“Strength, confidence and invincibility had to exude from him at all times. Any vacuum in power could lead to injury, betrayal or death.” ― Neil Walker (Drug Gang Vengeance)

  * * * *

  The engine screamed under Zest’s foot, and the reinforced car rattled with every pothole and crack as it tore down the frost-bitten road. Wind howled past the cracked windowpanes, hissing like ghosts of those who had died on this same soil, sacrificed on the altar of fear and hate.

  In the distance, the mountains cast long shadows across the land, and a faint veil of mist clung to the valley leading into Blackpool, where the last stand of a dying regime waited with teeth bared.

  Inside the car, Sera sat rigid, her fingers clutching the inner handle of the door so tightly that her knuckles had gone bone white. Her heart pounded in her ears—not from fear, but from the weight of everything riding on this moment. The silence between her and Zest was loud with the unspoken understanding that the road they were on had no return.

  Zest didn’t speak. His red eyes were narrowed and trained on the horizon, his jaw clenched, and every muscle in his lean frame coiled like a wire pulled taut. He drove like a man possessed, knuckles tight on the wheel, the flame-patterned hoodie he wore rustling in the wind leaking in from a cracked window.

  The digital display on the dashboard blinked urgently. Beyond the windshield, the gates of Blackpool loomed closer—huge, iron-forged, and crowned with barbed wire and automated cannons. It looked less like a town entrance and more like a fortress built by those who believed themselves gods.

  Behind them stretched the heart of the resistance: convoys of armoured vans, repurposed utility trucks with steel plating welded over rust, motorcycles with side-mounted guns, and even makeshift tanks scrounged from old ESA blueprints. The battered but determined remnants of Aegis, Ashenridge, Blade, Zalfari, and Abyss rumbled forward in silence.

  Team Alpha and Team Delta, once loyal soldiers of the ESA, now rode alongside former enemies. Their weapons were ready. Their eyes locked forward. All of them understood what today meant. This was not a skirmish. This was the end.

  Sera’s breath fogged the air. Her fingers brushed against the walkie-talkie wedged between her seat and Zest’s, and she could already hear voices filtering through.

  “Approaching coordinates. Thirty seconds out from the west gate.”

  That was Lleucu—calm, and almost bored in tone, but she could hear the steel beneath. Beside him, she knew Jamie would already be loading up his gun, that familiar white streak in his hair now matted from hours of dust and wind.

  “East gate on target. No visual on reinforcements yet. Confirming detonation orders?”

  That was Alexis, efficient and clipped, likely sitting beside Ethan, both ready to blow open the east barricade the moment the order was given.

  “North team ready,” came Hayder’s low, rumbling voice, distorted slightly by static. “Waiting for your go, Sera.”

  Her throat felt dry. She grabbed the walkie-talkie and pressed the call button. “Ten seconds from impact.”

  “Same with us.” Lleucu’s voice again.

  “Ten seconds with us too!” Alexis added, a note of tension creeping into his voice.

  Zest didn’t hesitate. He pushed down harder on the accelerator. The tires shrieked in protest, and the engine roared like a beast finally let loose after years in chains. The car surged forward with a force that pinned Sera back in her seat.

  And then…

  There they were. The outer barricades.

  A thin line of hunters stood scattered before the gates, no more than a dozen of them, most barely older than recruits, their eyes too wide. They clutched their rifles like lifelines, shouting commands with voices too high, and too unsure. Their uniforms hung slightly loose on them, the crests on their shoulders shining with that grotesque eye shrouded in flames—once a symbol of honour, now stained with blood and cruelty.

  “Stop! Stop, or we’ll shoot!” One of them cried, waving his arms.

  Zest’s foot didn’t move.

  Sera felt the moment stretch, elongated in the silence of anticipation, as the car hurtled forward, the metal screaming, and the tires screeching, with the sunlight glinting off the windshield like a warning. The boy shouting wasn’t even aiming properly. He looked terrified, his lips trembling, his hands slick with sweat.

  Then it was too late.

  Zest rammed the car straight through the steel barricades with the sound of metal tearing, warping like it was paper in a storm. One unfortunate soul didn’t move in time. Sera didn’t flinch when his body slammed against the hood and then vanished beneath the tires, tossed like a rag doll into the dust.

  There was no time for guilt. Not today.

  The reinforced car groaned as they burst through the blockade. A wave of chaos erupted behind them. Gunfire exploded. Screams cut through the air. Through the shattered rearview mirror, Sera caught glimpses of the rest of the convoy charging in, plowing over the defences, gunning down the hunters with brutal efficiency.

  Behind the barricade, the gates of Blackpool towered like a dying titan trying to bar them from the truth.

  Zest’s voice broke the silence. “Brace for impact.”

  Sera gritted her teeth and leaned into her seat. Her pulse was a drumbeat in her ears. Her fingers hovered over the strap securing her handgun to her thigh. Her other hand clenched the walkie-talkie.

  The gates filled the windshield.

  Five seconds.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two—

  The impact was explosive. The reinforced front of the car smashed into the steel gates with a scream of metal on metal, shearing hinges clean off, sending fragments of iron flying through the air.

  The entire gate shuddered and crumbled inward like a dying beast collapsing to its knees. The car barrelled forward through the wreckage, finally skidding to a halt in a wide arc just past the threshold.

  Smoke and dust filled the air. Gunfire rang from the shadows.

  Sera and Zest didn’t waste a second.

  The doors flew open, and they emerged into the chaos like shadows made real. Sera’s boots hit the ground, the weight of her coat whipping around her. Her fingers were already on her pistols, both pulled and firing in seamless succession.

  Bullets cut down the first wave of hunters—one, two, three—before they even had time to react.

  Zest mirrored her on the opposite side of the car, crouched low, firing from behind the open door. His hoodie flared behind him as he moved, the dagger tattoo on his neck catching the light, his crimson eyes glowing like embers.

  The street beyond the gates erupted.

  Hunters spilled out of alleys and makeshift bunkers, their faces twisted in alarm and disbelief. Some fired. Most screamed.

  Sera ducked behind the door, then rose and threw a telekinetic blast with a flick of her hand. It hit a squad of hunters and sent them flying like broken toys against a concrete wall. Another round of gunfire rang out, and someone behind them yelled as they unloaded into a small guard post now crumbling from explosives planted by the lead truck.

  The rest of the convoy surged through the gates like a flood loose from a dam.

  Teams Alpha and Delta emerged from armoured vans, spreading out with military precision, guns barking. Ashenridge fighters followed close behind, battle-worn, desperate, but fuelled by righteous fury. Aegis was the last to step through, their silhouettes framed in dust and fire, like vengeance made flesh.

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  Sera pulled her walkie-talkie close and pressed the button, her voice calm despite the roaring blood in her ears. “We’re in.”

  Her eyes met Zest’s. His gaze was sombre but resolute. “This is it.”

  Her heartbeat slowed and steadied, even as explosions rang out from the west, with Lleucu and Jamie breaching the west gate, and distant detonations echoed from the north and east.

  Sera nodded once, slowly, her expression unreadable.

  “Let’s end this.”

  * * * *

  The world was on fire.

  Or at least it felt that way to Lucie Dressen, whose lungs burned with the stench of smoke and blood, whose boots kicked up ash from the ground as she sprinted through the chaos. She hadn’t even had time to catch her breath after tearing through Blackpool’s southern gate behind Sera and Zest—because the moment they breached the walls, the hunters descended.

  Not just soldiers. Monsters.

  Some of them had glowing veins across their necks and temples, their eyes lit with unnatural hues—sickly red or electric blue, betraying their usage of Blue Pandora. They moved erratically, and unnaturally fast, snarling as they lunged at anything Gifted.

  It was like trying to fight lightning trapped inside flesh, raw and unstable, burning through their own humanity with every step they took. And still, they kept coming.

  “They’ve dosed on Pandora!” Raul shouted, his voice nearly drowned by the symphony of violence.

  Lucie didn’t need the warning. The first one she’d torched had come at her with blood streaming from his nose, screaming like a banshee as if the power inside him was eating him alive. He never made it within a foot of her before she scorched him to ash with a burst of flame that licked the sides of nearby buildings. Her hands were trembling.

  Not from fear, but rage.

  “They’re using anti-Gifted rounds!” Someone else shouted—maybe Taylor, maybe Elijah, she couldn’t tell over the gunfire and screams. “Watch yourselves!”

  “No problem,” Lucie muttered grimly, and then unleashed another jet of fire into a group of approaching hunters. Ten bodies dropped instantly, scorched, limbs twisted. A few of the former ESA agents nearby, the ones who had never seen her fight up close, flinched visibly.

  Remi stared at her like she was some kind of weapon made flesh.

  “We can’t leave them alive, right?” Lucie said, almost to herself, but loud enough for them to hear.

  No one answered.

  She didn’t expect them to. She didn’t even look at Jonan. Or Kailey. She hadn’t spoken a word to either of them all day—not during the war council, not during the morning briefing, and not when they broke through Blackpool’s gate together in the same damn convoy.

  There was a knot in her chest she hadn’t dared untangle, and she couldn’t afford to now. Not when the streets were painted with blood, not when a nation’s fate hung in the balance.

  From the smoke-choked side alley just ahead, figures emerged. Not hunters, but civilians.

  Townspeople.

  Lucie halted, skidding slightly on the cracked pavement. Her heart jolted as the figures came into full view. It wasn’t just adults. There were teenagers among them, and children clinging to the hems of coats, hiding behind trembling arms.

  The adults, mostly men, were armed with rifles, shotguns, and the occasional salvaged pistol. Others held metal pipes, crowbars, or baseball bats with nails hammered into them. Makeshift armour cobbled together from scraps—kitchen pads, work gloves, and even garbage can lids strapped to forearms.

  There were maybe twenty of them. No. Thirty? Forty? The crowd kept growing behind them, pouring out from the side streets like a tide of denial.

  “Stop!” One of them yelled. A middle-aged man with greying hair and bloodshot eyes. “You’re not welcome here!”

  “You’re the Gifted!” Someone else screamed. “Get out of our town!”

  Lucie’s flames flickered uncertainly in her palm. “They’re… They’re just civilians,” she said, her voice taut with disbelief.

  Behind her, Raul cursed under his breath. Elijah lowered his gun but kept his finger near the trigger. Leonid had already created a wall of water in front of a group of hunters on the flank, but even he hesitated, his dark blue eyes flickering to the crowd.

  “What the hell…?” Elijah whispered. “They actually believe Nicolosi’s lies.”

  “Haven’t you seen the broadcast?!” Raul shouted toward them, gesturing with his arm. “The hunters killed the Council! They slaughtered everyone at ESA headquarters! They blew it up!”

  “Those are lies!” Someone spat back. It was a woman in her early thirties, with a bandana over her head and a shotgun trembling in her grip. “The hunters are protecting us! You freaks are the ones tearing Eldario apart!”

  “They’re all as crazy as Nicolosi,” Elijah muttered through gritted teeth.

  The former ESA agents amongst their midst froze. Years of training screamed in their minds: do not harm civilians. Even now, even here, with the civilians standing in front of them, holding weapons meant to kill.

  Sera walked forward then.

  It was quiet, almost eerily so, how she moved through the battlefield smoke and blood, past the burning wreck of a hunter’s van, her scarf fluttering behind her in the ash-filled breeze. Her eyes, glowing faintly now in a way that made the nearest civilians inch backward without realising it, were locked ahead, and filled with something that no longer resembled patience.

  Her boots crunched glass underfoot as she raised a single hand.

  And with that motion, every single weapon—rifle, crowbar, handgun, makeshift blade, was ripped from the townspeople’s hands with a force like a hurricane’s breath. They flew backward, clattering against the walls of nearby buildings, shattering windows and crumpling into mangled piles of scrap.

  Sparks crackled on the ground where her power hummed, arcs of lightning splitting small stones.

  Sera didn’t raise her voice, but it cut through the chaos like the crack of a whip. “If you don’t want to be electrocuted to death,” she said, her eyes narrowed, gritting her teeth, “then I suggest you move.”

  Silence.

  Then a whisper rippled through the townspeople like a plague.

  “It’s her…”

  “The Death Reaper…”

  Even the children flinched and stepped back, dragging their parents with them.

  Sera didn’t speak again. She didn’t have to. The message had been delivered.

  It was Raul, flanked by Laura and Letha, who stepped forward next, their weapons drawn, and their eyes hard.

  “Move. Now,” Raul barked, his voice ice-cold. “Or we’ll stop being nice.”

  One by one, the civilians turned and scattered—some running, others limping, some in tears, dragging family members behind them. A few dropped to the ground, their hands over their heads, too afraid to even flee. The former ESA agents stared, their expressions grim, as the veil of innocence was torn away from Blackpool’s people, revealing the blind loyalty and fear Nicolosi had cultivated like a sickness.

  And still, the battle roared around them.

  From the alleyways and rooftops, hunters fired—some ordinary soldiers, others foaming at the mouth, their bodies pulsing with the telltale glow of Blue Pandora overdose. One of them let out an inhuman screech before lunging forward, and met a bullet from Laura’s sidearm between the eyes.

  Sera pulled out a flare gun from her coat pocket, and fired a red flare into the sky.

  The agreed upon signal.

  Moments later, red sparks arced high from the west, east, and north sectors of Blackpool—simultaneous bursts lighting up the smoky daylight like fireworks of war.

  Lleucu’s signal. Hayder’s. Ethan’s.

  The world seemed to still for a heartbeat.

  And then, Zest’s voice rang out beside her, breathless from sprinting, flames licking the edges of his sleeves.

  “We’re heading to the hunter headquarters. Nicolosi is in there.”

  Everyone turned toward the looming spire at the center of town—the hunters’ central stronghold.

  Its black walls shimmered with reinforced plating, its windows long boarded over. A flag hung from the top with the hunter insignia.

  “Don’t let him escape,” Letha said firmly, stepping beside Sera. Her blue eyes were cold and unreadable, her fingertips twitching with the energy of the dead she could call upon if she needed to.

  “We’ll take care of the ground,” Laura added. “Not a single hunter will leave this place alive.”

  Sera turned one last time toward her team. Toward Laura, Kailey, Lucie, Neil, and Letha.

  “As for the townspeople…” Sera’s voice was soft, but lethal in its calm. “I’ll leave it to your decision. If they force your hand, then you might have no choice.”

  And with that, she turned toward the heart of Blackpool, with Raul, Zest, and Rex flanking her on either side.

  Toward the final reckoning. And the reckoning was about to begin.

  * * * *

  “Watch the ones with glowing eyes!” Laura’s voice rang out through the chaos, sharp and commanding. “They’re dosed up!”

  That was the only warning they got before two of the more agile hunters flung themselves toward Lucie, their movements unnaturally fast, their bodies twisting with bone-popping contortions that no ordinary human should have been capable of.

  Their eyes—bright blue and red, respectively, burned with something far worse than anger. It was obsession. Zealotry. Frenzy. Madness.

  Lucie didn’t hesitate.

  A wave of fire erupted from her palms, blistering heat surging into the air like a wall of fury. It didn’t matter anymore. Morality had blurred long ago.

  These weren’t men. These were weapons, bred and broken by Nicolosi’s vision of purity.

  Lucie scorched one of them clean through the chest, the stench of burning leather and flesh hitting her nose before he crumpled to the street with a crackling scream.

  The other one charged in spite of it, a dagger drawn, slashing at her with wild, rapid movements. She dodged left, caught his arm with her flame, twisted it, and then pivoted on instinct, only to miss the glint of silver from the edge of her peripheral vision.

  A gun.

  A rookie hunter, barely more than a boy, his uniform too loose on his frame, his eyes wide with something that wasn’t hatred but fear, was pointing a sidearm straight at her. His hands trembled violently, his trigger finger jerking with indecision. She barely registered the action, too focused on the soldier in front of her.

  Then…

  “Lucie! Watch out!”

  A sharp scream tore through the chaos, and in the next breath, the world shifted.

  The gunshot rang out like a crack of thunder, and Lucie turned just in time to see a blur of lavender rush past her vision. Time slowed.

  The sound of a body hitting the ground. A gasp. A thud.

  Kailey.

  Lucie’s breath caught in her throat as she whirled around, and then everything inside her went cold.

  Kailey lay in a crumpled heap against the side of a broken pillar, her lavender jacket already soaked through with blood. Neil was beside her in an instant, dropping to his knees with a choked, “Kailey!”

  Lucie was moving before she even registered it, her heart pounding against her ribs like a war drum. She fell to Kailey’s side and froze at the sight: the entry wound was small, but angry and dark, and already, thick black veins were spreading outward from it like spider legs, etching corruption beneath her skin.

  Jonan paled as he caught sight of it from a few feet away. “Anti-Gifted round…”

  Neil’s voice trembled, caught between disbelief and horror. “No… No, not her…”

  Lucie didn’t waste time. “Help me get her to cover!” she snapped, already hauling Kailey into her arms. Her friend was light. Too light. Her skin already clammy.

  Neil and Jonan moved on instinct. Neil created a shimmering barrier behind them to block the gunfire from the street, while Jonan grabbed his detonator pouch, tossing a few timed explosives behind them for cover before they vanished into a narrow alley shadowed by broken balconies and burning rooftops. The roar of the battle outside faded just a little, muffled by stone and brick.

  Lucie set Kailey down gently, her fingers fumbling to open the medical kit slung over her shoulder.

  “Do you know how to remove the bullet?” Neil asked, his voice tight, panic only barely suppressed.

  Lucie gave a quick nod, her hands already working. “Kailey taught me. A few months ago. Said I needed to know this in case something happened to her. I just didn’t think…” Her voice caught. “I didn’t think it’d be now.”

  Her fingers were trembling, but she forced herself to breathe. Focus. And to stay calm.

  “They’re poison,” Lucie muttered under her breath. “Those rounds… They’re worse than Morning Star. If we don’t get it out in time…”

  She didn’t finish the sentence.

  Neil stood just beyond the mouth of the alley, conjuring shield after shield to block incoming attacks. Outside, the fight was escalating—more hunters, more Gifted screams, and somewhere, the sickening snarl of one of Nicolosi’s war hounds rang out like a death bell.

  Jonan, for his part, had turned into a ghost of rage, slamming one of the frenzied hunters into the alley wall with a precisely tossed explosive, then stabbing him through the throat with a hunting knife.

  Meanwhile, Lucie worked, her hands bloodied, and her brow furrowed.

  The bullet was buried deep. She cursed beneath her breath, her fingers slick with blood as she reached inside the wound. Kailey had passed out, or so she thought.

  “Lucie…”

  The name was barely a whisper, but it hit her like lightning.

  Lucie froze.

  Kailey’s eyes were fluttering open, her voice hoarse and fragile, barely audible beneath the explosions outside and the crackle of distant flames.

  “You awake?” Lucie murmured, brushing strands of raven hair from her friend’s pale face.

  Kailey didn’t nod. She just blinked slowly, her lips trembling as she tried to form words. “S’rry…” she whispered. “I…never meant to hurt you…”

  Lucie’s throat tightened.

  Kailey’s eyes were wet, her voice shaky. “I didn’t want to choose. Between you…and Jonan. You’re my best friend. And he… He matters to me, too. He’s important to me. I can’t choose. I just… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Lucie felt the burn behind her eyes before she even realised she was crying. Just a little. Just enough.

  “I’m not mad at you,” she said quietly, as she pulled the bloodied bullet free with a shaky breath. “Not anymore.”

  Kailey blinked. “You’re not?”

  “I wanted to be. I tried to be,” Lucie muttered. “But it’s not really Jonan’s fault, is it? The hunters brought Team Alpha to Agnis that day. Jonan might have been the one to pull the trigger that killed my dad, but he was just used by the hunters. Like how the hunters tried to use us. It’s Nicolosi. All of it. It’s always been him.” She breathed. “That’s why… You stay alive and make this up to me.”

  Kailey’s lips quirked into the ghost of a smile. “You…still sound like the Lucie I remember.”

  Lucie grabbed a surgical thread and needle, stitching Kailey up with as much precision as she could manage under the pressure. Kailey winced, but her eyes remained open.

  “You remembered what I taught you,” she whispered.

  “Of course I did,” Lucie muttered. “Can’t have you as Aegis’s only healer. What if you die on me, huh? My Gift isn’t meant for healing, but someone has to know how to do this.”

  Kailey gave a tired, watery smile. “You used to say you wanted my abilities. But you don’t know how many times I wished I had yours instead.”

  Lucie stilled, looking at her.

  “You protected Aegis so many times,” Kailey went on, her voice faint. “I felt so useless… My Gift is just healing and defence. Yours is fire. You burn down everything in your way. You saved people. But you always made me feel like I mattered. That I wasn’t just the medic.” Her gaze turned glassy. “Please don’t hate me. I don’t want to die thinking you hate me.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Lucie snapped, her voice thick with unspoken emotion. “I won’t let you.”

  There was a beat. Then Neil, still on alert just outside, turned back. “She going to be okay?”

  Lucie nodded. “Bullet didn’t hit anything vital. I got it out fast. She’s stable. But she can’t keep fighting.”

  Kailey’s eyes fluttered closed, and Lucie smoothed a hand over her friend’s forehead, her heart still hammering in her chest.

  Outside, the war for Eldario raged on. But in this tiny alley of scorched stone and blood-soaked cement, two friends had found each other again. And that, at least, was a small kind of victory.