Alex stood still, his breath steadying as the reality of what he'd just heard sank in.
Varkov's voice had been clear—too clear.
He wasn't mistaken. That man had called his name.
Alex's eyes narrowed, locking on Varkov's lifeless face. The wide, frozen eyes still seemed to stare back at him.
'He knew me,' Alex thought. 'Or at least, he knew of me.'
He replayed the moment again in his head.
'Wait… if he knows the Wyndhams and Lucius… and now he knows my name, that means he's connected. Maybe not directly, but close enough to know what's happening inside their circle.'
He frowned, jaw tightening. 'But I've never seen him before. Not once. Not at the Wyndham mansion, not anywhere.'
Alex's gaze drifted from Varkov's fallen body to the rest of the room.
The place was eerily ordinary for a man who trafficked in dark arts.
A single desk stood near the center—sturdy, plain. A desktop computer hummed softly on top of it, next to a scattered pile of books and papers. Some of the pages were covered in strange symbols, others in neat, typed reports.
He scanned the walls.
No shelves. No hidden alcoves. No elaborate runes like the last hideout.
'I almost forgot this room was only meant for storing those weird skeletons,' Alex thought, scanning the place again.
Now, though, all those skeletons he had seen lined along the walls earlier were gone.
'He must have used them all to create that Class B undead knight,' Alex thought, frowning slightly.
Just then, a sharp beep came from the desk.
Alex froze for a moment, then walked toward it carefully.
The computer on top of the desk was powered off, but what caught his attention was an iPad lying beside it with its screen still lit.
The iPad showed only the lock screen, so Alex couldn't see what message had caused the alert.
Still, it drew his curiosity. He picked it up slowly.
'I can get someone from the base to unlock this,' he thought, holding the iPad firmly in his hand.
"Alex! What are you doing? It's time to get out of here!" a female voice shouted from behind.
He turned sharply. Gwen stood at the doorway of the office. Even though her suit was torn and she looked exhausted, Alex felt an overwhelming sense of relief seeing her alive.
Moments later, Tamsin and Merrick rushed in behind her.
Merrick didn't waste a second—he moved straight to Varkov's computer on the desk, his expression tense and focused.
He started storing everything away into his system space, his movements sharp and efficient.
Seeing that, Alex felt a small wave of relief. Good thing he had grabbed the iPad earlier — at least they had something to take back with them.
Meanwhile, Tamsin walked up beside him, her tone calm but firm.
"You've got a lot of explaining to do, Alex. But first, let's get out of this place," she said.
Alex gave a short nod. No arguments there.
The four of them moved fast, leaving the office and rushing through the damaged halls until they burst out of the mansion's front doors.
The moment Alex stepped outside, his senses went haywire. For a second, it almost felt like he'd been teleported somewhere else.
It wasn't the corpses scattered across the courtyard that made him feel that way. It was what was happening above.
Thunder roared across the sky, a deafening, rolling growl that shook the ground. Bolts of lightning rained down like furious spears, striking the base below one after another.
The flashes were endless—white, blinding light exploding against the snow and dirt, tearing chunks of earth apart with every impact.
From their spot on the cliff, the four of them could see everything.
"What the hell is going on? I thought the fight was over!" Alex shouted, his voice cutting through the wind.
"Come on! We have to get out of here, now!" Gwen yelled, panic cracking through her voice as another lightning bolt crashed nearby.
Merrick's voice cracked as he spoke, "We can't. Our portal's gone… destroyed by that Class B undead." His tone carried defeat, the kind that stung deeper than pain.
Gwen's knees hit the ground. Her hands trembled as she whispered, "Is this it? Are we going to die here?"
Alex stood frozen. He didn't understand what was happening—until a cold, robotic tone cut through his mind.
[Warning! Leave your location immediately. The presence of a divine being has been detected.]
'Shit…' Alex cursed inwardly, his chest tightening. 'A divine being? Here?'
He stepped forward, voice sharp. "We don't have to stand here and wait for them to come!"
But no one moved. Not Merrick. Not Tamsin. Not Gwen. They just stayed there, motionless—like the fight had already been drained out of them. Merrick and Tamsin slowly dropped beside Gwen, clutching her hands as if that could hold back the inevitable.
Alex's jaw tightened. His fists clenched until his knuckles went white.
'Why?' he thought bitterly. 'Why are people this strong giving up so easily?'
His gaze drifted to the storming sky above—lightning still cracking across the clouds like angry gods were tearing it apart.
Then, a calm but firm voice sliced through the chaos.
"None of you are dying today."
The four of them whipped around.
A tall man stood behind them. He had dark, curly hair that brushed his shoulders, and his black suit fit him like it was made for war, not business. No tie. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing pale skin that gleamed faintly in the lightning.
"Stan?" Alex called out, his voice uncertain, almost disbelieving.
The others froze. For a second, no one moved or breathed. It felt impossible—like their eyes were tricking them—but there he was. The one person they had prayed to see again stood right before them.
Stan.
A rush of relief broke through the tension like air after drowning. Gwen's eyes widened, and before anyone could stop her, she sprinted forward and wrapped her arms around him.
"It wasn't our fault…" Her words came out between shaky breaths. "We didn't mean to use our bloodline powers—it just happened so suddenly. We couldn't control it in time."
Her voice cracked. Tears rimmed her eyes as she pressed her face against him. With Stan's towering frame, her head barely reached his chest; it rested lightly against his stomach.
Stan sighed quietly and placed a steady hand on her head, patting it in that familiar, calm way that somehow made everything feel less terrifying.
"It's all right," he said softly. "I'm not angry that you used your powers."
He paused, glancing at the others, his voice turning firm. "I was planning on banning that restriction already."
"What?!"
The shout didn't come from one person—it came from several, echoing in confusion from every direction.
Alex spun around. So did the triplets.
Out from the broken shadows of nearby buildings stepped four figures—Peter's composed stare, Caspian's half-grin, Theron's silent intensity, and Cressida's motherly but sharp gaze.
Almost the entire top leadership of Dragon Roar stood before them.