Seraph stood outside the medical bay, watching through the reinforced glass as Doc Santos worked on Draven. His chest rose and fell in shallow movements. Machines beeped steadily, tracking a heartbeat that shouldn't exist.

"Captain."

Rook walked to her with his tablet.

"What is it?" Seraph asked.

"Sterling is broadcasting." He hesitated. "It's about Valerius."

The floor felt like it was moving under her feet. She had known this was coming. From the moment they escaped the Iso-Cube, she knew their spy's time was limited. Sterling wasn't the forgiving type.

"Show me." Seraph said.

They moved to a room where a crowd had already gathered. Someone turned off the lights. The screens turned on.

Sterling stood in a public square she recognized. The old Imperial Plaza, the one with the fountain that didn't work anymore.

"Citizens of the Syndicate." His voice carried that confidence of someone who had never doubted himself in his life. "Today, we are dealing with a problem that has grown slowly and painfully in our ranks."

The camera pulled back.

Commander Valerius knelt in the center of the plaza, with his hands bound behind his back. Blood dripped from a cut under his eye. He looked smaller than she remembered. It's interesting how fear changes people, reducing them to something weak and fragile.

Seraph's hands turned into fists.

"This man believed he could undermine our work." Sterling paced around Valerius. "He thought he could play both sides. Feed information to terrorists who would drag us back into the dark ages of magical superstition and petty nationalism."

Someone in the room swore under their breath.

"He was wrong."

A Beta-Class Weaver stepped into frame. The thing moved wrong.

Valerius lifted his head. His eyes found the camera, and through it, seemed to find her. She had seen that look before. On soldiers who knew they weren't coming home.

He looked terrified. She couldn't blame him.

"Let this serve as a lesson." Sterling continued. "The old world had loyalty to nations, to flags, to abstract ideas that divided humanity. The new world has only one loyalty. Loyalty to progress. To evolution. To me."

He nodded once.

The Weaver moved.

One second it stood still. The next, its hand was through Valerius's chest.

Someone gasped behind her. Seraph forced herself to keep watching. She owed him that much. She owed him the witnessing.

Valerius's mouth opened. Maybe to scream. But only blood came out, spilling down his chin.

The Weaver pulled its hand back. Valerius instantly fell to the ground.

Sterling didn't even glance at the body. "The Syndicate does not tolerate traitors. Remember that as we build a better future. Together."

The broadcast cut out.

The room was so quiet it felt uncomfortable. Then someone suddenly threw a chair, and it hit the wall with a loud crack that made everyone jump.

"He killed him." The fighter who had thrown it stood there, breathing hard with his fists tight. "On camera. For everyone to see. Like it was nothing."

"It was a message," someone else said quietly.

"Yeah? Well I got his message loud and clear. We are all dead if we keep fighting."

"No."

The voice came from the corner. Dr. Thorne was wrapped in a blanket, still shaking from the stasis field.

"That's not the message at all."

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Sterling thinks he won." Thorne stood on his shaky legs. "He thinks killing one man will scare everyone else into submission. But he's wrong. I know him. I worked with him for years. He's brilliant, but he doesn't understand people. He never has."

"How do you know?" Kira asked.

"Because fear can quickly turn into anger," Thorne said, his voice growing stronger with every word.. "He just showed the whole world what happens to humans under his rule. We are disposable. Replaceable. He executed a decorated military commander with one of his monsters, live, for everyone to see."

Seraph suddenly understood everything. "He turned Valerius into a hero who died for his cause."

"Exactly." Thorne nodded. "The people sitting on the fence? The ones who thought maybe Sterling's vision wasn't so bad? He just pushed them into our camp."

The room went quiet again.

"He's scared," Seraph said. "The defection made him nervous. He wouldn't have made such a public example unless he was worried about more people turning."

"So what do we do?" Rook asked.

Seraph looked around the room. At faces that had followed her into hell and back. At Thorne, who had survived the impossible. At the medical bay where Draven was fighting for his life.

"We make him more scared." She brought out a map on the main screen. "Rook, get me every contact we have in the military. Every sympathizer, every fence-sitter, every person who just watched that broadcast and realized Sterling isn't their savior. I want names."

"On it."

"The rest of you, spread word about what happened at the Iso-Cube. Make sure everyone knows we broke the unbreakable prison. Make sure they know we saved Thorne from Sterling's mind-draining machine. Make sure they understand what Sterling really does to the people he captures."

The room suddenly became busy and active. Plans were made. Assignments got handed out.

Thorne walked to Seraph as the crowd dispersed. "Thank you. For coming for me."

"Thank Draven." Seraph glanced toward the medical bay. "He's the one who made it possible."

"Will he live?"

She didn't answer right away. "I don't know."

Thorne was quiet for a moment. Then, "If he does, tell him I owe him everything. And if he doesn't..." His jaw tightened. "Make sure Sterling pays for it."

"That was always the plan."

Hours passed by slowly.

Doc Santos came out from the medical bay around midnight, wiping blood off her hands. Her face was unreadable in that way doctors had when they were deciding how to deliver news.

Seraph stood. "Well?"

"He will live." Santos said. "I don't know how, but he will live. Whatever power he used, it should have killed him instantly. But it's like his will held him together past the point where his body should have quit."

Seraph felt a strong wave of relief that she had to hold onto the chair. "Can I see him?"

"He's unconscious. He won't wake for days, maybe weeks. But yes. You can see him."

Draven looked small in the medical bed. Strange how someone who always seemed strong could look so weak. Machines beeped around him, tracking functions his body had forgotten how to manage on its own.

Seraph sat down carefully, not wanting to move any equipment attached to him. "You did it, you stubborn bastard. You actually did it."

He didn't respond. She hadn't expected him to.

"Sterling made a mistake today." She continued talking. "He showed everyone who he really is. And we are going to make him regret it."

Outside, in the common room, someone turned the screens back on. News feeds from across the occupied territories turned on.

Sterling thought he had won by making an example of one man.

But you don't kill hope by killing a person. You just give it a face. A name. A reason to fight harder.

Commander Valerius was dead. But his death would light fires across the nation.

And Sterling, for all his brilliance, had just handed them the spark.

Seraph stood, taking one last look at Draven. "Rest up. We are going to need you for what comes next."

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