The door opens.

Navy’s laughter bursts into the room like something alive.

Tall, unassuming, almost too mocking for that place. She even bends forward, losing her balance slightly – the handcuffs prevent any more graceful gesture – and the sound echoes off the cold walls of the room, returning distorted, deeper.

Andy shifts in his chair, visibly uncomfortable. His foot taps the floor, too nervous to hide it. Jax remains motionless, his expression hard, his eyes fixed on her as if observing an active threat – or something worse: a mistake that should never have been made.

Malakai and Jay, on the other hand, hold the gaze without looking away.

“Holy shit…” Navy finally catches her breath, wiping away a tear that wells up in the corner of her eye. “Is this some kind of cosmic joke?” She tilts her head, analyzing the group. “Have we gone back a decade in time?”

“Nana…” Jay blurts out, his voice too low to hide his emotion. “It’s really you…”

Before anyone can stop him, he stands up. He ignores the creaking of the chair, ignores Jax’s murderous glare, ignores any sense of protocol. He strides across the room and wraps Navy in a tight, almost desperate hug.

She freezes for half a second, just enough time to recognize the gesture, and then relaxes.

“Hey, bear…” she smiles against his shoulder. “If you keep this up, I’m going to start crying.” She sighs. “And I’d love to hug you back, seriously, but…” She raises her handcuffed hands with difficulty.

“Jay, sit down.” Jax orders, his voice sharp.

Jay obeys, reluctantly, but not without casting one last knowing glance at Navy before returning to his seat.

She follows the movement with her eyes, her smile fading slightly.

“Still bossing everyone around, Jax?” he remarks casually. “I don’t miss that at all.”

“Navy…” Malakai calls, finally.

She turns her face to him slowly, as if preparing herself for something more difficult than prison.

“Kai.” She tilts her head, her lips curving into a softer, almost intimate smile. “Can I still call you that? Or did I lose that privilege when I officially became a murderer in the eyes of the people?”

Malakai shakes his head slightly, denying it.

“You never lost.”

For a moment, something passes through her gaze. It’s not quite pain. It’s deeper than that.

“How are you?” he asks.

Navy lets out a short, humorless laugh and walks to the table. She sits down facing them, pulling out her chair with her foot, as if she were arriving at a bar too old to judge her.

“That’s too complicated a question for a windowless room,” he replies. “But, in short? Alive. Which, in here, is already a miracle.”

She raises her arms and rests them on the table.

“Do you think you can get me out of this for a minute?”

“I’d love to,” Malakai replies automatically.

“No,” Jax growls, without even looking at him.

“…but we don’t have permission.” Malakai finishes, sighing.

Navy raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Hm.”

Then it happens.

A thick, silent black smoke billows around her wrists. There are no words, no exaggerated gestures – only intention. The handcuffs crack, the metal crumbles like wet ash, slipping through her fingers until it disappears into the floor.

“That’s good.” Navy massages her wrists, relieved. “Because I really didn’t have the patience to ask for permission.”

Jax jumps up.

“Navy, you don’t-”

“Sit down.” she says, without raising her voice.

And he sits down.

The silence that follows is heavy. Navy scans the faces one by one, assessing them, recognizing aged versions of old memories. Until her eyes stop on Andy.

Her smile changes.

“You…” she leans her body slightly forward.

Andy swallows hard.

“Me?”

She holds his gaze for too long. Her eyes darken for a moment, the irises subtly changing color, as if something were opening behind them.

“You should pay more attention to your mother.”

“What?” Andy asks, his voice faltering.

Navy reaches out and touches his fingers. The contact is brief, but too intense.

“She’s in the hospital,” she says calmly. “An anxiety attack that turned into something bigger because she’s pretending everything’s fine.” She tilts her head. “Chamomile tea helps. Really. She doesn’t need any more pharmaceutical drugs right now.”

“How did you-”

Andy doesn’t finish the sentence.

His body simply… vanishes.

There is no light, no noise. A blink of an eye later, the chair is empty.

“ANDY?!” Jay jumps up in a panic.

“Calm down,” Navy replies, too calmly. “I just sent him where he needed to be.”

Malakai closes his eyes for a second.

Jax stares at Navy as if he were looking at a ticking time bomb.

She crosses her arms on the table, her body too relaxed for someone who had just been handcuffed minutes before.

“And you, Kai…” Navy tilts her head, analyzing him as if he were a book to be read. “…have you finally accepted the family heritage?”

“More or less,” Malakai replies curtly, all too aware of the weight on his own wrist.

“Hm…” she leans forward, her gaze shifting between him and Jay, as if sensing something beyond what she can see. “Still out of control, huh?” she points with her chin to the navy blue bracelet. “It’s screaming from here.”

Malakai closes his jaw.

“Yes,” he admits. “But can we focus on why we’re here?”

“I’d love to,” Navy sighs, exaggeratedly. “But you brought too much spiritual trash with you.” She closes her eyes for a moment. “Restless souls. Noisy. Gives me a headache.”

Jax crosses his arms, impatient.

“Stop stalling.”

She ignores it.

“Silence helps organize thoughts,” Navy continued. “There’s a beautiful waterfall here on the island. Clean energy.” She smiled at Jay. “I bet you’d love to go there with Kai.”

“What?” Malakai frowns. “Navy, wait, look-”

She raises her hand in a simple gesture.

The air vibrates.

Jay and Malakai disappear as if they had never been there.

The room is too quiet.

Jax instinctively reaches for his gun.

“What did you do?!”

“Calm down,” Navy says calmly. “I just sent them to the waterfall. A refreshing dip in the water never killed anyone... at least not today.”

She crosses her arms again, leaning on the table.

“Now that it’s just the two of us…”

Jax remains standing, rigid, his dark eyes filled with rage.

“You didn’t have the right.”

“I always thought you liked it when I broke the rules,” she smiled slightly.

“You’re a criminal,” he growls. “A murderer.”

“Accused. No one has proven anything to this day,” Navy corrects, leaning forward. “I love it when you use that tone with me. That… authority suits you well.”

“Stop it,” Jax retorted.

“What a shame,” she says, making a fake pout. “I’ve thought about you a lot these past few years.”

“I didn’t think about you even once,” he lies, too quickly.

Navy raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Liar.”

Jax clenches his fists.

“Four victims. Dragons. Blood drained,” he fires back. “And you’re the only living person I know capable of doing something like that… and getting away unscathed.”

Her smile fades. It doesn’t disappear – it just loses its brightness.

“Ah,” she murmurs. “So that’s it.”

“You know more than you’re saying,” Jax continued. “And if you’re involved, I swear that-"

“You’re going to arrest me?” she interrupts calmly. “Or you’re going to finally kill me?” she tilts her head. “I confess I’ve always been curious to know which of the two options you would choose.”

The silence weighs heavily between them.

Then Navy rests her elbows on the table, moving close enough to invade his personal space.

“You need me because this isn’t the work of a human. Not even an ordinary wizard.” Her eyes darkened slightly. “Whoever is doing this is trying to become something greater.”

“And you expect me to trust you?” Jax asks, his voice low.

“No,” she replies sincerely. “I just hope you accept that, without me, you’ll be too late.”

She smiles again – provocative, dangerous.

“Now, Jax…” she slowly runs her finger along the edge of the table. “…are you going to keep looking at me like I’m a monster… or are you going to tell me exactly why and what you need me for?”

He holds their gaze. Neither of them blinks. The room seems smaller with the two of them there, as if the air has learned to hold its breath.

“We need you to analyze everything we have,” Jax says, his voice low, too controlled to be calm. “And tell us exactly who’s behind this, why... and how to stop this son of a bitch.”

Navy tilts his head, assessing him as one might weigh a dangerous proposition.

“And what do I get out of it?”

Jax lets out a short, humorless laugh.

“I won’t kill you.”

She raises her eyebrows.

“Ah,” she crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair. “So that’s your choice. To kill me.” Her smile is crooked, provocative. “How would you do it? A shot to the heart? To the head? Or something more… physical? More passionate?”

“Navy.” the name comes out as a warning.

“I’ve always liked how you say my name when you’re annoyed,” she remarks nonchalantly. “It even gives me a warm feeling.”

“Don’t mess with me,” Jax growled. “Not now.”

“I’m not kidding,” she replies, serious for a second. “I have conditions. If you fulfill them, I’ll help. I’ll become your…” she makes air quotes. “… personal police dog. How about that? I promise to only bite when you tell me to.”

“Coming from you, I doubt there is anything fair.”

“Oh, love…” Navy dramatically puts her hands to her chest. “That hurts my feelings.”

“Murderers have no feelings.”

Her smile falters – almost imperceptibly.

“If that’s really what you think…” she murmurs, and for a moment there’s something deeper there.

Jax stares at her. He thinks about the bodies, the forgotten locations, the drained blood. The stalled investigation. The fear he saw on Sage’s face.

“What are the conditions?” he finally asks.

Navy breaks into a slow, satisfied smile. Victorious.

“Parole,” she begins, counting on her fingers. “Served far away from here… maybe in my grandfather’s old house.” She tilts her head. “Access to my old bank account. A cell phone.”

She pauses, observing his reaction.

“And…” she adds casually, “…that we have lunch together every day. Or dinner. It doesn’t matter.”

Jax frowns.

“That’s not a condition. It’s a joke.”

“Not for me,” she retorted. “Eating alone is boring, it’s sad.”

“You’re messing with me again.”

“A little,” Navy admits, smiling. “But not entirely.”

He runs his hand over his face, annoyed.

“You want closeness.”

“I want a little control,” she corrects, leaning forward. “And so do you. You just pretend you don’t.”

Jax approaches the table, placing his hands on it, closing the distance between them.

“If you cross any line…”

“You’re killing me,” she finishes calmly. “I get that part.”

The two stare at each other, the tension thick, electric.

“You know who did this,” Jax says confidently. “Or at least you know what he wants.”

Her smile disappears completely.

“I know enough to say one thing,” Navy says quietly. “If you continue without me, more bodies will soon turn up. And it won’t be in some forgotten place.”

“Why?”

She holds his gaze.

“Because he’s becoming confident. And because the blood is just the beginning.”

Silence prevails once more.

Navy then leans back, relaxed again, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

“So, Jax…” she smiled. “Do you accept the deal or would you rather keep looking at me like you still want to pull the trigger?”

It takes a few seconds.

“You never leave my field of vision.”

“Perfect,” she replies, satisfied. “All I want is your attention.”