The smell of blood and death was biting in Cain’s nose. His bionic eye scanned the ruined outpost, its sharp red glow cutting through the haze of smoke. The wreckage stretched out around him like a graveyard, scattered bodies of Ascended soldiers twisted in unnatural angles. His eye flickered through various spectrums, searching for heat signatures, residual energy readings—anything that might give him a lead. But deep down, he already knew who had done this.

  ?Valkyrie,? he said and the woman, with her deep red hair tied into a tight knot, stepped next to him.

  ?Yes, sir?? She looked at him with a hardened look, expecting his orders.

  ?Look for survivors,? Cain said. ?And take Brion and Alice with you. Find out what happened.? Valkyrie nodded and without wasting another second she got going. For a moment Cain stood still, just thinking about nothing but how the Godhunters, the only people he expected to do this, suddenly got brave and strong enough to do this… Was Synara right about her, he thought, but before he could entertain that thought more, Abel stepped next to him.

  ?Did you find something out yet,? Cain gritted his teeth. It pissed him off, that Abel had to go with him, but it was an order from Elohan; and Cain is not to dismiss orders.

  His brother moved gracefully over the uneven terrain, his pristine uniform untouched by the filth and carnage around them. The bright white of his Ascended insignia stood out against the dark, scorched landscape, as if mocking the blood and soot Cain wore like a second skin.

  Cain clenched his fists, forcing his expression to remain neutral as Abel stopped beside him.

  ?Did you find anything yet?? Abel asked, his tone smooth and calm, like someone inquiring about the weather.

  Cain’s jaw tightened. ?Not yet.?

  Abel surveyed the scene, his expression unreadable. His eyes passed over the bodies and debris with a clinical detachment that made Cain’s stomach churn.

  Cain finally glanced at Abel, taking in the man’s pristine appearance. No armor, just his perfectly pressed uniform that made him look more like an emissary than a warrior. There wasn’t a single drop of sweat or blood on him. Cain could almost hear the smugness radiating off of him, though Abel’s face betrayed no such emotion.

  Abel stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression one of measured curiosity. ?It’s odd, isn’t it? For this outpost to fall so suddenly. These soldiers were trained, well-equipped.?

  Cain could feel Abel’s gaze on him, probing, though his tone was casual.

  ?It doesn’t matter how trained they were,? Cain muttered. "?They were caught off-guard. Slaughtered before they had a chance to fight back.?

  Abel raised an eyebrow. ?And yet someone had to be bold enough to launch this attack. A boldness we haven’t seen in years.?

  Cain didn’t respond. He didn’t trust himself to.

  The truth was, he hated having Abel here. Elohan’s orders had paired them, and Cain had no choice but to obey. But every second beside his brother felt like a thorn in his side.

  Abel was everything Cain despised—arrogantly untouchable, always shining in their father’s eyes. Even now, Abel’s tone was calm, his expression neutral, as though he were above the chaos of the moment.

  Cain couldn’t stomach it.

  He turned back to the wreckage, letting his bionic eye scan another cluster of bodies. ?Valkyrie will find something. She always does.!??

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  Abel smiled faintly. ?She’s quite capable. You’ve trained her well.?

  Cain barely nodded.

  Cain’s bionic eye whirred softly as it refocused on the scene ahead, scanning the wreckage for any clue the smoke might conceal. His focus wavered, however, when Valkyrie appeared, her strides purposeful, her face set like stone. Behind her, Brion and Alice trailed, carrying something—or someone—between them.

  Valkyrie stopped a few paces from Cain and Abel, her gaze flicking to Abel before settling on Cain. ?We found a survivor.?

  The man was barely conscious, his head lolling forward as Brion and Alice lowered him to his knees. His armor was scorched, melted in some places, his face pale and streaked with soot and blood. He struggled to draw breath, each wheeze rattling in his chest.

  Cain crouched in front of the man, his mechanical eye scanning him for injuries. He was in bad shape—third-degree burns on his arms, a shattered leg, internal damage Cain didn’t need his tech to confirm. He wouldn’t last long.

  ?Who did this?? Cain asked, his voice low and sharp.

  The soldier’s head lifted slightly, his bloodshot eyes locking on Cain. ?A demon,? he rasped, his voice barely audible. ?She… she looked like she was Made out of the fire… flaming red hair… a crimson hood…?

  Cain froze. His mind raced, images of the Red Hood flashing unbidden in his mind—her hood, the red of her hair catching the light like embers. Synara’s words echoed in his thoughts.

  ?A demon?? Abel’s voice interrupted, calm but laced with curiosity. He stepped closer, his pristine boots stopping just shy of the survivor’s bloodied knees. ?That’s quite the claim.?

  The soldier coughed violently, blood flecking his lips. He tried to speak again, but the words dissolved into unintelligible gasps.

  ?Medic,? Valkyrie called over her shoulder, but Cain raised a hand to stop her.

  ?He’s dying,? Cain said flatly, his gaze fixed on the soldier. ?He’s not going to make it.?

  Abel’s eyes narrowed, his attention shifting to Cain. ?And yet he managed to describe the attacker. A demon with flaming red hair. Sounds like someone you might know, doesn’t it??

  Cain shot Abel a glare, his fists clenching at his sides. ?Don’t start.?

  The soldier grabbed weakly at Cain’s arm, his grip feeble but insistent. ?She’ll… come for you too,? he whispered, his breath rattling one last time before his body went limp.

  Cain rose to his feet, his jaw tightening. The others stood in silence, the weight of the soldier’s final words lingering like the smoke in the air.

  Abel broke the quiet, his tone maddeningly calm. ?It seems the Godhunters have a new weapon. One we should take seriously.?

  Cain didn’t respond. He turned away, letting his eye scan the horizon. He wasn’t thinking about the Godhunters as a whole. He was thinking about her.

  Abel noticed the subtle shift in Cain’s posture—the tightening of his jaw, the way his hand hovered near the scar on his neck, as though it were a phantom wound.

  ?It’s a reminder, isn’t it?? Abel’s voice cut through the tension, quieter now, but still with that same unsettling calm. He reached a hand to Cain’s shoulder, as if to offer comfort or perhaps to push a button. Either way, the gesture felt wrong. ?You’re haunted by her.?

  Cain's body stiffened under Abel's touch, and for a brief moment, he considered shrugging it off. But he didn’t. He kept his gaze fixed on the horizon, willing himself to ignore the burning sensation that had started to crawl up his neck.

  ?I don’t need your pity,? Cain spat, his voice low but sharp. ?Stay the hell away from me on this.?

  Abel pulled back his hand slowly, his expression unchanged. ?I’m not offering pity, Cain. Just… understanding. But if you prefer to walk this path alone, I won’t stop you.?

  For a moment, Cain let the silence settle between them. It was heavy, thick with words unsaid and emotions barely contained. Then, with a sudden exhale, he broke the quiet.

  ?She’s not a weapon,? Cain muttered under his breath, the words more for himself than for Abel. ?She’s… too damn dangerous. And if the Godhunters are using her...?

  Abel raised an eyebrow, taking a step back. ?Then we must be careful. What does she mean to you, Cain??

  Cain shot him a look—cold, unfeeling. His hands clenched again, as if to contain the storm brewing inside him.

  ?Nothing,? Cain lied, forcing the words past his lips.

  Cain took a slow breath, his bionic eye flickering in a quick, almost imperceptible scan of Abel’s face. The sincerity in his brother’s tone was disarming, unsettling even, but it didn’t change the truth Cain had buried so deep inside himself.

  ?I’ll deal with this,? Cain said, his voice firm, though his heart hammered in his chest. ?But this time, Abel... stay out of my way.?

  Abel didn’t answer immediately. He simply stood there, watching Cain with that unnervingly calm expression.

  ?As you wish,? Abel replied finally, before stepping away, his pristine figure moving further into the wreckage.

  Cain turned back to the horizon, ignoring the sudden, searing pain at his neck. He knew Abel had seen it—the mark that the Red Hood had left behind. And now, that pain was a reminder of a past he could neither outrun nor escape.

  The Godhunters were playing a dangerous game, and they were willing to use anything to win. Even her.