30

If you stay silent for what is wrong,

you won’t be able to stand for what is right.

If misery possessed a name.

The Earth would remember Khalani Kanes.

The crumbling walls of her home were built upon grief. The uneven floors were scattered with heartbreak. And the patchy ceiling had been battered by disaster.

Behind bars, she’d fought to redefine her destiny. She wanted her story shaped not by suffering, but by her quiet lessons in forgiveness, love, and a monstrous will to defy death.

But no matter which direction she ran or how tightly she shut her eyes, ruin refused to let her escape its clutches.

Khalani’s head rolled, and her heavy eyelids stirred.

Everything hurt.

Pain was as constant as the oxygen surrounding her. She inhaled the coarse despair and sobbed softly.

Khalani lost track of how long she’d been tortured. Her arms and legs had been dissected like flayed meat by the time she blissfully passed out.

The cruelest surprise was when she first woke to find that her limbs had no deep cuts or evidence of mutilation. Her skin was smooth, almost perfect. Like the torture was only a figment of her imagination.

The first time Dr. Strauss carved illustrations into her skin like a kid with a demented crayon collection, he told her that Hermes developed a serum capable of healing wounds at a rapid rate.

So, he continued cutting her skin away, layer by layer, until all that remained were her brittle bones. And when she passed out, he’d simply wait for her to awaken, only to start all over again.

Seconds felt like weeks. Hours transitioned to decades.

She stopped talking long ago. Whenever she begged him to stop, Dr. Strauss merely grinned and dug the scalpel deeper into her skin.

Seth, the other doctor, stood nearby, his eyes fixed on a screen displaying strange, curved lines, as he adjusted the nodes attached to her temples and the back of her head. He remained stone-faced, even as she screamed so hard that her voice cracked, and all that escaped her mouth was a silent wave of agony.

There had to be peace. Reprieve.

But not even sleep kept her in its protective embrace.

Her eyes moved behind her eyelids as the sound of shuffling feet approached.

“Looks like our pretty subject is awake.”

No.

No!

Just let me die.

Khalani shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks as Dr. Strauss appeared above her, holding one of his sharp, bloody instruments. She trembled as he lowered the scalpel to her knee, her body bracing for the impending agony.

BOOM.

The whole building shook and several instruments fell off the tray.

“What was that?” Seth asked, frantically looking around.

Dr. Strauss put down the instrument and snapped off his blue gloves, rushing out of the room. But Khalani’s body still quaked.

In the back of her mind, it felt like she was waiting for something…or someone. But she had a hard time recalling who.

Losing her memory. Her identity…

Your name is Khalani. Your name is Khalani.

She repeated the phrase, fighting to remember who she once was.

When the terrifying sound of Dr. Strauss’ footsteps returned, her shaking intensified into full-blown tremors. She bit her lip so hard that blood painted her teeth.

“The rebels have broken into the camp,” Dr. Strauss snarled, rushing to the computers. “Activate the remaining subjects.”

Seth paled. “But, sir! They’re not ready.”

“Do it!”

Seth jolted and scrambled to a keyboard, typing furiously.

It sounded like water boiling behind her.

Khalani managed to tilt her head ever so slightly and found the pods the prisoners were floating in were slowly being drained of whatever blue liquid was inside them.

Her muscles shook as the glass casings opened and the prisoners stepped out, completely naked.

They stood like statues, eyes vacant, droplets of water tracing down their skin, pooling on the floor.

“What are your orders?” Seth asked, gulping as his eyes darted to the motionless bodies.

“Have them attack the rebels.” Dr. Strauss’ focus remained locked on the computer screen.

Seth turned, swallowing nervously. “But what about—”

He jolted, blood seeping out of his mouth. Her eyes widened as Seth collapsed to the floor, a massive knife protruding from his back.

A broader figure stepped through the doorway.

The dim lights above flickered, casting brief flashes of light across the intruder’s bloody face and white uniform.

“Takeshi,” she whispered, his name returning to her like an answered prayer.

His dark eyes locked onto Khalani strapped to the gurney, and the energy was sucked out of the room.

In an instant, Takeshi wrenched the knife out of Seth’s back and rushed to her side, sawing through her bindings.

It was only then that she noticed the tremor in his hands. His cold eyes roved over her body, searching for injuries.

Physically, he wouldn’t find any, thanks to the advanced medicine she’d been continuously administered. But her mind…

“I’m so sorry, Khalani. I came as fast as I could.” His expression was broken beyond repair as he looked down on her.

But all that repeated through her sluggish brain was one thing.

He came for her.

He didn’t abandon her like she’d nearly given up on herself.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and Takeshi tensed, watching it fall. His jaw clenched as he ferociously cut through the last bindings when a figure punched him in the head, knocking Takeshi off his feet.

Her mouth fell open as the gun hidden in Takeshi’s pocket flew across the floor.

“Takeshi!” she shouted as one of the expressionless prisoners from the pod charged him. Takeshi flipped to his feet and quickly brandished the knife, meeting his attacker head-on.

The prisoner was fast—faster than humanly possible—easily dodging every strike.

Khalani gnashed her teeth, trying to wriggle free from the final binding holding her to the gurney. More punches and heavy hits echoed around the cold lab, and she yelled as she broke through the last restraint and stood on shaky feet.

The symphony in her chest raced to a cataclysmic crescendo as Takeshi grunted, wrestling with his attacker on the ground.

She bolted for the gun, snatched it up, and aimed at the prisoner Takeshi was fighting.

But she hesitated.

The prisoner might have family back in Hermes who loved him. There still might be a part of him deep inside, pounding against the cages of his mind, begging to be let free.

But Khalani steeled herself, her finger tightening around the trigger.

To protect those she cared for, she’d do whatever it took.

The problem was, Takeshi and the prisoner’s bodies were rolling, centimeters away from one another. She wasn’t as good a shot as Brock and there was a high risk her bullet would hit Takeshi instead.

The prisoner slammed his fist into Takeshi’s face again, like a boulder slamming down, and Takeshi coughed up blood.

Think, Khalani.

Think!

Dr. Strauss was on the far side of the lab, frantically typing away on his computer. The other prisoners stood motionless, like lifeless puppets.

But with another rapid flurry across the keyboard, their blank expressions shifted. One by one, they slowly turned their heads toward Takeshi.

And they began to march forward.

Takeshi was already struggling with one of Dr. Strauss’ creations. How would he be able to handle five?

He couldn’t.

Her hands trembled around the pistol as the other prisoners got closer, their sole focus on Takeshi.

She raised her gun and without hesitation pulled the trigger. Sparks flew at the end of the room, and Dr. Strauss leaped back.

Her heart sank when she realized her bullet hadn’t struck him at all.

Instead, it hit his computer.

The prisoners continued advancing, but something strange happened. They stuttered in their steps, each one pausing intermittently as their heads twitched.

Takeshi seized the opportunity and stabbed the prisoner on top of him in the throat. He twisted the knife, ripping out a chunk of the man’s jugular. The prisoner toppled to the ground, still reaching for Takeshi, like he needed to complete his orders, even in that ruined state.

Takeshi rose, slower than usual, his chest heaving. The remaining prisoners kept advancing, despite their limbs convulsing uncontrollably.

The creepy vision would supply her nightmares forever.

She raised the gun once more, shooting the prisoner on the far right. The bullet struck him in the shoulder, and the prisoner staggered, but he didn’t make a sound of pain or even flinch. He continued advancing forward, ignoring the blood leaking from his shoulder.

“Takeshi! We need to go!”

Takeshi’s fist tightened as his turbulent gaze fixed on Dr. Strauss, but the prisoners closed in, blocking their view.

“Takeshi, please!” Her voice broke, and that made Takeshi run back to her. He took the gun and wrapped a protective arm around her.

“Let’s go.”

They sprinted out of the lab and into the reception area.

The woman from before sat motionless at the desk. Khalani spared her only a brief glance, noticing her mouth hanging open and a gaping bullet hole through the center of her forehead. Without a second thought, Khalani looked away, refusing to waste even a moment of sympathy on the cruel woman.

She had heard Khalani screaming but didn’t say anything. Didn’t protest. Only came in once to ask Dr. Strauss if he would like some coffee.

Silence is support.

They burst out of the black building, and Khalani took a deep breath, nearly crumpling from the torture she’d endured. But Takeshi held her upright, his arms tightening around her waist.

“I’m going to get us out of here,” he promised, his eyes burning with conviction. She nodded, drawing from his strength as chaos erupted around them.

Gunshots and screams rang out as lines of Dealers charged forward, firing at the Aces who retreated toward the tunnel entrance. About twenty stood firm, and Khalani’s pulse raced as she noticed several bodies lying motionless on the ground.

She recognized Spade, Raziel, and a few men from the Black Heart helping Jack and Ryder as they limped toward safety.

Relief flooded her when she spotted Elise and several other prisoners flanking the cavern, dodging bullets as they made their way to the tunnel.

Tears streamed down Elise’s face, and Khalani’s eyes widened.

Where was her father?

But then, someone else came into view.

“Brock!”

“There they are!” Brock screamed, turning to Takeshi and Khalani as they raced forward. Brock fired at another Dealer, hitting him squarely in the chest. More shots rained down and everyone ducked.

“We’re too outnumbered. Prepare to seal the tunnels!” Spade waved his arm, and everyone began retreating.

Takeshi pushed Khalani ahead, covering her back.

“Keep going,” he commanded. “Don’t stop, Kanes.”

Brock ran alongside her, glancing at her—and even Takeshi—with relief. He had deep lines under his eyes, as if he’d been nonstop worrying the entire week. Shots fired behind them, some zipping dangerously close.

One hundred feet ahead, dozens of empty transports waited.

“Go! Go! Go!” Spade yelled.

Half of the survivors scrambled into the vehicles, engines roaring to life as they sped off into the distance.

“Get ready to fire!” Raziel gestured to a man standing nearby with a metal device in his hands.

They were almost to the tunnel when another flurry of gunshots thundered out. Khalani ducked her head, still running furiously, when a deafening roar rang behind her, followed by a heavy crash.

Khalani stopped and turned.

Her body froze as Takeshi collapsed to the ground, a puddle of blood pooling across his back.

It felt as if time had come to a standstill. Each bullet suspended in midair. The terrifying screams faded into silence.

No.

Not Takeshi.

Not fucking Takeshi.

Takeshi lifted his head and searched for her, his gaze filled with longing.

As if she were the only thing he ever wanted to see in the world.

“Go,” he mouthed.

Like hell.

Khalani ran back for him, but Brock snatched her around the waist, lifting her off the ground.

“No! Get off me! We need to get him!”

She kicked and screamed, fighting him with all her might. Twisting her head, she saw the remaining Dealers rushing the tunnel. Running toward Takeshi, who struggled to rise, but his large body collapsed back to the ground.

“Brock, go back! We have to save him!” she cried, but Brock squeezed her tighter, his strong arms carrying her toward one of the empty transports.

“I’m sorry, Khalani. We can’t save him.” His voice was more distressed than she’d ever heard. But it didn’t matter.

What mattered was the man who knew her better than anyone else in the world—the man who had helped her find her strength, who pushed her when she needed it and embraced her dark heart, was just beyond her reach.

Khalani continued to thrash and fight against Brock like a feral monster.

A world without Takeshi was a living prison she didn’t want to survive in.

“Go fucking back! Please go back!!”

She refused to accept it. Khalani would gladly return to the black building and endure a million more torturous sessions if it meant Takeshi was safe.

Her furious screams continued to bounce around them, but everyone ignored her.

Brock carried her struggling body past the tunnel entrance, and Raziel nodded to the man with the device. He clicked a button, and the entrance shook.

An explosion rang out and rocks tumbled down, sealing the tunnel.

“NO!!”

Tears of agony streamed down her face as she was loaded into the transport. Her last glimpse was of the Dealers surrounding Takeshi, guns raised, while he lay unconscious on the ground.

Rocks blocked her blurry vision, and it felt like her heart stopped beating. Like her body couldn’t handle the pain and shut everything down.

Because the last thing she heard before the transport sped off into the dark abyss…was the fatal sound of a final gunshot.