Between abandoned factories, two men fled in frantic haste, disappearing into narrow streets and cracked concrete passages. Their footsteps echoed unevenly, clumsy, soaked in panic.
Above them, a shadow moved across the rooftops. It was only visible in brief flashes, whenever the pink neon lights flooding the area cut it against the sky. It moved fast, closing the distance effortlessly, as if the terrain were no obstacle at all.
The fugitives sped up even more, panting, glancing back in desperation.
Then a thunderous crash tore through the air.
Something dropped with violence and hit them head-on before they could react. The impact threw them to the ground. Dazed, they tried to get up, to defend themselves… but it was useless.
One took a sharp blow to the side of the neck and went still instantly. The other barely managed to lift his gaze before a direct hit to the face shut him down completely.
Silence returned.
Standing between both bodies was the Exterminator. He holstered his whip with a precise motion and pulled out his phone. He snapped a quick photo and sent a message: done.
He was about to leave when something stopped him.
After a breath, he sensed something.
His skin prickled.
An image crashed into his mind without warning: him as a child, screaming with hunger while people fought in stores; men wrestling for bread, bodies sprawled in the streets, insects covering the sky. Then another image: an older version of himself, staring at a collapsed house reduced to rubble.
He snapped back to himself. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs as if he needed to anchor himself to the present.
"He's close…" he murmured.
A faint smile, barely perceptible, formed on his face.
"So you're still alive, kid."
Elsewhere in the same world, Aiden and Kael stood in front of the Palace.
Aiden studied the building for a few seconds before speaking.
"Can we really just walk in like this?" he asked quietly. "Aren't we going to infiltrate… or force our way through?"
Kael didn't answer right away. He kept his eyes on the illuminated façade, analyzing the place.
"That's not how this works," he said at last. "Getting in is never the problem."
He turned slightly toward Aiden.
"The problem is getting out. In here, they know exactly when someone doesn't belong."
Aiden swallowed.
They walked together toward the entrance. Four guards watched the door, positioned with precision. Kael assessed them in an instant: weapons hidden under their jackets, relaxed postures, alert eyes. Professionals.
The guards didn't stop them. They didn't say a word.
They just tracked every step with their gaze.
Before crossing the threshold, Kael noticed a fixed camera right above the entrance, aimed directly at them.
Then they went in.
Inside was drowned in dimness. The lighting came almost entirely from lines of blue light running across the ceiling and down the walls, tracing artificial geometries that gave the place a cold, calculated feel.
Kael scanned quickly. The entrance connected to a small lobby, and to the right the main floor opened up. The space rose through three levels, each with railings overlooking the dance floor. Above everything, hanging from the ceiling and higher than the third level, a private booth stood like a permanent watchtower. That didn't go unnoticed.
One glance was enough to understand it.
There was everything.
Groups dressed in black occupied private tables, speaking in low voices. A young man, clearly from a powerful family, bragged while surrounded by escorts and friends, several girls around him. Measured laughter, calculated looks, gestures that felt rehearsed. Between groups there was constant friction, a latent tension, like it would only take a spark for everything to blow.
And still, Aiden felt it immediately.
As if the entire place were watching them.
They moved toward the bar. With every step, Aiden noticed conversations cutting off mid-sentence, certain laughs dying abruptly. Eyes lingered on them a second too long. It wasn't open hostility, but it was attention. Too much.
When they reached the counter, Kael rested an elbow on the bar.
"A Scotch," he ordered. "And a virgin piña colada."
The bartender looked at them without bothering to hide it while he wiped down a glass.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
Kael held his stare, impassive.
"No. We're here on business."
The bartender stayed silent another moment, evaluating them. Then he turned away without a word and started pouring the drinks.
Kael leaned slightly toward Aiden.
"You noticed it too, didn't you?"
Aiden kept his eyes forward.
"Yeah. We're popular, apparently."
Kael's frown tightened just a little.
"If we keep drawing attention like this, we won't be able to move."
He didn't have time to say anything else.
"And who told you this was a place for kids?"
The voice came from Aiden's side.
The man in the seat next to him turned toward him. He was huge, broad-shouldered, heavy-bodied, with a dull, muddy stare. He leaned in far enough to invade his space.
"They don't sell milk here," he added, getting even closer.
Aiden swallowed.
My God… this guy could crush me just by falling off the stool, he thought.
There was no time to hesitate. He thought fast, kept his expression steady, and said, almost calmly:
"Wow… so do only the ones who babble drink here…
or also the ones who can actually finish the glass?"
The bar went silent.
For a couple of seconds, it was like the whole place held its breath, waiting for a reaction.
You're an idiot, Aiden thought.
What did you just say?
The man slowly pulled back from Aiden's face.
And then he laughed.
"You think you're real smart, kid."
He turned to the bartender.
"Hey! Two whiskeys on the rocks."
Then he looked back at Aiden, smiling with a threat behind it.
"You'd better know how to drink, since you talk so much. For your own good."
Aiden felt eyes drilling into him.
Perfect. I have their attention, he thought.
Now I just have to stay in character… but for how long?
Without taking his eyes off the glass, he made a quick hand gesture toward Kael beside him. A clear signal.
Move.
Kael understood instantly. Using the rising noise and tension in the air, he stood calmly, as if nothing was happening, slipping through the crowd.
As he walked away, he murmured under his breath, without looking at him:
"Good thinking, kid."
Kael slid between the tables in the back, alert to every movement. He noticed how the men at one table exchanged tense looks with another group across from them; hard stares, nearly murderous. They weren't the only ones. Around him, different tables shared that same sharpened silence, as if everyone were measuring each other without saying a word.
He kept moving, not stopping.
If that guy is here, he thought, he's probably upstairs.
He looked up. From the second level the entire place could be controlled, and beyond that, hanging from the ceiling, the booth rose like the true command center.
I have to confirm he's here.
Kael clenched his jaw.
I need him to find me.
He knew that if he tried to look for him discreetly, he wouldn't make it five meters before someone stopped him. In that place, moving unseen was impossible.
So he had only one option left.
He'd have to gamble.
His figure appeared on one screen. Then another. And another.
The images showed different angles of the exact moment they crossed the entrance. There were no blind spots: every corner of the Palace was under surveillance, every step recorded.
The Accountant watched in silence, reclined in his chair.
He slowly turned, giving his back to the monitors. In front of him, five men waited inside the office, motionless, attentive.
"Bring him," the Accountant said, voice calm.
Meanwhile, Aiden remained seated across from the man, watching the bartender prepare the drinks. His stomach clenched from pure nerves.
Kael, whatever you're going to do… do it fast, he thought.
He leaned slightly toward the guy and lifted his glass.
"Give me a second," he said, forcing a smile. "I'm just going to finish my piña colada."
On the other side, Kael noticed movement.
Three men in dark suits with wine-colored ties walked straight toward him, parting the crowd with calculated ease. They didn't seem rushed. They didn't need to be.
Here we go, Kael thought.
They stopped in front of him.
"Come with us."
Kael held their gaze.
"Where are we going?"
No answer.
One of them simply turned, leading the way. Kael followed without resisting, moving down a narrower hallway, away from the noise of the floor.
At the end of the corridor stood the entrance to the booth.
One of the men pressed a switch next to the door. A camera activated, focusing on them. Only a few seconds passed.
From the other side, the Accountant watched them.
The door opened. And Kael went in.
The Accountant smiled when he saw him.
"Well, well…" he said calmly. "Look who we have here. The Wolf. Seems we cross paths again."
Kael answered with an easy smile.
"I just came to confirm everything's in order around here," he commented. "The police don't usually patrol this area very often."
Without asking permission, he sat in the chair to the right of the desk.
Inside the office there were four more men: one in each corner, motionless, attentive. Two more waited outside, guarding the entrance.
The Accountant studied him carefully.
"In fact, you saved me the trouble of finding you."
Kael pulled out a cigarette and brought it to his lips.
"Mind if I…?"
The Accountant extended a hand, granting the gesture.
Kael lit it. Inhaled slowly and let the smoke slip out.
"You're hard to track," he continued. "Good place to vanish off the map. You know, I had a few concerns… that wouldn't let me sleep, and they even made me come all the way here."
The Accountant tilted his head.
"Oh yeah? And what concerns you?"
Kael exhaled another stream of smoke.
"That the media blames you for the attacks… and that's where the story dies. The investigation stopped without explanations. No one mentioned the RDX."
He lifted his gaze.
"The same RDX I confirmed firsthand was in your warehouse."
The Accountant's smile began to fade.
His expression hardened.
Immediately, the four men raised their guns, aiming at Kael.
The Accountant raised a hand.
"Lower them."
The weapons dropped, but the tension stayed sharp.
"A military-grade compound no one asks how you get," Kael continued. "So if I ask, will you tell me how you obtain it… and for what purpose?"
He released the cigarette butt and let it fall to the floor.
The Accountant calmly picked up an ashtray and placed it on the edge of the desk, right in front of Kael.
"We don't throw cigarette butts on the floor here."
Kael formed a faint smile.
"Careless of me."
The silence thickened.
"Who else knows about this?" the Accountant asked.
Kael held his stare.
"Only me."
A brief pause.
"Or the police chief," he added. "Or the whole department. Anything's possible."
The Accountant narrowed his eyes.
"I'm not interested in you," Kael continued. "Or your business. Or this empire. I'm interested in the head of the snake."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I want to see Cobra."
The Accountant sighed and smiled with pity.
"What a shame," he said, standing up. "Cobra doesn't take visitors."
He stepped around the desk.
"You made a mistake coming here. I'm not going to eliminate you now… first I'm going to rip the information out of you."
His voice turned colder.
"And it won't be quick."
Kael's body tensed.
He measured distances. Four men. Too close.
Best option, he thought, is to throw myself to the side of the desk, take out the one in the corner, and use the position as cover… though I probably won't get out unhurt.
At the bar, the bartender set the glasses down in front of them.
Each took his own.
Aiden lifted his carefully. The smell hit him immediately.
I've never drunk anything like this.
This is disgusting, he thought.
But outwardly, he kept his expression firm, almost defiant. The huge man watched him closely, tilting his head.
"Here we go, kid," he said. "Let's see if you bite like you bark."
Aiden nodded faintly.
Both brought the glass to their lips at the same time and tipped their heads back.
But Aiden twisted his wrist at the last instant.
He yanked the glass hard to the side and let the alcohol shoot out, flying through the air beside his cheek. The liquid splashed full-force onto a table behind him, soaking several men dressed in black.
"What the hell?!" one of them shouted.
Chairs scraped violently. The men stood up, furious, thinking the attack had come from the table across from them. Without waiting for explanations, they confronted the other group, using the spill as an excuse.
The Palace reacted instantly.
Aiden coughed hard, bringing a hand to his throat, pretending the burn.
"Damn…" he said, forcing his voice. "Yeah, that was strong."
The bartender didn't take his eyes off him.
Neither did the huge man.
"You think you can fool me?" he growled, leaning closer.
Aiden swallowed.
Low profile is done, he thought.
He tensed, bracing for what was coming.
Then, behind him, a gunshot rang out.
One of the drenched guys had already fired. The shot hit a man from the table they'd gone to confront, and he collapsed, chest smoking, his scream barely beginning to form in the room.
The bartender lowered his head like he'd seen it a thousand times.
"It started," he murmured.
The Palace exploded.
Gunfire, screams, tables flipping. There were no clear sides, just armed people reacting on instinct.
Aiden used the confusion and the uproar. He spun and threw a punch straight into the face of the guy who'd been provoking him with the drinks. The man fell off the stool with a hard thud against the floor.
Aiden smiled faintly as he slid down, taking cover behind the bar chairs.
"Well… who would've thought that would work," he muttered to himself.
The satisfaction didn't last long.
When he looked up, he saw them.
Three men in black suits with wine-colored ties watched him from not too far away. They exchanged looks, said a few words, and started walking toward him, unhurried, confident.
Aiden felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Without thinking twice, he moved in a crouch, sliding between overturned tables and ducked bodies, staying low beneath the line of fire while shots kept cracking around him.
Up in the booth, the roar of the gunfight arrived like a violent echo.
The Accountant tilted his head, annoyed.
"They're like animals," he commented with disdain.
Down below, chaos was total. Some men fired without aiming, driven by panic. A stray bullet struck one of the booth's windows. The glass burst into a thousand shards, spraying inward.
Kael didn't hesitate.
"Now," he said.
He lunged to the side of the desk as he drew. He shot the man in the corner before he could react. The body hit the floor heavily.
Kael rolled and took cover.
Immediately, two of the men moved to shield the Accountant, pushing him toward the door while another tried to return fire.
"Handle him," the Accountant ordered calmly, without even looking back.
He withdrew under escort, walking with steady steps as if the gunfight didn't exist. As the two guards at the door came inside.
Kael watched them pulling away and clenched his teeth.
"Bastard… again you try to escape."
He switched to the submachine gun and opened fire. One escort dropped before he could react. The other two kept firing back, giving him no breathing room.
Kael dropped to the floor, let go of the long gun, and pulled the pistol from his belt. Using the space under the desk, he shot at the feet of the last two men, making them fall. Without wasting time, he finished both.
He sprang up.
And ran after the Accountant.
From the main floor, the Accountant pushed forward under escort, shoving bodies aside and moving through the chaos as if he didn't belong to it.
A few meters from the bar, Aiden saw him forcing his way through the crowd, escorted by two men moving with purpose through the mess. He didn't think twice. He launched himself in that direction, cutting through with punches, shoving aside bodies that got in his way.
In the motion, something gave under his clothes.
With a sharp pull, his wings deployed, ripping through the casual clothing he had on. The fabric tore beyond repair as Aiden spread them, using them as an improvised shield against crossfire.
"Stop him!" Kael shouted from behind. "He's the key!"
Aiden clenched his teeth and accelerated. He hit one man, then another, knocking them out of his path. He was close. Too close.
Then someone stepped in front of him.
A man appeared, gun in hand, aiming straight at Aiden's chest.
Before he could fire, a shadow dropped from behind.
The impact was brutal.
The man went flying several meters, slamming into the floor among overturned tables. Aiden stopped dead.
He looked up.
No.
Not now.
In front of him stood the Exterminator.
"We meet again, Moth Man," he said in a calm voice. "I think we have some unfinished business. Insects always return to the light… even when they know it burns."
Kael reached his side a few seconds later. His eyes tracked the Accountant, who used the chaos to get farther away, but when he focused on the man in front of Aiden, he knew immediately he wasn't like the others.
Aiden knew it too.
He looked at the Accountant… then at Kael.
"Go after him," he said, never taking his eyes off the Exterminator. "Leave this to me. That guy isn't looking for you."
"This isn't a game," Kael replied, tense.
Aiden nodded faintly.
"I know better than anyone. I learned the hard way."
He paused briefly.
"If he gets away now, who knows when we'll get another chance."
Kael held his gaze. The determination he saw there left no room for argument.
"Don't die," he said at last. "I'll see you on the hill."
The Exterminator didn't try to stop him. He simply watched him pass.
"You should've stayed in your hole," he told Aiden, never taking his eyes off him.
Aiden tore off the shredded remains of clothing still hanging from his body, letting them drop to the floor. Underneath, his suit was fully exposed.
"Guess this is our second meeting," he replied.
They stared at each other, motionless for an instant.
The noise of the Palace still roared around them, but for them, the world had narrowed to that single point.
And then, they prepared for first contact.