“This place gives me the creeps, Marshal,” Doug muttered, stepping carefully over the snow-covered ground. Elijah didn’t respond immediately. His sharp eyes scanned the abandoned village, taking in the half-collapsed roofs, the broken windows, and the eerie silence. The storm had buried much of it under ice and snow, but traces of its past remained—scattered tools, torn banners, faded carvings on the walls. A place forgotten by time. Elijah crouched, brushing away snow from a wooden sign. The words beneath were barely legible, but he could make them out. RavengateHe frowned. “I’ve heard this name before.” Doug tightened his grip on his rifle. “What is this place, sir?” Elijah’s fingers trailed over the letters. “A research site. One of The Warden’s early bases.” Doug stiffened. “You think Sophia was here?” Elijah stood, his expression unreadable. “Maybe. Or someone like her.” They moved carefully through the ruins, their boots crunching over ice. The deeper they wen

"Fall back! Now!" Doug's voice barely carried over the roar of the explosion. The blast sent waves of fire and debris through the battlefield, throwing men off their feet. Smoke choked the air as Elijah pushed forward, ignoring the pain in his shoulder where shrapnel had sliced through his coat. He couldn't stop—not when Sophia was still out there. "Marshal! We have to regroup!" Doug caught up, his face streaked with ash and blood. "No," Elijah growled. His eyes burned with fury. "She's here. I can feel it." Doug hesitated, then nodded. "Then we fight through." They moved with ruthless efficiency, cutting down enemy soldiers who tried to block their way. Gunfire rattled through the air, but Elijah barely heard it. His focus was on one thing—getting to Sophia. Across the battlefield, Sophia stumbled. Her hands trembled, her breath ragged. The energy inside her pulsed like a living thing, hungry and desperate. She clutched her head, trying to suppress the unbearable pressur

“We’re running out of time,” Elijah said, his voice sharp as he surveyed the dimly lit hideout. “We move tonight.” Doug stood at his side, nodding. “Understood, Marshal. But we still don’t know what we’re walking into.” “That’s where I come in,” Lando said smoothly from across the room, leaning against a crate. Elijah turned his cold gaze to him. “And why should I trust you?” Lando smirked. “Because you don’t have a choice. I know the layout of The Warden’s stronghold. I know how to get you inside without triggering every alarm in the place.” Doug’s hand hovered near his weapon. “And what do you want in return?” Lando’s expression darkened slightly. “A future. One where The Warden doesn’t control everything. Like it or not, our goals align—for now.” Elijah studied him, weighing his words. He hated relying on a man like Lando, but time was slipping away. Sophia needed him. “Fine,” Elijah said at last. “But if you try anything, I will put a bullet in you myself.” Lando

“Elijah… don’t come any closer.” Sophia’s voice trembled, but her power did not. Energy crackled around her like a storm barely contained, making the air thick with heat and tension. Her hair floated, her irises burning with an unnatural glow. The ground beneath her feet cracked, pulsing with the force threatening to break free. Elijah stood just a few feet away, his body bloodied and worn. He could barely keep himself upright, but he refused to back down. “I’m not leaving you.” Behind him, Doug steadied Cassian, whose wounds were severe. Lando stood further back, eyes flicking between Sophia and The Warden, calculating his next move. The Warden merely smiled, watching like a proud creator admiring his masterpiece. “Ah, there she is. The real Sophia.” Sophia clutched her head, her breathing ragged. Voices flooded her mind—memories, pain, whispers of power demanding to be used. She could feel herself slipping, drowning in it. “I don’t want this,” she whispered. “But you d

"They think they can hide," Elijah muttered, staring at the map spread before him. "But they're wrong." Doug stood beside him, arms crossed, his face set in a grim expression. "Marshal, the Thompson family has built their stronghold deep in the northern mountains. Lando’s information confirms it—it’s heavily guarded, nearly impenetrable." Elijah’s jaw tightened. "No fortress is impenetrable. We just need the right approach." Across the room, Lando leaned back against the wooden wall of the outpost, arms folded. "You’re making this sound easier than it is. The Thompsons don’t operate like the Shaws or the Wints. They’re strategists. If you go in blind, you’ll be walking into a death trap." Elijah’s gaze snapped to him. "Then tell me something useful." Lando smirked but didn’t hesitate. "The Thompsons have spent years working in the shadows, funding secret projects, bribing officials. But their real power isn’t in money—it’s in knowledge. They’ve collected blackmail, hidden ex