The convoy spent the night amid ruins. Richard and Yura took turns on watch while the rest either sat or lay in their vehicles, wrapped in blankets or sleeping bags. Inside the cage, the woman known as Ricochet softly hummed a tune—fragmented, trembling with cold.

  “Cut it out,” Malik grunted. He had to drive at dawn and wanted to sleep. “Louis, do something to make her shut up.”

  Tyto turned and glanced over. Her eyes were half-open, head swaying gently, lips curled into a faint dreamlike smile.

  “This isn’t a standard sedative,” he said. “She’s high.”

  Louis looked guilty. “HQ got the report on today. They sent back revised protocol—stronger meds. This mix keeps her motor functions but disables Gift activation. Some side effects are normal. She’ll adjust.”

  Tyto’s frown deepened.

  “My team never allowed this. Too unstable.”

  “Come on, man. We don’t write protocols, we follow them. That’s always been the job,” Louis said.

  “Truth is,” Tyto muttered, “we don’t even know what her Gift is. That bothers me.”

  “Maybe the boss knows, but he hasn’t told us anything,” Malik chimed in.

  “You’ve done more black work than all of us combined,” Louis said, half-joking, half-hopeful. “If this goes bad, we’re counting on you.”

  Tyto thought: Giftborn are harder to handle than any black op. But he said nothing.

  Then Malik leaned from the front seat. “The thing with Valniev… that wasn’t you, was it?”

  Tyto looked up, sharp. Malik flinched and ducked back down.

  “No offense. Just wondering.”

  Louis tried to smooth things over.

  “Look, we’re not dumb. You’re the only one from the company operating in Belvaria right now who could pull something like that off. So we figured…”

  Tyto rolled into his sleeping bag. “Aren’t you two going to sleep?”

  He threw the blanket over his face, ending the conversation. Louis and Malik exchanged a look and gave up.

  In the dark, Ricochet stopped humming. Her eyes stayed open.

  Tyto never slept deeply during missions. He sensed the blanket being lifted—carefully—and tugged away. His instincts snapped awake. He burst from the bag without a sound, gun drawn and leveled.

  “Who is it?” he said sharply.

  The rustling continued. Ricochet’s voice came soft through the dark:

  “Someone about to freeze to death.”

  The other two snored on.

  She said nothing else, curling into a corner of the G63, wrapped in the stolen blanket, staring up at his pistol. Tyto noted the clarity in her eyes. Had she shaken off the drug?

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  He watched her for a moment, then holstered the weapon.

  “Keep it.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, eyes lowered to the floor.

  He lay back down, retrieved a spare blanket from under the seat, and pulled it over his sleeping bag.

  “Next time, ask.”

  “…I wasn’t trying to wake you.” The voice was barely audible.

  At dawn, they began preparing to move. The team was busy—checking maps, wiping tracks, clearing debris, counting ammo and supplies. They were headed into a patchwork of factions with no promise of resupply.

  Tyto sat near the Land Cruiser, cigarette between his lips, maintaining his weapon. He watched Louis approach her again with the syringe. She was wrapped in the blanket she’d taken last night. Her eyes drooped as she stared down at the injection. Quiet. As if whoever she had been last night had vanished.

  Then she looked up.

  Her gaze found him—then faltered, softened, drifted. She tilted her head back slightly. For the first time, Tyto saw the face beneath the dust and bruises—and it was beautiful.

  He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  The team turned. After days of tension and silence, the presence of a woman—even a captive—sparked something ugly.

  “I bet,” Viktor said, “right now you could do whatever you want to her.” He grinned.

  Louis, without looking up from the cold box, said, “Watch it. HQ wants her alive—and intact.”

  “So you’re saying we just can’t break her?” Yura said. The others laughed.

  Crack.

  A dry gunshot snapped through the ruins, kicking up dirt inches from their feet. Laughter turned to shouts. Viktor hit the ground. Tyto calmly took a final drag from his cigarette, then snuffed it out. He wiped down his pistol.

  “Don’t panic. Just testing the gun.”

  “Was that necessary?!” Viktor barked.

  “You could’ve fired a blank!” Richard stormed out of the Unimog, face dark.

  “Slipped,” Tyto said, brushing dust from his jacket.

  “I needed to speak to you anyway, Captain.”

  Richard’s mood improved slightly at the word “Captain.”

  “Then come to the lead vehicle.”

  Tyto followed. The others parted without a word. Louis watched him go, face unreadable.

  Once inside the Unimog, Tyto said flatly, “Where do you find these idiots?”

  Working with idiots was one thing. Watching them screw up under someone else’s name? Worse.

  “You saying I can’t lead?” Richard snapped.

  “Not at all. I want to check the orders Spiral Matrix sent. About the meds.”

  Richard hesitated, then pulled up the logs on the satcomm terminal. Tyto scanned the entries, then turned to him.

  “Did you verify the shipment contents?”

  “…No. I handed them to Louis. Those drug names make my head spin.”

  “Here’s the problem.” Tyto tapped the screen.

  “This hallucinogen? Low-priority. Optional use only. High risk.”

  “You’re saying Louis made that call on his own?” Richard frowned.

  “Who gave him that authority?”

  “Looks like he gave it to himself.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Richard muttered. “Unless… you’d rather handle it?”

  “You’re not reporting this?” Tyto narrowed his eyes.

  Richard glared, then softened.

  “I get it. You work alone. You don’t know these men. But we’re heading into hot territory. I can’t have this convoy turn into a den of snitches.”

  “Your call.” Tyto didn’t argue.

  “Tell me her Gift.”

  “I don’t know. HQ didn’t say. Only that she’s dangerous and needs containment.”

  “Then how’d you catch her?”

  “A raid. Safehouse in Tusk. We gassed the vents first. She didn’t resist—no time.”

  “She doesn’t seem careless,” Tyto said, frowning. “Who gave you the safehouse location?”

  “HQ. We just followed orders.”

  “Which means Spiral Matrix didn’t trust you to handle her in open combat.”

  “That’s why they sent you, right?” Richard said, half-grinning, patting him on the shoulder.

  “Maybe. Don’t assume I’m infallible.”

  But Richard did. Everyone did.

  Rumors said Tyto was Giftborn, too.

  “Rumor says you’ve got a Gift,” Richard said. “No offense. I mean, if you do—could you guess hers?”

  Tyto closed his eyes, searching memory. Her body was weak. Too weak for a field agent, even a Giftborn. She took the food without protest. Curled into the blanket. Hummed that strange song. Her eyes held something hazy. Not quite pain. Not quite defiance.

  He opened his eyes.

  “I’ll say what I think. You judge for yourself.”

  “Go on.”

  “…Allure.”