The morning sun bled through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Sparks's eyes fluttered, then snapped open. She gasped, her hands immediately flying up to protect her face as she scrambled back against the headboard, her breath coming in ragged bursts of terror.

"It's okay. You're safe," Ethan said the leader, his voice low and steady.

She froze, her gaze locking onto him. It took a long moment for the fog of pain to clear, for her to realize she wasn't in the damp isolation cell anymore. "Ethan...?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "They... they tortured me. They wanted me to sign a confession. They wanted me to testify that the terrorist attack on Congressman Vance was your doing—that you were the one who brought those explosives to the wooden cabin."

Ethan felt a sharp pang of guilt and rage. "Why were they so cruel to you? I was just a nobody back then. Why go to such lengths just for a statement?" Ethan asked the young man.

Sparks looked down at her hands, which were now miraculously healed, though the memory of the pain remained. "I don't know why they were so obsessed with breaking me, but I never betrayed you. I never gave them a single word about the attack. I kept telling them the truth—that Vance was a psychopathic kidnapper and those explosives belonged to him, not you," she said the woman.

Ethan reached out, his hand hovering near hers before he pulled back to give her space. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. The Congressman is dead. Everything is going to be alright now," Ethan said the leader.

She let out a long, shuddering breath, the weight of months of fear finally beginning to lift. Ethan gestured to the bags of clothes on the bed. "I'll leave these here for you. You're safe now. I have to go handle some business, but you should rest."

As he stood up to leave, he felt a small, cold hand grab his wrist. Her eyes were wide, filled with a sudden, sharp fear. "Don't... don't leave me alone. If they find out I'm gone, they'll come for me again."

"They can't get to you here," Ethan said the leader, placing his hand over hers to steady her. "This entire building is mine. Every guard, every sensor, and every wall belongs to me. You're protected. There's no need to ever go back to the police force, Sparks. Stay here. With me, you'll never lack for anything again."

She looked at him, a flicker of her old pride returning to her eyes. "I've never wanted to depend on anyone, Ethan. I've spent my whole life being the one people rely on. I don't know how to just... be a bird in a cage," she said the woman.

Ethan smiled, a genuine, soft expression that rarely touched his face. "Then don't be a cage bird. Why not work for me? I'm always short a few pairs of hands specialized in combat and investigation. If you feel up to it, you can go downstairs and tell Falcon 1 you're ready to help. Or," he leaned in slightly, "you can stay here and let me protect you. The choice is yours."

Sparks wiped a stray tear from her cheek and sat up straighter, a defiant smirk playing on her lips. "I'm not the type to stay behind, Ethan. Who knows? In the end, it might be me who has to protect you," she said the woman.

Ethan chuckled, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. "I'm counting on it."

He gave her a final, reassuring nod before turning and stepping out of the room. As he walked down the hallway, his expression shifted from the warmth he showed Sparks back to the cold, calculating mask of the Royal leader. He descended to the lobby, where Falcon 1 was waiting, monitoring several screens.

"She is someone very important and completely trustworthy. Give her whatever she asks for, no questions asked," Ethan said the leader.

"It will be a pleasure, sir. She will be treated with the highest priority," said Falcon 1. He then straightened his uniform and lowered his voice. "Sir, Jason sent a message once he heard you had arrived. He is currently leading a strike team through the primary Olympus hubs."

Ethan paused, his interest piqued. "What is the situation? How many have been neutralized?" Ethan asked the young man.

"That is the problem, sir. Jason reports that the centers are completely empty. We have recovered tons of materials—advanced weaponry, massive amounts of cash, vehicles, and raw resources—but there isn't a single soul left to capture. It's as if they were never there. There are only two complexes left, but surveillance shows no movement at all. It is as if everyone disappeared of a sudden," said Falcon 1.

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he processed the information. A clean sweep of personnel suggested a level of coordination that even he hadn't fully anticipated. "I understand. Tell Jason to proceed with caution. If they aren't there, they are somewhere else, waiting. Inform me the moment something happens; I want to be the reinforcement that annhilates them once and for all," Ethan said the leader.

"Understood, sir," said Falcon 1.

Ethan turned and walked toward the main entrance. Outside, the armored SUV was idling, its black paint reflecting the morning light. Falcon 20 stepped forward with a sharp, disciplined movement, opening the rear door.

Before stepping inside, Ethan looked at his guard. "Take us to Lexington. There are still pending matters to settle there," Ethan said the young man.

"Right away, boss," said Falcon 20.

The door closed with a heavy thud, and the vehicle accelerated, leaving the headquarters behind. Ethan stared out the window, his mind already calculating the next move. Olympus might be playing a disappearing act, but in Lexington, the prisoners had nowhere to run.

Just as the city buildings began to thin out, Ethan's private phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the unknown number before answering.

"Good morning, young Ethan Blake," said the voice on the other end. It was a greasy, disgusting sound, like a man speaking through a mouthful of oil. "I am Sylas Scavenger. I believe you've already had the pleasure of meeting my son, Marcus."

Ethan's grip on the phone tightened, his eyes turning into cold slits as he listened to the patriarch of the family that owned the nation's prisons.

"I heard you left him in quite a... shocking state. We really must have a talk about your lack of manners," said Sylas Scavenger.

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