a werewolf. I can’t hear across cities.”
“Just try,” Dove insisted, already leaning closer to her. “Maybe you’ll catch something.”
Zora sighed, rolling her shoulders before focusing.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, pupils shifting, senses stretching—
A second passed.
Two.
Three—
Then she winced.
“Ugh,” she muttered, rubbing her temple.
Dove immediately leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.
“Hey… it’s okay. What did you hear?”
Zora exhaled slowly.
“Not much. We’re too far… but I caught something about… meeting fans.”
Dove perked up.
“That’s great. That means she’ll stay in one place for a bit.”
Zora hummed. “Maybe.”
Fiona slipped back into her car.
The convoy started moving again.
Dove immediately started the engine.
“Let’s go.”
They followed.
For a moment, silence settled.
Then Dove glanced sideways.
“So… what’s your plan again?”
Zora leaned back, crossing her arms casually.
“We make her swallow the tracker.”

Dove slammed the brakes.
The car screeched.
“WHAT?!”
Zora jerked forward, grabbing the dashboard.
“ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!”
“YOU said swallow!” Dove snapped, staring at her like she’d lost her mind. “Swallow?? That device?? She’ll literally poop it out!”
Zora groaned, rubbing her forehead.
“Oh my God… you’re so dramatic.”
Dove resumed driving, still fuming.
“That plan? Absolutely not. No. Delete it. Throw it away.”
Zora rolled her eyes.
“Fine. Then what’s your genius idea?”
Dove smirked slightly.
“If we can’t track her physically… we go digital. We are supernaturals babe”
Zora tilted her head. “Explain.”
Dove’s fingers glowed faintly as she spoke, clearly proud of herself.
“I enchant a piece of malware, send it as a brand collaboration email. She clicks it… boom. I get access to her phone’s GPS.”
Zora blinked.
“…That’s actually scary.”
Dove smirked. “Thank you.”
“In a hot way,” Zora added.
Dove grinned.
Zora stretched her arms.
“Alright then… that’s it?”
Dove slowed the car.
“No.”
Zora frowned. “No?”
Dove nodded toward the road ahead.
They had arrived.
A crowd had already gathered.
Fans.
Phones up. Screaming. Jumping.
Fiona’s car pulled in like a celebrity entrance scene.
Zora rolled her eyes.
“I really need to start taking my social media seriously.”
Dove chuckled.
“Or… we do something better.”
Zora turned to her, intrigued.
“I’m listening.”
Dove leaned closer, voice dropping slightly.
“You’re a werecat.”
“…Obviously.”
“You track by scent.”
Zora’s lips slowly curled.
“Oh…”
Dove smiled.
“Exactly. Night’s coming. We don’t have time to keep chasing her around. You mark her—we find her anytime.”
Zora leaned back slightly, thinking—then snapped her fingers like something clicked.
“Right… so I brush past her in the crowd, maybe ‘accidentally’ bump into her—leave a marking scent on her skin. Easy.”
She paused.
Then her face scrunched.
“…but definitely not spilling coffee or anything.”
Dove raised a brow. “Why not?”
Zora shot her a look.
“Because I’m not about to pour hot coffee on an influencer and then stand there while she starts listing the price of her dress, her shoes, her earrings, her breathing air—no, thank you.”
Dove burst out laughing.
“That won’t happen.”
Zora deadpanned.
“It will happen.”
Dove nudged her shoulder.
“Fine. Then just bump into her cleanly. No chaos.”
Zora nodded firmly.
“Exactly. Simple. Controlled. No spilling anything.”
Dove smirked.
“Sure.”
Zora narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t ‘sure’ me.”
Dove only smiled wider.
Zora sighed, then waved it off.
“Whatever. Plan is set.”
She gestured toward the crowd.
“Mark her, get out, go home. Easy.”
“Okay… that’s actually smart. But you do yours,” she added, pointing at Dove.
Dove winked. “I know.”
Zora squinted at her.
“Wait whattt??”
“C’mon babe, I’ve been driving, I’m tired,” Dove replied lazily.
Zora stared at her for a second.
Then sighed dramatically.
“Of course. Of course I’m the one doing field work.”
Dove just smiled, completely unapologetic.
Zora grabbed a face cap and a nose mask, pulling them on, adjusting it into place.
She reached for the door—
Paused—
And muttered under her breath,
“No spilling anything… no chaos… nice and clean…”
A beat.
“…please don’t let something stupid happen.”
Then she opened the door.
“Let’s do this.”
Zora rolled her shoulders, adjusting her cap lower as she blended deeper into the screaming crowd.
“FIONAAA!”
“I LOVE YOU!”
“WHAT FOUNDATION DO YOU USE?!”
“WHAT”S YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE??”
Zora muttered under her breath,
“I hate humans.”
Up ahead, Fiona stood like royalty, waving, smiling, living her best influencer life while her guards created a human wall around her.
Zora’s eyes locked in.
Target acquired.
Just then—
Her gaze flicked to the side.
A girl beside her held a cup of iced coffee.
Zora’s lips slowly curled.
“Oh… perfect.”

From the car, Dove narrowed her eyes.
“…why is she smiling like that?”
She didn’t like that smile.
That was Zora’s problematic smile.

Zora pushed through the crowd, adjusting her cap as bodies pressed from every direction.
“Sorry—sorry—excuse me—” she muttered, squeezing between people, her focus locked ahead on Fiona.
It was chaotic.
Too many bodies. Too much movement.
Someone shoved from behind.
Hard.
“Hey—!”
Zora stumbled forward before she could catch her balance—
—and slammed straight into the person in front of her.
A cup slipped from the girl’s hand.
Time froze for half a second.
Zora’s eyes dropped to it.
“…no—”
SPLASH.
The entire drink went flying forward—straight onto Fiona.
Zora froze.
“…you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Exactly what she said she was avoiding.
The cup flew.
Time slowed.
Dove leaned away from her car, and climbed right on it.
“Oh no—”
SPLASH.
The entire drink poured straight onto Fiona.
Silence.
Then—
“OH. MY. GOD!!!” Fiona shrieked, jumping back like she’d been electrocuted. “MY DRESS!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THIS COSTS?!”
The crowd erupted into chaos.
Phones out.
People screaming.
Zora slapped a hand over her mouth, faking shock.
“Oh my God—I’m so sorry!”
(Absolutely not sorry.)
She rushed forward like a concerned citizen, grabbing tissues from nowhere.
“I didn’t mean to—are you okay??”
Fiona looked like she might combust.
“DON’T TOUCH ME—!”
Too late.
Zora had already brushed her arm.
Light. Quick.
Deliberate.
Mark placed.
Perfect.
Up close, she leaned in slightly, whispering just low enough for only herself to hear—
“Got you.”
Then she pulled back, still acting.
“I’m so, so sorry—someone pushed me!”
Fiona was still losing her mind.
“My dress is ruined! RUINED!”
Zora straightened slowly.
Mission done.
Annoyance rising.
God, she’s loud.
She rolled her eyes, dropped the act instantly, and turned away.
“Dramatic,” she muttered under her breath as she slipped back into the crowd.
From afar, Dove finally exhaled and got down the car.
“…yeah. That tracks.”
Then she smirked.
Because while Fiona was busy screaming—
Her phone buzzed.
Brand collaboration email.
Hook set.
Back in the car—
Zora slammed the door shut, pulling off her mask with a huff.
“What a mess, how much is the dress?” she muttered, scrunching her nose.
Then she noticed Dove smiling.
Suspiciously.
“…why are you smiling?”
Dove turned to her, smug.
“I sent the email.”
Zora blinked.
“You WHAT?!”
Dove shrugged.
“Brand collaboration. She’ll click it.”
Zora stared at her.
“…then WHY did I go through all that??”
Dove started the engine casually.
“Because phones can be changed, darling”
She tapped Zora’s nose lightly.
“But you? You marked her. She can’t change her skin.”
Zora paused.
Then sighed.
“…you make a very annoying amount of sense.”
Dove grinned.
Zora shook her head, then leaned in, grabbing Dove’s collar and pulling her into a kiss.
“You’re insane,” she murmured against her lips.
Dove smirked.
“And you love it.”
Zora smiled.
“…unfortunately, yes.”