Waiting hurts more than the wound.
The Hall was too quiet now—not the peaceful kind but the kind that vibrates under your skin and leaves and unsettling deafening noise in your ear. Kelvin paces near the entrance to the living room., his boots soft against the polished floor. He keeps running his hands through his her again and again like if he does it enough times Liliana would appear right in from front of him.
He hasn't slept.
And it shows. Everywhere. His loose hair, escaping its tie in uneven strands. Dark shadows sit stubbornly under his eyes, and there's a tension in his shoulder that never fully eases, no matter how many deep breaths he takes. Every few seconds his gaze flicks to the door, then to me, then away again.
I on the other hand feel… wrong.
Not just injured—wrong. Heavy. Slowed and uneasy. My abdomen throbs in a steady, punishing rhythm, like my body was counting each second, I shouldn't be broken and every breath pulls faintly on my wound. Almost as if to remind me that being normal also came with its own very painful consequences.
I hate it. Every second of it.
I hate feeling weak, I hate how I am stuck to the couch barely able to move. I hate that Liliana it not sprawled across the couch next to me making a snarky comment on how awkward this situation is.
Most of all, I hate waiting.
"He should be back by now," kelvin mutters more to himself than to me.
'he will be," I say. Though my voice comes out thin.
Gabriel never delays without reason. Which means whatever he found—or didn't— has weight.
The door slides open without warning.
The air in the room instantly changes.
Gabriel steps in.
Both Kelvin and I froze.
His footsteps where slow, measure and very heavy.
His coat was still dusted with travel grit. His hair was slightly out of place and his jaws where clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack.
His eyes flickered across the room. It landed on kelvin then on me.
For a fraction of a second… it almost felt as though his mask had slipped. But it vanished as quickly as I saw it.
Without a word, he turned and walked toward his office and without a word, both kelvin and I followed suit.
Gabriel's office matched his vibe perfectly. The shelf was lined with dark wooden shelves, with ancient books, tactical files and artifacts from lifetimes long past. I massive black desk sat near the window. It was spotless…well except for a single crystal glass and neatly stacked document.
It felt more like a war room disguised as an office with the walls covered with maps and pinned with red strings, coordinates and note scribbles with a very overly precise handwriting.
He was behind the desk, not a single word was uttered from his mouth.
The silence stretched and my chest started to tighten.
"I—" I started, I voice was barely steady. "Gabriel I—"
"Don't"
His voice was sharp, cold and dismissive. He did not even bother looking at me.
His eyes locked on kelvin. "give me the run down. Start at the beginning"
Kelvin began – his voice steady but strained. He explained the concert setup, the VIP relocation, the suspicious guards, the drugs, the fights, the escape, and the chase.
I on the other hand just kept adding details where he hesitated.
The questions came like rapid fire and they were all directed at kelvin. Question Gabriel knew fully well that he would not be able to answer.
"What route did they block?"
"What type of chemicals were used?"
"What were their insignias?"
"Gabriel…I wasn't there, I don't know." Kelvin answers tightly, raising his fully slightly more than he intended to.
I answered.
"No routes were blocked but they did take the industrial route to the east". I say sharply. "Towards the lowlands."
Nothing not even acknowledgement. At this point I felt like furniture.
This feels like torture.
Fine. I groan in frustration.
If he was going to pretend I was not there, I can just pretend not to care
Kelvin clears his throat softly.
"I finished analyzing the crash site," he says, his voice steady, despite the exhaustion lining on his face. "I realized a few… anomalies."
Gabriel nods once.
"proceed."
Kelvin taps the tablet in his hand, projecting several images across the wall screen. Grainy satellite photographs appear, the wreckage of out car, scorched asphalt, tire tracks cutting violently across the road.
"I traced the trajectory of the vehicles, their retreat path diverges from standard escape logistics. Instead of heading towards the major transport routes, they moved inlands."
He enlarges and image.
Dark soil fills the image— rich, almost black, texture with mineral streaks.
"At first I assumed it was just agricultural lands but the chemical composition did not match standard farming zones."
Gabriel leans toward slightly.
"What did it match?"
Kelvin hesitated just enough to tell me that the answer is bad— very bad.
"It is high nutrient bioactive soil."
Something cold slides down my spine.
He swipes again, pulling up a chemical chart.
"this region has an unusually dense amount of dense alkaloid-producing vegetation. The type used in synthesizing high-grade narcotics… aphrodisiacs…neural stimulants."
My stomach twists.
Drug cultivation. Experimental compounds.
Human testing.
I don't realize I've spoken until my voice cuts into the room.
"They were not trying to kill us."
Gabriel still does not look at me.
But I see it — the faint tightening of his shoulders.
Kelvin nods slowly.
"Exactly. The damage patterns on the crash site suggest controlled extraction. The chase was intentional. They wanted to take one of you."
My hand curl into fists.
Extraction.
Taking Liliana.
Leaving my bleeding on the pavement.
Gabriel finally speaks.
It makes sense. Any of them would be economically valuable.
I feel sick before he can even finish the sentence.
"the compounds grown on that soil are extremely expensive to stabilize," kelvin explains. "testing requires constant biological turnover. Subjects die frequently. Replacement costs are enormous."
He pauses.
Then:
"A regenerative subject eliminates the expense entirely."
The room goes very still.
Of course.
Of course, that would be logic.
An immortal body.
A self -renewing laboratory.
An endless experiment that never runs out.
My throat burns.
"they did not just kidnap her, the harvested her."
Kelvin nods grimly.
Gabriel's hands tighten against the desk.
For a fraction of a second, the mask cracks — rage flashing across his face so quickly I almost doubt I saw it.
Kelvin pulls up a final file.
A symbol appears.
Red.
Coiled.
Serpentine.
"they were dismantled decades ago," Kelvin says carefully. "At least… that's what we believed."
Gabriel finally lift his gaze. Not to me though but to the symbol.
His voice drops lower.
"The red Vipers"
The name settles in the room like poison.
Memories flicker at the edges of my mind — laboratories hidden beneath civilian infrastructure, entire villages disappearing overnight, research disguised as commerce.
They did not just deal drugs.
They engineered dependence.
Weaponized biology.
And apparently…
Their organization never died.
Gabriel straightens slowly.
"They adapted," he says. "They went underground. Shifted into scientific acquisition."
Acquisition.
A polite word for abduction.
For torture.
For experimentation.
My chest tightens painfully.
Liliana is alone in a lab somewhere, still probably cracking jokes, pretending not to be scared.
I step forward instinctively. "We need to move in now."
Gabriel ignores me completely.
He turns to kelvin instead.
"Do we have a location?"
Something inside of me snaps.
"Can you please stop treating me like I am not here, I was there" I say sharply. I fought– "
"Enough"
The word slices through me.
Gabriel still does not look at me.
"I am handling this."
Heat floods my chest. Handling this?
Liliana is gone.
I was shot.
We were targeted.
And here he is treating me like a liability to be managed.
My voice comes out colder than I had intended.
"You are not handling this. You are avoiding me."
Kelvin shift uneasily.
Gabriel says nothing.
The silence hurts more than anger would.
I laugh once humorless.
"really? That is the strategy now? Pretend I don't exsist and let the problem fix itself."
"Nothing"
My pulse pounds.
I hate that I care.
I hate that his approval still matters after everything.
Kelvin steps in gently.
"Anna—"
"No," I cut in. "I nearly died because of these maniacs. I deserve to be part of this conversation."
Gabriel finally turns.
His eyes meet mine and the force of it steals the air from my lungs.
There was no cold detachment…only fear.
It was buried beneath anger, so tightly controlled, it almost felt like cruelty.
"You" He says quietly, "were not supposed to be in danger at all."
The word hit harder than shooting ever could.
I stare at him.
"And you think excluding me now fixes that?"
His Jaw tightens.
Kelvin quickly intervenes, projecting another screen.
"I located a probable site," he says his voice deliberately neutral. "it is an abandoned construction complex fifteen kilometers east of the crash route."
Blueprints flicker to the wall.
Old.
Faded.
Hand-drawn annotations barely visible beneath the digital scanning.
Kelvin Squints.
"These plans are…detoreriated and the original structural language it outdated."
He hesitates.
Then he reluctantly turns towards me.
"…Anna."
Gabriel's Gaze sharpens instantly.
Kelvin Continues anyway.
"You are the only one that can read this era of architectural notations"
For the first time since entering the room, Gabriel looks like he might argue with reality itself.
I hold out my hand.
"Give to me"
A long pause.
"Premodern industrial reinforcement," I murmur. "hidden sublevels and ventilation shafts disguised as drainage… and here- "
I zoom in.
"There is a concealed secondary laboratory access with no markers."
Kelvin leans closer.
"That is where they are most likely keeping her."
Liliana could be alive somewhere beneath concrete and steel."
I exhale slowly.
"the only viable entry avoids the primary security corridor. The only problem is that it is too narrow for multiple people."
Kelvin nods.
"So, in conclusion, infiltration requires minimal physical profile."
I already know where this is going.
"Send me"
Gabriel's response is immediate.
"No'
No Discussion.
No hesitation.
Just refusal.
My patience evaporates
"I am literally the logic choice."
"NO"
"You are being irrational"
"I am being cautious"
You are being stubborn"
"And you'" he snaps. Voice finally rising, "are injured"
The room crackles with tension.
"I can still move"
"You can barely stand without pain"
"I will manage."
His eyes flash.
"I am not sending you to hostile territory with your regeneration compromised"
There it is. Fear disguised as authority.
I step closer despite the pull of my wound.
"She is my responsibility too."
"And I am responsible for you" he fires back.
Kelvin quickly steps between us.
"Both of you— stop."
Silence falls again. Heavy and strained.
Kelvin speaks carefully.
"She knows the structure. Excluding her would increase the risks."
Gabriel says nothing.
Seconds stretch.
He finally exhales.
"… She stays on lookout"
I blink.
"What?"
"You remain outside," He says firmly. "observation and extraction support only"
It's a compromise.
A frustrating, infuriating compromise.
But it is also permission.
I nod once.
"Fine"
Gabriel turns away immediately.
"Prepare. We leave soon."
Dismissed.
Just like that.
I leave before the anger shows on my face. Before he can see how much the distance actually hurts me.
My room feels wrong without Liliana obnoxiously loud music ringing through the wall.
It felt… too quiet, too orderly, too empty.
I sit at the edge of the bed staring at nothing.
Every memory of her feels louder now.
Her laughter echoing down the hallways
Her dramatic entrances.
Her terrible jokes.
Now the house feels like a mausoleum.
Guilt slowly creeps in.
If I had noticed the effect of the drugs earlier.
If I has insisted we leave earlier.
If I had been just a litter faster—
My chest tightens.
This is my fault.
A soft knock interrupts my train of thoughts.
Kelvin enters without waiting for an answer and he studies me carefully.
"You're spiraling"
"I'm Thinking"
"Same thing," he says gently.
He kneels, unwrapping fresh bandages.
The wounds protest sharply and I hiss.
He works carefully.
"You are not healing properly' He says. "The compound the used have suppressed your cellular regeneration. If you are injured again before recovery…"
He hesitates.
"It could be fatal."
The words land very heavily.
Immortality has never felt so fragile.
"So, you want me to just babysit from afar" I mutter.
"No, I want you to survive" I corrects softly. "And so, does Gabriel. He is just finding a hard time expressing it properly."
He finishes dressing the wound once he is done he takes a tiny bottle out of his pockets. And places it in my hand.
"Only use it when there is an emergency. It is a more concentrated dose of morphine. And yes, it is soluble so you don't have to worry about swallowing any pills."
I smile at him. "Thanks"
"We will bring her back" he says reassuringly.
I nod.
Because I need to believe that.
—————————
Later we regroup in the hall.
The gear was prepared and the weapons had been checked.
The room was thick with unspoken fear.
Gabriel Stands near the door, unshakable. His gaze settles on me briefly.
Finally.
"Do not be reckless," he says quietly. "Follow protocol. No improvisations."
A pause.
Softer this time, he says:
"… Stay alive."
It was not an order.
It was a plea disduised as one.
I nod. And together—
We step into the night.