Trevor's tracks cut through the forest floor like fresh scars.
The wolf hadn't looked back once—not after Apex shouted, "Trevor, no! Go home!"
Those ended up being Apex's final words before Hunter riddled him with pellets.
Apex wasn't supposed to die.
Not like that.
Not before he told me what happened to Rose.
If Apex could have stopped her death, he would have. I believed that.
I didn't come to kill him. I didn't even plan to lift a weapon against him.
But now he was gone, and all I had left was his wolf's trail.
Trevor led me deeper into the forest until he finally slowed near a small wooden cabin.
I stopped a few steps back.
The place was too quiet.
Too untouched.
It felt… staged. A picture pretending to be a home.
Trevor slipped into the trees, disappearing like smoke.
Apex had told him to go home.
So this cabin must have been what he meant.
Which meant something waited inside.
I was right.
A woman stepped out from the side of the cabin before I reached the porch.
She was scarred, steady and clearly a hater of mine.I could sense the rage behind her eyes.
She didn't attack immediately. That alone put me on alert.
"You're Victor Zefar," she said.
"I am," I answered. "Who are you?"
She raised her chin as if reciting a rank that still meant something.
"Geni. General of Oma. Wife of Yuda. And the last person Apex trusted to guard what mattered."
Her voice didn't shake once.
"I've waited a long time to meet you."
I exhaled. "Then you know I didn't come here looking for a fight."
"You don't get to choose," she snapped.
Before her attempt to kill me, I had three questions for her.
"When Yuda took her crown, did you get her treasures?
Were you the one who stole the hearts of her army?
Did you watch her die?
Geni dismissed my interrogation with cold precision.
"Today's not about Rose!"
She dashed towards me pulling out a blade meant for my heart.
For a heartbeat, I misjudged her.
She was faster than I expected—precise, relentless.
Her blade scraped sparks from my armor, and every strike forced me sideways.
Every pivot, every angle of her feet, every feint kept me away from the cabin door—yet always positioned to make me want to reach it.
She was funneling me.
She'd built this battlefield herself.
"What's inside that cabin?" I asked.
"Nothing for you," she shot back.
Her eyes… they weren't filled with rage.
They were filled with relief.
Relief that I had come.
Relief that she could avenge her fallen comrades.
Relief that made my stomach twist.
I caught her next swing, twisted her wrist, and shoved her down into the dirt.
She hit the ground hard—but she smiled.
Smiled.
No one smiled after being overpowered by me.
Something was wrong.
I rushed towards the cabin, reaching the door she had guarded so obsessively.
My boot landed on the wooden step.
Click.
My chest tightened.
"A trap," I breathed.
There was a bomb hidden beneath my feet.
The only thing stopping it was my foot still on the trigger.
Geni whispered, with a strange peace, "For Apex.For Yuda. For Oma!"
I looked at her and her wicked grin.
This bomb had a huge radius.
Did she know it would end her too?
"General, do you have no fear?"
She answered still elated, " I accepted death long ago. I only fear a life without impact."
Hearing those words I concluded nothing but pity for her.
"Then, Farewell Geni."
I rose my foot and the world detonated.
BOOOOM—
Flames tore through the cabin, swallowing wood, air, and sound. The explosion threw me backwards, heat hammering through my armor.
My ribs screamed. My vision blurred. The Veil of Glass shielded my face, but everything beneath it burned.
When I finally forced myself upright, the cabin was nothing but a blazing crater.
Geni was gone.
Not a body.
Not even a shadow.
Just drifting ash.
She had planned this.
She had accepted her fate before she ever met me.
Oh the irony!
She died thinking I would fall with her.
Was this her impact?
Was her needless death worth it, when I lived anyway.
I was destined to win in battle.
That was both my blessing and curse.
Pain clung to every breath as I steadied myself.
Through the waves of heat and drifting embers, something glinted in the distance—high above the forest floor.
A structure.
Hidden in the canopy.
Blended into the branches so well that without the glass mask filtering reflections, I never would have seen it.
A treehouse.
Apex's real home.
Of course the cabin was bait.
Of course Trevor was sent to mislead me.
Of course Apex had hidden what mattered far from reach.
I looked at the place where Geni had been, then at the structure above.
"You should've talked to me," I murmured.
"I would've listened."
But no one believed that.
I tightened what was left of my armor, dragged myself toward the nearest tree, and began to climb—burning, aching, alive.
Apex told Trevor to go home.
So now I would too.
And whatever waited at the top…
I hoped it carried the truth Apex died with.
The climb burned.
Every pull of my arms dragged heat down my shoulders, and every branch scraped the ash still clinging to my armor. The treehouse sat high above the forest like it was trying to hide from the world—and maybe it had.
Apex never built things carelessly. If he hid his real home in the canopy, it was because the ground itself wasn't safe.
When I reached the platform, I paused.
The place wasn't just hidden.
It was sealed.
Every window was covered from the inside, thick fabric pinned tight, letting not a single breath of light escape. It looked less like a home and more like a coffin someone chose to live in.
The Ravens noticed me first.
Black eyes glinted in the dimness as they perched across the roofline—silent, unblinking, waiting. Trevor's pack circled the bottom of the tree, pacing slowly, as if they expected me to fall… or jump.
This might've been another trap.
But I didn't care anymore.
If the truth about Rose was buried in the heart of hell, I would walk straight into the flames.
I pushed open the door.
The darkness swallowed me whole.
I stepped inside, slow and alert, letting my eyes adjust—but they didn't. Not enough. Sight was useless here. So I listened instead.
The creak of old wood beneath my boots.
My own breath echoing off the walls.
The faint flutter of wings outside.
Then—nothing.
A silence too perfect to be natural.
I pivoted just as something moved—fast, silent, too silent—lunging at me with a short blade aimed at my ribs.
Instinct took over.
I caught their wrist, twisted, and pulled.
The dagger became mine as I slammed the figure onto their back.
I threw the person across the room, putting distance between us.
Too light.
Too small.
Not a soldier's weight.
I ripped the cloth off the nearest window for a sliver of light.
The room brightened—just enough.
And there he was.
A child.
No older than ten.
My heart stopped cold.
No. No, no… not again.
Not a child soldier.
Not Lamech all over again.
Did Oma have no shame?
How many children had they handed blades to?
How many had they forced to kill?
The boy stared at me, chest rising and falling in terrified, silent bursts.
His dagger still laid in my hand.
The handle caught my eye.
A carved serpent—small, elegant, coiled around the grip like a piece of art.
Except it moved.
The snake's eyes flicked open.
Before I could react, it uncoiled and struck—fast as a lighting.
Its fangs dug into my finger, clamping down as I dropped the dagger.
Pain flared like a burning wire running up my arm.
I ripped the creature off with my other hand—hard enough to tear its body in two. Its fangs stayed buried deep in my flesh, pumping whatever venom it carried into my blood.
I crushed the thing under my heel and staggered back.
"What in hell is going on here?" I hissed through clenched teeth.
"And who the hell are you?"
The boy didn't answer.
He just stared with wide, glassy eyes…
Like he knew something I didn't.
Like he was waiting for the rest of the nightmare to begin.