Jax's words hung in the air, heavy and final as a slammed door. "This time, we're going to collect."
The circle of soldiers tightened around us. These were not Glitch's disorganized, greedy scavengers. These were trained fighters, veterans of the Ouroboros wars who had survived the fall of their factions. Their movements were coordinated, their aim was steady, their faces were hard masks of grim determination. There was no escape. They had us cold.
Anya's pistol was still aimed at Jax's chest, her knuckles white around the grip. She was a coiled spring of violence, ready to snap. "Jax, listen to yourself," she said, her voice a low, steady growl that cut through the tense silence. "You're siding with the same people who followed Viper. The same people who would have killed you and your precious 'Ideals' without a second thought. Have you forgotten who they are?"
"Viper is dead," one of the Dominion soldiers interjected, his voice a harsh, gravelly rasp. He was a barrel-chested man with a thick beard and eyes that had seen too much. He stepped forward slightly, his heavy assault rifle held in a low ready. "He was a tyrant. We know that. But Seraph is the one who betrayed us all. She used us as pawns in her game, then tried to have us all wiped out by the System. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Jax nodded in slow, deliberate agreement, his cold eyes never leaving mine. "He's right, Anya. Old loyalties are dead. The Idealists, the Dominion... they're just names for ghosts now. We are The Forsaken. And we have only one rule: we survive, and we settle our debts." He looked directly at me, and the hatred in his eyes was so personal, so intense, it felt like a physical blow. "And you, Leo, you have the biggest debt of all. You were the catalyst for all of this. You brought Seraph to power. You were her weapon. You led her right to us, and then you stood by while she burned our world down."
His words were a twisted version of the truth, a narrative poisoned by his own bitterness and loss. He needed someone to blame, and I was the perfect target.
"That's not true, Jax," I said, keeping my voice as calm and reasonable as I could. I had to try to de-escalate this. He was not a mindless killer; he was a man driven by grief. "I was a pawn, just like you. Seraph used us both. My fight is with her, same as yours. My fight is with the System that created this whole mess."
I took a small step forward, slowly raising my hands to show I was unarmed, that I was not a threat. The muzzles of a half-dozen rifles tracked my movement. "We have the Exile's Key," I said, playing my strongest card. "It's the one thing Seraph fears. It's the one thing that can give us leverage against the System. We can use it together. We can finish what Caden started. That's what you always wanted, wasn't it?"
I was appealing to his old ideals, to the memory of the man he used to be, the revolutionary who believed in a better world. For a moment, a flicker of something passed through his eyes—a shadow of doubt, of the man he once was. The name "Caden," the martyred founder of Ouroboros, still held power.
But the moment passed. The shadow vanished, and his face hardened again into a cold, unforgiving mask.
"Caden is dead," Jax said, his voice flat and empty. "His dreams died with him. They were the dreams of a fool who thought you could reason with a corrupt system. The Key? You think that's a tool for freedom?" He let out a short, bitter laugh. "It's a tool for control. It's the thing that made Seraph a tyrant. Power corrupts everyone, Leo. And you've had more power than anyone from the very beginning. The MVP Protocol that let you cheat death. The System Anathema status that makes you a walking glitch. You're not a victim in this story. You're an anomaly. A virus. And we're the cure."
He was lost. He had taken his pain and grief and forged it into a weapon, and he was pointing it directly at me. He was no longer a revolutionary. He was just a hunter, looking for a target to blame for his pain.
"What about Anya?" I pressed, trying a different tactic, shifting the focus. "She has no bounty. She fought with you in the clinic. She saved your life. She's one of us, an Exile."
Jax glanced at Anya, his expression unreadable for a moment. I saw a flicker of the old camaraderie, a memory of a shared battle. But it was quickly extinguished. "She made her choice," he said, his voice turning cold again. "She stands with you. In the Undercroft, you're either with the bounty, or you're with the hunters. There's no middle ground. She's collateral damage."
He raised his hand, a clear, final signal to his men to ready their weapons. The clicking of safeties being switched off echoed in the cavern, a dozen tiny sounds that added up to a death sentence.
"This is the end of the line, Leo," Jax said, his voice low and determined. "No more deals. No more tricks. No more running. You've caused enough chaos. It's time to pay your debt."
The negotiation had failed. Reason had failed. He was lost to his hate. We had only one option left. We had to embrace the chaos he accused me of creating. We had to become the monsters he thought we were. The circle was closing, the guns were aimed, and the air was thick with the promise of violence. I met Anya's gaze across the small space that separated us. I saw no fear in her eyes, only a grim, fiery resolve. We had made our choice in the control room. We would face this together, too.