Author Note: This note isn't going to be edited due to how late it is...and I want to sleep lol, but I am going to answer the reviews! Woah, it's been a minute but here is the chapter concluding the Elan ARC! Whoop! 5k words and I hope you enjoy. This one was giving me some strange difficulty, but weirdly I had the mood to get it done. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to get another one done. Still, thanks everyone for the follows, favorites, reviews, comments, etc. I greatly appreciate the support and I hope you guys keep on supporting.

I don't know how to properly promote fics. Wattpad is very weird with showing certain stories, so, if anyone wants to spread it around or educate me on the algorithm for either or Wattpad it would be greatly appreciated. I want to get the story more out there, not to out there to much though lol. Still, thanks everyone for the constant support. Now, below I am going to be answering reviews. We are at the end of the Elan ARC and now the story is going to start moving quicker for this portion.

While in the anime the Elan Ceres duel was two episodes, this was basically a sort of mini arc. Now, I would say we are moving in a good place. The next coming chapters I have an idea of what I wanna do. Episode 7 - 10 will hopefully at most be five chapters at most. This will be following the Winter and Christmas section of the story. I hope you all enjoy!

Follow, favorite, review, comment. It greatly keeps me motivated. Best wishes and I'll see you next time!

Reviews

TheEmeraldMage: First off, thanks for all the wonderful comments and reviews. Your analysis for the fic keeps me writing and helps me improve. Likewise, I am very glad how much you enjoy this fic. Like you, I was dissatisfied with Witch from Mercury and honestly believe it had a lot of untapped potential. However, sadly, that potential was not articulated well on screen. This chapter is one of my favorites and I hope you enjoy. Keep it up with your great analysis and you as well stay safe in this crazy world we live in!

Eternicus: Connor in this chapter...your going to see at the end. Also, nice find with that Petra one! I was worried people would not get the implications of what he was doing and saying. Let's just say that Connor's crimes and atrocities...he isn't the best guy. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 27

Jack

Jack stood by the window, peering out at the world beyond the hospital room. His gaze lingered on the figure lying on the white bed, machines humming around him, tubes snaking from his body like dark tendrils. Aiden, battered and broken but alive.

"A different hospital, at least," Jack remarked, his voice heavy with the weight of recent events. The trial by combat between Aiden Winters and Elan Ceres had ended in violence, but it wasn't even Ceres at all—a mere clone or body double, leaving nothing but charred remains.

Suletta sat close to Aiden's bed, her arm wrapped tightly around herself beneath a blanket provided by her mother. Her eyes were fixed on Aiden, a mix of worry and relief etched on her face.

"Where are you off to?" Oscar's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere.

Jack let out a weary sigh. "I need to check the cameras again."

"The cameras?" Oscar's incredulous tone echoed in the room. "After everything, you're worried about the cameras?"

Jack shot him a sharp look before turning back to the window, his thoughts consumed by the sight of Aiden hooked up to machines, his prosthetics damaged and removed, his mechanical eye occasionally glazing over. It was a cruel juxtaposition—a glimpse of life in the midst of such devastation.

"A damn coma," Jack muttered, his frustration evident.

"It could've been worse," Oscar offered, attempting to inject a note of optimism.

"Worse?" Jack scoffed. "How could it possibly be worse?"

Oscar's reply hung heavy in the air. "Aiden could be like Elan right now."

Jack fell silent, the memory of Elan—limbless, burnt, and writhing in agony—haunting his thoughts. They had carried him out in a bag, a bag.

They were like Elan before... disposable. Now, they might have placed more value on their lives, but the harsh reality remained.

"Jack," Oscar's voice cut through the heavy air, his gaze fixed on his friend. Oscar leaned on his crutches, his expression etched with concern. "You're shaking, Jack."

Jack glanced down, noticing the tremble in his fists. "Christ, that duel was something else," he said, his words tinged with a bitter laugh. But he fell silent, the weight of recent events pressing down on him.

"Elan, he..." Oscar began, but Jack interrupted.

"He died with nothing," Jack remarked bitterly. "No friends, no family, not even a girl. It's like he never existed... and this isn't even the real him."

He paused, turning to face Oscar. "Can you imagine how horrible that is? They're going to dispose of what's left of him, and it'll be like he never existed."

Oscar fell silent, grappling with Jack's words. "Does it matter?" he finally asked. "I don't want to sound callous, but this world is cruel, and we've seen it firsthand. It's wrong what Ceres, or whatever his name was, got involved in, but he had the power of that gundam. What was truly stopping him from being free?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at Oscar. "...and what's stopping us from being free?" he countered.

"Huh?" Oscar's confusion was evident.

"We went to retrieve weapons from our homeland, our dead homeland that we can never return to," Jack explained. "Just being on our surface can boil our blood and melt our skin. Oscar, what are we still fighting for? What does Aiden hope to achieve?"

Oscar remained silent for a moment, contemplating Jack's words. "Are you talking about this deal with Prospera?" he asked.

Jack lowered his gaze to the floor. "We messed up big time. Connor assaulted... attempted to murder Laude. Who knows what horrible consequences could have arisen from that? And just when our lives were over, Prospera comes with a solution. Oscar, do you realize how strange that is?"

Oscar looked up at Jack. "Don't turn away from the truth," Jack insisted. "She wasn't our savior. We're merely her pawns... Aiden made a deal with the devil."

"Whoa," Oscar raised his hands in protest. "Hold on, we don't know a damn thing about Prospera Mercury. She might seem odd, but look at Suletta... it runs in the family," he added with a forced smile, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Jack's demeanor betrayed his unease, his head shaking subtly as he voiced his concerns. "I don't like this," he murmured, his words carrying a weight of apprehension.

"What does Prospera get from locking us up?" Oscar interjected, his tone tinged with skepticism. "She's our backer, right? Now we actually have someone to complain to about our crappy titan setups."

Jack pivoted on his heel, his movements resolute. "Fine, then," he declared firmly. "If you don't believe me, I'm going to figure it out on my own."

"And what are you going to figure out, Jackie?" Oscar teased with a snort, his skepticism evident.

Jack paused, his gaze locking with Oscar's. "Answers," he stated simply, the word heavy with determination.

As Jack strode away, Oscar watched him, his hand outstretched and a sense of concern etched across his face. But Jack remained undeterred, disappearing down the corridor. Oscar sighed, resigned to Jack's impulsive quest for truth. He glanced around the bustling hospital, taking a seat on a nearby bench.

"He's probably just going to release his frustration on Cecilia," Oscar mused to himself with a chuckle, leaning back on the bench. Though he wished he could be in the room, his amusement outweighed any sense of urgency.

His thoughts turned to the recent events, a smile tugging at his lips. "Aiden, you sly dog," he chuckled softly. "You passed out mid-kiss, and Suletta was so red-faced, and Miorine was so angry. You're going to have to take responsibility."

Meanwhile, Jack arrived at the elevator and made his way to the front reception. He rang the bell, prompting a tired-looking woman in blue scrubs to approach him.

"I am a friend of Aiden Winters," Jack began, his voice authoritative. "He's a patient here, and his... his girlfriend, Suletta. She needs something from his possessions." Jack fabricated the lie smoothly, though he wondered if it was truly necessary.

The woman, too fatigued to question further, disappeared momentarily and returned with a package. "This was all the possessions that the doctors and emergency services were able to recover for your friend," she informed him before the phone began to ring, signaling the intrusion of yet another interruption.

Her eyes widened in alarm. "Excuse me," she exclaimed, swiftly rising from her seat and darting to the corner of the room to retrieve the landline. Jack watched her intently as she grabbed the phone, but his focus was elsewhere.

Ignoring the conversation unfolding behind him, Jack removed the cover from the cardboard box, revealing its contents. Instead of firearms, Aiden had packed his armor and clothes – tattered, blood-stained garments and twisted, bent metal armor, including Daniel's helmet. The left visor bore a faint, jagged crack, its once bright red glow now dimmed.

But it was Aiden's pilot belt that caught Jack's attention. A treasure overlooked by the city police and doctors. In its holster rested Aiden's data knife. Jack deftly removed the blade from the belt and concealed it within the sleeve of his jacket before slipping away unnoticed, the rain still pounding down in the late hours of the night.

As Jack navigated the rain-soaked streets, he examined the data knife in his hands. With a flick of his thumb, the knife's intricate circuitry came to life, emanating a stream of yellow volts. Each data knife was unique, and this one had a particular charge to it. Prospera had mentioned retrieving the remains of Aiden's mech and Suletta's aerial unit. "Starting with the aerial would be a good start," Jack mused to himself, a smirk playing on his lips. But first, his thoughts veered to another matter.

"We need some firepower… just in case things get hairy," Jack muttered, a grin spreading across his face at the prospect.

Miorine

Meanwhile, thirty minutes after Jack's departure, Oscar bid his farewells, leaving Suletta to care for Aiden.

Elsewhere, Prospera and Miorine stood side by side, peering through the window into Aiden's room. Aiden lay on the hospital bed, connected to various machines, while Suletta slept nearby, her head resting on his mattress.

"Do you think that blanket will be enough to keep her warm?" Prospera inquired, her gaze fixed on the sleeping girl.

Miorine's eyes widened at Prospera's question, a sudden jolt of surprise coursing through her. "I-I think she'll be fine," she stammered, her voice faltering slightly under Prospera's penetrating gaze.

Prospera emitted a heavy sigh, her expression weighted with the burdens of parenthood. "It's difficult being a parent, Miorine. Especially a single parent. I often wonder if I'm doing right by my daughter. Did Suletta ever tell you about her father's passing?"

Miorine nodded slowly, recalling the somber conversations she'd shared with Suletta. "Y-yes, she did. Aiden knows too…"

Prospera chuckled softly, interrupting Miorine's words. "I bet Aiden knows a lot about my daughter," she mused, her tone tinged with amusement.

A weight settled over the room as Miorine remained silent, her thoughts swirling like a storm within her mind. Prospera's next question pierced the silence like a knife. "Do you think he makes my daughter happy, Miorine?"

Miorine felt the sting of tears threatening to spill, her heart heavy with unspoken emotions. "I…I know that Aiden Winters would die for your daughter," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

Prospera sighed contentedly, her features softening with relief. "Well, that's a relief, Miorine. I've read through his file, and Aiden always seemed like a good boy with a troubled past. He didn't choose the life he had, but he was dealt his hand. It is what it is, don't you think?" she remarked, her words carrying a weight of resignation.

Miorine could only nod in response, her thoughts drifting to uncharted territories.

"Suletta is eighteen, and Aiden is what…nineteen?" Prospera continued, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Nineteen," Miorine confirmed softly.

Prospera chuckled knowingly. "You had that memorized, didn't you, Miorine?" she remarked, her tone teasing.

Caught off guard, Miorine could only blush in response.

"Ah, so my prediction was true," Prospera declared matter-of-factly, her gaze steady on Miorine.

Miorine's eyes widened in disbelief, her heart racing with a mixture of shock and apprehension. "What…what prediction?" she managed to inquire, her voice barely above a whisper.

Prospera's gaze held hers, unwavering. "You're in love with my daughter's boyfriend," she stated plainly, her words hanging heavy in the air like a foreboding omen.

Before Miorine could formulate a response, Prospera continued, her tone calm yet unnervingly perceptive. "You're a good actor, no doubt. But I see the way you look at him, the way you worry about him," she observed, her eyes flicking to meet Miorine's in the mirror. "I wonder, did you realize your feelings for him before…or was it after my Suletta stole him away from you?"

"Enough," Miroine curtly spoke, glaring daggers at the woman before her. "I did not come here to be teased and harassed by you and..."

"It must be very saddening," remarked Prospera, her tone dripping with a subtle cruelty. "Is that why you are staying and stopped trying to run back to Earth?"

Miroine's eyes widened in surprise, her words stumbling over each other as her legs threatened to give way beneath her. Prospera threw her head back in a mocking gesture. "Your father... the rules still apply, and technically if you do not leave, the expectation is a legal marriage. Has that been in the back of your mind this whole time?"

Miroine's eyes flashed open wide. She had been preoccupied with Suletta, Harmony House, and the troubles being Delling Rembran's daughter brought. While she and Deacon had reached an agreement to secure her freedom, the thought of escaping on their spacecraft lingered in her mind. But her father was no fool; they needed to be smarter. Yet, her thoughts drifted to moments spent by the river, the sound of Suletta's laughter, and, for the briefest of moments, Aiden's smile graced her mind's eye.

"Ah, the guilt... how does it feel pining for the lover of your best friend, my daughter?" remarked Prospera, her voice dripping with amusement.

"Shut up!" snapped Miorine, her voice trembling with frustration. "I-I..."

But Prospera's chuckle cut her off. "But the thing is, Miorine, you know deep down that he isn't going to love you the way he loves my Suletta. There is no way, but you want him to look at you that way, don't you? You want him to hold you tight into the night, to touch you and embrace you, and to love you with his body and soul..."

Miorine's mouth went dry as Prospera's words sank in. If things were different, if Suletta was not there... her mind flashed to moments in her greenhouse, to what might have been if only she had... maybe... if he...

Prospera's smile remained, a haunting presence as she continued to torment Miorine, as if it were all a game only Prospera was privy to. And Miorine's thoughts returned to that moment, wondering if something had happened. She could still see him in her mind's eye, all dark-haired and blue-eyed, and she couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of his eyes, even with the bionic enhancements. The teasing banter, the herb clinging to his skin, it all faded away in that moment. And for the briefest of moments, she pondered what might have transpired if she had entertained one of his advances.

Her silver hair spread across the pillow like a river of moonlight. Beads of sweat gathered at the small of her back. A sleepy happy smile, with narrowed eyes pierced through him. Naked and raw, he lay between her thighs, his hand tracing along her breast. But it should have been Suletta. He was too late.

"Sad," Prospera remarked with a hint of malice. "Even if you do marry him, he won't love you."

Miorine remained silent, absorbing the verbal assault. However, Prospera sighed and fixed her gaze upon her. "What if I told you there's a world I could offer you? A world where Aiden Winters could fall in love with you."

Miorine's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?" she questioned.

"A world free of war, connected through the stars, devoid of discrimination and poverty. A utopia that stretches beyond our imagination... Quiet Zero."

Prospera moved closer to Miorine, placing a hard drive in her hand. "Your mother was working on that project," she stated matter-of-factly.

Miorine's eyes widened in astonishment. "My mom was..." She paused, her gaze fixed on the hard drive. "What's on it?"

"Your mother's life's work," Prospera replied. "It's only fitting for her daughter to continue it."

"But my father... I've never heard anything about this in my life," Miorine protested.

Prospera sighed, her gaze drifting to Aiden Winter's still form on the bed. "It was your mother's passion, Miorine. You're familiar with her scientific endeavors... She always dreamed of uniting people and creating life. Quiet Zero, if deployed, will end all wars, suffering, and grief."

Miorine fell into stunned silence, her mouth agape and eyes wide as saucers. She shot a fierce glare back at Prospera. "You expect me to believe that my father held the keys to a utopia?" she spat.

Her anger boiled over, directed at the enigmatic figure before her. "You insult me, you bully me... And now you claim that my deceased mother had..."

Prospera reached out, resting her hand on Miorine's shoulder. "Help me, Miorine. And I'll give you everything you desire and more..."

As Prospera's grip tightened, Miorine's gaze flickered sadly to Suletta, then drifted to Aiden. "Anything you want and more," she whispered, and Prospera's lips curled into a sinister smile.

"Aiden, Oscar, Deacon, Jack... Daniel," Miorine whispered, the names weighing heavy on her tongue. Each one a haunting reminder of lives lost, of battles fought and scars earned. And Daniel, the final name, the one that shattered the fragile peace of their existence. Prospera's voice cut through the silence, her words dripping with a bitter kind of sorrow. "Their lives have been forever wracked with war, despair, mutilation..."

Miorine remained silent, her thoughts swirling in the darkness of her mind.

"Who knows what sort of lives they would've lived..." Prospera's voice trailed off, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

Miorine's mind drifted to the tales of Deacon's sister, to Oscar's cryptic words about the planet Harmony, to Laude's ominous warnings... a Warband, a legion seeking vengeance for Harmony. It was all avoidable, a perfect world, Miorine's quiet zero.

With a determined glint in her eye, Miorine turned to face Prospera. Though her lips were drawn tight and her gaze narrowed, she spoke with a steely resolve. "I am going to examine what is on this hard drive. If I find out you are lying, you're in for a world of..."

But Prospera interrupted with a chuckle. "Then go find out," she said, her voice ringing with an unsettling confidence.

Surprised by the lack of tact, Miorine sighed and made her way down the hall, the red flash drive clutched tightly in her hand. "Mom," she whispered to herself, unaware of the heavy gaze of Prospera hidden behind the mask.

Jack

Darkness enveloped him as he ran through the forest, the sound of barking dogs echoing in the distance. Mud splattered beneath his feet, his pilot armor's lights dimmed, the scarlet stain of blood seeping from his side.

"Mother...fucker," Jack growled angrily, his fist slamming into the mud as rain and thunder crashed overhead.

His eyes widened as he spotted flashlights in the distance, his cracked helmet display flickering with urgency. "Oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Surveying his belt lined with grenades, his holstered B3 Wingman, and the spitfire LMG slung over his shoulder, Jack knew he needed to assess his wound, check his magazines. The darkness of the forest closed in around him, a tangible threat lurking in every shadow.

Yet, he knew he didn't want to fight out here. He continued trekking through the forest, navigating the tangled undergrowth and slippery terrain with each step. His boots sank into the wet mud, dragging at his ankles like invisible hands pulling him down.

He raised his eyes to the heavens, seeking guidance from the moons and stars above, only to be met with the oppressive gloom of dark, swirling clouds. "Fuck, is there really no way for me to know where I am, specifically?" he muttered to himself, his voice lost in the wilderness.

Suddenly, a sound shattered the stillness of the night, and his heart leaped in his chest. The barking, loud and urgent, echoed through the trees, closer now. Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint, his jumpkit sputtering to life with a burst of orange flame, propelling him forward with a desperate urgency.

As he hurdled over obstacles and dodged the snapping jaws of a guard dog, a surge of adrenaline fueled his movements. "Holy shit, I didn't even know that drop was there!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

His eyes scanned the darkness ahead, searching for a path through the dense foliage. With a final leap, he cleared a thicket, landing with a thud on the forest floor. Blood trickled from his wounds, the cold seeping into his bones, but he pressed on, driven by an urgent need to warn others.

"I need to tell them... I need to tell them all!" he cried out, his voice trembling with fear beneath the dim glow of his helmet. "The aerial, it isn't Quiet Zero... holy shit, the fucking fools... Prospera is going to doom us all, Aiden."

Then, he saw her—the ghostly apparition of a little girl with fiery red hair tied in pigtails, clad in an ancient astronaut suit. She hovered before him, her presence ethereal and unsettling.

Jack recoiled, a sharp pain shooting through his head as blood dripped from his nose. "What the hell are you... my head, the nails!" he screamed, clutching at his skull and brandishing his pistol. "It was you... that thing within the Aerial!"

"I am not a thing," the girl spoke, her voice childlike yet chillingly composed. With her hands clasped behind her back and her gaze fixed on him with unnerving intensity, she declared, "I am Ericht."

Then, Jack's eyes grew wide. "You are…,"

…and then she was there, and then she wasn't. Before Jack could fully comprehend what had happened, he found himself alone in the darkened forest, the echo of barking dogs growing louder with each passing moment. He threw his head around, searching desperately for any sign of her presence, but she had vanished without a trace.

"Damn it all," he sneered, his heart pounding in his chest as he resumed his frantic sprint through the tangled undergrowth. Gripping Aiden's data knife tightly in his hand, he muttered, "It has everything... as long as Aiden gets this. As long as someone gets this... then maybe, the human race can be saved."

His thoughts drifted to his brothers, to Cecilia. Memories of her laughter, her smirk, and the gleam of her platinum hair flooded his mind. As he felt the warm sting of blood seeping from his wound, he welcomed the pain as a reminder of his own mortality, his own resilience. Tightening his grip on the LMG, he knew with a fierce certainty that he could still fight.

His brown eyes scanned the shadows, lingering on the memory of the girl, Ericht. Such an odd name, yet it stirred something within him. "When Ericht weeps, you shall cradle her sorrow," he murmured to himself, his fingers tracing the contours of his chin. "But that part... it was spoken to Oscar. What does Oscar have to do with Ericht and that girl... she looked so much like Suletta, it's uncanny. Maybe…"

A horrible thought crept into his mind, but he pushed it away. "Right now, it isn't the time for that," he muttered, pushing himself to keep running. Spotting a clearing in the distance, he recognized his surroundings.

Among the ruins of Harmony House's failed manor stood the remnants of another failed construction project—an apartment complex, worn down and weathered to a dull grey. With no cell signal, he knew he had to take a gamble.

Sighing heavily, he stepped into the open field, the hail turning to snow as he raced forward. But his sprint was interrupted by a piercing scream and the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Fuck!" Jack cursed under his breath, his heart racing as he turned to face the approaching group of five, their dogs snarling and snapping at his heels. Yet, Jack had faced worse foes in his time, and he steeled himself for the confrontation ahead.

He swung around and dropped to one knee, his LMG roaring to life as bullets tore through the air like a deadly storm. The dogs fell, their bodies torn apart until they lay still, nothing more than mangled carcasses in the snow.

Their masters, quick to realize the danger, met a similar fate as Jack's gunfire found its mark. Two of them fell, crimson staining the pristine white snow, while the others sought cover.

"Who the hell are these guys," Jack muttered as he pushed forward, making his way toward the ruined apartment complex. He vaulted over a broken window frame, the pain of his wound a dull ache that only fueled his determination. Peering cautiously, he observed their tactics. "They move like soldiers, with dogs... they were on me the moment I left. And they…"

His lips curled into a sneer. "Prospera, you lying bitch," he cursed under his breath, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Racing up the stairs, he heard the splintering of wood as the door gave way. "Fuck!" he shouted, sprinting ahead as a barrage of bullets chased him. With a swift motion, he returned fire, but the enemy seemed unrelenting.

Four of them should have been dead by now, he thought, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. More flashlights emerged in the distance, adding to his growing sense of dread. This apartment was a deathtrap, a realization dawning on him too late.

Undeterred, he pressed on, engaging in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Racing up the stairs, he exchanged gunfire with his adversaries, each tactical retreat met with less success. The odds were against him, but he refused to back down.

Going prone, he deployed his bipod, unleashing a barrage of bullets toward their hiding spots. With a well-aimed grenade, he forced them out of cover, the explosion rattling the building to its core.

"Shut," Jack muttered, frustration mounting as he realized his gun was empty. Sweat streamed down his face as he ripped off his helmet, the electrical glitches blurring his vision. He needed to focus, to find a way out of this deadly predicament before it was too late.

He stood amidst the biting cold, breath forming frosty clouds in the air, his boots sinking into the snow-covered floor of the decrepit apartment building. With a swift motion, he discarded his LMG and reached for his wingman, keeping his weapon trained on the staircase, poised for any sign of movement.

Moments later, the silence shattered with a deafening gunshot. The bullet found its mark, piercing through the man's throat, sending him tumbling down the stairs in a chaotic tumble. Meanwhile, Jack's fingers danced across the screen of his phone, the storm outside wreaking havoc on his already limited signal.

"Shoot," Jack cursed under his breath, frustration bubbling as he contemplated his options. Oscar was likely asleep, Deacon preoccupied with Aiden, and Aiden himself was in a medical coma. With only one bar of signal left, he knew he had to make it count.

As snowflakes danced across his touchscreen, he scrolled frantically until he found her name—Cecila.

With a quick swipe and a desperate prayer, he dialed her number, the phone ringing in his ear as he held his breath, hoping for a response.

…and she picked up.

"Cecila!" Jack exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. "I need help!" he shouted into the phone. "Get Aiden, or better yet, the Academy police. Tell them I'm trapped in the ruins of the old apartment building and—"

Before he could finish, two soldiers appeared, charging up the stairs towards him.

"Wh-what, J-a…ckie?" Cecila's voice crackled over the line. "A-re… y-ou... outside?"

Jack dispatched the first soldier with a single shot, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "Cecila, Quiet Zero is a lie!" he yelled, urgency lacing his voice. "Tell Aiden... tell everyone that Prospera Mercury is going to doom the human race! She doesn't understand the power of the weapon, the devastation it will bring. It won't just affect Earth—it will ripple through the entire Solar system, reaching even the deepest corners of the frontier. She's playing with fire, Cecila, a fate worse than—"

Before he could finish his warning, the second soldier charged at him, baton raised high. Jack aimed his gun, but it jammed at the crucial moment.

"Fuck!" he roared, his phone slipping from his grasp as the baton struck his shoulder with a brutal force. "Mother fucking cocksucker!" his voice echoed through the desolate expanse.

The figure before him was short but solid, yet Jack, tall and muscular, loomed over him with a menacing presence. With a swift blow, Jack's fist connected with a sickening crunch, sending the older man's helmet flying from his face. Another punch landed squarely, blood spattering as the force knocked him flat.

Goday Haimano, his name whispered on the wind, felt the bones in his nose shatter, bile rising in his throat as Jack's onslaught continued. A swift kick to the groin left him retching on the ground, vomit mingling with the snow beneath him. Another blow to the chest knocked the air from his lungs, leaving him wheezing and gasping for breath. But Jack wasn't finished. A final kick to the face sent Goday sprawling, helpless and defeated.

As Goday lay wheezing in the snow, Jack's breath echoed in the silence that followed. With a grim determination, he retrieved his revolver, loading the bullets into the chamber. Surveying the landscape around him, Jack noticed the absence of lights and the eerie quiet that had settled over the scene.

"The sons of Jack Cooper show no mercy," he sneered, advancing on Goday. "I remember you. You led me, Aiden, and Prospera to the dueling committee." Drawing his combat knife, he pressed the steel against Goday's chin. "You're coming with me to Harmony House. You're going to spill everything about Prospera's plans and more."

As Jack rose from the ground, his gun and knife at the ready, a sense of triumph filled him. The data knife contained all the evidence they needed to expose the truth. "Aiden, Cecilia, even…" His thoughts drifted to Suletta, her enigmatic presence lingering in his mind. "You'll all know the truth."

Suletta. Why had he included her? He hadn't cared for her before... but perhaps that mysterious girl from Mercury had finally won him over.

With a sense of triumph, Jack muttered to himself, "Cecilia, I've won," his thoughts drifting back to her once more, to the memory of her lying beneath his blanket. In that moment, he felt young and invincible, a rush of euphoria coursing through him.

Nude and the only thing covering her breast was his sheets, and he could remember how before all this…how he had watched himself leak out of her. She said before that it was annoying to clean and she only did it for special occasions, but even she would cry out gratefully when it happened.

"I wo…" Jack's words were cut short as a sniper's bullet pierced his left eye, tearing through his skull in a burst of blood and brain matter. His body crumpled to the ground, blood staining the pristine snow, a stark contrast to his lover's hair.

Goday stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the horror unfolding before him, his breath visible in the cold air. One moment, he was there, and the next...

Static crackled from his walkie-talkie, a cacophony of agony and despair assaulting his ears. With trembling hands, he reached for the device. "What in God's name…" he murmured, his voice thick with dread.

"No gratitude for saving your skin?" came the reply, cold and detached.

Goday's lip curled in anger. "Who are you?" he demanded, his words punctuated by blood and pain. "I lost good men for this. I've never heard your voice among my ranks. Who sent you?"

There was a pause before the voice answered. "An independent contractor, hired by Prospera," it said, the words dripping with malice.

Meanwhile, a mile away, Conner sat in a makeshift cabin, his eyes fixed on a Kraber .50-cal Sniper. The weapon's barrel still smoked; its bipod anchored against the window frame. His breath was ragged as he peered through the scope.

"Radio Prospera," he muttered, his voice heavy with emotion. "Tell her the job's done. Jack is dead."

Goday watched Conner, a sense of unease settling over him. "Dirty work," he muttered, shaking his head as he began to descend the stairs. But the scent of death lingered in the air, a grim reminder of Prospera's ruthlessness.

As Conner switched off the radio, tears welled in his eyes, mingling with the rain streaming down his face. "Why, Jack," he whispered, his voice choked with sorrow. "She promised us vengeance, our greatest dream. And now..."

His words were drowned out by the sound of rain, washing away the blood and sin, but never the memory of what had transpired.

Connor's breath was heavy and hard. He needed to grab this rifle and dispose of it, likewise, he needed to retreat to House Harmony. Prospera, already promised him an alibi. He arose from his seat, draped on his coat, and gazed back at the ruins for a moment.

Tears ran down his cheeks. Memories of training and fighting together along his mind's eye, and Jack's smile…that smile. He would go to his grave thinking of that smile. Connor knew that he needed to avenge harmony. But…he murdered one of its last sons, his brothers, he was a Kin slayer now. For what, in the sake of revenge?

"For harmony," He muttered, and his mind drawn to all the dead. "For the militia," He struggled with the words. Remembering of the cruel surgeries and waking up with a throbbing pain in his head as eighty other boys alike to him were tossed in bags…those that didn't survive the surgery. "For Marko…and the legion." He spoke curtly and hard.

…and his mind drawn to them all. A roaming band of raiders, brigands, convicts, war criminals, rapist, and the scourge of society. All that remined of their great culture.

Young angry men fighting a war that was already lost.

Violence, war, hate…revenge, always revenge. A lesson that was forever taught, but always the wrong lesson.