That night, Damien walked to the cafeteria like he always did—alone, hands stuffed in his pockets. The road was quiet, the occasional hum of a passing surveillance drone overhead making him glance nervously up.
Inside the cafeteria, he ordered the cheapest meal on the menu, sliding onto a table far away from the crowd. He kept his head low, but his eyes were scanning everything—the workers, the security drones, the exits. His gaze darted between the windows and the kitchen, tracing blind spots and escape routes like a hawk.
He stayed longer than usual, wandering around with his tray, touching things here and there like he was bored. Nobody thought much of it.
By the time the closing bell rang, his plan was clear in his mind.
He stepped out into the night, a big grin spreading across his face.
"Heh... This is going to be an easy peasy job."
---
On the way back to his dorm, he went over every step in his mind, rethinking and perfecting it.
By the time he reached his door, the plan was airtight.
Inside, he opened his closet and pulled out every piece of black clothing he owned.
"Let's see... black winter innerwear, black pants, black socks, black shoes, and this winter cap. Perfect."
Damien tore an old black shirt into a strip and tied it around his mouth like a makeshift mask.
Standing in front of the mirror, he looked himself over.
"Not bad. Even if someone sees me, they won't recognize me. Now, just gotta wait for the right time..."
---
The clock struck midnight.
Heavily Breathing in and out, trying to calm his nerves.
"I can do this, I can do this..." He whispered the words like a mantra as he creaked open the dorm door.
The night air was cool, and the streetlights illuminated everything in sight. He groaned.
"All this light makes my black outfit completely useless."
Worse, there were more drones patrolling than he'd expected.
The cafeteria is not more than 15 min at normal speed, road filled with plants and trees at both the side.
"Everything is easy but crossing that wide road between Avenue and forecourt is troublesome that requires perfectly timed and perfect execution."
Down at the forecourt surveillance drones are less so moving unnoticed inside the forecourt relatively easy by taking cover of trees.
But as he getting near of the entrance he was getting more serious since he will not get any second to take a breather to muster up courage but need to pass all the consecutive blind spot that drons creates there for split of seconds.
Just before the entrance he slow down a little waiting for perfectly positioned of drons to make the blind spots consecutively. And when the drone is about to take the turn he speed up and jump after reaching the entrance and rolled over the wide road then take a side dash to take cover of the tree on the right side of the avenue.
He pressed his back against the tree, panting heavily.
"Huff...Huff..."
"Good thing I perfectly remembered the how the spy of cult in hostel took advantage of these blind spots to meet there members. Otherwise, I'd have been caught in no time."
The drones moved in predictable patterns, each turn creating a blind spot lasting exactly one second.
At the avenue which has less lights compared to forecourt moving by taking cover of trees was easy.
He darted forward, hiding in the shadows of trees and buildings, timing his movements perfectly with the drones' rotations. His heart pounded in his chest as he narrowly avoided one drone's sweeping light.
Finally, he reached the cafeteria. Hiding behind a row of dumpsters in the alley, he caught his breath.
"Okay... step one done."
He crept further down the alley, stopping in front of a loose window he'd tampered with earlier that day. It was still slightly ajar.
"Looks like they didn't fix it. Lucky me."
He opened the window, the faint creak making him freeze. Nothing. He exhaled slowly.
"Quick in and quick out. Just grab and leave."
---
The cafeteria was eerily quiet. There was faint light illuminating the cafeteria coming from outside.
Shadows stretched across the tiled walls, and the faint glow of streetlights filtered through the windows.
His footsteps echoed softly as he moved toward the kitchen.
Hiding under tables, crouching through prep table hiding from the gleaming red eye of cameras.
Finally reached near drawer.
Huff.. Huff.. panting heavily sitting beside drawer.
"Damn, the sweat I've poured for stealing a single knife could've been enough to rob a jewelry store," he muttered, opening the drawer.
Inside, the knives gleamed in neat rows. His eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face.
"Jackpot."
He quickly shoved several spare knives into a small bag. But the drawer looked too empty—too suspicious. He frowned, scratching his head. Then, with a mischievous smirk, he started shuffling the remaining utensils, mixing spoons and spatulas into complete chaos.
"Perfect. Now they'll never know what's missing."
As he turned, his eyes fell on a long rod leaning against the counter. It looked out of place, its surface etched with faint patterns.
He picked it up, waving it experimentally. It felt heavier than expected.
"No idea what this is, but it might come in handy."
He shoved it into his bag, covering it with his winter innerwear, before slipping out the way he came.
The journey back was just as tense. He timed his movements carefully, avoiding the drones' lights, until he finally reached his dorm.
---
Damien opened the door, stepping inside and locking it behind him. Sweat dripped from his face as he threw off the uncomfortable black clothes.
He collapsed onto the bed, the bag of knives and the rod beside him.
"Haha... I got not one but five knives!" he said, sitting up and dumping them onto the bed.
He picked up the chef knife first. Looking at all those knives he said.
"I never thought I there would a lots of knives, I can not stop myself." He sighed thinking the worst.
"This one's the biggest. There was an even bigger one, but it didn't have a spare, so I had to leave it. Shame."
Next, he grabbed the slicing knife, its sleek blade catching his eye. He waved it in the air, testing its weight.
"This one's my favorite. Let's see what you've got."
Activating EYES OF THE OBSERVER, his eyes widened at the information that appeared.
"Polishing?" he shouted.
The soundproof walls muffled his voice, but he slumped back on the bed, groaning.
"huu... polishing! These task already takes more than hour. Why does it have to be polishing?"
He tossed the knife onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in defeat.
"Whatever. I'll deal with it tomorrow..."
The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out cold.