AGENT MOON ; The Legend Of The Dark Agent

Stone Faces

The room was silent as the footage paused on the figure in the red coat. Still no face. Just a ghost in the dark, saluting the camera like they knew someone was watching.

Bert pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s twice now this bastard shows up and disappears like fog. And we’ve got zero on who they are.”

Carl tapped rapidly on the keyboard. “Actually… I ran a deep thermal backtrack on the warehouse footage. After the red coat vanished, I traced every heat signature that left that building. One of them didn’t match any of our intel.”

He turned the screen to face the team.

“Meet Jarek Stone.”

A photo popped up, a man in his mid-thirties, neat haircut, brown eyes, average height, plain clothes. He could have been anyone, a librarian, a cab driver, a bank teller.

Too clean. Too boring.

“He left the building just before our final sweep, pretending to be a paramedic on standby,” Carl explained. “He’s not in the system. No government job. No crime record. No history. But look…”

He pulled up a still image from the security footage.

Jarek was standing near the emergency van… talking to someone on a burner phone. Behind him, on the van's door, was a barely visible spray-painted symbol:

A red wolf head. Half-erased.

“Do we have a location?” Moon asked, her voice steady.

“Tracked his phone. He’s registered under a fake name and renting a small apartment in Sector 5, Warehouse District.” Carl looked up. “Should we move?”

Bert nodded. “Moon, take Morris and Prince. Go soft. We want him talking, not dead.”

Moon turned, already heading for the elevator. “Copy that.”

🏙️ Sector 5, Warehouse District

The apartment complex was quiet, gray walls, rusted railings, flickering hallway lights. A stray cat slinked past them as Moon, Prince, and Morris climbed the stairs to apartment 406.

Moon stopped just before the door and tilted her head.

Inside, faint movement. Someone was home.

She signaled.

Prince picked the lock in under seven seconds. The door creaked open, and Moon entered first, silent as shadow.

The apartment was sparsely furnished. Sofa. Old television. A stack of newspapers by the window.

And in the kitchen, standing in front of a kettle, was Jarek Stone.

He turned slowly as Moon stepped in, unfazed.

“I figured you’d come eventually,” he said. His voice was calm. Almost too calm.

Moon didn’t lower her gun. “You were at The Warehouse.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not one of them. But you’re not one of us, either. So what are you?”

He smiled faintly. “A mistake, probably. Or maybe the last man left who knows what they’re really planning.”

Moon narrowed her eyes.

“You know about the Red Wolves.”

Jarek paused, then nodded once. “I know more than anyone should. But if I talk, I die. If I don’t talk… we all die.”

Morris scoffed. “Dramatic much?”

But Moon’s eyes stayed locked on Jarek’s. “What do you know?”

Jarek exhaled. “They're not just kidnapping people. They’re building something. A weapon. A bioengineered program called Project Eden. And they need test subjects.”

“Children?” Moon asked coldly.

“Children. Adults. Anyone genetically viable. They’ve been collecting for years, slowly, under the radar. But the girls you rescued? They were Phase 2. Phase 3 is next.”

Prince stepped forward. “So who’s in charge?”

Jarek looked away. “I don’t know. I’ve only heard the name whispered: Gabriel.”

Jarek suddenly looked her in the eye. “But if you really want to find them, you’ll need more than guns and agents. You’ll need your memories back.”

Moon froze.

“What did you say?”

Jarek’s expression softened, but his voice dropped to a whisper.

“They didn’t just erase the children’s records. They erased you, too.”

Before she could respond, the window exploded.

BOOM!

Glass shattered as a smoke grenade clattered into the room, filling it with thick fog. Red light flashed through the haze.

“Move!” Prince shouted, pulling Moon back.

Gunfire rang out.

When the smoke cleared, Jarek was gone.

Back at HQ, Bert slammed his fist on the table.

“Damn it! They were watching him. The second he opened his mouth”

“They took him because he was telling the truth,” Moon said quietly.

Carl looked over. “And now?”

Moon’s voice was low. Focused.

“Now we find out who Gabriel is. And we find out what they did to me.”

The rain poured in slow sheets outside as Moon stood under the black umbrella, dressed in a modest maid uniform, her face bare of makeup and her hair tied into a simple bun. Gone was the cold, intimidating aura of Agent Moon now, she was Lucille Rivers, 22, recently employed domestic help.

The grand black iron gates of the Stone Estate creaked open.

She stepped forward.

The mission had been handed to her just the day before.

“His name was Jarek Stone,” Bert said in the dim-lit war room. “Publicly a historian, privately… something else.”

He threw a photo onto the table, a rugged, tan-skinned man. A quiet face, eyes sharp.

“He was killed in what the news is calling a car crash. But we believe it was an execution. Red Wolves got to him.”

Moon stared at the file. “And the USB?”

“With his son, Sammy Stone. Eight. We don’t know if he knows what it is.”

“And the family?”

“Elite. Rich. Private. His mother, Catherine Stone, controls the house. younger brother, Nicholas Stone, early twenties , military trained. Suspicious type. Sammy is the youngest. The most vulnerable.”

Bert met her eyes.

“You’re going in undercover. Get close to the boy. Protect him. Find that USB. And whatever you do, don't blow your cover.”

Back in the present, Moon stood before the front door.

A maid opened it. “You’re the new one?”

“Yes. Lucille Rivers. I was sent by the agency.”

The maid looked her up and down, unimpressed, and motioned her in. The interior of the house was stunning, marbled floors, tall windows, oil paintings on every wall. It was quiet… too quiet.

“Wait here,” the maid said.

Moments later, a voice rang down the marble staircase.

“So… this is the new girl.”

Moon looked up.

A tall woman with perfectly styled silver-streaked hair descended the stairs, her heels clicking against the marble. Her face was sharp, regal, the kind that looked carved from ice. Catherine Stone.

“Let’s be clear,” Catherine said. “You work, you keep quiet, and you stay out of matters that don’t concern you. I don’t like strangers in my house.”

“Yes ma’am,” Moon answered softly, bowing her head.

“And I especially don’t trust pretty young things who arrive right after my son's death,” she added, cold eyes narrowing.

Moon didn’t flinch. “I’m only here to serve, ma’am.”

Catherine gave her one last piercing glance, then turned.

“Martha will show you to your quarters. You’ll start in the laundry and kitchen. And do not, under any circumstance, go near my sons unless requested.”

Noted, Moon thought.

Later that evening, Moon was unloading sheets into the linen closet when she heard a door click behind her.

“Are you the new maid?”

She turned.

A young man with wavy brown hair and deep grey eyes stood at the end of the hallway, looking at her with quiet curiosity. Not hostile, just… sad.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I’m Sammy,” he said.

Moon blinked. “Lucille. I work here now, ill be ur nanny.”

Sammy offered a small smile. “cool, It’s weird having new people around. Ever since Dad…”

He trailed off.

Moon met his gaze. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “Well… welcome, I guess.”