“I’ve spent enough time in the past, love. The dead need no tears. They don’t rest easier for our vengeance, or our guilt. They’d want us to live. And life’s about the now and the future, eh?” - Pierce Brown (Dark Age)

  * * * *

  The war room within Ashenridge was never meant to carry this much weight.

  A generator hummed low beneath the floor, and in a corner of the room stood a foldable metal table with a portable computer resting atop it. Next to it, a palm-sized encryption and signal-blocking device pulsed with a soft amber glow.

  Three figures stood before the display: Sera, Zest, and Rex.

  The flicker of holographic screens illuminated their faces with pale light, throwing harsh blue shadows across the steel walls behind them. On the holograms appeared the last pockets of resistance left in Eldario—Leroy and the surviving Blade members seated in the back office of the Pandemonium Bar in Zalfari, their expressions hard but worn; and Larissa, the Premier of the Abyss, seated against a midnight blue backdrop, her eyes sharp despite the fatigue evident in the lines around them.

  Everyone looked tired.

  War had not yet knocked fully at their doors, but the sound of it—the scream of hysteria, the march of boots, and the cold click of hunter weapons, was drawing ever closer.

  Leroy exhaled slowly. His red shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his chestnut eyes bore the look of a man who’d been doing too many calculations and not enough sleeping.

  “Things aren’t looking too good on our end,” he began, his voice hoarse but steady. “We’ve been seeing an increase in attempted attacks. Right now, we’re basically under siege. Makeshift barricades have been holding, but every day, they press harder. We can hold out for a few months—Zalfari’s pretty self-sustaining, thanks to the tunnels and the systems we inherited from the old networks. But it won’t last forever.”

  Alisa was seated beside him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes were unwavering, though her voice carried the burden of every plan she had drafted and every soul she’d quietly marked for evacuation.

  “We’ve already begun the process of moving some of the civilians,” she said, her voice calm but clipped. “Vendors, brokers, and families. There’s a service route underground that leads from Zalfari to the Abyss—old, narrow, and winding. It’ll take hours to travel by foot, but it’s the only option we have for now. Even that’s a gamble. At this point, it’s not a matter of ‘if’ the hunters break through. It’s when.”

  There was a heavy silence that followed, broken only by the low crackle of static from one of the open transmission nodes.

  Larissa spoke next, the flickering candlelight from the Abyss casting shadows across her face. “The Abyss remains hidden. For now. The hunters haven’t located our coordinates, but I’d be a fool to believe that will last. If what happened with Ebis taught us anything, it’s that our enemy doesn’t need to kick down the front door. They just need one of us to leave it open.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, her elbows resting on a worn oak desk. “We did a full sweep after Ebis, flushed out the traitors, and cleaned house. But there’s always the chance we missed someone. The truth is, the hunters have eyes everywhere, and we have to assume we’re always being watched. We’re stretched thin. Timo being back helps. He’s filled in some gaps as an unofficial Enforcer, but we’re still bleeding from every angle.”

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  Zest’s fingers tapped against the metal table, slow and rhythmic. His red eyes, usually laced with that trademark smirk, were devoid of humour now. “What’s happening in Eldario isn’t just war,” he said lowly. “It’s extermination. They’re not even hiding it anymore. Gifted aren’t people in their eyes. They’re infections. And their supporters are being treated the same way. As for the public, half of them have swallowed that poison like it’s gospel. The other half? Too scared or too tired to care.”

  Sera’s gaze remained locked on the holograms. Her eyes betrayed nothing at first. But when she spoke, the quiet fury beneath her calm tone was palpable. “At this point, we can’t rule out full evacuation,” she said. “Of Eldario. Entirely.”

  That made even Jamie, silent until now, lift his eyes.

  Sera continued. “Even if Nicolosi dies, this doesn’t stop. The hysteria won’t vanish with his corpse. The hatred was always there—he just lit the match. It’s already been there long before he started on his campaign. The fire was waiting, already fed by decades of resentment, fear, and ignorance. We’re already seeing the beginning of the end.”

  Larissa nodded slowly. “My overseas contacts confirm the same. Our neighbours are watching and waiting. They’ve all opted for a wait and see scenario. They won’t want to get involved with what they deem as a domestic affair. But they will also want to keep an eye on the situation in case it spills over to them. They don’t have the same prejudice towards Gifted as Eldario, not officially, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have people who think like Nicolosi. Still, for now, the hunters don’t seem to have foreign allies. But that’s little comfort.”

  “Funny,” Zest muttered bitterly. “If Nicolosi hates the Gifted, you’d need a new word entirely for what he feels about foreigners.” The others looked at him as he leaned forward, his hands on the table, his expression dark. “He’s old school. Thinks outsiders ‘taint’ Eldario blood. That’s why most of the hunters only marry within their own circles. Civilian marriages are already a sin to them. A Gifted one? Unforgivable. A foreigner? That’s grounds for a purge. The fact that Gene Alescio’s marriage went unnoticed for so long was a miracle. His wife wasn’t just a civilian. She wasn’t Eldarian.”

  Alisa let out a low, bitter sigh. “So Nicolosi’s not just a dictator. He’s running a damn cult.”

  “A blood cult,” Jamie said, almost absently, brushing a hand along the tattoo at the side of his neck. “He controls them completely. Their training. Their beliefs. Even their love lives. They’re not soldiers anymore. They’re zealots.”

  “Evacuation plans are in place on our end,” Larissa interjected, her tone sharpening. “We don’t like the idea, but we’ve planned for it since the entire madness begun. The Abyss can survive anywhere, but the longer we stay here, the higher the cost. Still, we can’t run just yet. Not until we settle the score with Nicolosi and his ilk. We at least owe it to our country to clean up this entire mess.”

  Sera nodded. “I have Raul, Elijah, and Louis working on the files my aunt sent me before she died. If she left anything behind, it’ll be critical intel. Maybe even something about Nicolosi’s final plan.”

  “She would’ve hidden it well,” Zest added. “Knowing her, it’s probably locked behind layers even Jamie couldn’t get through.”

  Jamie offered a one-shoulder shrug, unfazed by the jab. “It’s true. I got what I could from Blackpool, but there were systems even I didn’t dare touch. Whatever Nicolosi’s cooking, it’s going to be massive. And if Ethan’s reports are to be believed, he’s not just cruel anymore. He’s unhinged. Blue Pandora’s messing with his mind.”

  Lleucu spoke up, his voice quiet, his grey eyes thoughtful. “That could work against him. A man that far gone can make mistakes.”

  “Or take everyone with him in the process,” Wes muttered from his seat, adjusting one of his crutches.

  The beep came then, subtle but insistent. A soft chime that marked their hour limit on the secure line.

  They all looked at each other. None of them wanted to say goodbye. None of them wanted to cut this thread—the fragile cord connecting the last fragments of resistance in a country tearing itself apart.

  “We’ll reconvene next week at the usual time,” Sera said. “If anything serious happens before then…”

  “We know how to reach each other,” Leroy finished.

  “Stay safe, Sera. Zest. Rex,” Larissa said quietly. “Goddess be with you.”

  “You too.”

  And one by one, the holographic screens flickered and died, the faces vanishing into dim blue static before dissolving into air.

  Sera let the silence settle like ash. She bent down, unplugged the encryption device, and turned slowly to face Zest and Rex.

  The air in the war room had grown heavier.

  “It really isn’t looking good,” Zest admitted after a moment. His tone was raw. Not panicked, but exhausted, and stretched thin like a wire about to snap.

  Sera sat down slowly, her back brushing the chair. She looked up at the ceiling, then shut her eyes for a breath.

  “When this madness started, the Abyss had already begun prepping for an evacuation,” she said. “Back then, we still had hope it might not come to that. But now… Now it’s not a precaution. It’s a probability.”

  Rex exhaled long and slow, his caramel hair damp with sweat despite the coolness of the room. “Well,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face, “I’ll start making plans for that. Quietly. I’ll talk to the carpenters—see if we can start on some boathouses. Something big enough to move everyone if it comes to that.” He looked at both of them. “No one’s saying it aloud, but we all know. Eldario’s dying. This country’s on its last legs.”

  And no one, none of them, disagreed.

  Not anymore.