Silence.
Not the peaceful kind — but the kind that pressed down like the aftermath of a bomb. Heavy. Hollow. A ringing beneath the silence that told you something had been lost.
Xavier opened his eyes.
Or tried to.
His HUD flickered in and out, cracked at the edge of his vision. Pain bloomed sharp through his chest, ribs tight, one gauntlet hanging limp at his side. His body screamed stop — but his brain wouldn't listen.
He pushed himself up through the haze.
Toya.
The name crashed through his skull like a siren.
He stumbled toward the wall, boots scraping through debris. Sparks lit the hallway in scattered flashes. Kane was down, smoke rising from his armor. Sparrow was groaning somewhere behind a collapsed console. Hunter was out of sight.
But Toya—
She lay crumpled against the far wall, her jacket torn, one claw glove completely destroyed. Blood streaked her arm. Her eyes were closed. Too still.
Xavier didn't think. He ran.
"Toya!"
He dropped to his knees beside her, hands shaking as they reached her neck. Pulse — faint. But there.
He exhaled, part relief, part rage.
"C'mon," he whispered. "Don't scare me like that."
Behind him, Kane stirred with a pained grunt. "What... was that?"
Xavier ignored the question. His focus stayed locked on Toya. Her chest rose — barely. She was breathing. That was enough.
Until—
The hallway groaned.
Metal warped.
A hiss of frost spilled across the corridor floor, crawling like smoke but colder. And in the center of the wreckage—
Frost.
Shayna dropped in from above, a thin trail of blue ice forming beneath her feet as she skidded into position.
Her white-blonde hair was tied back, face streaked with soot, one eye narrowed in pure fury.
"Move," she snapped.
Xavier shifted just in time for Frost to kneel beside Toya, slamming both palms to the ground.
A shockwave of sub-zero energy pulsed out in a ring, sealing cracks in the floor, slowing heat signatures, stabilizing the burst corridor.
Xavier looked at her, still breathing hard.
"You got our ping?"
"Just in time," she said. "Is she—?"
"Alive. Barely."
Frost didn't answer. She was already forming a sheet of cryo-stabilizer beneath Toya, preserving her vitals for evac.
Anitta Von Ross. Mask off. Blood across her temple. One augmented arm humming faintly, the other clutching her custom long-range rifle like it had been fused to her since birth.
She moved with purpose — scanning the corridor like she didn't just survive an explosion. Her eyes flicked to Xavier. "Area's clear."
Xavier gave a curt nod. "You good?"
"Still breathing." She paused, loading a fresh cartridge into her rifle with a click. "Not much else matters."
Then she turned to help Frost brace Toya for evac — no hesitation. No comment.
But Xavier noticed something.
Not fear.
Not fatigue.
Just her pure focus.
Like she wasn't surprised by anything that had just happened.
Before he prod further, Hunter emerged from the shadows of the upper ledge with a loud animalistic grunt, limping slightly, two blades sheathed and eyes locked on the smoke ahead.
He didn't say a word as he locked eyes with Xavier.
Didn't need to.
They lost and the Knight was gone.
✦ ✦ ✦
Citadel Med Wing, Hours Later
The lights were dim.
Xavier sat in the recovery unit beside Toya's cryo-pod, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. His armor was gone. Replaced by a simple black undersuit — torn at the collar, still dusted with ash.
The rest of the team had been treated.
Frost hadn't left Toya's side for the first two hours. Kane was getting patchwork biometal grafts. Sparrow had refused sedation.
Xavier hadn't moved in hours.
He sat stiff, jaw locked, elbows on his knees. His gaze locked on the glass wall in front of him — where Toya floated inside a medical stasis pod, suspended in pale blue gel. Her vitals pulsed slow and steady, though her chest rose with unnatural effort. Every few seconds, a coil of white light would flicker across her arms — a remnant of the overload her body was still recovering from.
The shockwave hadn't been meant for her.
But she'd been closest when the Knight detonated.
Thrown backward like a broken comet. Hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent.
He'd seen it. Watched it happen. Frozen in that instant between his command and her crash.
Behind him, the med bay doors hissed open.
Grim entered — no longer in scorched leathers and dusted ash. He wore G.H.O.S.T. Command protocol attire now: matte-black coat draped over an armored chestpiece, the ghost crest gleaming in brushed chrome on his collar.
He walked up beside Xavier, gaze fixed on the pod.
Neither spoke for a while.
Then:
"She's stabilizing," Grim said. "But the internal damage was real. Bloodlust Rage leaves... fractures. She's lucky."
"No," Xavier said quietly. "She's unlucky to be standing that close in the first place."
He scrubbed a hand down his face.
"I should've seen the charge-up. I had the angle. I had the read."
"You're not the reason she fell," Grim said.
"I was the leader. That makes it my fault either way."
A pause.
Grim shifted — not with reprimand, but with a weight that came from carrying blame too long himself.
"You're angry," Grim said.
"Not at her," Xavier replied.
"I know."
Another pause.
Then Grim added, voice low:
"But that anger? That feeling like you'll never be enough to stop what's coming? It either eats you alive — or it forges you into what you need to become."
Xavier turned to look at him.
"You always talk like we already lost."
"No," Grim said. "I talk like I've seen what happens when we forget how much we have left to lose."
They stood there a moment longer — just two silhouettes framed by the glow of a girl healing in silence.
Then Xavier nodded once.
Resolve flickering his Hazel gleaming eyes.
"You said the Knight's still out there," he murmured.
Grim didn't flinch. "It won't be for long."
✦ ✦ ✦
Citadel – West Armory Bay, Midnight
The world outside the med wing was still chaos — protests, fear, drone feeds, whispers of Marsa and the name Vaknar rising like black smoke. But down here, in the belly of the Citadel, it was different.
Quieter.
Colder.
Xavier stood in the shadows of Bay 7, where their ship had landed after the Yukon raid. The lights were low, humming with static. Tools clattered faintly from the repair decks across the hall. The ghost of battle still clung to him — not in blood, but in memory.
He stared at the wall for a long time.
Until a familiar voice broke through the silence.
"You look like you just fought a chihuahua and lost like crazy."
Xavier turned.
Toya was leaning against the side railing — her frame wrapped in a regulation compression coat, claws off, hair pulled back, bruises still blooming under her cheekbones. A single bandage split across her collarbone, but she stood with her arms crossed like nothing could touch her.
Not even the pain.
Not even what she endured.
Xavier tried not to stare too long. But damn, she was something.
And she was alive.
Barely.
He nodded once. "You're supposed to be in bed."
She raised a brow. "You gonna put me back there?"
He smirked — just barely — and looked away.
Toya walked forward slowly, every step testing the limits of her healing muscles. She stopped beside him and leaned on the railing.
The silence returned — thicker now.
Then she spoke, quieter:
"You saved me."
"No," Xavier said. "You took the hit. Kane just pulled you out of it."
She didn't answer immediately.
Then: "I lost control."
Her voice shook. Just enough to betray the truth.
"I don't remember activating Bloodlust. Just rage. That thing — the Knight — it didn't just set me off. It made everything feel... raw. Like I couldn't breathe unless I broke something."
Xavier looked at her, really looked.
"Toya," he said softly. "You didn't lose control. You made a choice. You saw it charging that blast and threw yourself between it and the rest of us."
She met his eyes.
"Yeah. And it nearly cost me everything."
"No," Xavier said. "It reminded me what everything is."
That landed harder than she expected.
She looked away.
Xavier stepped closer, voice gentler now. "You think rage is your flaw. But it's your strength. You don't give it power. You use it to protect people. That's not losing control — that's what leaders hope to have beside them when the real monsters show up."
Toya's throat tightened. She didn't respond — not immediately.
Then, after a long pause:
"You always talk like someone twice your age."
"Yeah, well," Xavier shrugged. "Turns out watching the world almost end twice in a week makes you philosophical."
They both laughed. Quietly. The kind of laugh that came from surviving the worst night of your life and still having a reason to smile.
Toya stepped forward.
Their shoulders brushed.
Neither moved away.
Xavier's hand shifted — almost instinctively — brushing hers near the railing.
She didn't pull away.
And for a moment, they stood there.
Not as operatives. Not as weapons.
But just Xavier and Toya — bruised, bloodied, burned — still standing.
Then the comms chirped to life overhead.
"Team Alpha — Report to Tactical Deck Gamma. Briefing in ten. Target designation: Cairo Echo One."
Xavier didn't move.
Toya gave him a sidelong glance.
"Back to it?"
He nodded.
But before he turned to leave, he hesitated. Just a beat.
Then said, not looking at her:
"You ever need someone to catch you again... I'll be there."
She smiled — faint, fierce, and real.
"Better be."
✦ ✦ ✦
Citadel – Recovery Training Ring
One hour later
A thin mist curled across the padded floor as cryo fog dissipated from the entry hall.
Frost stood in the center, white hair tied back tight, her usual tactical suit swapped for lightweight spar gear. Her gauntlets were off — her hands bare and cold — literally. They shimmered with frost lines.
Across from her, Toya stretched her arms in slow, deliberate movements. Her body was stiff, still healing, but she moved like a blade sharpening itself.
No claws today. No bloodlust.
Just her. And breath.
"You ready?" Frost asked.
Toya nodded.
The ring activated.
Light barriers locked in.
From above, Xavier watched through the observation pane — arms folded, expression unreadable.
The spar began slow. Frost feinted. Toya countered. No hits landed.
Then Toya stepped in fast — jab, sweep, dodge — and Frost spun low with a trail of ice under her heels.
The two moved like polar opposites — heat and chill. Rage and control. Fire and ice.
Finally, Toya hit the mat.
Hard.
Frost offered a hand.
Toya took it — then yanked her into a grapple.
They both hit the floor, laughing.
That was the first time Xavier saw her smile since the blast.
He turned to leave, finally breathing.
Behind him, the glass fogged just slightly — Toya looking up, eyes meeting his retreating form.
Not with blame.
But with something else he couldn't quite place.
✦ ✦ ✦
Citadel – Sublevel Omega
High-Security Ops Room Z-Delta
03:47 Hours
Xavier didn't head to rest.
He took the lift six floors down — past the sparring decks, past R&D, straight into the bowels of the Citadel where the walls were steel and the air never warmed. Where secrets lived.
She was already waiting.
Anitta Von Ross sat cross-legged in the center of the chamber, surrounded by a ring of G.H.O.S.T. Councilors, elite operatives, and two men who could bend the world: Grim, standing like a silent war ghost — and Atlas, arms folded, still radiating the kind of intensity that cracked metal.
Her posture was relaxed. Too relaxed.
Especially for someone who'd been presumed dead for six months.
Especially for someone who just survived a point-blank Knight-level inferno detonation without backup and walked out like she'd been expecting it.
"Glad you could join us," Councilor Klaus Borin said stiffly, his voice a mix of diplomacy and controlled paranoia. "We were just about to discuss whether you were a walking miracle or a walking traitor."
Anitta smiled.
Not nervously. Not apologetically. Just... patiently. Like a chess player letting everyone else play checkers.
"I'd prefer miracle," she said. "But traitor has a nicer ring."
Across the room, Hunter, Frost, Oliver, and Xavier took up positions on the perimeter. Everyone but Toya and Kane were present — Toya was still recovering. Kane had to help lift a chunk of the Hold's walls up that had fallen.
Xavier stood beside his latest invention: a six-foot, obsidian-arched frame studded with light nodes, psych-sync scanners, thermal resonance coils, and cortical pulse meters.
"It's called a Pulse Cage," he said, resting one hand on the frame. "Combines biometric stress diagnostics, neural synchronicity tracking, and real-time lie detection via memory fragmentation scans. Designed it with the R&D division last month for field interrogations."
"Translation," Frost muttered. "It makes Pinocchios light up like Christmas trees."
Anitta arched a brow. "Festive."
Atlas didn't smile. "Get in."
She did so with protest or hesitation.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, the arch lit up in streaks of soft violet, scanning her pulse, breath, temperature shifts, and subtle eye twitches. It would know if she lied.
Xavier's voice didn't rise.
He asked the questions plainly.
"Where have you been for the last six months?"
Anitta tilted her head. "Off-grid."
"Who were you with?"
"No one. I moved under the radar. I knew if G.H.O.S.T. knew I survived, I'd be brought in for this exact circus."
The Pulse Cage held steady.
"She's telling the truth," Xavier confirmed. "Or she thinks she is."
Grim finally spoke in a low and focused tone.
"You went dark after the Cairo strike. Debris signature matched your DNA. You were presumed KIA. Why fake your death?"
Anitta looked up at him, the humor gone now.
"Because I saw what was coming."
Xavier's eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?"
Anitta's fingers tapped once on her arm — a metallic rhythm on her augmented limb.
"In Cairo, I was on mission tracking a breakaway Cabal cell. They had a serum prototype... not unlike what the Vaknar used. But it wasn't for enhancement. It was for... imprinting."
Atlas straightened slightly.
"Imprinting what?"
"Identity," she said. "Memories. Personality templates. Copies of high-ranking G.H.O.S.T. agents... cloned into operatives loyal to someone else."
That shifted the room.
Councilor Borin muttered, "You're claiming we've been compromised by doppelgangers?"
"I'm not claiming anything," Anitta replied. "I'm saying I found evidence of it. And the second I did... something hit the Cairo site hard enough that I almost met our maker. I still don't know what the frack it is that took my whole team down. I couldn't sleep for months without the flashbacks...and my husband..."
She looked at Grim now. "You ever heard of a force that wipes out your whole squad... but leaves you alive, without a scratch?"
Grim's silently nodded maintaining a weary straight face.
The Pulse Cage shimmered again — fainting green. Truth.
Xavier nodded, more to himself than anyone. His eyes were sharp now. "And since then?"
"I stayed gone. If they could copy me, I didn't want to lead them back. So I went underground. Then the Yukon happened — and I knew I was out of time."
Oliver crossed his arms. "So you just show up at the exact moment we need a miracle?"
Anitta shrugged. "Would you believe me if I said fate?"
Hunter snorted. "I don't believe in fate. Only timing. And yours sucks."
Still — the Pulse Cage didn't spike once.
Grim stepped forward.
"Do you still consider yourself loyal to G.H.O.S.T.?"
Anitta's voice was quiet now. Still deadly clear.
"I took the Oath. For the Fallen. That hasn't changed."
Atlas's gaze didn't blink.
"Then we trust her."
Klaus frowned. "You can't be serious—"
Grim raised a hand. "We don't have to like it. But we believe the data. The Cage doesn't lie."
Xavier slowly deactivated the device, stepping forward as the light drained away.
His eyes met hers.
"One wrong move."
Anitta smiled, something colder in it now. "You'll be the first to know."
"Stay sharp."
The voice didn't come from her.
It came from Xavier's earpiece, flaring with a soft encrypted tone. Atlas's voice, clipped and private.
"Keep an eye on her. If she is who she says she is... she's valuable.
If she's not—
you'll be the one to stop her."
Xavier's jaw flexed — barely.
He didn't respond.
Just turned and walked out of the interrogation room without another word.
Anitta watched him go, her expression unreadable.
✦ ✦ ✦
The Citadel – Training Deck Gamma
The hum of kinetic fields echoed through the hollow expanse, pulsing with soft-blue energy. The training deck was quieter than usual — no crowd, no command observation, just the distant thrum of moving targets resetting in the rafters.
Hunter Solomon stood at the center.
He moved with precision — sharp pivots, knife in each hand, his body a rhythm of muscle and breath. Every slash, every spin, every reverse grip flowed like second nature.
But his aim wasn't as clean as usual.
He missed.
Once.
Twice.
A third blade thunked into the target's edge — barely nicking the corner. He stopped, breathing harder than he should have.
The silence around him stretched like judgment.
Hunter rolled his shoulder, jaw clenched tight. His knuckles were white around the hilt of the next blade.
The door hissed open behind him.
Frost stepped in.
She didn't say anything at first. Just watched.
Eventually, he glanced back. "You here to throw snowballs or just stare?"
"Neither," she said, walking across the floor. "You've been at this for two hours. Thought we called today a rest cycle."
Hunter let the last knife fall into its sheath with a metallic click. "Didn't feel like resting."
Frost nodded, slowly. She stepped closer, folded her arms. "You're off-balance."
"Gee, thanks."
"I'm not insulting you, I'm stating the obvious," she said. "You haven't been the same since the Knight."
Hunter didn't reply. His jaw flexed again.
"You blame yourself?" Frost asked.
He shrugged, like it was nothing. But his voice didn't match. "I was flank lead. That blast hit Toya before I even processed the charge-up. I was too far. I should've seen it."
"You're human."
"We're all supposed to be better than that."
Silence fell between them.
Frost exhaled. "This team needs you focused, Hunter. Not perfect. Just... focused."
He looked away. The shadows of the deck bent over his frame, cutting jagged lines across the floor.
"I'm trying."
"I know."
A beat passed. Then:
"You know she's asking for you," Frost said, motioning toward the med wing. "Toya. She's up — barely. But she remembers who dragged her out."
Hunter nodded once, then turned toward the racks.
He began collecting the knives in silence.
Frost didn't press.
She just stood there. A pillar of chill in the warm, echoing room. Watching the cracks beneath his usual confidence.
Not judging.
Just... knowing.
Because under all the armor, all the command pings and kill-counts — Hunter Solomon was still trying to outrun the one thing no soldier ever could.
Failure.
And the fear of watching his team fall again.
✦ ✦ ✦
Citadel — Training Deck Gamma // 02:14 Hours
The gym was supposed to help you clear your head. For Kane, it mostly made him want to punch things harder.
He stood next to the weight rack, his right arm wrapped in synth-fiber bandages that glowed faint blue, graft lines still refusing to fully settle. The left was still armored — dented, burn-scored, and barely clinging to its socket.
The bench press sat untouched.
And Kane glared at it like it had insulted his entire family tree.
"Pretty sure staring won't make it lighter," Oliver Midas said, stepping in from the dark corridor.
He had that usual too-casual thing going — hood half-up, shadows licking his shoulders like he borrowed them from a noir film. His bow hung lazily across his back. But for once, he wasn't smirking.
Kane didn't turn.
"Not in the mood for songbirds."
Oliver raised a brow. "Wow. Did you think of that one while you were taking your time to get to the group?"
Now Kane turned.
Slowly.
"You got something to say, feather-boy?"
Oliver took two steps closer. "Yeah. You keep acting like throwing yourself in front of every blast makes up for your lack of urgency. It doesn't. Sometimes it just makes you a liability with good abs."
Kane's shoulders tensed. "I saved Toya's life."
"But you coulda beat the brakes off the Knight!" Oliver snapped. "That's the part you don't get. You don't always need to be the wall. Sometimes people depend on you to be there in time to fight, not someone to die in front of them."
A pause. Tense. Sharp.
Kane's voice dropped.
"You hiding behind illusions doesn't make you braver than me."
"I'm not hiding. I'm supporting my comrades," Oliver shot back. "Something you'd know how to do if you ever started trying."
Kane stepped forward, every movement like a boulder getting ready to fall off a cliff.
"You wanna go, Midas?"
Oliver didn't blink. "No. I just want you to grow the hell up."
Neither moved.
The silence stretched.
Kane's fists clenched.
But then—he turned. Loaded another plate on the bar. No more words.
Oliver exhaled slowly.
And walked out without looking back.
✦ ✦ ✦
Citadel — South Tower Overlook // 03:00 Hours
The city below looked like it was breathing static.
Glowing drones pulsed in the haze. Protest chants bled up the sides of buildings. Civilian feeds were going viral with clips of fire, shadows, chaos.
It felt like the end of something.
Maybe the start of something worse.
Xavier stood at the railing, silent. His jacket was zipped halfway, hair still wet from the rinse cycle he didn't remember taking.
Toya sat on the ledge, legs swinging slightly, compression bandage still coiled tight under her sleeve. Her claws were retracted. But her eyes? Still glowing faintly red at the edges.
Frost leaned against the tower's inner beam, sipping something dark. It steamed more than it should.
Hunter arrived next — quiet, jaw locked, hoodie half-zipped. He didn't say anything. Just stood.
Then came Kane.
He nodded. Nothing more.
Anitta was already there.
She hadn't said a word since the mission, but she stood just behind Toya, arms crossed, rifle holstered, expression unreadable. A quiet presence. Nothing more.
But her eyes never left Xavier.
Finally, Oliver stepped into view, hands in his coat pockets, expression unreadable.
None of them uttered a word for twenty minutes.
Then Xavier spoke.
"Yeah we lost this battle."
He didn't raise his voice. Didn't try to command.
"But we're not done with the war."
Toya didn't look up, but her foot stopped swinging.
Frost exhaled softly.
"We end this," Xavier said. "The Knight. The Cabal. All of it."
Toya's voice was low. "We make them pay."
"Starting with the Knight," Xavier echoed.
They all stood there — not as soldiers, not yet as legends — but as a team teetering on the edge of something bigger.
Then—
Ping.
A soft chime echoed through each of their comms.
The sound was subtle — but it cut through the silence like a warning.
[INCOMING TRANSMISSION – ATLAS PRIORITY CODE]
Xavier tapped his earpiece. "We hear you."
Atlas's voice came through, low and grave:
"Coordinates just dropped. Outskirts of northern Australia. There's Local chatter says something's moving underground. Hope you enjoyed your few hours in silence. Gear up. Wheels up in one hour.""
The comms cut out.
The team exchanged looks without a flicker of doubts in their eyes.
Just a silent agreement.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
Toya cracked her neck. "Guess vacation's over."
Hunter smirked. "We never get vacation."
Xavier turned toward the elevator bay, voice low.
"Let's finish what they started."
And behind them, the city lights kept flickering —
as if the whole world was holding its breath.