A Devil’s Playground

Noah had faced plenty of dangerous opponents before.

Ryan Miller. Kai Dawson. Adrian Black.

But walking into Warehouse 12 didn't feel like stepping into a fight.

It felt like stepping into a trap.

The place was dimly lit, a mix of old industrial equipment and makeshift arena spaces scattered around. It smelled like sweat, rust, and something else—something metallic. Something like blood.

Noah had been in underground fight locations before. But this one?

It was different.

Darker.

Xander walked beside him, hands shoved in his pockets, looking as casual as ever. But Noah could tell he was on guard.

They weren't here to fight.

They were here to dig up the truth.

And if the rumors about Dante Rivera were even half true…

They might not walk out in one piece.

---

Welcome to the Jungle

A few fighters lingered around, watching them as they walked in.

Noah recognized some of them.

But most? They weren't students. They weren't amateurs.

These were seasoned fighters.

And they all had one thing in common—cold eyes.

Xander muttered under his breath. "I don't like this."

"Yeah," Noah said. "Me neither."

A man stood near the back, surrounded by a small group. He was older, mid-thirties maybe, wearing a black button-up with the sleeves rolled. His arms were covered in scars.

Dante Rivera.

The moment their eyes met, Noah felt it.

The same feeling he got when facing a dangerous opponent.

Except this time, it wasn't a test of strength.

It was a test of survival.

Dante smiled. "Well, well. If it isn't the rising star."

Noah didn't react. He kept his expression unreadable.

Xander, however, let out a short laugh. "Cut the act, Dante. We're not here for a welcome party."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "No? Then what brings you two to my little playground?"

Noah stepped forward. "Daniel Ross."

Silence.

The fighters nearby stopped talking.

Even the air felt heavier.

Dante's expression didn't change. But his eyes did.

He leaned back against a table. "Now that's a name I haven't heard in a while."

"Liar," Noah said flatly.

The corner of Dante's mouth twitched. "Bold of you to call me that. You sure you want to be starting fights in my house?"

Xander spoke before Noah could. "We're not here for a fight." His voice was calm, but firm. "We just want answers."

Dante studied them for a long moment.

Then, he chuckled. "Fine." He tilted his head. "Ask your questions. But I make no promises about answering."

Noah pulled out the old fight flyer and placed it on the table. "This was his last match. Against someone called The Reaper."

Dante didn't even look down. His gaze stayed locked onto Noah's.

And for the first time—there was something dangerous in his eyes.

"You don't want to be asking about The Reaper," he said softly.

"Why not?" Noah challenged.

Dante sighed. "Because people who do?" He tapped a finger against the table. "They disappear too."

The weight of those words settled like a stone in Noah's chest.

But he didn't back down. "Daniel left a message. He knew something was wrong before his fight. What happened to him?"

Dante exhaled, shaking his head. "What makes you think I know?"

"Because Warehouse 12 is your territory," Xander said. His voice was sharp now, cutting through the tension. "Nothing happens here without you knowing."

Dante was quiet for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he picked up the flyer.

His thumb ran across the edges.

"I don't know what happened to him after that fight," he finally said. "But I do know one thing."

Noah and Xander waited.

Dante looked at them, and when he spoke—

His voice was low.

Serious.

"If Daniel Ross lost that fight… then he never left this building."

The words hit like a hammer.

Noah's heartbeat picked up.

"Explain," he demanded.

Dante sighed. "There's an unspoken rule in the Underground."

He tossed the flyer back onto the table.

"Some fights don't end when the match is over."

A chill crawled up Noah's spine.

He understood immediately.

Daniel didn't just lose.

He was eliminated.

And not just from the tournament.

From everything.

Xander's expression darkened. "So you're saying—"

Dante cut him off. "I'm saying if he lost to The Reaper, then you're wasting your time looking for a missing person."

Because Daniel Ross wasn't missing.

He was dead.

---

A Cracking Mask

Noah took a slow breath.

Evelyn…

She still thought she could find her brother.

She still believed he was out there.

But if Dante was telling the truth—

He wasn't.

Noah clenched his fists. He hated this.

Hated the thought of looking her in the eyes and crushing that hope.

But there was one problem.

Dante said Daniel never left.

But if that was true—where was the body?

Noah's voice was low. "If he died here, where is he?"

Dante's expression didn't change.

But something about his body language did.

Just for a second.

Like he knew something else.

Something he wasn't saying.

Xander caught it too. "You're leaving something out."

Dante let out a slow exhale.

Then, finally—

He smirked.

"You two are smarter than you look."

Noah narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling us?"

Dante chuckled. "You want to know where the body went?"

He leaned forward.

"Ask The Collector."

Noah frowned. "Who the hell is The Collector?"

Dante's smirk widened.

"You'll find out soon enough."

---

Walking Away with More Questions

Noah and Xander left Warehouse 12 in silence.

The cold night air hit Noah's face, but it didn't clear his thoughts.

Xander let out a sharp breath. "So. We're dealing with a guy called The Reaper, a missing body, and now some mysterious Collector."

Noah nodded. "Yeah."

Xander shook his head. "You sure know how to pick your fights, Carter."

Noah didn't answer.

His mind was on Evelyn.

On what he would tell her.

On the realization that he might be digging himself into something even darker than he imagined.

And worst of all?

Some part of him knew—

This was only the beginning.

---