“Vengeance in bloom shone in her eyes and smiled on her lips.” ― Alexandre Dumas (Twenty Years After)

  * * * *

  The walk to Nicolosi’s office was steeped in silence. Not a word passed between them. Sera had half-expected hunters or war hounds to bar their path. But none came.

  Or rather, they had. They just aren’t breathing.

  “Clean cuts. Fatal ones,” Zest murmured, crouching beside the first cluster of bodies strewn across the corridor on the first level. His gloved fingers brushed the blood-slick floor. “Whoever did this wasn’t sloppy. No hesitation. They’re not amateurs. If I had to guess… One of their own. Someone high-ranking.”

  “Makes sense,” Rex muttered, biting his thumb in thought. “Only hunters have access to this place. Leroy and the others are handling the command center. We’ll just have to hope they make it out.”

  “We move,” Larissa cut in, cold and curt. “We don’t have time to stall.”

  Navigating the hunters’ headquarters was like threading a needle through a labyrinth. Without the blueprints salvaged by the Abyss and Raul’s hacked overlays, they would’ve been disoriented within minutes.

  The building itself was a fortress, rigged for lockdown the moment the gates of Blackpool fell. Every hallway was sealed tight. Every corridor was a trap waiting to spring. But Raul had overridden every locked terminal they encountered, his fingers flying across his portable device like a pianist commanding a storm.

  Without him, they would’ve never made it past the first level.

  And then, at last, they reached the top of the central wing.

  Two towering black steel doors stood before them, seamless and grim.

  “This is it,” Raul said quietly, already working at the lock, code spilling in rhythmic bursts across his screen. “This has to be where Nicolosi’s hiding.”

  “The sooner this ends, the better,” Hayder muttered, his gaze flickering to the nearest shattered window. Beyond it, the muffled roar of distant gunfire and explosions still echoed through the city.

  Time was running out.

  There was the sound of a sharp beep. Then a mechanical click, even as the lights on the access panel blinked red, then green, and the doors unlocked.

  Raul rose to his feet, but no one moved.

  For a moment, the silence returned. They exchanged glances, a silent calculus of dread and purpose.

  Sera’s voice broke the hush, quiet but steady. “This is it, then. The last door… If I step through these doors, will I leave my past behind?”

  No one answered. But Rex grimaced, understanding exactly what she meant.

  Zest was the first to speak. “Then let’s end it.”

  Sera nodded once. “Let’s go.”

  Together, the six of them stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the room beyond, into whatever waited at the end of their war.

  * * * *

  The room beyond was dark, with the only light source being that of the dim fluorescent lights above the sole bed in the room. There was the strong scents of antiseptic and medicines, with even the faint stale scent of blood lingering in the air, even as they entered the room.

  Rather than the office of the highest ranking authority in the Hunter Organisation, and also the man who’d wrecked havoc in Eldario for a little more than a year, it seems more like a hospital room. Or even a hospice.

  And there he was.

  Albert Nicolosi lay reclined against the pristine white sheets, pale beneath the hum of machines. An IV line snaked into his wrist, the bag above it pulsing with a deep crimson fluid—the perfected form of Blue Pandora. The ever-present bandages that once wrapped his torso and arms since Blackpool were gone, discarded in a soiled pile beside him. Blood had seeped through the wrappings, staining the table like accusations.

  His exposed skin was red, raw, and blistered. The air reeked of antibiotics and disinfectant, and Sera could tell—he’d been fighting a serious infection. And losing.

  He really should have died that day within Claudia’s wind barrier when Ness had ignited his explosives. Every single hunter present that day had all perished. But somehow, Nicolosi had survived, and was even on his feet less than a week later, though severely weakened.

  It is probably only due to the fact that he had doped up on Blue Pandora that is the only reason why he’d survived.

  Larissa is the first one to break the shocked silence. “Well, well, Albert Nicolosi,” she said at last. “It’s been quite awhile. I really wanted to say I’m surprised at the state you’re in, but I’m not. What surprises me is that you survived Blackpool, when every other hunter that night didn’t.”

  ““Yes,” Nicolosi rasped, his voice like sandpaper. His eyes were wild, reflecting the madness within him. “Look what I’ve become! Thanks to that cursed Gifted girl and her wretched brother!”

  “If not for the fact that you’re doped up on Blue Pandora, I’ll guess that you would have died that night at Claudia and Ness’s hands,” Zest murmured, his tone like cold steel. “Pity. You should have died that night, Nicolosi.”

  A hoarse laugh spilled from Nicolosi’s lips. “The Goddess hasn’t abandoned me yet,” he hissed.

  “The Goddess, huh?” Rex murmured, his voice dangerous. “Funny. I thought you were an atheist. And yet now, you cling to faith like it’ll cleanse your sins. Do you honestly believe you’ll still know the Goddess’s embrace, especially after what you’ve done?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Project Nona—even if you weren’t there at the beginning. The mass exterminations. The hunts. Blue Pandora. Red Pandora. The experiments. The ESA. The Council. You didn’t just stain your hands with blood. You drowned an entire nation in it. I’ve studied Eldario’s history. And never, not once, has anyone brought it to its knees the way you have. It’s almost impressive.”

  Rex exhaled slowly. “When you die, do you think your loved ones will welcome you with open arms? Do you think you’ll know the Goddess’s embrace? No. If there’s a Hell, Nicolosi, that’s where you’ll be going.”

  “Fool!” Nicolosi snarled. “I am this country’s saviour!”

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  “You’re not a saviour,” Raul snapped. “You’re just insane! What was it all for, huh? What did we ever do to deserve this? Why do you hate the Gifted so much? What have we ever done to you?”

  “It’s unnatural!” Nicolosi snarled. “Humans should not wield such power!”

  “Except you, right?” Larissa’s lip curled, disgusted. “Somehow, it’s always different when it’s you.”

  Several long moments of silence lapsed in the room, and with the way that Nicolosi was continuously looking towards the door, everyone present could guess the reason why.

  Hayder shook his head. “If you’re waiting for your brainwashed puppets, continue waiting,” he said. “Do you honestly believe that we would come straight into your territory without a plan? And without several backup plans in place? Leroy and the remnants of Blade are already clearing the building.”

  As if summoned, the steel doors creaked open. Leroy stepped in, flanked by Jamie and Lleucu, their expressions grim.

  “No one will be coming.” Leroy said coldly. “Not anymore.”

  Nicolosi’s eyes snapped towards the new arrivals.

  “Your crimes were too much even for your second-in-command to stomach.” Leroy directed this statement to Nicolosi. “After killing every last hunter and war hound in this building, Rowena Vallen turned her gun on herself. Her last act of rebellion was choosing death while she could still call herself human.”

  “Alisa and Wes went to assist the rest of our forces,” Lleucu added. “From what we’re hearing, it’s almost over. Blue Pandora or not, frenzied or not, your forces and your brainwashed sycophants are no match for the fury of the Abyss and the underground. Not after what you’ve done to them for decades.”

  “And let’s not forget the former ESA among us,” Jamie said. “Your soldiers—the ones you created and trained to hunt those that are different, are now being torn apart by the very people you despised and loathed. Not a single hunter is going to escape our net, or even leave alive. And if those brainwashed idiots you call Blackpool’s citizens turn on us as well…” He shrugged. “Well, let’s just say that I hope for their sakes that they have their affairs in order.”

  Nicolosi trembled. There was visible rage in his eyes, but there was also fear visible in those orbs.

  “It’s over, Nicolosi,” Zest said flatly.

  “It’s not over yet.” Nicolosi growled, his voice cracking. “It will not be over until I say it’s over!”

  “It’s done, Nicolosi!” Sera snapped. “You’ve lost. You should have seen this coming the moment you committed all those atrocities! It’s enough. Eldario has bled enough. How much more will satisfy you? Will you only stop when you’re standing alone atop a mountain of corpses?”

  “It’s not over yet!” Nicolosi shrieked, his gaze darting wildly between them. Madness swirled in his eyes like a storm. “You call me a monster. But what about you?” He glared at Sera and Zest in particular, who much to their credit, didn’t so much as flinch. “Do your so-called ‘friends’ even know who you really are, Zexter?”

  “If you’re asking whether we know he was once the captain of your hit-squad,” Jamie replied flatly, “then yes, we do.”

  Zest flinched.

  “I had my suspicions during our Blade days.” Jamie’s eyes flickered towards Zest. “No one’s that good in a fight. Not unless they’ve seen real blood. Someone like him, with that much skill and zero history in Eldario’s underground? It didn’t add up. I figured if he’s an unknown, then the only other explanation is that Zest might be affiliated with the hunters. But I said nothing. Because it wasn’t my business. Sera trusted him. That was enough.”

  Zest’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.

  “Anyone who spends enough time in the underground eventually becomes a killer,” Leroy said, his voice flat. “We all know that. Especially the Gifted. Always, at some point in a Gifted’s life, they will have to take a life in order to survive.”

  “The underground’s one true law: survival of the fittest,” Larissa added. “Especially amongst the Gifted. Only the really skilled ones survive long enough to see adulthood.”

  No one answered. Not Sera, not Zest, not Rex, not Raul. The others in the room remained silent too, their eyes cast down or narrowed in thought.

  Because it was true. Every word of it.

  In Eldario’s underworld, there was no space for weakness. No reward for mercy. In a land built on blood and betrayal, where strength alone was the currency of survival, they had done whatever it took to make it this far.

  Even the Normals among them—Zest, Leroy, Jamie, Lleucu, Hayder, Larissa, and Rex—they knew the truth.

  They were killers, plain and simple. Every single one of them were prepared for what they had to do the moment they picked up their first weapon, and had come to terms with what they were a long time ago.

  “I’m not going to deny anything that you said, especially as every word is true,” Sera said at last. Leroy looked at her, surprised. “I don’t regret anything that I’ve done.” She exhaled. “A long time ago, after Project Nonary when I was brought into the Abyss, one of the people in the Abyss told me this once: when you choose to live, you also choose to die. So I ask, what you’re doing now, Nicolosi… Is this what you call living?”

  Her eyes locked onto his. “The only way to be alive is to not be dead. Or in other terms, to deny death. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? You have to one day accept the fact that you are but mortal, and that you will, someday in the future, die. That is the way of all things living.”

  “Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Someday, you won’t be able to do the things you take for granted. One day, your body will fail. Your mind will slip. No matter your rank, your blood, or your beliefs. Death doesn’t discriminate. No matter who you are, everyone meets Death in the end.”

  She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “Whatever decisions and actions that you make in your lifetime, you need to have the courage to be able to hold your head up high and not regret it, knowing that you did your best. I’m not perfect. I have my faults. I made mistakes. I’m a killer. I don’t deny that. None of us—me, Zest, Rex, Leroy, and all the rest. None of us have ever justified any kill that we made by saying that we are entitled in doing it. None of our hands are clean. Even we admit that much.”

  “I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it,” Nicolosi snapped, lifting his head with what little strength he had. Even frail and half-dead in a hospital bed, arrogance still radiated from him like a poison.

  Rex scoffed, his voice like ice. “How long have you been the head of the hunters? Even before this year’s reign of terror, how many people have died on your orders? Gifted and Normals alike. You killed your own men for disobedience. Gene Alescio was a bastard, but even he didn’t deserve to die by your hand. The number of deaths that could be attributed to you are probably in the thousands by now.”

  “You didn’t even spare children,” Hayder spat. “Say what you want about the underground, but at least we don’t target kids. But you did. And the ESA? The Council? Your own allies. You slaughtered them when they outlived their usefulness.”

  Sera’s expression twisted. “I bet every single one of your so-called supporters in the Council and ESA regretted ever backing you the moment your men slit their throats.”

  Sera didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to. Her point to this entire conversation could be made without having to scream it in Nicolosi’s face.

  “You’re not Eldario’s saviour. You’re just insane,” Rex spat. “Blue Pandora. Red Pandora. You turned your soldiers into monsters. You betrayed those who believed in you the second they stopped serving your ambition. You didn’t want to save this country. You wanted power. That’s why you took out the Council. The ESA. So no one could stand in your way.” He sneered. “Too bad you didn’t account for us.”

  Silence fell amongst them for several moments, with the only sounds that could be heard being that of the steady beeping of the machines in the room, and even that of the battles still going on in the distance in Blackpool.

  “If you’d just come out and tell the truth, and actually admitted it, I think I might have more respect for you,” Sera said at last, breaking the silence. “Because you got this close—” She held her index finger and thumb less than an inch apart from each other for emphasis, “This close to changing everything. To wiping us all out. You said you wanted to save Eldario. But that’s not the truth, is it? You just wanted power. You wanted dominion. And in the end, you became Eldario’s doom.”

  Nicolosi snarled. “What’s your point?”

  “I don’t know what happened in your damn past for you to do this, but whatever it is, nothing is a good enough reason to inflict your issues on the entire nation,” Sera said coldly. “There is always someone that had suffered worse. That’s my damn point. Everyone suffers. That’s life. Life is never fair. But not everyone turns it into a reason to burn the world down. It’s high time you learned that.”

  “I did learn that,” Nicolosi hissed bitterly. “That’s why I became what I am.”

  Zest let out a long exhale, one hand falling onto the black blade in the holster by his side, and wrapping his fingers around the hilt. “Then it’s a good thing that it’s over, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  Before anyone could even blink, Zest had already started moving.

  In an instant, he was on the bed, his black blade buried deep in Nicolosi’s chest. The dying man’s eyes widened in shock and pain as Zest’s free hand ripped the IV line free from his wrist, severing the flow of Blue Pandora—no, Red Pandora.

  The machines beside the bed shrieked and blared.

  Zest’s red eyes were cold even as he met with Nicolosi’s own shocked eyes, even as the younger twisted the blade deeper and further through until the guard touched the chest.

  Blood bubbled at Nicolosi’s lips as he gasped, choking, his fingers clawing weakly at the blade embedded in his body.

  Blood is starting to pool around his body, soaking through his clothes, spreading across the once pristine white sheets of the bed, and dripping steadily onto the cold floor below.

  The air was heavy with iron and finality.

  “I’ve waited for this moment for years,” Zest said, as a cold smile spread across his lips. “I swore the day when I turned on the hunters that I’d be the one to end you. I’m probably going to go to Hell for everything after I’m dead anyway. And that’s fine. I’ll atone for my sins after that.” His eyes narrowed. “This is for everyone in Blade, you bastard! And for all those who suffered and died because of you!”

  Neither he nor Nicolosi noticed the others step closer—Sera, Lleucu, Leroy, Jamie, Rex, Raul, Larissa, and Hayder, forming a silent circle around the bed. Their eyes were fixed on the dying man as he gurgled and choked, trying in vain to pry Zest’s blade from his chest. The weapon had gone clean through his body, and through the bed beneath.

  Sera’s voice broke the silence. “I still don’t understand the whole point of this. The hatred. The obsession with wiping out the Gifted, or anyone you deemed ‘different’,” she whispered as Nicolosi continued to struggle futilely, his life slipping away. “You see, I came to terms with what I am and what I did in order to survive a long time ago. But what I can never accept is that you dragged an entire nation into your personal crusade.”

  “Eldario is finished now,” Larissa said, shaking her head. “We’re already making preparations to leave this country after this war. Whatever people that would remain in this country… They won’t last long after this, anyway. I can already predict what is going to happen after the hunters are gone, and the Gifted—the survivors, have left Eldario. Without someone to hate, to blame, they’ll turn onto each other. I’ll be surprised if anyone is still alive by the time spring comes. Spring won’t bring rebirth this time. Only ash.”

  “Everything that you’ve done…” Raul murmured, shaking his head. “Was it worth it in the end?”

  Nicolosi choked on his own blood, coughing out more of the crimson liquid. It flowed from his chest, spilling onto the sheets, and the ground beneath him. His breathing was ragged. “I…refuse to accept this…” He rasped, his voice barely audible above the shrieking machines. “I won’t…lose… Not to you… Not to abominations… Not to rats from the underground… Not to the ESA… Or the Council…”

  His eyes flickered wildly between them. His skin had gone pale as parchment, but his voice still clung to arrogance, even at the edge of death. “I’m not the street rat I once was. They’ll remember me. People will look at me and fear me! I swore it… Long ago. Everything I did… I have no regrets… I’ll…wait…in the…afterlife…”

  Then his body gave a shudder, and his head sagged back into the pillow.

  For several long seconds that felt like hours, nine pairs of eyes watched as the light slowly went out of Nicolosi’s eyes, until at last, they slid shut. His chest no longer rose. The machine beside him shrieked once more, and then flattened to a single, unbroken tone.

  It was finally over.

  Zest slowly pulled his black blade out of Nicolosi’s chest, the motion smooth and deliberate, before swinging his blade to clear the blood from it with practiced ease, before he then slid it back into its sheathe.

  “…It’s over.” Sera was the first one to break the silence. For a moment, she couldn’t even recognise her own voice.

  Larissa nodded slowly. “It’s over,” she echoed.

  Zest let out a breath, stepping back from the bed. He looked at each of them in turn, his expression unreadable. Then, he pressed one finger to the comms in his ear.

  “Mission accomplished.”