The rain hammered against the windshield, sharp as needles. Jayla drove with the precision of someone who refused mistakes, but I couldn’t relax. Every shadow along the road seemed wrong—too deep, too still. The kind of shadow that watches, waits. I kept my hand hovering near the edge of the seat, knuckles tight.

Jakari sat to my right, shoulders tense, eyes scanning the road even though he wasn’t driving. Asia leaned back, M4 resting on her lap, eyes flicking to every reflective surface as if she could see movement I couldn’t. Lina hunched over her sketchpad in the back, lines racing across the page. I couldn’t tell if she was drawing the road or something we’d never see. Jayla’s grip on the wheel was like a vice—a quiet rhythm keeping us alive.

I hated feeling small, even though I was supposed to be the “strength.” There were forces in motion I couldn’t touch, couldn’t block with armor, shields, or even my own axe.

The man Jakari had sent back… his body half-destroyed, yet alive long enough to deliver a message. One arm gone, bleeding from every orifice, crawling like a warning from the edge of hell. Whoever—or whatever—did that was coming for us. And it wasn’t the end. It would only escalate.

“Stay sharp,” Jakari muttered, almost to himself, eyes fixed ahead.

I nodded, though he didn’t see. My gut said he wasn’t ready for what awaited us—not fully. None of us were.

The car dipped over a low rise, and the house came into view before Jayla slowed. Old wood, sprawling, as if it had grown from the earth itself. The forest pressed close, dark and impenetrable, but a single lantern flickered, waiting.

Evelyn Crowe didn’t meet us at the door. She didn’t need to. Her presence filled the space before her body even appeared. We could feel it in our bones.

Lina froze beside me, fingers curling around her sketchpad. I felt her tension spread to the rest of us. Even Jayla, who prided herself on seeing everything, was quiet, calculating.

When Evelyn opened the door, she said nothing, not even hello. She stepped aside. Lina didn’t move first, hesitating.

“Grandmother…” Lina’s voice was soft, reverent, tinged with fear.

“You’re late,” Evelyn said, not angry, just certain.

“I… I didn’t think you’d recognize me right away,” Lina whispered.

Evelyn’s lips curved faintly. “Recognize you? Child, I’ve known you longer than you’ve been alive. You think you can hide your soul from me?”

Lina stiffened. I’d seen her calm in terrifying situations, but here she seemed small. Almost human.

“I—” Lina stopped, pencil hovering mid-air. “I need answers. The drawings, the visions… I don’t understand them. I—”

“Sit,” Evelyn interrupted, gesturing to a chair that seemed to appear from nowhere. “Breathe. Your mind races too fast. That is why the visions are fragmented.”

Lina obeyed, hands trembling slightly in her lap. Evelyn studied her like she weighed the air around her. “Your gifts are growing, Lina. Stronger than anyone in our line. You feel too much, too soon. These sketches—they are not warnings. They are keys. But keys without context are meaningless. That is why you are here.”

Lina whispered, “And… you’ll help me understand?”

Evelyn’s eyes sharpened, lightning through fog. “I will guide you. But guidance carries a price. Every step toward understanding exposes you. Forces will notice. You are not safe merely by surviving. You are dangerous.”

The air thickened; shadows bent toward Lina’s faint aura.

“Grandmother,” Jayla finally said, stepping forward and interrupting. She held out the drawings Lina had worked on all trip. “We thought these might help… they’re relevant.”

Lina’s hand shot out, but Evelyn accepted the papers. Fingers tracing lines like reading pulses of the world. Her calm face flickered with something—fear, recognition, or both.

“These… aren’t just drawings,” she said softly. “These are warrants.”

Her gaze locked on Jakari. “He’s coming.”

The room froze. Even the rain seemed to pause. Asia’s fingers tightened on her katana. Jayla’s hands curled into fists. Lina’s pencil hovered mid-air.

“The Last Warrant is not a man,” Evelyn said, voice slicing the air. “He is a force carried by the world when laws fail. He hunts by permissions—knows every line of a life marked for correction. The world calls him Azrathion.

“You think you can fight him with fire, steel, or bullets? No. He exists beyond armies, beyond nations, beyond reckoning. Before kingdoms rose, before bloodlines split, he enforced the balance.

“And you,” she said, voice cold as obsidian, “are on his path. He is coming not because you are strong or clever, but because you exist. Every move you’ve made has led him closer.”

Her eyes swept the room, lingering on each of us before returning to Jakari. “You cannot bargain. You cannot hide. And yet… this war can be won. But not by courage alone. It will cost everything. Even then… there is no guarantee.”

The weight pressed on my chest. Jakari stiffened. Asia tensed. Jayla’s jaw clenched. Lina straightened, defiance and fear mingling in her eyes.

Evelyn’s voice softened, but each word cut like a blade. “You can survive… but only if you leave Jakari behind.”

Silence. Chains wrapped around our chests.

“These are my friends,” Lina said firmly, stepping forward. “I will not give him up.”

Asia moved beside her. Jayla clenched her hands. I felt the tension settle like coals in my chest. Jakari looked at me, then back at Evelyn.

“The choice is yours,” she said. “This war has consequences none of you can imagine.”

I met Jakari’s eyes. “I got you,” I said quietly. His shoulders eased for the first time since we arrived.

“I need you,” he said.

“I know,” I replied.

It wasn’t words. It was brotherhood. A promise: if we fall, we fall together.

The warehouse smelled of rust, oil, and metal. Jayla’s eyes lit up. “This is perfect,” she said, grinning. “We can turn this place into anything we need.”

I hefted a crate onto my shoulder. Jayla worked immediately on my armor, welding, measuring, calibrating the shield’s force field. Lina moved silently, tracing sigils in the air, shadows bending toward her hands. Asia sharpened blades, checking every edge. Jakari cleaned his weapons, eyes scanning the warehouse like a predator.

We ran drills as a unit. Asia and Jakari led assault movements, but everyone contributed:

• Lina shifted shadows, subtly manipulating the battlefield.
• Jayla covered blind spots and dropped supplies with pinpoint timing.
• I moved as the wall, swinging my axe and testing the force field.

Every action triggered reactions in another member. We were not five individuals. We were one unit.

When we paused, breathing heavy, we circled the warehouse center.

“We’re stronger together,” Lina said softly.

Asia added, “Trust is what makes us lethal. Watch one falter—the rest adapt. That’s survival.”

Jakari’s gaze swept over us. “We are one unit. Every action fits the plan. Stay together. No one left behind.”

Jayla smiled. “We have each other. That’s all that matters.”

I put my hand in the center. “I got all of you.”

The others followed. Shadows curled toward Lina’s magic, protective. Lightning flashed outside. Whatever came for us would face all of us. Together.

Later, the group scattered to tasks. I found Jakari leaning against a crate, distant, eyes shadowed.

“Jakari…” I said softly.

He didn’t look up. “What is it?”

“I… I want to understand. Kylee. Her death… what it means to you.”

His gaze snapped to me, cold. “You think tears or questions will change what happened?”

I swallowed. “No… I just… don’t know how you keep going.”

His expression softened briefly, then hardened again. “You learn, Kelo. Stop clinging to softness. Her death will be avenged. We fight for her—but this war doesn’t forgive weakness.”

A tear burned behind my eye. “I… understand.”

“Good. You’ll need that understanding. You’re not just carrying an axe. You’re carrying me. Carry the mission, or don’t show up.”

I nodded. His words were cold, but they fueled something inside me.

“Then stay ready. Kylee’s death will be repaid. No mercy. No hesitation. That is how we fight.”

I understood. Not just the fight… the path Jakari walked. Cold. Relentless. Unflinching. A truth I was starting to follow.