The orders came with no room for question.
At dawn, under the thin light of a pale sky, the last of Jeffery's men were dragged to the tree line. Their weapons had already been stripped, their faces bruised, their pride battered into silence. They were shoved out beyond the ridge, where the farmland gave way to empty road.
And with them, bound and limp as a corpse, went Jeffery. His body twitched once in protest, but the containment cuffs sizzled, locking his every nerve in paralysis. Two of Scott's boys carried him like discarded freight, then dropped him into the dirt.
The men who still had breath to curse glared back at the town, but the look in Julius' eyes from the porch was enough to snuff their rage into fear. They did not linger. They limped and staggered their way east, carrying Jeffery with them, shadows swallowed by the road's dust.
Meanwhile Inside the barn, the mood was taut.The trainees were gathered, lined up in uneven rows, packs slung, eyes darting. They had seen too much in too little time, some with their faces pale while the rest had a normal reaction. Julius stood before them, his coat heavy on his shoulders, voice low and exacting.
"Our walls are broken," he said. "They know where you sleep. That means this place is dead. You don't linger in a burned houseyou move before the embers spark again."
He let the words sink in, then swept his gaze across them.
"You are not scattering. You are fleeing. You are relocating. Each of you will carry a mask of character. Wear it until it grows into your skin but don't loose yourself. Your survival depends on it."
A hush rippled through the line.
By the second day, plans had been set. Ryan, Holly, Claire, and Rein boarded a faded bus at dawn. Their papers were perfect embossed seals, forged records, accents rehearsed in secret until even their own tongues believed them. Their destination: a university in Ohio, where they would walk the halls as foreign students. Scholars. Outsiders with notebooks and backpacks, blending into lecture halls instead of barracks.
Ryan leaned back against the bus seat, fingers drumming against his knee. Holly sat beside him, mask tucked away, her silks replaced by jeans and a loose sweater that still somehow carried her spark. Claire clutched a leather satchel like it was armor, eyes sharp beneath her quiet demeanor. Rein watched the windows, always too still, like a shadow that never learned how to sit.
None of them spoke much. But they all knew this wasn't exile. It was laying low.
The others took a different path to Pittsburgh. A cluster of apartments tucked between aging red-brick towers, the smell of iron and rain thick in the air. Their covers were social workers remote based, case files stacked on desks, laptops humming through the night. The lie was simple: people who helped people, hidden in plain sight.
Crook pulled his coat tighter as he stepped into the new flat, surveying the walls with a grunt. "At least the roof don't leak."
Oscar unpacked with methodical precision, books and blades side by side. Vincent leaned out the window, watching the streets below with a silent frown, the city's pulse beating against his bones. Yunli sat at the small kitchen table, sorting documents with her usual cold care, though her eyes flicked once toward the door always the door.
They were not students nor were they neighbors. They were watchers, placed like stones across a riverbed, unseen but shaping the current.
Back on the ridge above the abandoned farmhouse, Julius stood alone with Scott. The wind rattled the skeletal windmill, creaking like an old warning.
Scott's jaw was tight. "Feels wrong. Splitting us up like this."
Julius didn't answer right away. His eyes were on the horizon, where the sun bled thin across the far hills.
"They'll search here first," Julius finally said. "By the time they realize the walls are empty, our roots will remain uncompromised."
Scott spat into the dirt, fists clenching. "And Jeffery?"
Julius' lips thinned, unreadable. "Jeffery is a message. If his leash holders are wise, they'll read it. If they aren't… then the next message won't be just a soft pat."
The silence between them was long and heavy.