Ethan reached down and carefully unfastened the last of the restraints. He slid one arm behind Sparks's back and the other under her knees, lifting her with a gentleness that stood in stark contrast to the violence that had just filled the room. Her head slumped against his chest, her breathing still dangerously shallow.
He turned toward the door, walking past the smoking, unconscious body of Marcus Scavenger without a second glance.
"Falcon 20, I'll be waiting for you in the vehicle," Ethan said the leader.
Falcon 20 didn't need further instructions. A chilling, wide smile spread across his face as he looked at the surviving guards and the Warden cowering in the corner. "Understood, boss. I'll be out in five minutes," said Falcon 20.
As Ethan walked down the hallway, the sounds of a one-sided massacre began to echo behind him—the wet thud of blades and the desperate pleas for mercy that went unanswered. Ethan didn't stop. He pushed through the heavy gates, the crisp night air hitting his face as he reached the armored SUV.
He settled into the back seat, cradling Sparks. A few minutes later, Falcon 20 climbed into the driver's seat, his breathing steady, though the faint scent of copper followed him.
"Take us back to the headquarters," Ethan said the leader.
Falcon 20 glanced at the rear-view mirror, looking at the bruised and broken woman in Ethan's arms. "Boss, with all due respect, she looks like she's on death's door. We should head to the hospital instead," said Falcon 20.
Ethan didn't respond with words. He simply looked up, his eyes flashing with a cold, violet light that made the temperature in the car seem to drop. It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command that brooked no argument.
"Understood. Heading to HQ now," said Falcon 20, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator.
The city lights blurred past as they sped through the streets. When they arrived at the Royal building, the atmosphere was tense. Jason was away, but Falcon 1 was there, standing guard at the entrance. He stepped forward as Ethan exited the car with the girl.
"Boss, who is she? She needs a doctor immediately. I'll call our private clinic," said Falcon 1.
"No. Just give us a room. Now," Ethan said the young man.
Falcon 1 didn't ask again. He led them through the sleek corridors to a high-security residential suite. Ethan walked to the center of the room and placed her softly onto the large, plush bed, adjusting the pillows to support her battered frame.
"Bring new clothes for her. Something soft. And then, leave us alone," Ethan said the leader.
"Right away, sir," said Falcon 1.
As the door clicked shut, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed. The room was silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning and Sparks's labored breaths. He looked at her face—the face of the officer who had promised him justice and ended up in a cage for it. He placed a hand over her forehead, and a faint, warm glow began to emanate from his palm as he started to circulate his Qi into her system.
Her body was on the verge of total collapse. There were more wounds than he had initially seen—deep lacerations, muscle tears, and even internal burns that indicated she had been subjected to brutal electrical torture.
"Why were those sons of bitches so cruel to you...?" Ethan murmured the young man, his voice trembling with a mix of pity and rage.
He looked down at his hands, knowing that simple medical science wouldn't be enough to fix the trauma she had endured. He needed something more.
"Crul, is the shop still functioning the same way? Is everything available?" Ethan asked the leader, speaking into the empty air of the room.
The holographic interface of his system flickered to life in his mind's eye. "The core architecture remains unchanged, Host. All inventory is accessible and ready for deployment," said Crul.
"Give me a High-Grade Healing Potion," Ethan said the young man.
In a shimmer of light, a small glass bottle filled with a swirling, vibrant red liquid materialized in the air before him. Ethan caught it and popped the cork. He gently tilted her head back, carefully forcing the elixir into her mouth. He watched her throat move as she instinctively swallowed the magical concocción.
The effect was almost instantaneous. A soft, crimson aura began to envelop her body. Ethan watched in silence as the deep purple bruises on her neck began to fade, and the jagged cuts on her arms knitted themselves back together as if by invisible threads. The pained, shallow gasps she had been taking smoothed out into a deep, restorative sleep.
"It's working," Ethan said the leader.
He sat back, watching the color slowly return to her cheeks.
.A soft knock at the door broke the silence. Falcon 1 entered quietly, carrying several shopping bags filled with high-quality garments. He moved with a professional stillness, placing the bags on a nearby chair.
"I have the clothes, boss. I bought them slightly larger than standard; I wasn't entirely sure of her size and figured comfort was the priority," said Falcon 1.
Ethan looked at the bags and then back at the man who had been holding down the fort. "I appreciate it. It was a good call," Ethan said the leader.
"Do you need anything else, sir? A medical team is still on standby in the lobby if you change your mind," said Falcon 1.
"No. Just make sure no one disturbs us. I'll handle things from here," Ethan said the young man.
Falcon 1 nodded once and retreated, the heavy door clicking shut behind him. Ethan stood up and took the clothes out of the bags—soft silks and high-thread-count cottons—and laid them neatly at the foot of the bed.
He didn't know how long it would take for the potion to fully mend the damage to her spirit, even if her body was already looking whole again. The trauma of the last few months wasn't something a red liquid could erase instantly. He pulled a chair close to the bedside and sat down, his gaze fixed on her face.
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