Obsidian Dreams

Monday May 28th

Nadine El-Ashraf woke to darkness. No—not darkness. A hood.

Her head pounded. Her thoughts came slow, heavy, wrong. Drugged. She tried to move—bound. Chair. Tight. Not gagged. Not… violated.That realization steadied her more than anything else.

Memories returned in fragments. She had been texting T. Then—movement, masked men, stun batons. The leader had spoken before the strike. “Compliments of Mr. Obsidian.”

“I see you’re awake.” The voice was male. Calm. Measured. Educated.

“Nadine… we’re hoping you can help us.” A pause. Deliberate. Studied.

“I’ve convinced my associates that you are not… a problem. Not yet.” Another pause.

“Convince me I was right.” It was a question that would never be answered.

Nadine froze.Something entered the room. Not a sound— a pressure.

The air shifted. Pulled inward, like the room itself was being drawn tight. Then—impact.

A violent surge of force detonated somewhere behind her, ripping through the space like a collapsing wall of gravity. The world disappeared.

She was airborne—weightless for a fraction of a second—before slamming into a wall and crashing hard to the floor. The chair shattered beneath her, wood splintering as the bindings held just long enough to tear free. Pain exploded through her ribs. Around her—chaos.

Shouting. Breaking furniture. Bodies colliding with walls. A curse cut short mid-sentence.

Whoever had taken her had not expected this. Whatever had arrived… was not something they could control.Then—silence. Footsteps. Controlled. Approaching. A groan. Then nothing.

Nadine forced herself to breathe, struggling against the remnants of her bindings.

“Please allow me to assist you, madam.” The voice was masculine. Clipped. Proper. Familiar.

Relief hit her before she could stop it. “Selim…” The hood was removed.

The room came into view—an apartment torn apart by violence. Furniture overturned, walls cracked, debris scattered. Standing over her was Dr. Selim Farouq, Chief Intelligence Officer of Helios Vault. Composed. Unshaken. There were no signs of struggle around him. Only around everything else.

Nadine’s eyes moved past him.  Two of her captors lay dead.  Their masks—black, seamless, featureless—still concealed their heads.

Selim’s attention immediately shifted to her side. “You’ve sustained trauma to the left ribcage,” he said evenly. “We need to—” “I’ll have time for that later,” Nadine cut in, forcing herself upright despite the pain. “We’re leaving.” She steadied herself against what remained of the chair. “We’re not calling anyone. Not yet.”

Selim gave a single, precise nod. He turned, moving toward one of the bodies—intent, for a moment, on identification. Then he stopped. Both of them heard it. A faint hiss. Then another.

Their attention snapped to the bodies. The masks… were melting. Not burning. Not breaking.

Dissolving.The material collapsed inward, eating through itself—and then through what lay beneath. Bone softened. Warped. Vanished. The smell hit a second later.

Nadine recoiled, a sharp breath escaping her as the reality of what she was seeing set in.

“No…”

Selim didn’t move. His eyes tracked the process with clinical precision—but there was something else beneath it. Calculation. This was not cleanup. This was design.

Evidence removal built into the system itself. Within seconds, there was nothing left that could be identified. No faces. No features. No answers. Only damage. Only absence.

Nadine swallowed hard, forcing herself back into motion. “Move,” she said.

Selim didn’t hesitate. Together, they exited the apartment, leaving behind a scene that could no longer explain itself. As they made their way back toward company headquarters, Nadine held onto one thought—steadying herself against the pain, against the shock, against everything that didn’t make sense. If Selim hadn’t arrived…