Rain slicked the streets of Prague, and steam curled from the vents in the ground like the breath of a sleeping giant. The alley stank of blood and fire. The concrete beneath Bob's boots was cracked and stained red, smeared with the remnants of his latest 'visit.'
Another hideout. Another den of predators and traffickers. All dead.
The final body still twitched behind him, slumped against the wall like discarded meat. Bob didn't look back. He didn't need to. The darkness moved with him, swallowed the sin in silence.
Two hundred and fifty-six.
That was the number now.
256 names, burned off the Earth like a cleansing purge. It wasn't vengeance. It wasn't redemption. It was necessity.
He was getting closer.
And yet… still no Lucien.
Bob stepped into the alley between buildings, the rain hissing off his shoulders, the shadows curling around his form like they belonged there. He exhaled, muscles tense, eyes scanning—
Then he stopped.
He wasn't alone.
There was someone at the far end of the alley.
A figure standing beneath the flickering light of a crooked lamppost. Hood up. Still.
Bob tensed. His fingers twitched. The shadows responded at once.
The figure stepped forward.
And pulled the hood down.
Lena.
Same piercing blue eyes. Same sharp focus. But her face, her face looked different. Tired. Sad. Hardened by something she hadn't said yet.
Bob didn't say a word.
Neither did she.
The rain kept falling between them, like a curtain of mist and memory.
Finally, she stepped closer. Her voice was soft but carried weight.
"I was told to find you," she said. "But I didn't come for orders."
Bob's jaw clenched. "Then why?"
Lena looked at him. And for once, she didn't look like a soldier. She looked like a woman who'd been carrying something too long.
"Because you're losing yourself," she said.
Bob didn't flinch. But his eyes burned hotter in the dark.
"I'm getting closer."
"At what cost?" she asked. "You've killed over two hundred people. You think Alex won't find out?"
Bob turned his head slightly, avoiding her gaze. "I don't care."
She stepped closer still.
"I saw what you did in Istanbul. You ripped a man apart in front of his daughter."
"He was scum," Bob replied.
"He was still a man."
"No," Bob said, eyes meeting hers again. "He was a doorway. And Lucien is behind one of them. Somewhere. i need to find him, i need to find... Alex."
Lena's voice dropped.
"What happens when you open that last door, Bob? What's left of you after that?"
The rain grew heavier. Bob didn't answer.
And Lena took one more step forward, into the shadows themselves. Into his space.
"I didn't come to stop you," she said, quieter. "I just came to say… if you die doing this, I hope it's worth it."
Then she paused.
"And if you live… don't forget who you were before Rafael Azar came back."
Bob looked down, at the wet ground, the glistening alley, the blood on his boots.
He didn't speak. But he didn't need to.
Because in that silence, Lena had said everything.
And then, without another word, she turned, and walked out of the alley.
Bob stood in the rain. The fire behind him still burned. The shadows clung to his shoulders.
And his eyes, crimson with purpose never blinked.
Lucien was close.
The God of Wrath had no intention of stopping now.
…
The rain hadn't stopped.
It fell like cold needles, turning the street outside the alley into a river of reflections—red, gold, and black. Rafael Azar stepped out from the shadows like a living ghost, blood still staining his knuckles, smoke curling off his shoulders like an aura of violence.
And waiting for him… were three familiar faces.
Ryan.
Selena.
Beth.
They stood on the edge of the sidewalk, beneath the flickering light of a rusted streetlamp. None of them looked surprised to see him. But none of them looked ready either.
Ryan stepped forward first. "Jesus, man."
Bob didn't stop walking. His boots slapped the wet pavement, slow and steady. Controlled rage in motion.
"You look like hell," Ryan muttered. "Worse than usual."
Bob didn't answer.
Beth stepped in next, her voice sharper. "Bob. Stop. Just stop for one damn second."
He stopped.
The rain poured around them. Bob lifted his head. His eyes burned like dying suns, tired, furious, and terrifying.
Beth's tone cracked. "Do you know how long we've been trying to find you? After that call—"
"They took him."
That was all he had said.
Beth's hands balled into fists at her sides. "And then you just hung up. You left us in the dark."
Selena's voice, usually soft, cut through the air like ice. "You've killed hundreds, Bob. Underground bar, Eastern syndicate, Helvault outpost, hell, you burned the Skarn cartel alive in their sleep. That's not justice. That's... inhumane."
Bob didn't flinch. "I am inhumane."
"No," Ryan said, stepping forward, soaked but unshaken. "You trained Alex. You protected him. You called him your family. You called us your friends. i don't believe that. You're just... lost."
Bob's jaw clenched. The flicker of something real passed across his face, but it didn't soften him. Not anymore.
"That's the thing, if i would've done this from the start," he said, voice low and dangerous. "He'd still be here."
Beth shook her head. "So what? you're just gonna burn the world to find him?"
"Yes..."
Selena stepped closer, her coat clinging to her shoulders in the rain. Her voice lowered. "We're not asking you to stop. Just… don't do it alone."
Bob looked at them. Really looked.
Beth's trembling hands.
Ryan's clenched jaw.
Selena's eyes, brimming with unshed tears.
They weren't soldiers. Not like him.
But they were his people.
Alex's people.
And Rafael… Bob… he had trained Alex to fight. He had taught him pain, resilience, the burden of power. But Bob failed him.
And now here they were, these three kids standing in the storm, soaked to the bone, trying to talk down a man who'd killed 256 of the world's most dangerous villains without blinking.
Bob's fists clenched. His voice was quiet, too calm. "You're not ready. You'll only slow me down."
Beth opened her mouth, but Bob continued before she could speak. "I don't need a strategist. I don't need charm. And I definitely don't need a goddamn torch."
Ryan stepped forward, brows furrowed. "Torch?"
"I work alone now," Bob muttered, turning away from them, walking toward the alley again, vanishing into the shadows. "You're all too weak."
The street lit up in red.
FWOOOM.
A fireball streaked through the air and slammed into the wall just beside Bob, sending cinders and heat flaring outward.
He stopped.
The brick where the fireball hit steamed in the rain. Bob slowly turned around.
Ryan was standing there, hand still raised, flames licking off his knuckles, eyes burning with defiance.
"You son of a bitch," Ryan growled. "YOU trained US. You think we'd let you fall off the edge and burn alone? We're not some stupid kids, who'll hold you back."
Bob stared at him, unmoving.
Ryan didn't flinch. "You think you're the only one hurting? You think we don't miss him too? That we didn't spend the last days wondering if he's dead, or tortured, or worse?"
Selena stepped forward, her voice smooth but cold. "You think calling us weak will make us walk away? Bob... You're just a man, not some kind of god."
Beth was quiet for a second. Then she pulled her tablet from her coat, fingers flying across the screen. "I intercepted a transmission last night. Data trail matched the Order's comm protocols. Lucien's base of operations is moving every seventy-two hours, but I found a gap. A repeating path. I can give you a ninety-eight percent accurate location… unless you want to just keep killing until you guess right."
Bob looked at each of them.
Then at Ryan.
"You fire another one of those at me, kid…" he said slowly.
Ryan smirked. "What? You'll kill me too? Do it. If it means you'll calm down. Take that anger out on me."
He barely finished the sentence.
Wind tore through the alley. A blur of movement, quicker than a blink, sharper than a bullet, rushed forward.
Bob moved.
In a matter of milliseconds, the space between them vanished. One second Ryan was standing tall, smug, fire still crackling in his palm—
—The next, Bob was right in front of him.
Ryan didn't even have time to flinch.
Bob leaned in, close enough that only Ryan could hear. His voice wasn't rough, or cruel. It was quiet. And intentional.
Just a few words.
Then he was gone.
Swallowed by shadow.
Vanished back into the night like a phantom. The steam where he had been still curled up in the rain.
Beth blinked. "What the hell just—"
Ryan held up a hand. Still watching the empty space where Bob had stood. Then—
He chuckled. Just once. A short, breathy laugh.
Selena raised a brow. "Did he threaten you?"
Ryan shook his head and turned to face them. "No. He didn't threaten me."
Beth stepped closer. "Then what did he say?"
Ryan looked between the two of them, his usual smirk curling back onto his lips.
"He has a plan." He cracked his neck. "And he needs our help."
A beat passed. The rain kept falling.
Selena straightened, all the flirt gone from her face, replaced with steel. "Then we get ready."
Beth's fingers flew over her tablet. "I'll trace every satellite pulse on the Order's last three comm relays. We'll find them."
Ryan's hands ignited again.
"Time to bring Alex home."