Chapter 17: The Fire That Grieves
The world had changed in just one hour. One bullet. One breath.
Elira stood before Luka's grave, the wind whipping through the cemetery just outside the safe house. The cold didn't bother her—nothing did anymore. She had buried many things in her life. Her past. Her innocence. Her trust.
But this? This was different.
She was burying her heart.
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A Quiet Funeral
Only five people stood with her: Ares, Noah, Soren, Juno, and the medic team who had tried in vain to save Luka's life. His casket was simple—black metal with a single white lily resting atop it.
"Elira," Ares whispered, voice rough. "Do you want to say something?"
She stared at the coffin. Her lips trembled, but she didn't cry.
"Luka hated silence," she finally said. "He filled every room with noise, even when it was annoying."
A sad chuckle escaped Noah's lips.
"He wasn't my blood. But he fought for me more than anyone who was. And I didn't say thank you enough."
She placed her hand on the coffin.
"I'll make it right."
Then she turned and walked away, leaving the others behind.
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The Decision
That night, Elira sat in the darkened war room, staring at the files Luka had left behind. Dozens of notes, maps, data fragments—all pointing to one location: a facility buried deep beneath the Arctic ice, codenamed Project Obsidian.
Crane's final stronghold. The birthplace of something worse.
Ares entered the room, his shoulder still bandaged from the last fight.
"You sure you're ready for this?"
"I'm past ready," Elira said, her voice flat. "She took Luka. Now I take everything."
"Even if it means killing her?"
Elira looked up, her eyes like cold embers. "Especially if it means that."
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Recruitment and Resolve
Juno, a sniper who had once been part of Vira's own rogue network, stepped forward.
"I've got contacts in Siberia. Old rebel groups who hate Crane's name as much as we do. They'll help us infiltrate."
"Bring them in," Elira said. "I don't want survivors this time."
Noah frowned. "You're planning to kill everyone in that base?"
"If they stand with Crane or Vira—they're already dead."
Ares stepped closer. "You're not a killer, Elira."
She turned to him. "Then what am I?"
"You're someone Luka believed in. Don't lose that."
Elira stared for a long moment. Then whispered, "I'm already gone."
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The Mission Begins
The plane that flew them toward the Arctic was a stealth aircraft from Luka's old stash. It cut through the clouds like a ghost.
Soren ran simulations in the background. "Obsidian has three layers: outer defense, central command, and a final vault we can't scan. That's where she's hiding."
Elira loaded her weapons in silence.
Juno pulled out a sniper rifle, assembling it with quick, precise clicks. "We hit hard and fast. No mercy. No pause."
Ares looked around at the team—smaller than before. But deadlier.
"Elira," he said. "What if we do this and it still doesn't feel like justice?"
She didn't answer.
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A Voice from the Past
As she sat alone that night, her comm crackled—one she hadn't used in weeks.
"Elira?" a faint voice said.
Her breath caught. "Vira."
"You're not ready for what's coming," Vira said softly.
"Then you should be afraid."
"I didn't kill Luka," Vira said. "Not directly. You left him vulnerable. You led him into that war."
"You set the fire," Elira growled. "I just didn't see the match in your hand."
Vira's voice hardened. "You're my creation, Elira. If you kill me—you kill the only person who understands what you are."
"I'm more than
what you built," Elira whispered. "And when I find you…"
"Then I'll welcome you home."
The line went dead.
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