—Snow kept falling in slow drifts, wrapping the ruins of Elden's Rest in a new, soft silence.
Harlan's group moved cautiously, their shapes ghostlike in the mist. No one spoke; there was no need.
The three Pioneers moved with the rhythm of soldiers long used to each other—Harlan at point, eyes locked ahead; Rhea covering the flanks; Eli, the youngest, closing the line.
Every so often Eli lifted his gaze, his pupils fading pale as a blue light spread through his irises.
The world changed.
He could see warmth—the fading trails life left behind in the frozen dark.
—Close, —he whispered, almost inaudible. —She passed here. Less than half an hour ago.
Harlan stopped. Even the wind seemed to hush, listening.
—Direction?
Eli pointed north, toward the ice-coated ruins.
—There. Looks like she's alone.
The bald man nodded and pressed on. With each step, the air thickened, charged, as if the storm itself recognized him.
Rhea pulled her scarf up over her mouth.
—Hope it's just a civilian. If it's another group, this gets ugly.
—Only if it has to, —Harlan said without turning.
They slipped through the alleys, leaving a neat trail of prints in untouched snow.
---
Two kilometers away, Naomi walked with measured pace.
She carried the supply bag over her shoulder, communicator on her wrist, scarf drawn tight over her face. The silence was complete—just the wind weaving between buildings and the crunch of snow under her boots.
Then she heard it.
Three footsteps.
Steady. Heavy.
Her body locked. She stopped breathing, tilted her head, and let her ability bloom.
The world of sound stretched open: echoes on ice, cloth brushing a wall, a held breath.
Three people. Moving carefully. In sync.
Naomi frowned. Not random.
She touched her communicator, voice barely a murmur.
—Lucas, I've got company. Three of them. Less than a kilometer out.
A pause, then his voice:
—You're sure?
—Absolutely. Not moradores. They move like us.
A dull thud—the sound of a pack dropped.
—Get out. Now. Backtrack. I'm coming to you.
Naomi exhaled, switched the device off, and drew her weapon but kept it low.
She moved quietly, pressed to the walls, looking for a way to slip away unseen.
---
Harlan's trio followed the thermal trail to a half-collapsed corner.
Eli raised a hand.
—Got her. She's close.
—Distance? —Harlan asked.
—Seven hundred meters. Moving slow. I think she knows.
Harlan nodded.
—Then she knows we're coming.
Rhea scoffed.
—Perfect. An ambush.
—Or she's scared, —Harlan said evenly. —Either way, hold formation.
Snow cracked beneath them, muffling sound. The air turned colder, heavier—as if the whole town held its breath.
---
Naomi turned down a narrow alley, rubble and frozen glass crunching underfoot.
She stopped, listening again.
The steps were louder now.
Closer.
One breathed through his mouth. Another dragged a boot.
The third… nothing. Calm, deliberate.
She caught their reflections in a shattered window: three shapes moving through the blizzard, dark ghosts against white.
Her heartbeat hammered, but her voice stayed steady as she whispered into the radio.
—They're right on top of me. I can't fall back without being seen.
—I'm almost there, —Lucas answered, voice taut but steady. —Hold on.
Naomi pressed the radio to her chest and crouched behind a slab of concrete.
Wind shifted, sweeping snow into the passage where she hid.
The three Pioneers approached fast.
Eli lifted a hand.
—She's here. I see her.
Harlan nodded.
—Where?
—There, —Eli pointed.
Rhea spat on the ground.
—I'll go. Talk to her.
Four meters away, Rhea stepped forward. Naomi broke cover and aimed her pistol.
—Don't move, —she warned. —One step and I shoot.
—Easy, girl, —Rhea said, raising her hands. —Just want to talk.
—Then talk. Why are you following me?
—We've got questions, that's all, —Rhea said softly. —No one's here to hurt you.
—You from this town? Alone?
—Just looking for food, —Naomi answered.
—That so? —Rhea feigned innocence. —Think you could share some? My group's starving.
—Don't have enough, —Naomi said. —You'll find more in the other buildings.
—If you'll excuse me, I'll be going now. —She stepped back.
—So soon? We were just getting acquainted, sweetheart, —Rhea said with a crooked smile, stepping closer.
—Stop! One more step and I'll fire.
—Yeah? I'd like to see that, —Rhea said, taking another.
Naomi braced—
Then a hand clamped her wrist.
A surge of electricity shot through her body.
She dropped, stunned.
—That fast? —she breathed, eyes finding the bald man who'd moved faster than thought.
Harlan watched her calmly.
—Careful one, —he said, voice low. —She's hiding something.
Naomi fell to her knees, snow cushioning the hit. Her body trembled, muscles refusing to obey.
Harlan grabbed her coat collar and lifted her easily. His cold eyes studied her like a broken tool.
—Who are you? —he demanded.
Naomi clenched her jaw, silent.
A blue spark raced down his arm, lighting the snow for an instant. The smell of ozone filled the air.
The next jolt made her gasp, sharp and strangled.
—Don't make me repeat myself. Where're you from? How many?
Rhea stepped up, arms crossed.
—Not military. Maybe a scavenger.
—Then she knows where the supplies are, —Harlan said, never taking his eyes off Naomi. —Or maybe a nearby shelter.
Behind them, Eli scanned the perimeter, eyes glowing blue.
—Nothing within five hundred meters, —he said tensely. —But we're not alone. Old heat signatures… recent.
Harlan's gaze returned to Naomi.
—So you're not alone.
She looked up, lip bleeding.
—Why are you doing this? —she whispered. —Why so much violence?
He dropped her into the snow.
—Because in this world, —he said, voice like thunder, —only the strong survive.
He knelt beside her, face close.
—Our refuge is dying. No food. No medicine. No hope. We were sent here for supplies… and people. If we have to steal or kill to get them, we will.
Naomi's eyes burned with horror and anger.
—Then you're not human anymore.
A spark flared across Harlan's knuckles.
—Maybe not, —he said, and struck her. The punch came with another flash of blue.
Rhea watched, expression unreadable.
—Don't kill her, —she said at last. —She might still be useful.
Harlan exhaled frost.
—Not killing her… yet.
Eli turned suddenly, eyes brightening.
—Wait—something's moving. Heat signature, fast. Not animal.
Harlan straightened.
—Distance?
—Hundred fifty meters. Coming straight for us.
The bald man smiled—a thin, dangerous curl.
—Looks like her friend's decided to join.
Snow thickened, spiraling in the wind.
Rhea cocked her weapon and took position by a wall.
Eli strained his sight, searching through the white blur.
Nothing.
No form.
No heat.
Just silence.
And yet—something was there.
Something moving without prints.
Something breathing among them, unseen.
Snow swallowed the world.
Lucas moved through the alley shadows, breath slow and measured. Every step placed with surgical care. In silent mode, even the air seemed unaware of him; his presence dissolved into cold and wind.
Ahead, three figures cut shapes in the haze.
The bald one—Harlan—stood tall, arms folded, while the pale-eyed boy scanned with eerie focus. Eli's pupils glowed faint blue, coals in darkness. Lucas understood instantly: thermal sense. Heat-tracker.
If he spotted him, the advantage was gone.
So he'd be the first to fall.
From his vantage, Lucas saw Naomi on the ground, half upright, face bruised, breath uneven. Her hands were bound. Every twitch from Harlan made her flinch.
Cold anger rose through him—but he held it.
Rage was useless. Patience wasn't.
He crouched behind a broken beam, watching. Eli kept sweeping the area, eyes lit with spectral light.
Lucas slowed his breathing. Dropped his pulse. Even his warmth. He knew how to mask life signs if he pushed deep enough, until heartbeat and heat nearly vanished.
Eli frowned, scanning—and saw nothing.
The brutal cold helped. In a frozen world, a man's warmth barely existed.
Lucas waited, calculating.
Then Harlan's voice thundered through the ruins.
—I know you're there! Come out, or your friend dies here!
His shout echoed through the frostbitten facades.
—I don't want a fight! Just your supplies—and your shelter's location! Cooperate, and you both live!
Lucas grit his teeth. Ignored it. Readied to move.
He tossed a rock far to the right—and slipped behind Eli.
The boy turned at the noise, eyes flaring blue.
In that heartbeat, Lucas was already there, a shadow sliding through the wreckage. He came in from the right flank.
Eli froze, sensing… something.
Then a hand clamped over his mouth and dragged him against the wall.
A dull thud.
Lucas pinned him, forearm under the jaw.
Eli tried to cry out, but only a muffled groan escaped.
Lucas struck once at the neck—precise, nonlethal. The boy sagged, unconscious, melting into the snow.
Harlan turned sharply. —Eli?
Silence.
Rhea frowned. —I don't like this…
Lucas was gone again, folding into the storm. He hid the body behind a fallen column and scanned.
Harlan advanced, the air around him humming with static—electric energy crackling faintly.
So you're the threat, Lucas thought, heartbeat steady as stone.
Harlan's voice cut through the wind:
—Last chance! Come out, or she dies before sunrise!
Naomi raised her head, eyes searching the ruins, unaware he was already there.
He looked at her. Then at Harlan. Then Rhea.
Distances. Angles. Timing.
Three targets.
One electric. One unknown—worrying.
The tracker, neutralized.
He needed only a distraction. A perfect strike.
The wind howled, snow spiraling.
Lucas gripped the wrapped hilt of his katana and exhaled.