“Revenge gets you nowhere and achieves nothing. It only satisfies the flesh. Let it go.” ― Dele Andersen (The Healing Méndez)

  * * * *

  The mountains loomed in the distance, black silhouettes against a bruised violet sky, where stars blinked like old gods watching a nation slip quietly into collapse.

  The wind whispered low and sharp, brushing against the cracked soil of Eldario’s outer reaches—an isolated part of the country where no cities dared stretch their lights, and where one forgotten relic of infrastructure still pulsed with silent importance: the central water purification plant.

  It should have been unguarded. In any other era, it would have been. But not now. Not with Nicolosi watching Eldario like a hawk circling its dying prey.

  The grass around the outer perimeter of the facility had overgrown, its fences rusted in some places, half-fallen in others. No lights glowed from the windows. No smoke puffed from the exhaust vents. But all five of them knew better than to trust what the surface showed.

  It was too quiet.

  They crouched in the shadows of the plant’s rear vent, the heavy silence a shroud over them. Even insects had gone silent.

  Letha unscrewed the final bolt from the metal grating, her fingers nimble and deft with muscle memory born from darker years—when she still ran with her old gang, and before Aegis had given her a new purpose.

  The panel clanked softly as she dropped it into Leonid’s waiting hands.

  “Is this how you even infiltrated Veridale?” Leonid muttered dryly from behind, his voice low as the mountains.

  Letha smirked, her pale eyes gleaming in the dark. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

  Laura, just ahead of her, choked back a laugh, the sound strangled as she adjusted her footing in the narrow shaft. “He walked into that one. Come on, Big Brother.”

  Leonid rolled his eyes but said nothing as they slipped into the metal corridor one by one. Zest took point, as always, his lean frame vanishing into the tight, angular passage like smoke.

  The inside of the shaft was claustrophobic and stifling. The metal walls were caked with dust and the stink of old steam and grease. Their boots scraped in muffled echoes, barely audible over the distant hum of machines that hadn’t yet died.

  They crawled for several long minutes, each twist and turn in the shaft bringing a new angle of unease.

  Even Leonid, who’d fought too many battles to count, kept glancing over his shoulder like the shadows were alive. This wasn’t like the other missions. This wasn’t an enemy base or some rogue facility. They were in the belly of Eldario itself now.

  Its bones. Its blood. And Nicolosi, mad as he was, had set his sights on poisoning it.

  Zest stopped suddenly. They all froze behind him, breaths held, limbs tensed.

  He glanced over his shoulder, his crimson eyes gleaming like coals in the dark. He held up a hand, then pointed down. Silently, the others crawled forward, one after the other, until all of them were crammed near the slotted vent that opened just below.

  Through the grated metal, they saw it: a large processing chamber, stark and dimly lit by a few flickering overhead lights. Pipes coiled around the walls like intestines, and vast filtration vats churned with deep, echoing gurgles.

  Below them, the plant workers, clad in grimy maintenance suits, moved about under armed supervision.

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  Three hunters stood in sharp contrast to the dust and grease of the room, their uniforms pressed, and rifles gleaming under the industrial lights. From the markings on their uniforms, it is clear these were elite hunters. Their posture was too clean, and too cruel.

  They didn’t belong to the shadows of this forgotten place. But they fit the role of oppressors like a glove.

  One of them barked an order. Another shoved a worker forward with his weapon.

  “I have no idea what you want with the plant,” The oldest worker growled. His face was lined with years of toil and resistance, a man who had seen Eldario before it bled. “But you’re insane.”

  “Shut up and do your work,” The hunter snapped. His voice was cold. But beneath it, a tremor of irritation trembled.

  “You think we don’t know the truth?” The plant manager pressed on, his voice rising despite the danger. “You killed everyone in the ESA. Even the Council. And you blamed it all on the Gifted. Those that still blindly follow you might believe your lies, but those of us with eyes, we know better.”

  The third hunter stepped forward and cracked the butt of his rifle against the man’s face.

  “Boss!” One of the workers cried.

  The plant manager staggered but didn’t fall. Blood trickled from his temple. He looked up through one eye, defiant.

  “If you don’t want to die, you’ll shut up,” The hunter hissed.

  “So much for being the people’s ‘protectors’,” Another worker muttered, this one younger but no less angry. “The blind sheeple in this country might believe your lies, but it won’t last. It never does.”

  The air grew tense. Guns were raised. The three hunters moved in closer, like wolves circling a cornered herd. Their fingers brushed against triggers. Their patience had worn thin.

  “You’ll shut up right now, or else…”

  “Or else what?” One of the other plant workers spat. “Or you’ll kill us all? Like what you’ve been doing for the past year? You think we don’t know that all those people who vanished weren’t just Gifted? No. There were Normals too. Anyone who questioned the hunters all disappeared.”

  “And now you’re all here,” One of the hunters sneered. “Witnesses to your own funeral.”

  That was all Zest needed to hear. He met eyes with Laura and Letha. Then, without a sound, he kicked out the vent grate and dropped.

  He landed like a shadow, a black blur of movement. His dagger was already in hand before his boots hit the ground. The first hunter turned just in time to see red eyes, then nothing else as Zest’s blade sank clean into his throat.

  Laura was next, crashing down with a splash of water from a pipe that burst as she landed. Her hands moved like lightning, ribbons of water swirling out from her palms and smashing into the second hunter, sending him careening into the metal wall with a skull-cracking impact.

  Letha was a blur behind her, arms outstretched as shimmering blue portals opened mid-air. Shadows reached out—arms of the dead, remnants of those who fell to hunters before, dragging the third man screaming into the other side of her rift.

  It was over in less than seven seconds.

  Coleen dropped down after them, brushing off her dress with an annoyed sigh. “You guys work fast. I didn’t even get a chance to back you up.”

  Leonid dropped last, landing beside his sister. His eyes scanned the room, wary, but it was done.

  The plant workers stared in stunned silence, unsure if this was another trap. But the plant manager straightened, blood still on his brow, and stared at them not with fear, but recognition.

  “You people… You’re Aegis, aren’t you?”

  Zest inclined his head slightly. “We are.”

  “I had hoped,” The plant manager murmured, “but… We weren’t sure you were real anymore. The Boss said you’d come.”

  “The Boss?” Laura asked gently.

  “Larissa. The Premier. The one who left us that message through the old broadcast lines. Said help was coming. Said the hunters wouldn’t win.”

  “We’re here now,” Letha said softly. “Are you all right?”

  “They didn’t hurt us. Not much. Mostly, they barked orders, and tried to scare us into helping them modify the systems. They’ve been here ever since martial law was declared. Trying to figure out how this place works.”

  “They mentioned something,” One of the workers spoke up. “Something about putting ‘the country’s hope’ into the water. Said it like it was some grand salvation. But it didn’t sound like anything good.”

  Zest exchanged glances with Laura and Coleen.

  “We were hoping you’d know a way to stop them without destroying the plant,” Laura said carefully.

  Silence.

  One of the workers went pale. “D-Destroy the plant?!”

  “We do,” The plant manager cut in, ignoring the outburst. “There’s a way. The plant runs on a single unique gear—one made almost two hundred years ago. Crafted by the original engineer who built this place. Without it, the tanks lock. The system runs, but no one can tamper with it.”

  He walked to the control panel and pulled open the hatch. Inside, he twisted a small, brass-coloured gear from the heart of the mechanism. The room dimmed instantly. The humming stopped. Warning lights blinked from green to red. The gears froze.

  “Here,” he said, handing it to Zest. “This gear… No one can replicate it. Not anymore. It’s yours now.”

  Zest took it silently, the weight of it unnatural in his palm.

  “Just one gear? Wouldn’t they just need to make another one?” Leonid frowned.

  “Lad, there is no person alive that knows how to make this gear.” The plant manager said. He pointed at the gear in Zest’s palm. “This gear is unique. Even if the hunters had the blueprints of the original design, they won’t be able to produce it. No one can. Craftsmanship like this isn’t being practiced in Eldario any longer. Besides, I don’t believe this plant would need the gear any longer, anyway.”

  “Boss…”

  “Then for now, we lock the doors, too. And get all of you out of the plant. Do you have anywhere safe to go?” Coleen asked.

  The plant manager gave her a weary smile. “I’ve lived through one war already. I know my way around a rifle. I’ll get my people out. Don’t worry about us. You kids have your hands full enough. Albert Nicolosi,” he said slowly, looking to Zest. “Promise me you’ll kill that bastard. Not for me. For everyone. For what’s left of Eldario.”

  Zest’s voice was low. “We will.”

  “Someone like him… It’s not enough to just stop him anymore. Even if you do, Eldario’s too far gone. The real enemy now is the belief—Eldario itself. The poison he’s fed into the people. Killing Nicolosi isn’t going to stop this. Once you kids finish this, you leave Eldario. You survive.”

  “Boss…” A worker said softly.

  “Sera said the same thing,” Laura whispered.

  “You’re going after the hunters after this, aren’t you?” The plant manager asked, and Zest and the others all nodded. “Then you see this through to the end. End this for us.”

  They watched as the workers left, disappearing into the dark. The team remained in silence.

  Only the water continued to flow.

  “Wonder how the group going after Kald is faring,” Letha said at last. “But anyway, we did our part of the job. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Yeah.”

  Zest stared down at the gear in his palm, the final safeguard of Eldario’s most precious resource. The plant was silent now. No tampering could reach it. No poison would be poured into its veins.

  Zest turned, following the others into the dark.

  He doubted anyone would ever return here again.