The silence of Poseidon was broken by the hiss of hydraulics.
Kael sat on the edge of his bunk, still haunted by the echoes of the dream, when the door to his cell slid open—an event as rare as sunlight in this place. Two guards stood outside, flanking a tall figure dressed in black: a man wearing a porcelain mask and a tailored coat that didn't belong in a prison.
"Kael Aerwyn," the masked man greeted, his voice smooth and rehearsed. "Time to rise."
Kael didn't move. "Who the hell are you?"
"Someone offering you a way out," the stranger said. "Name's Hans Christian Andersen. Don't laugh. I didn't pick it."
Kael stared at him, then rose slowly. "You're real?"
"As real as the hole you're rotting in. Let's talk somewhere less... moldy."
They took him through corridors Kael had never seen, past forbidden gates and Arcana barriers. Eventually, they arrived at a large steel door. Hans touched a panel, and it slid open to reveal a sleek aircraft—compact, black, humming with quiet power.
"Welcome aboard," Hans said. "We're going to Base Omega."
Kael frowned. "Never heard of it."
"You wouldn't. It's not for people who want to be heard."
Base Omega
The flight was quiet—no guards, no restraints. Just Kael, Hans, and a loaded silence.
When they landed, Kael stepped into a world that didn't match anything he expected. Base Omega was carved into the side of a snow-capped cliff, camouflaged against the mountain. Steel walls and surveillance towers blended with ancient stone. It was a fortress—and a graveyard for second chances.
Inside, soldiers trained. Gunfire echoed from distant ranges. Arcana flared in controlled bursts.
"Welcome to Vendetta," Hans said, removing his mask. Underneath was the face of a teen—no older than seventeen—with silver eyes and a knowing smirk. "Surprised?"
"You're just a kid."
"Just a kid who can outmaneuver warlords. You'll get used to it."
They passed rooms labeled with call signs, training halls, and a lounge where a man in a bartender uniform split into three people to clean, stock, and repair simultaneously.
"That's Jonathan," Hans explained. "Runs the base. Tech genius. Bit of an Alfred complex."
One of the Jonathans gave Kael a small nod before merging with the others.
They entered a meeting room where two figures waited.
The first was a woman in her thirties with silver hair tied back and eyes like glacial daggers. She wore a military coat with a rapier at her hip. "You must be Kael Aerwyn," she said. "I'm Natasha Frost."
Kael stiffened at the name. "You're... the leader?"
"I'm the one deciding if you get a second chance," she replied. "You used a forbidden technique. Killed your family. I should burn you where you stand."
Kael tensed.
"But instead," she continued, "I'm going to offer you a deal."
Behind her, a tall, unarmored man leaned against the wall with a massive railgun strapped to his back. He gave Kael a casual nod. "Evan Blackthorn," he said. "Sniper. Weapons dealer. Natasha's fiancé. Call me if you want to lose a limb in training."
"Nice railgun," Kael muttered.
"It's named Natasha," Evan said with a grin.
Kael raised a brow. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious," Natasha replied.
Hans cut in. "You'll be on Team B. Five others—each as cursed and dangerous as you. Complete twenty missions under our command, and you're free."
"And if I say no?" Kael asked.
Evan cocked his railgun. "You won't."
The Team
Later, Kael was shown to a briefing room where the rest of Team B awaited.
At the table sat a girl around his age with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. A spear leaned against her chair. She looked up when Kael entered.
"Luna," she said simply.
"Kael," he replied.
They stared for a moment longer than necessary.
Beside her sat a cocky, grinning man spinning a revolver on one finger. "James. I rob banks, shoot faster than I think, and apparently got saddled with you."
His twin revolvers rested on the table—sleek, black, and humming faintly.
Two younger kids sat at the end. One cleaned a short sword while the other examined a pistol twice their size. They looked no older than twelve.
"They're the Resonance Twins," Luna whispered. "They fight as one. Don't underestimate them."
"They're... kids."
"They're weapons," James corrected.
Kael took his seat.
Across from him, Luna met his gaze again. "Whatever you did before... leave it behind. We all have sins. Vendetta's about surviving them."
Kael nodded once.
For the first time since Poseidon, he felt something that wasn't regret.
He felt purpose.