The name Evee sparked fear in every man’s heart. It had been a week since River soldiers stepped foot in Rivermirror. While most were able to migrate from the infected area, tens of thousands of River citizens were absorbed into the aftermath. Their houses burned, their families burned, joining the infernal. It spread like a virus until it annihilated a quarter of River.

However, the city made a speedy recovery, restoring a makeshift balance. Despite the recovery, a lingering unease hung in the air like smoke that refused to dissipate.

“They’re always a step ahead… almost like they survey us. What am I missing?” Bleak muttered, jotting on his whiteboard. The squeaks of the marker echoed through the dimly lit, isolated room. His gaze drifted over the scattered notes, connecting fragments of information like pieces of a puzzle. “What are you thinking, Emily? Leaving River will only complicate your sentence.”

Bleak paused, his brow furrowed, as he connected the misplaced points. He recalled Daryl’s testimony about Hound seeing into the future. “I see! Perhaps your dark times spent in the underworld molded you.”

His voice sharpened as if speaking directly to an unseen adversary. “If my guess is right, then you can hear me, Hound. And perhaps you already know how I’m planning to go about reaching you. I want a meeting with the founder of the Seers. Help me organize that, and we will discuss… peace—no, coexistence.”

Three days passed by in the blink of an eye

“Stay still, this is the last one!” Emily screamed at Hound, holding a syringe containing the last piece of the liquefied symbiote, aiming for his eye. “You’re such a baby!”

After a long struggle, she managed to insert the needle. Hound stayed still, gritting his teeth in hopes it wouldn’t last long. She gently imbued the fluid and retracted the needle.

Keeping her distance as a safety measure, she asked, “How do you feel?”

He stood still, waiting for something to happen, but all he felt was the tiny puncture wound healing. “I feel like I just got my eye stabbed!”

“Anything else?” she asked, tilting her head with a teasing smirk.

“What am I supposed to—” His words cut off abruptly as his head began to pound. All the muscles in his body gave out, causing him to collapse onto the floor like a ragdoll.

Emily, her instinct for self-preservation kicking in, took a step back, creating further distance. “You okay there?” she asked cautiously, her voice trembling as she continued to walk backward. “You’re scaring me, Hound.”

Black flames engulfed his body, burning away every last shred of flesh, evaporating the fat beneath his skin, and charring muscle and bone. All that remained were his bones, eerily intact despite the destruction.

From his bones sprouted a black fluid—the symbiote. It moved and enveloped his skeleton, regenerating his flesh. The fluid coursed through his nerves and internal organs before finally reforming his skin. All the while, the flames burned intensely, melting the ground beneath him.

Suddenly, the weakened door burst open, barely hanging on its hinges. Bleak entered, armed to the teeth. Emily glanced at Hound, realizing he was still burning and unconscious. She grabbed a longsword from the nearby counter and stepped protectively in front of him.

“How did you find me?” she demanded, her voice steady but laced with tension.

“I know you, Emily. Top of your class every year. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that you’d break out of the tracker. That’s why I added my own tweak to it. But now I wonder: are the fairy tales you told Daryl and I true?”

Bleak’s steps carried the confidence of a predator stalking its prey. “I’ll be taking you in, and with you, the terrorist’s head.”

In a flash, his retractable claws sprang out of their compartments. He struck first, aiming directly for Hound. Emily blocked perfectly, but her lack of physical strength sent her reeling.

After regaining her balance, she swung the sword, feinting first before changing direction. The blade barely missed Bleak’s throat as he retreated. Her unwavering gaze locked onto his, her determination palpable.

Bleak raised an eyebrow, impressed. “They don’t teach this fighting style at the academy. You immobilize your opponent first and provide an opportunity for their surrender. Only if they refuse do you execute them. Or are you forgetting your lessons already?”

“I have a new instructor now,” Emily replied, shifting into an offensive stance. “And he says every strike should be a killing strike.”

Behind her, a series of cracks erupted. Hound’s body moved, each motion accompanied by the sound of snapping bones. He managed to rise into a slouched position. His eyes glowed a brilliant silver, his body fractured like molten rock. Emily darted to grab a gas mask from the counter as the room filled with unbearable heat and thick smoke. Flames flickered from his head like a crown, casting him as a devil risen from the depths.

“You speak of peace, yet your actions are that of war,” Hound’s voice roared, echoing through the shelter.

Bleak chuckled, unfazed. “I know your secret. If I don’t plan my future, it creates more variables for you, making me unpredictable.”

“And you’re willing to bet your life on a hunch?” Hound retorted.

The tension between them thickened as both men chuckled menacingly, their laughter blending with the crackling flames and suffocating smoke that consumed the room.