THIRD PERSON POV
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"Shit—"
Renzo moved first.
He caught Ivy before she hit the ground, taking the impact himself as he dropped on his back.
"Kid… can you hear me?"
No response.
His jaw tightened.
"Fiona—Albert."
Fiona nodded quickly, though her hands trembled as she rushed to Albert's side.
Blood soaked through his clothes.
She leaned closer—
A breath.
Faint, but there.
"He's alive."
Zoe didn't waste time.
Portals snapped open—clean, precise.
Country H's main medical center.
Renzo lifted Ivy without hesitation, while others carried Albert through. Fiona and Nathan followed immediately.
The rest stayed behind.
Someone had to.
Donald didn't move.
Not yet.
He stared at the intruder's lifeless body—
Then kicked it.
Hard.
"What the hell are you…?" he muttered.
"Sir, please step aside."
Men in black flooded the area, efficient and emotionless as they sealed everything off.
The mansion—
Gone.
Reduced to broken stone and ash.
The boys sat near the ambulance.
Silent.
Nora had already been taken.
Nanny Gloria—
…was gone.
George approached slowly.
Carefully.
"Hey… boys."
Jordan didn't look up.
Didn't move.
Jonathan gave a small nod.
"Hi."
A pause.
"…Where's big sis?"
George hesitated, then forced a small smile.
"She's being treated in Country H. Sorcery, so… she'll be fine soon."
Another pause.
"Do you want Nora transferred there too?"
Jonathan looked at him.
Calm. Too calm.
"We're underage."
George's smile faltered.
"…Right."
Awkward.
Unsteady.
After a moment, he stepped away.
Back to what he understood—
helping.
The news spread fast.
Too fast across nations.
Reports of similar attacks surfaced.
Questions followed endlessly.
Was this the beginning of something bigger?
Who were they?
Why now?
But no answers came.
TWO WEEKS LATER
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Country H
Ivy and Albert shared a private ward—by request.
Albert was recovering well.
Ivy—
physically fine.
Still kept under observation against her will.
Their teammates visited often.
But carefully.
No one wanted to push too far.
So questions stayed unasked.
Tension stayed.
Ivy sat by the window, sketchbook in hand.
Her pencil moved steadily.
Unbothered.
Albert, across from her, was already buried in notes despite the bandages.
Work.
As always.
The door opened.
George and the others stepped in.
Nathan placed a stack of notes beside Albert, who immediately reached for them.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath.
"How are you feeling?" Lily asked.
"I told you already—I'm fine."
Albert didn't look up.
"This is a waste of time. We have work, and I'm stuck here doing nothing."
No one reacted.
That was just… Albert.
Nathan glanced at Ivy.
"And you?"
"I wasn't injured to begin with."
Her pencil didn't stop.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Zoe stepped forward.
"Mind explaining what happened?"
"Zoe, not now—"
Fiona reached for her, but Zoe shrugged her off and kept walking.
Straight to Ivy.
"Why were you the only one who could kill that thing? And without injury?"
"Zoe—"
"Boss, no."
Her voice sharpened.
"You all keep covering for her in the name of teamwork. Not today. We need answers."
No one moved.
They wanted to intervene.
But she wasn't entirely wrong.
Nathan spoke quietly.
"Ivy… you don't have to answer if you don't want to."
A pause.
Then—
"I did what was necessary."
Calm.
Flat.
"Efficient."
Zoe let out a short laugh.
"Efficient? You call that efficient?"
Her eyes hardened.
"You're a threat hiding behind heroism."
Ivy finally looked up.
"And you're a pest hiding behind bravery."
The sketchbook was snatched from her hands.
Donald moved instantly, grabbing Zoe's wrist and pulling her back.
"Enough."
His voice dropped.
Cold.
"For once, try using your head instead of acting like a madwoman."
PAH!
The slap echoed.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Everything froze.
Donald's head remained turned to the side.
A red mark forming across his cheek.
His jaw tightened.
Loosened.
Then tightened again.
Zoe stepped back.
Just slightly.
But she didn't apologize.
Didn't back down.
"You shouldn't have interfered—"
Her voice shook.
"Has she brainwashed—"
Her words cut off.
Donald's hand closed around her throat.
Fast.
Effortless.
"Not even my parents…"
His voice dropped lower.
"…dare lay a hand on me."
"Donald."
George stepped in immediately, prying his hand away before it could escalate further.
Zoe stumbled back, coughing—
Then turned and stormed out.
Silence remained.
Heavy.
Fractured.
Something had broken.
Not loudly.
But enough.
Another crack to their once perfect group.