Literature-Is-Art

Gripping Yor’s hand, Loid maintained a cheery demeanor that betrayed the whirlpool of emotions inside him. In those few seconds before Yor shot out of her seat, something had possessed him to lean in closer to those red lips of hers. He had been so tempted to taste it that he hadn’t noticed his target walking towards the ferris wheel. What in the world was he thinking? Frustration mounted in him. He had never let himself get distracted on a mission before. Why was this one any different? His pace picked up until the two of them were close to sprinting towards the ferris wheel. To his relief, Yor didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to be as eager as him to reach their destination. There was no queue at all - a miracle in and of itself. Or maybe that was why the target had chosen the ferris wheel as a covert meet-up. Noticing his young, clean-shaven target get into the ferris wheel pod with another bespectacled middle-aged man, Loid slowed down. He didn’t want his target to

Yor looked up at the large clock above the food stalls. She had another thirty minutes to go before her appointment with her soon-to-be-dead target. Plenty of time to grab something to eat and drink. Her stomach growled at the thought of food. Being too busy preparing for the assassination, she had little time earlier to snack. “Hungry?” She looked up at Loid, embarrassed that he had heard her stomach growling. “Y-Yeah, a little.” “Come on. Let’s check out all that they have before we decide on what to eat.” “Okay.” Despite agreeing with Loid, she honestly didn’t mind eating anything. Food was sustenance, that was all. But she liked that her fake boyfriend was someone who always made careful choices. He had good taste in almost everything and that made going out with him all the more thrilling. She snuck a glance at him. The color in his cheeks had returned. He seemed better after that incident on the merry-go-round, which was a huge relief. She should have looked away after

Standing at the entrance of Fairgrounds with one eye on the crowd, Loid kept an ear out for buzzing sounds from the geiger counter embedded in his watch. His fingers absentmindedly stroked the camera dangling around his neck. The camera served two purposes - it branded him as a tourist and it could zoom into the next ferris wheel pod more than twenty metres away. He planned to walk around with Yor, checking out the surroundings until he found the target. Then, he would suggest riding the ferris wheel with her. While she admired the view outside, he would put his camera to good use and spy on his target with the pretext of taking pictures. It should be a pretty simple plan if nothing went wrong. His eyes swept across the throngs of laughing and screaming people. Families, couples, big groups of friends. Despite himself, a thin smile settled on his face. The work of a spy was gruelling, dangerous, and almost certainly life-threatening. But seeing normal people having fun and being

Good morning, Agent Twilight. Your mission, should you choose to accept it - knowing that termination awaits you if you choose to decline it - is to eavesdrop on the information exchange between the well-known terrorist group, BlackRising, and the resistance. We have intel that the exchange will take place tonight at the Fairgrounds in one of the ferris wheel’s pods. You are not to engage the targets - track and report only. Be advised that the resistance has counter-intel on our operations and may discover your identity. In the event that your cover is blown, take precautions to remove all evidence. Destroy this message in two seconds. Loid Forger took out his lighter, flicked it open, and lit the corner of his newspaper. Hungry flames licked the paper, turning the words into charred garbage. He tossed the burning evidence into the nearest empty dustbin, leaving it to crumple to ash at the bottom. As he stalked down the deserted alleyway behind a factory, the gears of his mind spun

“Eren, what am I supposed to do?” “Relax, Armin. (F/N) will forgive you after a while.” Armin bit his fingernails, his nerves working up a fit. “It’s different this time. She’s going to leave me. I can feel it in my bones.” A rattling sigh drifted down the line. Armin clutched the phone to his ear like a lifeline. “I know she loves those over-the-top apologies in romance dramas. Is there anything that you and Mikasa watched that can help me?” Eren hummed in thought. “There was this one ridiculous scene I watched recently.” “What is it? What did they do?” “The guy wanted to apologize for being a loud jerk. So he invited her over for dinner and threw petals all along the way from the entrance to where he was. There was some freaking balloon arch where he stood. Oh, and candles. So many candles on the floor and on the table.” “Candles,” Armin murmured. “I can do that.” “Yeah, maybe that will work.” “Okay, I’ll do it. It’s worth a shot.” Armin sucked in a long breath. “Thanks

The records facility was a small, discreet building in stark comparison to the surrounding grandiose structures. Its one and only crowning feature was the spiky, reflective surface of its arched roof. Most visitors would assume its odd structure was purely for decorative purposes. But the reality of its design was a pointed warning to keep intruders out. Kaz looked out the tiny window at the top floor of the staff quarters. Rain pounded on the spiky surface of the roof, the droplets collecting into small streams that dripped off the edge. His eyes narrowed as he watched the movement of the raindrops as it hit the roof’s jagged surfaces. To an untrained eye, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But he missed nothing. The sway of the raindrops were unnatural, blown out of its course by the air duct system underlying the spiked roof panels. It was a beautiful and functional security design. The force of the air pouring out from those ducts were enough to dislodge anyone scaling the

“Of all the days, why rain today?” Wylan muttered as his fingers flew over his expensive tablet. Seated across from him in the SynBionic hovercraft, Inej suppressed a laugh. “You’re not the one scaling rooftops, so don’t worry too much.” Grimacing, Wylan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Yeah, but you know…” As Wylan trailed off, Kaz tapped his cane on the floor beside the young man. “Just make sure the power is cut off to the records building.” Kaz shifted his glance to her, his intense eyes burning into hers. The hard lines of his jaw were masked by a shawl wrapped around his neck that was meant to be a disguise. To be honest, he looked both odd and endearing with that shawl. She looked away, unwilling to feel anything but anger for him. A life away from the city’s underbelly was her dream and this heist could easily support it. But she hadn’t fully contemplated the thought of leaving Kaz’s gang. The gang had been her home for years and its members were as close to family

“What’s next is your head served on a platter, Jesper.” The dark-skinned man groaned. “Come on, Kaz. I was only late by five minutes-” “Eleven minutes.” “Fine, eleven minutes!” Jesper threw his hands up. Kaz got up from his chair. His gloved hand reached for the sturdy crow’s head cane by his desk and he limped towards Jesper. He was the same age as the lanky Jesper but his hard jaw lines, thin lips, and hard gaze made him appear older. “Care to tell me what you were doing during that eleven minutes, Jesper?” he hissed. “Snuggling up to your new love?” Jesper’s lips parted in an offended scowl. “I wasn’t snuggling! I was cozying up to him.” “That’s the same.” “No, it’s not! One is about-” “I don’t care.” Kaz cut him short. He inched closer towards Jesper, his eyes boring into the man’s. “Now did you or did you not disable the thermal motion sensor on the ring?” “Of course I did,” Jesper scoffed. “Plus, because of my-” He made air quotes with his hands. “-snuggling up, I have

The SynBionic hovercraft shuttle thrummed as it docked in the ring circulating the biomedical facility. Its long, sleek frame engaged with the docking station with a loud clang. Inside, its sole occupant hummed to himself as the thermal-motion sensor within the ring scanned the shuttle. A neutral, robotic voice declared, “One occupant detected.” “That’s right, baby.” The dark-skinned man clicked his tongue, a grin tugging at his lips. “State your ID and purpose.” “ID 7513358. Routine clean-up.” “Identity confirmed. Contacting security team for purpose checks.” The man folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. “Please don’t take your time.” It took a few seconds before a chime resounded in the vehicle. “Permission granted to enter SynBionic.” “Took you long enough,” the man muttered before springing forward. The door slid open with a hiss. Stretching his lanky legs out of the hovercraft, the man skipped out onto the ring where dozens of hovercrafts stretched into the