She cocks her head. “Don’t I? He used to work for my father. Itrainedwith him, back before he went soft. He’s good at death, bad at loyalty. He’ll sell you out to save the empire he’s built. Just watch.”
My eyes don’t leave hers. A single tear slips down my cheek, silent and unbroken.
“Then you never knew him at all.”
She leaves with a smirk and a tossed command. The door slams shut.
I sag against the wall, breathing hard, heart hammering. Ben’s face is pale, jaw set like he’s trying not to cry.
“He’s not gonna trade us, right?” he asks in a whisper.
I shake my head. “He won’t evenhesitate.”
Ben’s eyes widen.
I smile. “I meanhe’s coming.Right now. And they’llwishthey had just let us walk.”
Ben’s voice is small but steady. “Like a superhero?”
I lean close.
“Better,” I whisper. “He’s a storm.”
CHAPTER 38
JAV
The dropship doesn’t touch down—it hovers just long enough for me to jump. Boots slam into damp gravel. The sky above Glimner is a bruise of violet and steel, thick with static. Lightning spiderwebs across the clouds, and I let the rumble settle into my bones.
Behind me, Garkin’s voice crackles in my earpiece. “Jav, this is stupid. You need backup. You’re walking into?—”
I rip the comm out and toss it into the mud.
No distractions. No hesitation.
This isn’t a mission.
This is retribution.
The League compoundrises out of the Trenell cliffs like something grown, not built—obsidian slabs fused into rock, glowing lines of heat venting from beneath. There’s a shimmer over the roofline—a cloaking field, old tech, easily bypassed if you know the code.
I know the code. I helped install it back when I still wore the Nine’s mark like a badge of honor.
I crouch at the edge of the ridge, wind biting through the seams of my armor. My hand rests on the hilt of my vibroblade. On my hip, the plasma pistol hums softly, synced to my bio rhythms. Each heartbeat sharpens my vision.
I descend through a hidden vent—old Redscale smuggler tunnel carved decades ago and long abandoned. Or so the League thinks.
They forgot whomadethese shadows.
Iamthe shadow.
The tunnels reek of mold and recycled heat. My boots hit the floor without a sound. Ahead, two guards—Tilkan brutes, big but slow. One has a slouch; the other shifts too often. Bad discipline.
I move in close. Fast. Efficient.
One throat slit. One nerve bundle crushed.
Bodies drop. No sound.
