The final days passed by in a blink.

Preparations were made, decisions finalized, and plans set in motion after much thought.

Tomorrow, Bloodmane would call the summit.

The fire had burned low by the time Mira finished speaking.

"By their pace," she said quietly, "Bloodmane's army will take about a day to reach the summit grounds. Maybe less if they don't bother resting."

Ryn nodded once, already running the timing in his head.

"And Central takes about half a day from Moonlight."

Ryn looked up at the night sky. The clouds were thin tonight, dark and stretched out like spilled ink on paper.

Cold air settled into his lungs as he exhaled slowly.

"Good," he said. "Then they'll already be marching by the time we arrive."

Jay shifted near the edge of the camp, glancing toward the dark horizon. "And the Moonlight Tribe?"

Ryn didn't answer immediately.

He turned toward Mira instead. Toward the people behind her, toward the determined eyes.

"There will be violence," Ryn said plainly.

Mira didn't deny it. She only nodded.

He met Mira's gaze.

"And we won't be here when that happens."

Mira inhaled slowly. "I know."

"Then I'm trusting you," he said. "Survive."

Mira's ears twitched, just slightly.

"We will," she replied.

Ryn turned away before the weight of that answer could settle too deeply.

Checking each and every strap of his gear and armor, he finally looked over to his companions for confirmation.

They all nodded in unison.

"Then, we move," he said. "Straight to Central."

***

Dawn never quite reached them.

By the time Central's outskirts loomed overhead, the light above was muted and distant, swallowed by layers upon layers of mist.

They reached the access point without resistance.

As expected.

Bloodmane would have recalled his forces for the summit. Anyone left behind would only be in the way.

Jay checked a junction marker and nodded. "Schedule lines up."

"Good," Ryn replied.

They moved deeper, boots striking the familiar railway that led them out to begin with, footsteps echoing as they moved through the old metro line.

After walking for a while, Ryn slowed without meaning to.

His gaze drifted upward without conscious thought.

The signs were still there.

Metal placards hung from bent supports above the tracks, their paint long since faded, letters carved deep enough that time hadn't fully erased them.

Ryn slowed.

"…That script," he said quietly.

The strokes were sharp and angular, lines broken at odd points, and corners too deliberate to be decorative.

Amelia glanced up. Jay followed a heartbeat later.

Ryn felt something click into place.

"Jay, we've seen this before," he said. "At the Hero's house."

Jay frowned. "You're sure?"

Ryn nodded once.

"Yeah," he continued. "The placard, remember?"

Jay's eyes widened slightly.

"…The one above the inner door."

"Same writing," Ryn said.

He looked up once more, then started forward again.

"So whatever built the Hero's house," he said, voice steady, "was here too."

And then—

Everything snapped into place.

His mind drew back to Dheam, of Central's odd terrain. The fog that obscured everything…the weirdly habitable conditions present where Outside was completely frozen.

Ryn's breath slowed.

"…Of course," he murmured.

This wasn't just Central.

It was part of the Isles.

Not the whole thing—just a fragment. A section that had broken off long ago and fallen from the sky, now repurposed and built over so much, no one remembered what it used to be.

Jay exhaled slowly. "Does that… change anything?"

Ryn shook his head.

"Not here," he said. "Not tonight."

He paused, gaze lingering a second longer down the tunnel, thoughts already moving past the immediate.

"But it does make me wonder," he added. "If this had happened before, anywhere else."

Ryn pushed the thought aside with a quiet breath.

"Later," he said.

They reached the lab entrance as he spoke.

The doors stood exactly where they expected them to be.

Ryn stepped forward, placed a hand against the seal—and pushed.

The door slid open.

For a heartbeat, no one reacted.

Then the room erupted.

Chairs scraped violently against the floor. A tray clattered as someone knocked it over in their scramble to stand. Voices overlapped, clearly panicked.

"Who let them in?"

"Lock it, lock—!"

Ryn didn't raise his voice.

He lifted two fingers instead.

That was enough.

The party moved as one.

Amelia crossed the distance in a blur, heat flaring just long enough to force one researcher to stand down.

Fritz was already there, using the back of his sword to strike down another's knees, dropping the man instantly to the floor.

Jay moved wide, hands already working. Vials shattered underfoot as he kicked them aside, neutralizing anything that looked volatile before it could be reached.

Taylor vanished and reappeared behind the far console, blade at a throat before the man even realized he'd been flanked.

Ryn stepped forward calmly as the last of the resistance collapsed.

"Hands where I can see them," he said.

They obeyed.

Some were shaking. Others stared at the floor, breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls. One woman had frozen entirely, eyes locked on Ryn like a cornered animal.

Restraints clicked shut.

In less than ten seconds, it was over.

"All of them," Amelia said quietly.

"Good," he replied as he stepped closer to the tied-up group.

"Now," Ryn said, "you're going to explain exactly what you've been working on."

Ryn didn't repeat himself.

He let the silence stretch instead.

Eventually, one of them broke.

A man near the back swallowed hard, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white. "We—we're researchers," he said quickly.

"That's all. Engineers. Analysts. We're not soldiers."

Another voice followed, higher, shaking. "This wasn't our project. Not originally."

Ryn watched them without expression.

"What changed?" Fritz asked.

The woman nearest the central console answered.

"Management," she said. "Overnight."

She lifted her head, eyes rimmed red. "One day we had supervisors." Her voice wavered. "The next, they were gone."

"Taken over," the first man added. "We don't even know by who."

Jay frowned. "And you stayed."

"We didn't have a choice," someone snapped. "They brought contracts."

Ryn's eyes narrowed slightly.

"What kind of contracts?" he asked.

The room went quiet again.

"…Binding," the woman said at last. "We don't sign, we lose everything. Our work license. Our protection. Our families' stipends."

"And if we tried to leave," another researcher said softly, "we were reminded."

"Reminded of what?" Fritz pressed.

The man hesitated, then forced the words out. "That compliance was survivable."

Ryn absorbed that without comment.

"Next question," he said. "The drug."

Ryn tilted his head slightly.

"Tell me what it's for," he said. "Not the justification. The function."

The researchers exchanged looks.

A man near the central console swallowed. "It's… an enhancement compound," he said. "Designed to artificially increase Essence."

Fritz stiffened. "Essence?"

"Yes," the man hurried on. "But not in the way you're thinking." He shook his head quickly.

"It only amplifies the body."

"Muscle density," another added. "It pushes physical output far beyond safe thresholds."

Jay's jaw tightened. "So it doesn't actually enhance Essence."

"No," the woman from earlier admitted. "That was the goal. But the result is… crude."

Ryn watched them carefully.

"Then why use Beastmen?" he asked.

"Compatibility," the woman replied immediately. "Their physiology handles strain better."

She hesitated. "And fewer people ask questions when they're the ones used."

Silence followed that.

Fritz's hand curled slowly into a fist.

"So you're saying this thing doesn't work," he said. "At least not the way it was meant to."

"That's not—" the man began, then stopped.

He looked at Ryn.

"…There was one exception."

The room went very still.

"One subject," the man continued quietly.

"High compatibility. The compound didn't just amplify his body—it dissolved within him. We've never seen that before."

Ryn already knew the answer.

"Who," he said.

The man hesitated.

Then—

"Kharvos," he said. "Bloodmane."

Silence lingered after the name.

Kharvos.

Ryn felt it then.

Not a thought. Not a deduction.

A tug.

The kind that came when too many lines converged at once—when memory, pattern, and instinct all aligned in one go.

Ryn straightened.

"One more question," he said.

Several of the researchers flinched.

Ryn's gaze didn't leave them.

"Are Kharvos Bloodmane," he asked evenly, "and the authority you're working under—"

The pressure in his chest sharpened.

"—connected to the Cult of Evernight?"

One of them opened his mouth.

And then—

Crack.

The sound was sharp and wet, like bone snapping under sudden force.

The man jerked violently, hands clawing at his own throat as dark veins surged beneath his skin. His eyes went wide with shock.

"Hey—!" Fritz stepped forward instinctively.

Then another convulsed.

Blood spilled from his nose as his body locked, spine arching before he slammed down beside the first.

Ryn swore under his breath.

"JAY!" he snapped. "Try to stabilize them!"

Jay was already moving.

He dropped to his knees beside the second researcher, hands glowing faintly as he pressed them against the man's chest, searching for anything.

"Come on," Jay muttered. "Come on—"

Nothing.

The glow flickered, then died.

"They're gone," Jay said grimly. "Whatever it is, it already finished."

Ryn clenched his jaw.

One tried to speak—

And collapsed mid-breath.

Another followed a heartbeat later, body going limp like a puppet with its strings cut.

The room fell silent again, bodies strewn across the floor…a loose end that someone had cut.

"They were about to answer," Amelia said quietly.

Ryn nodded, eyes dark.

"And I pushed too far."

He looked down at the nearest body.

"Doesn't matter," he added. "The response tells us enough."

He didn't let the pause stretch.

Instead, he lifted a hand and gestured forward.

"Let's move," he said quietly.

The party hurried up the stairs, as Ryn turned for one last look, a thought coming to his head in finality.

Dheam hadn't been caught in the Cult's schemes.

It had been their playground from the very beginning.

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