The silence was deafening.
I wish I could say I was shocked, but I wasn't. What Logan and Mitch had seen was horrific, yes, but not unfamiliar. Not to me. The others, though… they wore their emotions raw on their sleeves.
I let my eyes sweep the room. Nadia's smirk was gone. For once, her mask cracked just enough to show the anger burning beneath her calm exterior. Marcus stood stiff beside her, his brows drawn tight, a storm coiled in his expression.
Nicole shook with fury. Her hands were balled into fists until she caught sight of Mitch, his eyes still swollen from crying. She went to him, wordless, rubbing his arm the way you would a brother or son, grounding him.
Marcus and Nadia's people were a mix of fear and rage. A few whispered to each other, their faces pale and unsettled. My own group mirrored them—fragments of reactions scattered like glass.
Viktor and Sol… they showed nothing. Just blank stares. I expected that. Viktor had been my shadow in darker years, and together we'd seen humanity at its worst. Rape. Trafficking. Cannibalism. Children sold as soldiers. The list was endless, and it never lost its weight. He knew how to wall himself off from the horror.
Sol was different, though. Blank didn't mean untouched. It meant calculating. He'd come out of a North Korean lab where he'd been dosed, cut open, and molded into something the scientists thought they could own. When I tore him out of there, he was already broken into someone new—a sociopath who knew how to protect his own interests before anyone else's. He's my son, but I know exactly what he is. His connection with Karen still surprises me. But I've lived enough to know this: if it came down to survival, Sol would leave her without a second thought.
Nicole's team wasn't so steady. Jordan's lips pressed thin, his hands twitching as though looking for something to strike. Liam looked ready to explode. Giselle's face was pale, her jaw set hard, and Briar was openly furious.
Mitch's crew stayed close to him, their bond stitched from years of loyalty. Amber and Jesse were shaken, fear written across them, but they stayed near Mitch all the same, like the gang never left the streets.
And then there was Wei Shen's group. Lian's face was drained of all color, her lips trembling as though the tears wouldn't stop. Wei Shen leaned close, murmuring, trying to comfort, trying to convince her to go back to camp. She shook her head, violent in her refusal, wiping her tears with trembling hands before lifting her chin like she could will herself into stone.
I let the silence hang for another moment, heavy enough to smother the whispers. Then I drew in a slow breath and forced my voice steady.
"We've all heard enough to know what's waiting down there," I said. "And I'm not going to pretend it's anything less than hell. But hell doesn't mean impossible."
Dozens of eyes snapped back to me. Nadia is sharp and calculating. Marcus's, hard as stone. Nicole's fierce but steady now, a hand still on Mitch's arm. Even Lian, pale and trembling, held her gaze on me like I had the answer written on my skin.
I tapped the map spread out on the crate between us. "We have the numbers and recon confirmed that Nadia's intel is solid. We have a plan, and we just need to follow it."
Marcus's voice cut through the heavy quiet. "We're still wasting effort on them?"
Every head turned. He didn't flinch, didn't soften. "Those women. They've been tainted. You think dragging them out changes anything? Goblins already broke them. Most men would turn away. You know it. They're ruined. Most of them probably don't even want to live."
A ripple of disgust rolled across the room. The women's faces twisted first, sharp and cold. A few men shifted uneasily, muttering under their breath.
Nicole's jaw locked, her voice a low growl. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
Marcus met her eyes, calm as ice. "Exactly what I said. They're liabilities. Broken things. Saving them is sentiment, not survival. They'll just slow us down, screaming, bleeding, and most likely traumatized. It's better to let them stay where they are because who is going to take care of them after we get out? Not me."
Nadia's voice slid in before Nicole's fury could spill over. She didn't raise her tone, didn't blink. "We save them. We complete the mission. We gain the rewards. After that, whether they choose to live or not is their choice, not yours."
I stepped in before anyone else could pile on. My tone was steady, flat. "We save them. And if they decide they don't want to keep going, I'll be the one to end it. My hands. My blade. Not yours."
"I'll help," Viktor added from beside me, voice just as level.
The room went still. Dozens of eyes turned toward us like we'd just dropped glass into the fire.
One of Marcus's men scoffed, puffing himself up. "We've killed too. Don't act like you're special. We've had blood on our hands since this started."
Viktor's gaze shifted onto him, blank as winter sky. "Yeah? Have you ever killed helpless women? Children?" He leaned forward a little, the weight of his words pressing the man back. "Because it's not the same as gutting some bastard who came at you with a knife. It sticks. It strips pieces off you until there's nothing left but bone and habit."
The man's face paled, his mouth working but no words coming out. He looked away first.
Nicole's eyes flicked to me, sharp and searching, something raw behind them. An unspoken question—maybe for confirmation, maybe for denial. I couldn't give her either. Not here. Not now.
She knows what I am. What I've done. And what I still am. That's enough.
I forced the moment shut with a sharp tone. "We're not debating this anymore. We save them, and we finish the job. End of story. Get ready. We move now."
Marcus gave me a blank look before looking around and noticing no one was on his side.
"You heard the woman, let's move." He said, sighing.
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