As they walked back together in silence, the neon lights of Neoterra Prime reflected in Elara's eyes. Behind that quiet stillness was the echo of everything she'd endured—cold experiments, endless pain, the loneliness of being turned into something more than human… and less at the same time.
Ronnie glanced at her, his thoughts heavy.
I saved you from the street… but I can't save you from yourself. All I can do is keep you from being used again.
The safehouse was a quiet refuge in the chaos of Neoterra Prime. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary high-rise apartment, but inside, it was reinforced with biometric locks, hidden surveillance, and enough emergency supplies to withstand a siege.
Ronnie and Elara stepped inside. Ronnie unlocks the door to their room. The room was simple: a large table with city maps scattered across it, a couch facing a muted news holo-screen, and two adjoining bedrooms.
As Elara quietly removed her shoes and sat down by the window, Ronnie locked the door behind them.
She didn't say anything. She rarely did. She just sat there, staring out into the neon-lit skyline, her face calm but unreadable.
Ronnie watched her for a moment before speaking softly.
Ronnie: "You really don't want to be around them, huh?"
Elara shook her head slightly.
Elara (quietly): "…I don't belong there."
Ronnie exhaled, rubbing his neck.
Ronnie: "You belong more than you think. They've been through hell too, even if it's different from yours."
She didn't reply. Her fingers traced faint shapes on the window glass, absentmindedly.
He walked over to the table and sat down heavily, his large frame almost too big for the simple chair. His eyes scanned the scattered documents—intel on the Black Halo, notes about Henry's group, and, tucked beneath it all, a photo of his son, Elion, from years ago.
Ronnie picked up the photo slowly.
Ronnie (quietly, to himself): "You're out there somewhere… in their hands… part of them."
He stared at Elion's young face in the photo—a boy full of life, before he ran away and later became a Soul Reaper.
Ronnie's gaze shifted to another paper on the table: a dossier on Henry and his group, collected by his own sources.
He muttered under his breath:
Ronnie: "Henry Dreherg… You remind me of him. The way you look at the world like it won't break you. The way you fight like there's still something worth saving…"
He clenched the photo of Elion slightly.
If anyone can help me reach him… it's you. Even if I have to lie to make it happen.
Elara's quiet voice broke the silence.
Elara: "… You're lying to them, aren't you?"
Ronnie froze for a second. He turned slowly toward her, but her gaze stayed on the city lights.
Ronnie: "… Why do you think that?"
Elara: "Because you look the same way you do every time you lie. You are a bad liar, Papa."
The words cut deeper than he expected.
Ronnie sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his face with one hand.
Ronnie: "I'm not lying about wanting to save my son. I just… can't tell them the whole truth. Not yet."
Elara finally looked at him, her eyes calm but piercing.
Elara: "…And when they find out?"
Ronnie didn't answer immediately. He stared at the photo of Elion again, his jaw tightening.
Ronnie: "When they find out… I just hope it's not too late."
Elara turned her gaze back to the window.
Elara (softly): "…You're scared."
Ronnie gave a faint, humorless chuckle.
Ronnie:
"I'm a father. I've been scared since the day I started raising you two."
The safehouse fell into silence. Outside, the distant hum of Neoterra Prime's endless chaos filled the air, but inside, it was just two people bound by trauma and secrets neither could fully share.
The neon haze of Neoterra Prime faded into a dull morning glow. From the resting quarters' windows, the city looked deceptively peaceful—like a digital painting hiding the rot beneath.
Henry was the first to wake. He sat at the edge of his bed for a moment, quietly watching the city breathe. Despite the calm, there was a tension in the air—a sense that once they stepped into those tunnels, everything would change.
In the small common room, Jack was already up, leaning back in a chair with his boots on the table. Emilia stood by the counter, sipping a cup of bitter black coffee she made in the kitchen.
Ichiro stretched in the corner, his posture rigid, like he was preparing himself mentally. Lenny sat on the couch, quietly reviewing the digital maps Ronnie had sent over the night before.
Henry joined them, breaking the quiet.
Henry: "So. Today's the day."
Jack smirked without looking up.
Jack: "Finally. I was starting to get bored of this neon nightmare."
Emilia glanced at Henry, her calm eyes hiding a subtle sharpness.
Emilia: "We don't know what we're walking into. Ronnie said the tunnels are more than just a smuggling route. It's where the Black Halo moves their real operations."
Ichiro folded his arms, his voice low.
Ichiro: "And he's trusting us with it because he's got no one left."
Lenny turned the map hologram toward the group.
Lenny: "Here. Three levels down. Old magrail lines they shut off decades ago. Ronnie says it's one of their 'arteries'—a place they use to move supplies and people without being seen."
Jack leaned over the map lazily.
Jack: "So what? We cut the artery, and they start bleeding."
Lenny nodded slowly, but his voice was careful.
Lenny: "If only it were that simple. Ronnie also said the Black Halo isn't like other groups. They're organized. Fanatical. If we make the wrong move down there, we might not even make it back to the surface."
Henry's gaze hardened.
Henry: "We've dealt with worse. At least this time we know what we're walking into."
But even he felt the weight of the unknown pressing in.
Ronnie enters the room.
Ronnie: "The tunnels have been active since last night. My scouts spotted movement—cargo, armed escorts, and Halo Disciples. If you're going to move, now's the time."
Henry glanced at the group.
Henry: "We're ready."
Ronnie: "…One more thing. If you see anything unusual—rituals, markings—document it. I need to understand how deep their roots go."
Ronnie leaves the room, heading to the tower.
As the group gathered their gear, Emilia briefly glanced at Henry.
Emilia: "You were quiet last night. Something on your mind?"
Henry paused for a moment.
Henry: "That girl. Elara. She's… different. There's something in her eyes."
Emilia tilted her head slightly.
Emilia: "You saw it too."
But before the thought could linger, Jack grabbed his coat, breaking the tension with his usual bluntness.
Jack: "Save the deep talk for later. Let's go beat some ghosts in the dark."
They left the quarters and headed toward an old magrail entrance in a forgotten part of the city.
The entrance was sealed with rusted metal gates and old warning signs. Lenny hacked through the lock while the others kept watch.
As the gate creaked open, the air that spilled out was cold and stale, carrying a faint metallic smell.
Henry took the first step down the narrow staircase.
Henry: "Stay sharp. From here on… we're in their world."
The group descended into darkness.