Chapter 11 - THE SILENCER

Zenithar – Industrial Sector – Underground tunnel

7 December, 1077 – 04:25 AM

The underground tunnel was deathly quiet.

Liara adjusted the grip on her rifle, her fingers curled tightly around the stock.

The others waited in silence, crouched behind rusted support beams and half-collapsed walls, their eyes fixed on the tunnel's exit above. The plan had gone smoothly so far—too smoothly.

She hated that feeling.

Hanna sat beside her, rolling her shoulders. "Convoy should be here in less than a minute."

Kian let out a slow breath, shifting his weight. "Anyone else feel like something's off?"

One of the younger fighters, Rook, exhaled sharply. "Not now, Kian."

"No, seriously." Kian frowned. "We haven't seen any resistance since we got into position. Shouldn't there be, like, at least a few patrols?"

Liara didn't answer immediately.

She had noticed it too.

The military was careful, but they weren't ghosts. Even in disarray, they should have at least heard something by now—panicked orders, repositioning squads, distress signals.

Instead—nothing.

Liara pressed two fingers to her earpiece. "Garret, status?"

A pause. Then Garret's voice crackled through. "Southern sector is clear. Kael and Allen are securing the factory perimeter."

Liara hesitated. "And the convoy?"

Garret's voice stayed steady. "ETA thirty seconds. Stand by for detonation."

Liara exhaled, nodding to Hanna. "Alright, everyone get ready. Soon as we blow the escort vehicles, we take out the remaining soldiers and move the cargo."

The squad tensed.

Hanna checked her sidearm, then flashed a grin. "Easy job, right?"

Liara smirked. "You always jinx it when you say that."

A low rumble vibrated through the tunnel. The sound of engines.

They were here.

Liara clicked her comm. "Convoy in position. Awaiting the signal."

Then—

Garret's voice exploded through the channel.

"LIARA! DON'T GET OUT—"

Static.

Liara's blood turned to ice.

"What?" Hanna's brow furrowed. "What did he just say—?"

Then—a flicker of movement.

A shadow in the tunnel.

Before anyone could react—

Rook, the man at the detonator, jerked violently.

His body seized—then collapsed, a gurgling sound escaping his lips as his rifle slipped from his hands.

His throat was gone.

Silence.

Then—

"CONTACT!"

Hanna's voice shattered the moment.

Gunfire erupted, the enclosed tunnel flashing with the violent bursts of muzzle fire. The Resistance fighters unloaded everything, rounds streaking through the darkness, slamming into the spot where the figure had been.

Nothing.

Then—he was among them.

A blur of movement, too fast to track.

A fist drove into a soldier's gut.

Armor cracked under the force, sending the man airborne—he hit the tunnel wall with a sickening thud before collapsing motionless.

A knife flashed.

Another soldier gasped, his body stiffening—his rifle clattered to the floor as his throat split open, a deep, precise cut severing his windpipe.

Hanna lunged.

She was fast—one of the fastest in the Resistance.

Her blade sliced toward his ribs—

But he was already gone.

He twisted effortlessly, ducking under her strike before pivoting behind her.

Hanna's eyes widened.

A foot slammed into her spine.

She barely had time to react before she was sent flying into two of her own men, all three tumbling into the dirt.

Kian cursed, stepping forward—

Too late.

The enemy was already on him.

Kian barely saw the strike before it landed.

A palm struck his chest.

A heartbeat later—

His ribcage shattered inward.

Kian choked, blood spurting from his lips as he staggered back—his body gave out before he even registered the pain.

Liara's pulse pounded in her skull.

He's stronger than Raiga.

The thought made her breath hitch. No. Not stronger—just as fast. Just as deadly.

That meant there was no winning this.

"HANNA! FALL BACK!" she shouted.

Hanna gritted her teeth, scrambling to her feet. "You don't have to tell me twice!"

But the moment they tried to regroup—

He was there.

Cutting them down one by one.

A rifle was raised—he stepped into the shooter's blind spot, grabbing the barrel and twisting it backward. A single, precise elbow strike shattered the man's jaw. Before the body even hit the floor, he was already moving again.

Another soldier aimed—his knife flashed.

The soldier's throat opened like paper.

One by one, they fell.

Blood splattered the tunnel walls, bodies crumpling as the enemy dismantled their entire force with inhuman efficiency.

Then—Liara saw it.

Hanna, Kian, and two others were trying to flank him. This was their chance.

"NOW!" Hanna shouted.

Two Resistance fighters rushed him from behind, rifles raised.

The enemy paused.

Then—his body rippled.

A dense, dark mist exploded from his form, twisting unnaturally, coiling around him before expanding outward like living smoke.

Liara's breath froze in her throat.

The moment the mist touched the two fighters—

Their flesh dissolved.

Screams tore through the tunnel as their skin and bone turned to dust, their bodies evaporating into nothingness.

Liara's heart stopped.

Hanna's hands trembled. "What the hell…?"

The enemy exhaled, his body reforming from the mist, his golden eyes gleaming with cold amusement.

"I was hoping you'd last longer," he murmured.

Hanna fired immediately.

The bullet passed through him.

He was mist again.

Then—he was behind her.

Hanna's eyes widened.

A palm slammed into her stomach.

Her body crumpled inward, ribs shattering, blood spraying from her lips.

She collapsed to her knees, gasping—

The enemy raised his hand for the finishing blow.

Liara moved.

She lunged forward, firing her pistol point-blank at his skull.

He shifted just enough for the bullet to graze his cheek.

The moment of distraction was all she needed.

She grabbed Hanna by the collar and threw her toward the truck.

"GO!"

Hanna coughed, barely able to move. "L-Liara—"

"JUST RUN!"

Liara fired another shot—not to kill, just to delay.

The enemy tilted his head, amused.

Then he raised his pistol.

BANG.

Pain exploded in Liara's thigh.

She hit the ground.

Blood soaked through her pants, warm and slick, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. She forced herself up, teeth clenched against the searing pain in her leg.

Hanna was already moving, dragging herself toward the vehicle—Their only way out.

Liara stumbled after her, her vision swimming. Behind them, the tunnel was painted in blood, bodies strewn across the cold concrete, the last screams of their squad still ringing in her ears.

Gone. They were all gone.

The enemy didn't follow.

He didn't need to.

He stood at the center of the carnage, bathed in the crimson mist of his own power, watching them with that eerie, golden-eyed gaze. Unbothered. Unhurried.

Like this had all been expected.

Liara's stomach twisted.

Hanna reached the transport first, throwing herself into the driver's seat with shaking hands. The engine roared to life, the vibrations rattling through Liara's bones as she forced her body forward, half-running, half-limping.

The enemy tilted his head.

He raised his pistol.

Liara barely saw the flash before—

BANG.

Pain. A second shot—this time to her calf.

Her knee buckled, and she collapsed onto the transport's side, gripping the handle with bloodied fingers. Her vision blurred, breath ragged.

Hanna reached across the seat, grabbed her by the collar, and yanked her inside.

The moment Liara's feet left the ground, Hanna slammed the accelerator.

The transport lurched forward, tires screeching against the tunnel floor as they tore through the underground passageway, leaving the massacre behind.

Liara gasped, her head hitting the dashboard as she clutched her bleeding leg. She forced herself up, turning just enough to glance at the shrinking figure behind them.

He was still standing there.

Still smiling.

He lifted a hand—not in anger. Not in pursuit.

In farewell.

And then—

A voice. Smooth. Playful. Sickeningly calm.

"Run, little girl."

Liara's pulse pounded in her skull.

He was letting her go.

Not out of mercy. Not out of arrogance.

Because he already knew exactly where she was going.

Her fingers curled into fists.

Hanna's voice was tight, breathless. "What the hell is he—?"

"Drive." Liara's voice was sharper than she intended. "Don't stop."

The transport roared forward, tires carving through the underground tunnel, speeding toward the only hope they had left.

———————————————

Zenithar – Industrial Sector – 05:02 AM

The military vehicle roared through the ruins, its tires skidding against the cracked pavement. The city was eerily silent, the distant echoes of battle long faded. Only the low hum of the engine and the ragged breathing of the two men inside filled the air.

Garret gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. His shoulders were rigid, his mind a storm of guilt and loss. His entire body ached—not from wounds, but from the crushing weight of failure.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Raiga sat slumped in the passenger seat, his body barely held together by sheer will. His left arm was useless, the wound in his shoulder still bleeding sluggishly. Every breath was a battle. His ribs screamed, his vision swam, and his skin was pale with blood loss.

But his mind was fixated on one thing.

Liara.

He forced his head up, his blue eyes burning despite the pain. "She's there."

Garret flicked a glance at him, his jaw tightening.

He didn't ask how Raiga knew. He didn't have to.

He simply pressed the accelerator.

Then—

Raiga's breath hitched. His fingers twitched weakly against his thigh.

Garret frowned. "Raiga?"

No answer.

His head lolled to the side. His chest barely moved.

Garret's pulse spiked.

"Raiga."

Still nothing.

Then he saw it—the blood pooling beneath the seat.

The wound hadn't stopped bleeding.

Raiga wasn't just injured. He was fading.

Garret's stomach twisted.

If they didn't get there now—if they didn't stop the bleeding—Raiga wouldn't live to see the sunrise.

Garret's jaw clenched, his foot slamming the pedal down.

The hideout was close.

But was it close enough?