It had been two hours since Nova and Alaric returned to Quarath, bringing Colin and Ren with them.

Before leaving Altura, Nova and Jack had caught up. Words were sharp, mostly curses, but beneath it all lay a mutual understanding. Neither held a grudge—they just weren't the type to admit it out loud.

Ren had resisted at first, putting up a small fight, but it hadn't taken long for him to realize the futility of it. Nova had simply clamped a hand around his neck and hauled both him and Colin back to base like they were little more than grocery bags.

Since then, Nova had secluded himself in the smithy. In those hours, he'd forged new restraint cuffs and bought walls and doors as strong as plated armor for the underground rooms.

Emerging from the forge, he cast a glance to his right. There lay Ren and Colin, unconscious and unmoving. Without ceremony, he cuffed them both, slinging their limp bodies up with ease then walked over to the complex's entrance and entered it.

As he made his way toward the basement, several captains passed by. Their eyes were filled with questions at the sight of their boss carrying two grown men in his arms, but none dared speak as Nova descended the stairs, prisoners in tow.

The heavy sound of footsteps descending the stairs jolted Micah from his thoughts. He sprang to his feet and screamed at the top of his lungs, "LET ME OUT! YOU'LL REGRET THIS! LET ME-"

"Shut up," Nova said flatly, barely glancing in the direction of his room.

Without hesitation, he opened the two empty rooms flanking Micah's. Then, as if tossing out trash, he hurled Ren and Colin inside one each. Their bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds.

Micah pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear. The momentary chaos was followed only by the sharp clank of metal—cuffs, maybe? He wasn't sure. And he was too afraid to ask. Slowly, he slid down the door, back against the cold metal, his breathing shaky. When will I be saved?

Meanwhile, Nova worked methodically, installing the reinforced walls and doors he'd purchased from the Store. The process was efficient—only the door required a bit of effort. The new walls were simply placed in front of the old ones, shrinking the space inside. But comfort wasn't really his concern. These rooms weren't rooms meant for hospitality.

With the other two rooms secured, Nova turned his attention to Micah's. He gave the door a casual kick—just enough force to send it flying off its hinges. It crashed into Micah, who had been sitting behind it, launching him backward with a startled cry that quickly turned into a pained groan as his body slammed into the far wall, leaving a dent in the surface.

'These walls are no better than paper,' Nova mused, unimpressed. He pulled a reinforced door from his Inventory and began installing it without a second glance.

Across the room, Micah coughed and staggered to his feet, one arm clutching his ribs. As soon as he caught sight of Nova, he erupted again.

"WHAT DID I DO TO YOU? ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO KEEP ME HERE UNTIL I DIE? D—"

Once done Nova approached Micah with a faint, almost amused smile. Without a word, he knelt and locked cuffs around Micah's ankles this action startled him so much that he stopped shouting.

"I told you to shut up," he said calmly. "No one's listening. What's the point in shouting?"

If Micah had felt trapped before, now he was helpless. The restraints robbed him of any chance to walk.

Micah's voice barely rose above a whisper as his head rested against the cold floor. "I... I understand now. Please—free my legs. Please…"

Before Nova could answer, a low groan echoed from the adjacent room—it was Ren's. Moments later, slurred muttering followed.

"Where... am I?"

The moment Micah heard the voice, his eyes went wide. Panic flickered across his face. He nearly shouted in alarm but stopped himself, remembering who was in front of him. Knowing who, most likely, was next door the look he gave Nova shifted. Now, his eyes were filled with fear.

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Nova noticed the shift immediately. His eyes, still fixed on Micah, narrowed with interest. 'Didn't expect him to wake up this soon... but this works too,' he thought. The corners of his mouth curled into a slow, knowing smile.

"Do you recognize that voice?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"N-N-No," Micah stammered, shaking his head violently. "No. I don't."

He knew what would come next if he admitted the truth—questions. And if he failed to answer them… He glanced at Nova, heart pounding. Whatever the alternative was, it was a fate he didn't dare imagine.

"I think you do," Nova said calmly, his voice laced with amusement. "Let's test that out."

He reached down and seized Micah's arm. The terrified man flinched, eyes wide and pleading, but Nova stood without pause, dragging him effortlessly from the room. Micah scrambled, twisted, and clawed at the floor, using every ounce of strength to delay the inevitable—but it made no difference.

Ren heard the creak of the door of his room opening. He lifted his head groggily, instincts sharpening. When the door finally swung wide, he expected Nova. What he didn't expect—what sent a jolt through him—was the sight of Micah being dragged in behind him like a broken doll.

"Micah?" Ren muttered, almost involuntarily.

The moment their eyes met and saw the fear in his colleague's eyes, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Nova let out a quiet chuckle, eyes flicking between the two of them. "So it seems," he said, "that the organization you spoke of…" He cast a pointed glance at Micah, who now trembled like a leaf caught in a storm. "...is the same one this guy belongs to."

He paused, taking a slow step forward, his tone casual.

"Across two cities, I've managed to stumble on three people from a supposedly secretive group. So tell me..." His gaze locked onto Ren's. "Am I just lucky—or are you all incredibly unlucky?"

Shaking his head Nova muttered "I can't wait for your group to come and buy you out. You guys must be rich."

Still gripping Micah by the arm, he turned and with a laugh stepped out of Ren's room, slamming the door shut behind him. He tapped it once—an odd, deliberate gesture—then moved to the room Micah had been dragged from.

Without ceremony, he hurled Micah back inside. The door snapped shut with a sharp bang. Again, Nova tapped it once.

Then he crossed over to Colin's room and tapped it once too.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps growing fainter with each step until silence returned to the basement—an oppressive, heavy stillness that seemed to press in on the walls.

From inside his cell, Micah whispered to no one, "We're doomed."

Several minutes passed.

Then, the sound of boots on stone echoed down the stairs. With flowing red hair Jasmine descended into the basement, flanked by two captains. Each of them approached one of the newly sealed doors—now marked with faintly glowing circles etched into the surface.

The strange symbols caught their eyes, curiosity flickering across their faces. But none of them paused. Without hesitation, they stepped inside, each one closing the door behind them with a soft click.

////////////

A day had passed. The abandoned building in Altura stood silent, its shadows long and undisturbed.

"They're late with the report," Hannah muttered, her voice calm but edged with irritation as she walked through the dim corridors. "Are they still wasting time here?"

Protocol was simple: after completing a job, anyone was supposed to report directly to her. It didn't matter if they had the same rank or not. Timely updates meant informed decisions. But this time, neither Colin nor Ren had contacted her. And now a full day had passed.

Finishing her sweep of the ground floor, she ascended to the first. The moment she stepped onto the landing, her gaze swept across the devastation: scorch marks charred the walls, rubble littered the floor, and the air still carried the faint acrid scent of burned stone.

She gave a slight nod, murmuring, "So they did fight."

As she walked deeper into the wreckage, more evidence surfaced—smears of blood across the floor, scattered debris, and finally... a severed hand lying amid the rubble.

Hannah knelt beside it, examining the limb with clinical precision before shaking her head.

"Not Ren's. Not Colin's."

She rose, following the faint trail of blood that led toward the far wall. There, pooled beneath cracked stone, was a dark, congealed stain.

She stared at it, eyes narrowing.

Something went very wrong here.

"Did they only manage to kill one?" Hannah muttered, eyes scanning the blood-streaked floor. "But according to Sophia, there should've been at least seven… What the hell happened here?"

Finally lifting her head she froze.

Scrawled across the wall in large, bold letters was a message.

ORGANIZATION! IF YOU WANT THESE TWO BACK COME TO QUARATH.

Hannah's breath caught in her throat. Her usual composure cracked as she read the message once… then again.

Minutes passed before she inhaled deeply, grounding herself. Her voice was quieter now, more uncertain.

"Did… did Sophia betray us?"

The suspicion flared for a moment, but she quickly pushed it aside.

"I need to report this," she said, more firmly this time.

Reading the full message one last time, she turned and quickly left the building.

////////

At that very moment, in another corner of the Earth, a figure stepped silently out of a shimmering portal. Her footsteps were light, barely stirring the dust beneath her. A sword rested at her waist, its hilt gleaming faintly, and her long black hair—streaked with hints of deep blue—whipped across her face in the wind, veiling one eye.

She stood alone, surrounded by a vast, barren expanse with nothing but a chain of jagged mountains encircling the horizon.

As the portal faded behind her, she whispered to herself "I'm finally back."

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