Inside Thom’s house, the night dragged on in heavy silence.

  Rhea kept her eyes fixed on Dorne. Thom had gone upstairs to Lina’s room and stayed there. Nero sat near Dorne as well, while Vinn and Kato kept a quiet watch on him. No one spoke much.

  Finally, the pale light of dawn crept through the shutters, brushing the room in soft gold.

  Thom came down the stairs.

  “It’s daytime. The lockdown’s over. People must have opened their doors by now,” he said. “We need to take Dorne to Anika.”

  Rhea shook her head.

  “We can’t move him. If we try, he might start bleeding again. Bring the doctor here instead.”

  Thom gave a small nod and turned toward the door, but Vinn stood.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I can handle it myself,” Thom replied quickly. “Besides, showing up with the military might frighten Anika.”

  Rhea frowned at that.

  Kato added, “He’s right. Dropping the military at her doorstep will only spook her. You shouldn’t go, Vinn.”

  Vinn didn’t answer—he only looked at Nero. Calm. Waiting.

  Nero met his gaze and gave a faint nod.

  “Thom,” Nero said. “Take him with you. Who knows if there are more creatures out there.”

  “There aren’t,” Thom answered flatly. “There was only one mon—”

  Nero cut in, his voice cold. “And how can you be so sure?”

  The room fell still. Nero’s silver eyes pinned Thom, unblinking.

  “Just let Vinn go with you.”

  Confusion flickered across Thom, Kato, and Rhea’s faces.

  Thom didn’t argue. He simply turned and headed for the door, Vinn following silently behind.

  The moment Thom stepped outside, sunlight lanced across his vision. He lifted an arm with a groan, shielding his eyes. But as his hand lowered, he froze.

  There—before him—hung the creature’s corpse. Suspended in midair by jagged spikes of ice. Its frozen body gleamed as the morning light fractured across the crystal edges.

  The sight was grisly. The air still reeked faintly of chemicals. The ground bore patches of frost and scorched earth, blood splattered between them. The monster’s right arm lay discarded on the dirt, while shards of ice marked the spot where Nero had pinned its leg with his own hand.

  The town no longer looked lived in. It looked conquered.

  Thom said nothing more and started toward Anika’s house. Vinn followed a step behind, his weapon holstered but his hand never far from it, ready for any sudden move.

  They reached Anika’s door. Thom knocked firmly.

  “Anika? It’s me, Thom. Dorne’s badly injured—he needs help, now.”

  No answer.

  Thom glanced sideways at Vinn, only to find the soldier’s eyes fixed on him. Turning back, Thom knocked harder.

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  “Anika! It’s safe now—the monster’s dead!”

  Silence stretched—then faint footsteps approached from inside. The doorknob turned, and the door opened a crack.

  Anika peered out, looking drained and weary. Vinn noticed the exhaustion etched across her face, though he said nothing.

  Thom hurriedly explained, “Dorne’s in bad shape. He needs stitches.”

  Anika didn’t step fully into view. Her eyes shifted past Thom and locked on Vinn.

  “What is the military doing here?”

  “It’s a long story,” Thom said quickly. “But they’re not here to hurt us.”

  Anika exhaled a long sigh, then nodded faintly.

  “Alright. If you say so.”

  She pushed the door wider. “Wait here—I’ll grab what I need.”

  Thom nodded. “Okay. But hurry.”

  A few minutes later she reappeared, a carry bag slung over her shoulder, packed with medical tools. Together, the three of them hurried back to Thom’s house.

  On the way, Anika glanced over the town. The frozen monster’s remains glistened in the morning light, frozen blood still staining the ground. Her grip tightened around the bag, but she didn’t comment—her expression unreadable.

  Inside Thom’s home, Anika entered the room where Dorne lay. Her eyes immediately fell on Nero.

  “Are you alright now? The crack on your face is gone.”

  Nero gave a small nod. “Yeah. I’m fine. But Dorne—he needs help, fast.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice steady. “He’ll be fine.”

  She turned to Rhea. “I’ll need another pair of hands. Can I count on you?”

  Rhea nodded without hesitation, and the two women set to work on Dorne.

  Inside Ironwatch Hold, Milo lay on his bed, awake. He hadn’t slept a wink through the night. Instead, he smiled faintly, humming that warped, glitchy tune to himself.

  His quarters were empty—his roommates were part of the Iron Veil unit. Alone, Milo finally rose, stretched, and stepped into the hall.

  A soldier strolled past. Milo recognized him.

  “Hey, Jack! How’s it going?”

  Jack stopped, grinning as he walked over. “Yo, Milo! How was your time-out?”

  “Fuck you, man,” Milo shot back, smirking.

  Jack laughed, unbothered. “What? Hit a nerve?”

  Milo chuckled. “Three days locked up in quarantine? Boring as hell. I thought I’d die in there.”

  Jack laughed harder. “Imagine that—the General making your death announcement: ‘Milo was strong and brave, but sadly… he died of boredom.’ Now that’d be something.”

  Both of them broke into laughter, tears stinging Jack’s eyes.

  “Yeah,” Milo wheezed, grinning wide. “That would be funny as hell.”

  As the laughter faded, Jack asked, “Jokes aside—you good, man?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Milo said casually. “Shard was hot, burned my hand. That’s it.”

  Jack frowned. “Bad luck. Three days quarantine over a burn?”

  “Tell me about it,” Milo said with a shrug. “I told Lieutenant Relin I was fine, but she wouldn’t budge.”

  “Lieutenant Relin doesn’t take risks,” Jack said. “Not with the base.”

  “True,” Milo agreed. Then his smile sharpened. “Hey—I almost forgot. I’ve got something for you. You free?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got an hour.”

  “Perfect. Come in—I’ll grab it.”

  They stepped into Milo’s quarters. Milo locked the door behind them.

  Jack glanced around. “Hey, where’s your drone? The one you’ve been working on for weeks?”

  Before he could turn back, Milo peeled the bandage off his right hand—and pressed it against the back of Jack’s skull.

  Jack froze. His body stiffened. His mouth wouldn’t form words.

  Milo’s voice changed. Cold. Commanding.

  “Make more followers. Find the one. Kill everyone close to him.”

  The words came again and again, a mantra of venom, burrowing into Jack’s mind. He stood motionless, eyes wide, listening. Absorbing.

  At last, Milo released him. Jack blinked, then slowly turned. His voice was flat, distant.

  “It shall be done. Just as you said.”

  Milo’s smiled.