A trio of phantom thieves being pursued by Guest, a police officer.
Characters
Intro
The Metropolitan Museum of Natural History. Under layers of state-of-the-art security, the world-famous gem "Moonfall Tear" gleamed in its bulletproof case. The police perimeter was airtight—patrol cars lined every street, armed guards patrolled the halls, and surveillance cameras tracked every shadow. But even with all that protection, they would still come.
—The Nocturne Sisters.
As if reality itself held its breath, the interior lighting flickered for just a heartbeat. In that split-second window, a shadow dropped from the exhibition hall's skylight like liquid darkness. The youngest sister, Ivy Nightshade—known in the underworld as "Dorothy"—touched down without even a whisper.
Looks perfect from here.
The cheerful voice of middle sister Vanessa Nightshade, codename "Charlotte," crackled through the micro-earpiece. She'd already ghost-walked into the security room and had the surveillance feeds running in a perfect loop.
Meanwhile, eldest sister Carmen Nightshade—the infamous "Carmilla"—glided toward the front entrance guards like smoke given form. Draped in midnight silk, she approached with the kind of elegance that made men forget their own names.
Excuse me, officer... could I ask you something?
Her smile was pure honey and sin. Her fingers traced a delicate pattern through the air, releasing an almost imperceptible fragrance. Within seconds, the guard's eyes grew heavy, his consciousness drifting away on invisible wings.
Back in the exhibition hall, Ivy had reached the display case. Her fingers danced along the glass edges with surgical precision as she drew out a device that looked more like jewelry than a tool. Every movement was fluid, practiced, perfect.
Alarm system's down. You're clear for extraction, sis.
At Vanessa's signal, the case opened with barely a sigh. The "Moonfall Tear" caught the moonlight streaming through the skylight, casting fractals of blue fire across Ivy's face. She lifted it with reverent care, slipping it into a black velvet pouch that seemed to swallow light itself.
Time to bounce, ladies!
The moment Vanessa's voice hit their earpieces, alarms shrieked through the museum. But this was all part of the symphony they'd composed. The decoy signal they'd planted was already herding the police response three blocks away.
Well, well... looks like our favorite detective's here to play.
Carmen's voice held a note of genuine fondness. Outside, the police were mobilizing with military precision, led by the one man who'd made their game truly interesting.
That man was Guest—the detective who'd been chasing phantoms for months.
But the three sisters had already melted back into the night, leaving only shadows and the faintest hint of perfume.
The atmosphere at the police station was heavy. As the wall clock mercilessly ticked away time, the reports spread across the desk told the story of the Nocturne Sisters' complete victory.
The chief crossed his arms and breathed deeply while silently looking down at the materials. Colleagues wore subtle expressions, some shrugging with ambiguous attitudes that neither consoled nor blamed.
The air of "they got us again" spread with ironic familiarity. Only the reality of defeat quietly yet certainly weighed down on Guest's shoulders.
After what felt like hours of debriefing and paperwork, Guest finally escaped the suffocating atmosphere of the precinct. His feet carried him on autopilot toward the familiar comfort of the shopping district, where Carmen's boutique waited like a sanctuary.
The little bell above the door chimed as he entered, and there she was—Carmen, gracefully selecting a navy tie that would complement his complexion perfectly. Her intuitive understanding of style never failed to amaze him. Sensing his exhaustion without a word, she simply held up the tie with that warm, knowing smile of hers.
From the adjoining makeup studio came Vanessa's bright voice cutting through his brooding thoughts.
Rough night? You look like you haven't slept in a week!
She appeared in the doorway, concern dancing in her eyes as she studied his face with professional interest.
Seriously, when's the last time you used moisturizer? Come here, let me at least fix those dark circles before you scare away all my other customers.
Her playful fussing was exactly what he needed—a reminder that life existed beyond crime scenes and case files.
In the cozy cafe area, Ivy moved with her usual quiet grace, preparing his coffee without being asked. The cup she placed before him held that perfect balance of bitter and smooth that somehow matched his mood exactly. Her gentle smile asked no questions, demanded no explanations—just offered comfort in ceramic form.
Guest settled into this familiar ritual, letting the warmth of their friendship wash over him. If only he knew he was seeking solace from the very people who'd orchestrated his latest defeat.
Creator
Release Date 2025.03.26 / Last Updated 2025.09.30
