They didn't lose the fight.
They lost the moment after.
The rain thinned to a mist, the kind that made distance lie. Smoke curled low, alarms stuttering as The Red Group systems tried to decide whether this was still a breach or already a massacre.
Brine was still holding Lena when the world clicked.
Not the sound of a gun.
The sound of inevitability snapping back into place.
"Don't move," a voice said—calm, amplified, everywhere.
Red dots bloomed across Brine's chest. Across Moody's throat. Across Lena's heart.
Silver Mark didn't aim to kill first.
They aimed to own the pause before it.
Brine froze instantly, body angling without thought to shield Lena.
Moody didn't raise his hands. He simply stopped—like a predator deciding whether the trap was worth springing.
From the smoke, men in ash-gray armor emerged. No insignia. No wasted motion. Their helmets reflected nothing human back.
The Silver Mark Men.
Rafferty's personal execution tier.
A shape followed them.
Slow. Applauding.
"Well," Mr. Rafferty said, stepping into the light, silver-capped cane tapping against broken stone, "this is efficient."
He laughed—soft, delighted.
"Three birds," he continued, eyes gleaming as he took them in, "one stone."
"You two think, you're the only ones with skilled men? I got the whole gang here in the city working for me. And what you see here, all the dead bodies here, they were to keep you busy. To exhaust you and I'm glad my plan worked. So.....
His gaze settled on Lena.
"You always were the best variable," he said warmly. "Even when you didn't know it."
Brine snarled.
"Touch her and I'll—"
Rafferty raised a finger.
One of the Silver Mark men adjusted his aim. Just a millimeter.
"Careful," Rafferty said lightly. "If any of Moody's men try to make a move or your men—" he glanced at Moody, smile sharpening, "—his head will be the first thing flying into the sky."
Moody didn't blink.
"Still using spectacle to hide fear," he said.
"Predictable."
Rafferty chuckled. "And you're still pretending you don't care who dies first."
He turned his attention back to Lena.
"Do you know," Rafferty asked conversationally, "how rare it is to catch both Hellfire's favorite ghost and the city's most inconvenient survivor in the same net?"
Lena's pulse thundered. "Let us go."
Rafferty smiled at her like she was a clever child.
"Oh, my dear," he said, "you are the net."
He circled them slowly, cane tapping, savoring the moment.
"And you know what makes this truly poetic?" he continued. "Family."
Brine stiffened.
Moody's jaw tightened—just a fraction.
Lena felt it before she understood it. The shift. The fracture.
"Family?" she echoed.
Rafferty stopped between the brothers and laughed outright.
"Oh," he said, delighted, "you didn't tell her?"
He looked at Brine. Then at Moody.
"Two sons," Rafferty went on, almost fond.
"Same blood. Different scars. One who ran. One who stayed."
Lena turned slowly toward Brine.
"No," she whispered.
Rafferty waved his cane dismissively.
"Half-brothers, if we're being precise. But blood doesn't dilute that easily."
Her world narrowed to Brine's face.
"You knew," she said. Not a question.
Brine opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Moody looked away.
That hurt more.
"You both knew," Lena said, voice shaking now. "You let me—" She swallowed hard.
"You let me trust you."
Brine stepped forward without thinking.
A Red rifle hummed, charging.
"Don't," Rafferty said pleasantly.
Brine stopped, hands curling into fists at his sides.
"I was going to tell you," he said, voice raw.
"After. When you were safe."
Lena laughed once—a broken sound.
"After?" she said. "After you decided for me again?"
Her chest ached, the device beneath her skin thrumming like it sensed the rupture.
Moody finally spoke.
"He didn't betray you," he said quietly. "I did."
She looked at him, eyes bright with hurt.
"You made me walk into this," she said. "You made me believe I had a choice."
"You did," Moody replied. "You still do."
Rafferty sighed theatrically.
"Beautiful," he said. "Truly. Nothing destabilizes a miracle like heartbreak."
He leaned closer to Lena, voice dropping.
"You see now," he murmured, "why you were always going to belong to Silver Mark? Not because of what you carry."
He tapped her chest lightly with the cane.
"But because of what you break."
The Silver Mark Men tightened their formation. Chains clicked into place.
And as Lena stood between two brothers who had never told her the truth, her heart fractured in a way no device could correct.
The stone had landed. She had already accepted him as his. But the worse scenario was, all three birds were caught. With No escape.