"Because the world isn't divided into the special and the ordinary. Everyone has the potential to be extraordinary. As long as you have a soul and free will, you can do anything, chose anything." - Magnus Bane (The Mortal Instruments: City of Heavenly Fire)

* * * *

Pain.

That was the first thing Lucas felt as his mind clawed its way out of unconsciousness. Not a dull throb, not a twinge—but a white-hot spear of agony centered in his left arm.

It pulsed in rhythmic bursts, as if his heartbeat had relocated to the wound itself. A groan escaped his lips before he could stop it, dry and ragged, like sandpaper dragged across old stone.

The second thing he registered were voices. Not just voices—arguing voices, heated and filled with the kind of rage that made his already muddled mind buzz like static.

"For the love of the Goddess, why did you bring him with us?!"

"Well, we can't just let him die, can we?"

"Can it. He's ESA!"

"Tatius, we don't kill those that pose no threat, and did nothing to us."

"He got my siblings killed!"

"Tatius, as loathe as I am to defend an ESA agent of all people, you know as well as I do that he did no such thing. It's the hunters."

Hunters…? Lucas's lips moved before he could stop himself, the word barely audible. "…Hunters?"

The room fell dead silent. A shadow shifted near the foot of the bed. He heard someone mutter, "He's awake."

His eyes cracked open.

It was like staring up at the world through gauze. The sunlight filtered through a smeared window nearby, casting pale lines across a rough, uneven ceiling. The scent in the air was unfamiliar—smoke, old wood, faint traces of alcohol, and something more acrid. Gunpowder, maybe. Blood.

Pain shot through Lucas again as he tried to move. He gasped and instinctively clutched his left arm.

Bandages. Thick white gauze tightly wound around the bicep and shoulder, slightly stained with red and still damp. The wound burned like fire beneath them, and memories surged forward…

Maia. Her expression. The gun. The shot. The fall.

He forced himself upright, his vision swimming. That's when he noticed them.

There were nine of them in the room.

Scattered around what looked to be a makeshift second-floor lounge, old couches pushed against the far wall, with weapons propped in corners. Sunlight spilled through the high windows in angled beams, illuminating dust motes drifting lazily through the air.

The walls were worn and scratched, posters peeling in corners, and with the edges of the floorboards frayed. And standing, or sitting, among it all were names and faces that twisted his gut.

Aegis. And Blade.

He recognised Laura first, seated in a worn armchair with her legs crossed and eyes narrowed at him with restrained caution. Beside her, Raul leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, golden eyes shining with unreadable emotion under the shadow of black bangs. Kailey sat close by, her arms folded tight across her stomach, her face pale with tension.

Tatius stood stiffly near the edge of the room, his arms clenched, and his red scarf hanging like a noose around his neck. His jade green eyes were bloodshot. Lucie was sitting beside Kailey, chewing her bottom lip, bracelets jingling faintly with every small twitch of her hand.

Neil stood near the door, silent, unreadable as a statue, arms crossed over his chest. Letha sat slightly apart, pale as bone and expressionless, her icy blue eyes distant as though her soul wasn't entirely present.

And leaning against the window, his silhouette tall and slouched with casual disdain, was Zest. He was picking the tip of a dagger beneath his fingernails, every movement sharp and precise. He didn't even glance Lucas's way. And in a corner, just across from Zest, was Jamie.

Silence reigned for a few thick seconds. It was Raul who finally broke it.

"Well, well. Lucas Alescio. I believe this is the first time we're meeting face to face," Raul said, his tone deceptively calm. "But we sure heard a lot about you. We know about you."

Lucas's dry mouth opened, but Raul continued, gesturing faintly at Kailey.

"You've got her to thank for still being alive. She did some emergency surgery on you. Removed the bullet before it could kill you, or you wouldn't be waking up at all. Not that I agreed with it." Raul's jaw tightened. "None of your ESA pals are here, by the way." Raul shot Kailey a look. "For some reason that escapes my understanding, Kailey grabbed you and took you with us."

Lucas blinked, processing it. "If Zest is with you…" His eyes flickered toward the figure by the window. Zest still hadn't looked at him. "And if you're with Sera… Then you're…"

"If your memory hasn't totally gone yet, then yes, we're Aegis," Raul replied bluntly.

"Should we even be telling him that?" Neil asked, his voice low and wary.

"There's no point hiding anymore," Laura said with a small shrug, her expression resigned. "After what happened last night…" She trailed off slowly, sighing. "Besides, if he runs back to his superiors and tells them he was saved by Aegis, that he was brought back to our base… What do you think will happen to him?"

"He'd be treated as a criminal at best," Letha murmured coldly. "Executed as a traitor at worst. Knowing the hunters, maybe both."

"They wouldn't do that to their own—" Lucas started, but Raul cut him off with a scoff so venomous it made the hairs on Lucas's neck stand.

"Okay, stop right there." Raul's voice turned dark. "You know, Sera never talked much about you. Neither did Zest. But we've got dossiers on you, Lucas Alescio. Just like the ESA keeps tabs on Gifted. We've read them. We know your thoughts on the hunters and the ESA. So, let me ask you, are you walking around Eldario with your eyes shut and ears sealed?"

"That's not—"

"Are you still insisting the ESA and the hunters stand for justice?" Raul snapped, standing now, his body taut with restrained rage. "After what happened last night? After what they did?!"

"To be fair," Lucas muttered, the pain making his voice hoarse, "you were the ones that attacked them."

Everything snapped.

Tatius took a step forward, his fists clenched, and his expression contorted with something between anguish and fury. His entire body trembled. And then…

No one saw Zest move. One moment, he was leaning casually by the window. The next, he was in front of Tatius, one palm planted against the younger man's chest, blocking him.

"Tatius. Cool it." Zest's voice was low and controlled, but sharp as a blade. His eyes flickered towards Neil who was standing by the door. "Neil, take him out of the room. Now."

Neil moved instantly, wordless. He grabbed Tatius by the shoulders, and wrestled him toward the door even as Tatius struggled weakly. His cries were rough and raw, but not just with anger. There was grief in them, real grief.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye—!" Tatius choked, before Neil shoved him out and slammed the door.

Lucas stared, heart hammering. "Zest—" He began.

But Zest turned. And his eyes, those eyes, red as freshly spilled blood, narrowed.

"Do you have a fucking death wish?" Zest said quietly. "You saw hunters and ESA agents blow up Tatius's siblings. One of them his twin. And then you come in here, open your damn mouth, and say that in his earshot?"

"I didn't mean—"

"Are you high on something?" Zest snarled, stalking closer. "Still clinging to your righteous little belief that the hunters are 'all for the people'? After the shit you saw last night? After what Nicolosi's freak show did? Do you drink something special in the ESA to keep that kind of ignorance alive?"

"I never said every agent was a saint," Lucas snapped, finding his voice. "I know some of them are monsters. I'm not blind."

"You sure about that?" Jamie muttered from the corner, his arms crossed, and his voice coated in contempt.

"And I'm sure you're fully aware of the fact that nothing is going to happen to the hunters tonight, or ever," Raul said bitterly. "You know that. No arrests. No trials. No consequences. There never are. Nicolosi alone's racked up a body count that would make warlords blush. But he's still in charge. Still breathing. There are countless cases of hunters and ESA agents alike killing innocents—both Gifted and Normals." Raul's voice cracked.

"Raul, you need to cool down—" Kailey began, rising.

Laura shoved her gently but firmly back into her seat. "Sit your ass down."

Raul rounded back on Lucas. "You've been ESA for how long? You know the system rewards murder and punishes mercy. You know what happens to Gifted who surrender. You saw it last night. We all saw it. What kind of justice is that?"

Lucas stared at the floor. His hands trembled slightly. "It's complicated—"

"It's not," Raul barked. "It's not fucking complicated! You know what the ESA does. You know what they let the hunters do. You can't plead ignorance. I know you know this, considering what you know! So I want a fucking explanation for why you haven't walked away. Why are you still with them?!"

Kailey's voice was small. "Raul—"

"No!" Raul shouted. "He wants to talk about justice, but he's the one holding the knife, and pretending it isn't bloody. He's the one who knew what they were doing and stayed quiet."

Zest rubbed his temples, sighing. "Raul, knock it off."

Raul scowled at Zest. "I know you agree with me, Zest, so why shouldn't I say it?"

"Because you're talking to a damn brick wall," Zest said bluntly. "He knows you're right. We all know you're right. But you're wasting your breath on him. You're not going to change anything by shouting at him. If he truly believes in the crap he's constantly sprouting, he wouldn't be such a bleeding coward."

Lucas's fists clenched. "You—"

Zest glanced at him, bored. "You think we don't know about you? Leroy has a file on you. I've got one. Even the Abyss probably has one. You talk like you care. But you act like the rest of them. Little wonder Sera never told you the truth about her."

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"Sera—"

"If she trusted you," Zest growled, "you'd know what she's been through. She would have told you even before you figured it out for yourself. But she never did. You don't know anything about her, so you got no right to judge her. And don't you dare talk like you know anything."

Lucas opened his mouth. But Raul was already looming in front of him. "I was there," he hissed. "Before Aegis. I knew Sera. I knew Blade. I knew the kind of hell she went through. I knew what the hunters did to Zest. What they still do to kids. And I watched my friends die last night. Claudia. Ness. Gone. And you sit there, mouth full of excuses, acting like we're the villains?"

Lucas's vision blurred with emotion he couldn't name. Raul leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "You got no right to judge us, Lucas Alescio. You think your hands are clean?" He shoved Lucas back into the pillows. "They're fucking red."

Then the door creaked open. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoed into the room. Three figures stepped inside.

Sera walked in first. She looked like a storm given form.

Her black trench coat was still torn at the hem, soaked in soot and dried blood. The scarf tied around her waist hung limp, singed at the ends. Her hair—raven black, loose from its usual ponytail, clung to the sides of her face, framing eyes too old for her age.

Behind her, Leroy followed, his shoulders squared, and his jaw set in grim determination. His reddish-orange hair was matted, stained, and his deep red shirt bore a diagonal rip across the chest that hadn't been there before. There was a faint bruise forming on his neck, barely hidden by the silver cross at his throat.

Alisa trailed them with her usual grace, but even she looked shaken. Her white shirt was stained pink from drying blood, and the sleeves of her navy jacket were torn from the elbow. Her ocean-blue eyes were rimmed with red. But she held her head high. The quiet dignity of a blade that hadn't yet dulled.

The moment the trio entered, all eyes snapped toward them.

Laura exhaled first. "Sera. Leroy. Alisa." Her voice cracked with relief. "You're back."

Jamie was already halfway out of his seat. "How's Wes?"

Sera's eyes flickered, a shadow dancing across her features, but she didn't answer.

It was Leroy who did, stepping forward with a heavy breath. "Lleucu's with him. So is Suzy. He's going to pull through." He paused, placing a reassuring hand on Jamie's shoulder. "But there's going to be a lot of healing in Wes's future. A long road ahead. But he'll make it."

A collective breath rushed out of the room like a dam had cracked. Laura bowed her head. Raul let out a soft grunt of relief. Letha closed her eyes briefly, her lips moving silently—maybe a prayer, maybe a curse. Lucie's shoulders slumped, and Kailey let out a soft, quiet sob she smothered with her sleeve.

Jamie sank back into the seat like his body had just remembered its own weight. "Thank the Goddess…"

But the calm didn't last.

Sera's gaze cut across the room like a drawn dagger, suddenly locking onto Lucas. She took a step forward, her voice low and sharp. "And you're still here, Lucas?"

The room stilled again.

"I would've thought you'd be halfway out of Zalfari the second your eyes opened. This is an underground town—Abyss territory. And in case you've forgotten…" Sera's voice dipped, almost silken, almost venom. "Blaze territory."

All eyes turned toward Leroy and Alisa now, leaders of that very dominion.

Lucas opened his mouth. "I—"

"I think you've overstayed your welcome," Leroy cut in flatly. His tone was civil. His eyes were not. "I meant it the last time you were in Zalfari. We don't like ESA agents here." He tilted his head slightly, his reddish-orange hair falling into his eyes. "For Sera and Zest, we won't do anything to you. For now. But let me make it clear." His voice hardened like iron cooling in a forge. "Please leave."

Lucas hesitated, his hand tightening around the hem of his shirt. "I'm just—"

"Lucas," Sera interrupted, her voice harder now. "I'm saying this for your own good. You can walk out on your own power… Or we'll throw you out in pieces."

The silence was thick.

"You don't tangle with street gangs unless you've got a fucking death wish," Sera continued. "Especially not now. Not after what happened in Blackpool. Not after Ness. Or Claudia."

Her voice caught slightly at the end. A flicker. A crack in the ice. Jamie turned his eyes away.

Zest stood. The motion was slow, almost theatrical in its menace. "I'll see you out," he said coolly, stepping toward Lucas like a shadow stretching toward prey. Then he turned to Sera. "You coming?"

Sera's eyes lingered on Lucas one final time. Cold. Measured. And deeply, painfully tired. "…Yeah," she said at last. "I think I will."

The two moved forward in tandem—Zest to one side of Lucas, Sera to the other. Zest didn't wait for cooperation. He grabbed the back of Lucas's collar, yanked him up from the bed like deadweight, ignoring the way Lucas winced and stumbled. Sera flanked them, silent and unreadable, a spectre walking beside the condemned.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Silence reclaimed the room again like a tide. It was Lucie who broke it, her voice soft, but cutting. "I don't like him."

"Yeah, same here," Raul grunted, his arms crossed. "Despite what Sera says, she doesn't trust him. And I sure as hell don't. The only good ESA agent's a dead one."

No one argued.

Laura rubbed her temples, her eyes closed. "We're not in a world where things are black and white anymore, Raul."

"No," Raul agreed bitterly. "We're not. But they are."

He didn't need to say who he meant. Everyone knew.

The hunters. The ESA. Their enablers. Their supporters. All of them.

Those who called the Gifted "creatures." Those who hunted them like animals.

Those who saw Ness as nothing more than a weapon. Those who'd left Claudia's wind barrier echoing with screams as the explosives ripped apart flesh from bone.

Those who kept Wes in a cell for five years—drugged, chained, and electroshocked until his screams were nothing more than rasping gasps against sterile walls. Until they tried to break him.

Kailey hadn't spoken.

No one noticed the way her hands trembled in her lap. The way her jaw clenched. The way her fingernails dug into her palms.

She sat still, but her blood was screaming.

And unseen by all, Kailey O'Fearghail's hands clenched slowly into fists.

* * * *

Under the hard light of morning, Lucas stood facing the gates of Zalfari, if one could even call them that.

A crude but heavily fortified checkpoint had been erected, manned by two mercenaries dressed in mismatched tactical gear, both armed to the teeth. Their eyes tracked his every movement like predators watching an injured animal, their fingers never straying far from their triggers.

He didn't blame them.

There was a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. It settled on his shoulders like a mantle of guilt and memory, growing heavier with every breath.

Zalfari wasn't what it had been the last time Lucas had come here—over a year ago, back when he was seeking information on Zero and Aegis. Back then, it had been a fractured city with a pulse, stubbornly alive amidst ruin. Now, it had become something else entirely.

Barricades ran through the main roads like veins. Watchtowers overlooked alleyways. Armed lookouts paced rooftops like shadows on a leash. There were even whisperings of anti-aircraft turrets and underwater mines installed in the port district.

The message was clear. No one gets in or out unless Blaze allows it.

And if Lucas knew Leroy at all, then he also knew the man didn't leave anything to chance.

Sera and Zest stood at the entrance of the gates, merely watching Lucas, saying nothing. Even the guards at the gate seemed to grow stiffer, their eyes flickering between the former Blade members and the ESA agent who should've never been allowed to walk freely through these streets.

The mercs didn't say a word. They didn't have to.

Lucas exhaled sharply and turned to face them fully.

Sera stood with her arms folded. Her eyes glinted like fractured glass under the pale sunlight. That side ponytail of hers moved slightly in the breeze, the strands curling against her cheek like whispers of memory.

She didn't speak. Not yet.

Zest stood beside her, half a step back but no less imposing. Those red eyes of his weren't just staring at Lucas. They were dissecting him. Stripping him bare.

Lucas broke the silence with a shaky breath. "I totally get why they dislike me—"

"Do you?" Sera's voice sliced through him before he could finish. There was no venom in her tone. That would've been easier to take. No, her voice was cold and surgical—like a scalpel carving truth from delusion. "Do you seriously understand and get why my guys dislike and distrust you? Not just you. All ESA agents. But you in particular, Lucas Alescio."

He flinched at the use of his full name. The way she said it didn't sound like accusation. It sounded like disappointment. Worse.

Sera's arms dropped to her sides, but her eyes never left his. "You're the team leader in charge of hunting down Aegis. Team Alpha. You think that gets you a free pass?" Her lip curled faintly. Not in mockery, but something closer to grief. "Besides, knowing Raul, he likely kept tabs on you ever since his time in Dragonfly. Like he does with any ESA agent that catches his attention."

Lucas tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed thickly, then managed, "Things didn't have to come to this. We can co-exist. Why must we hate each other or be enemies? If we could just find some common ground—"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Sera cut him off again, a flicker of incredulity crossing her face. "I'm enough of a realist to know that what you're suggesting isn't just impossible. It's suicidal. Are you even listening to yourself, Lucas?"

Her voice didn't rise in anger. It deepened, darkened—like the skies before a storm.

"You're asking us to pretend to be something we're not. To be meek. To be quiet. To co-exist with people who don't even believe we deserve to live. Have you even looked around at what's happening in Eldario right now? Do you think this hatred just sprung up out of nowhere?"

Sera took a step forward.

"It was always there. Simmering. The hunters just gave it a voice. Nicolosi gave it fire."

Lucas faltered, his breath catching.

Zest finally spoke. His voice was softer than Sera's, but colder somehow. Deadlier. "Are you even looking at what's going on outside, Alescio? Are we seeing the same damn thing? You think they'll stop at the Gifted? That once they're gone, it's over? After them, it'll be the underground. Then the ESA. Anyone who stands in the way. I've seen men like Nicolosi before. They don't stop. Not until everything burns, and they're the only ones left standing."

"Zest—"

"I know men like Nicolosi." Sera's voice followed close behind, brushing against Lucas like a blade against skin. "I know violence. I know death. I'm well acquainted with both." She wasn't speaking to him now. Not really. She was staring past him—into some memory only she could see. "I was raised in the streets. The man who taught me to fight also taught me how to survive. I learned early on that there are no heroes in this world. Only those who live, and those who don't."

The wind picked up again, ruffling the ends of her scarf. "And just like your ESA and the hunters have politics, the underground has its own kind. But for us, there's one law above all else—one truth we all understand. Survival of the Fittest."

Sera's amber and green-red eyes locked onto his. "I've killed before, Lucas. I won't lie about it. No one in the underground has clean hands. But some of us… Some of us kill for reasons you'll never understand."

Lucas took a half-step back, a cold sweat rising along his spine.

"They say revenge has no meaning," Sera murmured. "That it only saddens the ones we've lost. I think that's a lie. I think vengeance does have meaning. It's satisfaction. It's justice when no one else will give it to you. What I did—what I am doing, isn't entirely for those I've lost. It's for me. There are crimes in this world that demand punishment. So I started this."

Lucas stared at the cracked pavement. At his clenched fists. "I… I swore when I joined the ESA that I'd protect those who couldn't protect themselves. That I'd stand up for justice. For Eldario."

Sera's expression twisted—somewhere between sympathy and scorn. "You got your priorities all mixed up," she said. "Tell me, Lucas. Is anything you've done even worth it if it destroys what you love in the process?"

Her words shattered something inside him. He had no answer.

Lucas could still hear the screams from last night. Claudia's final breath. Ness's explosion tearing through the earth. All for what? For an institution that couldn't even decide who the enemy was?

Lucie's name escaped him before he realised it. "Lucie… The Gifted girl at Agnis."

Sera nodded slowly. "That's right. Her father died because of your ESA. Because you wouldn't leave a scared child alone. To him, you're just another monster who tried to enslave and kill his daughter. And to most Gifted in this country, that's all the ESA has ever been. And the hunters. If things have been different, Lucie would never have crossed paths with us, and continued living a blissful, carefree life. But fate isn't so kind to her." Sera tilted her head. "Tell me, Lucas. Do you still think this is justice?"

Lucas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His throat was dry, like sandpaper. The truth tasted like ash.

Then, from down the street, footsteps approached—deliberate and heavy. Raul emerged from around the corner, his face shadowed beneath his coat's collar. He didn't spare Lucas more than a second of attention.

Just a glance. A look of loathing that said far more than any words.

"Sera," Raul said quietly. "Can you come into Pandemonium for a moment? We need your input on something."

Sera turned her head slightly toward him. "I'll be right there." Then she faced Lucas one last time. Her eyes no longer held anger. Only resignation. "Go back, Lucas," she said. "And for your sake… May we never cross paths again."

A pause.

"Because the next time we do, we'll be enemies."

Then Sera turned and walked away, her scarf trailing like the end of a funeral hymn.

Zest remained where he was, a silhouette of stillness carved from iron, his arms folded loosely, crimson eyes level, studying Lucas like a man dissecting an open wound. He hadn't moved once since Sera turned her back on them. Since Raul had glanced back with that unreadable look and had vanished back into the Pandemonium Bar.

The two guards nearby leaned against the wall, feigning indifference, but Lucas could feel their watchful stares like a weight behind his shoulder blades.

The whole world felt off-kilter now—quiet in the worst way. That kind of silence that settles after a bomb has gone off. Like the aftermath of a truth detonated.

Lucas shifted his weight, but didn't speak. He couldn't. Not at first. The knot in his chest was too tight.

Because everything Sera had said… It was still there. Still ringing in his ears.

He'd known she would be angry. Furious. Maybe even cold.

But this?

He hadn't expected her to look through him, as if she no longer recognised him. As if he were a ghost.

"I would've died for you. Doesn't that mean anything?" Lucas had wanted to ask. But he hadn't. Couldn't. Because he knew what her answer would be.

No. Not if it was the wrong version of her he had been willing to die for.

And Zest… Zest was still watching him. Still dissecting him with those predator's eyes.

Lucas would never admit it, but Zest had always made him nervous, even from the first time when he'd first met the other man. Though a very, very small part of him could admit that part of him is jealous of Zest, because Zest is the one that Sera chose, and not him.

Lucas sighed, finally forcing words past the dry catch in his throat. "Got something to say to me?" His voice was tired and bitter. "You going to tell me I'm wrong?"

Zest shrugged, an elegant motion, calm and almost uncaring. "I don't have the right to do that." He stepped forward, closing the distance slowly, his boots crunching over gravel. When he stopped, he reached out, and tapped Lucas over the heart. "In the end," he said, his voice low and steady, "the only one who can judge you on what you do…is yourself, Alescio."

The name—his surname, rarely spoken—landed like a hammer.

Zest's gaze didn't flinch. "Can you face up to yourself?" he asked. "Are you able to sleep at night? Someday in the future, when you look back at your past self, are you able to admit to yourself that you did the right thing?"

Zest paused. Then his lips curled, just slightly, just enough to bare the edge of a blade beneath his voice.

"Or are you going to be like a monster like your father?"

Lucas's shoulders stiffened. The jab was a scalpel under the ribs, and Zest had wielded it without hesitation.

"You don't have the right—" Lucas started, his jaw tight.

But Zest cut him off, not with force, but precision. "If there's anyone who can say this to you, it's me," he said sharply. "Because I've been through the same thing. Those rumours you've heard about me? As the Black Blade… Even the name Black Demon?" He nodded slowly and deliberately. "Every word is true."

Lucas stared at him, unblinking. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

Zest continued, his voice unwavering. "But I don't regret it. My past. My time with Blade. I face my own deeds and actions with no regret. And someday, when the Goddess finally calls me to Her side, I'll go with my head held high, knowing that I did everything I could." He looked down, almost wistfully. "No apologies. No excuses. Because the things I did—I did them not for myself, not for glory, not even because I wanted to. I did it because it's what Sera needed. Not what she wanted. Not what you think she wants."

That brought Lucas up short. He blinked, his mouth parting slightly. Zest stepped closer now. His red eyes locked onto Lucas's onyx.

"She's the first person who looked at me and saw something other than what I was born into. A common street thug. A living weapon. She gave me a reason to be something else. I am loyal only to her. Not to the war. Not even to Blade. And I will keep her secrets until my dying breath."

Zest's voice hardened. "The whole world can turn against her. But I won't. None of us will. Leroy, Alisa, Lleucu, Wes, Jamie… Even Raul. Blade and Aegis—we'd die for her. Because she would die for us."

Lucas flinched, the words cutting sharper than steel.

Zest's tone softened almost to a whisper. "You've never understood that part, Alescio. You see the version of Sera that you want her to be. The one in your head. But to love her, you have to accept all of her. The good and the bad. You can't just strip away the parts that don't fit the pedestal you've put her on."

"I love her," Lucas growled. "You don't get to tell me otherwise."

"No," Zest said quietly. "You think you're in love with her." He leaned in. "But it's just a dream. A projection. A version of her you built to fit your idea of love. That's not real. That's not her."

Lucas opened his mouth to snap back, but then closed it again. And for a fleeting moment, he remembered Timo's voice from that last conversation at Cross Café.

"I don't think you'll be the one that she will choose."

Zest watched the realisation pass through Lucas's eyes.

Lucas's fists shook. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Why is it you? Why can't it be me?"

Zest's expression softened, with something close to sympathy visible in his eyes. "…You and me," he said slowly, "we're different. But we're also alike. Two sides of the same coin." He exhaled through his nose, long and quiet. "And maybe that's why I dislike you so much."

Lucas stared at him, unsure if it was a confession or an insult.

Zest continued. "I look at you, and I see what I could have been. If I had taken a different road. If I hadn't met Sera." He straightened. "You asked why it's me. Why I'm the one by her side. The one she trusts." His gaze darkened, his voice dipping into steel. "It's because the more important something is to you, the more that you have to give up to protect it."

Zest took a step back. "So ask yourself this, Lucas Alescio: what are you willing to sacrifice?"

Lucas didn't answer. Because he didn't know.

Zest turned then, his coat whispering behind him as he walked away, back toward the lights of Zalfari. His shadow stretched long behind him, fading into the light.

Lucas stood in that silence, rooted in place, his fists still trembling, his heart thudding.

And then, unexpectedly, one of the guards shifted. The one on the right—broad-shouldered, his face half-obscured by his cowl, glanced at his companion, then looked directly at Lucas.

"You know," he said quietly, "Zest is right."

Lucas blinked, startled.

The man continued, his expression unreadable. "To love someone doesn't mean possessing them. And you shouldn't want to change them." He pushed off the wall, folding his arms. "From everything I hear," he added, "I don't think yours is a true love, Alescio."

Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

The guard shook his head slowly. "Please leave. Leroy was very clear. You're not welcome in Zalfari."

And with that, he turned his back.

Lucas stood alone.

Somewhere far off, a child cried out. A wall crumbled. A window shattered.

The war was still happening. Still consuming everything.

And for the first time since he joined the ESA, Lucas wasn't sure which side he was on anymore.

He didn't know where he stood. Or who he stood with.

The only thing he knew—

Was that the line between right and wrong had never felt so thin. And that the silence inside him was louder than anything he'd ever heard.

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