Answers weren’t any more forthcoming over the next few days that followed.


    Jon, in particular, had taken to visiting the tunnels whenever he could, as if hoping he might catch something out of place if he went down there frequently and suddenly enough. But in the three days since they’d first been down there, in which Jon had headed down six more times, he’d found nothing out of place. Only once did he return with something and it was a Rubiks cube he’d found in a backpack aboard the train, a cube Jin quickly took interest in.


    They also hadn’t been able to unearth anything on the missing kids, even while coordinating their investigations with Chancellor Bridge, who’d let them look through district security footage on the nights when a disappearance had been reported. Andre and Chloe had the keener eyes of the group so it was them who combed through the footage over and over again and not once did either of them spot anything that looked out of place.


    “Doesn’t mean much though,” Andre said, after another disappointing attempt at looking through security footage. “This stuff can be edited, cut perfectly, especially by an expert.”


    “Wouldn’t they know if someone was tampering with security footage?” Chloe asked, frowning.


    Andre shrugged. “Not if it was an inside job.”


    After that, they gave up on looking through the footage, all of them in agreement that there was not much that could be found there. Even Jon, over the next couple days, started to grow tired of exploring the tunnel and looking for alternative entrances and exits. On the fifth day, he returned to the orphanage sweaty and stained in soot. He joined them in the living room, collapsing on the floor against a couch before saying:


    “Is there at all a chance that what we’re looking for might not even be in the district anymore? For all we know, whatever or whoever was responsible for the kids and the attacks might have moved on elsewhere, right?”


    When he said this, they all exchanged looks. No one said anything. In truth, that possibility was one they’d all considered, one they’d all tried to convince themselves couldn’t have been the case, simply because it would be frustrating if all of this ended in futility. Missing children, dead Pandorans. That wasn’t something they could just leave be.


    “We’ll keep looking,” Chloe said. “Something has to turn up. Something has to.”


    The following day, once the kids had had breakfast, Lucas got up and mentioned he was heading out.


    “Where are you going?” Aiden asked.


    “Out.” Lucas shrugged. “Nowhere exactly. I just need to take a walk. Don’t think I could go another day right now of being on babysitting duty or waiting for answers to present themselves. I need air.”


    “You want someone with you?” Aiden asked.


    “Nah.” Lucas shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Shouldn’t be gone too long.”


    He left afterward and he knew the others had been a little worried about him when he was leaving, knew they must have been exchanging glances behind his back the same way they had been doing every day since Spike had died. He’d been happy to act oblivious to all of those exchanged looks and the secret conversations about whether or not he was handling things particularly well, simply because he knew they meant well.


    But being cooped up was starting to get to him, and it was becoming a little harder every day to pretend like he didn’t want to rip Jin’s throat out every time he saw her. He’d accepted, like the others had, that she was of some use to them. But it’d been five days now since Jon and the others had gone in the tunnel and there’d still been nothing. What use was she if she couldn’t turn up some answers?


    Every part of him felt as though there were a chance she might have known what was going on and that she was content to let them walk around in circles while things got even worse. But saying something, anything about that would have made the others think his head wasn’t quite where it needed to be just yet.


    And maybe they were right. Maybe it wasn’t. Hence, the walk.


    He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he had nowhere in particular that he wanted to head to. He simply just made his way out of the orphanage and started going, taking a few turns whenever he started to feel like he’d been going in a straight line too long. All the while, he kept his hands in his pockets, eyes trained at the ground, only looking up every now and then at the market stalls he went by, at the shops in the district which had very few items on display, at the children who moved around in timid groups, at the rotating security cameras whose infrared lights blinked away every couple seconds.


    Whenever he did glance up, he’d notice a couple eyes focused on him. Sometimes, it was the timid children. Other times, it was wary civilians. Each time, they’d glance away once they knew he’d seen them. He knew they weren’t following him. They were just people concerned either about what he was or what he might have been trying to do.


    He was used to looks like those. Back when he’d first become a Pandoran, he’d gotten even worse looks. They still got those looks sometimes, especially when they were seen feeding on blood. Few people actually cared that all they were doing was trying to help—they saw Pandorans and thought of them as abominations, just as bad as the mindless monsters whose plague had decimated much of the world.


    He might have earned a lot less odd looks if he hadn’t left the orphanage in his gear but in truth, he cared incredibly little about the looks or the thoughts that must have accompanied them. He cared incredibly little about most things now.


    People had always had their prejudices. It didn’t bother him much that even at the end of the world, people still sought out things to hate.


    A little while later, he picked up the scents of lilacs and roses, and glanced up to find a flowershop just ahead of him, flowers in pots put up on display. A tall-dark haired man tended to the shop.


    Curiously drawn by the scent, Lucas followed it, making his way toward the shop. He arrived outside the shop and peered in at the flower bouquets inside. He studied the flowers in the pots too, bringing his face particularly close to one and sniffing. The fragrance was overwhelmingly sweet and his mouth watered slightly in a most unusual manner since the scent of most things that weren’t blood typically left him nauseated.


    “Uhm, can I help you?” asked the man who tended to the shop, brown eyes studying Lucas curiously.


    “Are these natural?” Lucas asked, gesturing to the flowers. “They smell…really good.”


    “Sure are.” The man beamed proudly, folding his arms. “Grew ‘em myself.”


    “Why?” Lucas asked with a frown, diverting his attention to the shopkeeper. “Surely, there can’t be a whole lot of market for this, right? No way people are going around buying flowers.”


    “I’m not doing it for the business,” the man said and snorted. “It’s a hobby. I do it for the peacefulness of it.”


    “Uh-huh,” Lucas said, running a finger along a lilac petal, eyes trained on it.


    He went from pot to pot, observing the various flowers and noting their scents, from the spring-like scent of daffodils to the slightly herbal fragrance of lavender. This wasn’t something he’d ever done, largely because he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d come across flowers, the last time he’d even smelled them.


    It didn’t last very long however since after about five minutes, he suddenly became rather conscious that someone was watching him. Not in the same way others had given him looks prior, no. He could almost sense the intensity of focus on him, could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He straightened to his feet and with a frown on his face, he turned around.


    Across the street from the flower shop was a small stall with watermelons and pineapples on display. Standing there, at the stall, clad in a brilliant blue T-shirt and a pair of gray shorts, along with a pair of rubber slippers was a tall girl with auburn hair, striking blue eyes and a face dotted with freckles in a manner that somehow made her look all the more beautiful.


    Lucas met her blue eyes and his frown became sharper. It became even sharper still when the girl started to walk toward him, a smile on her face as she slipped her hands into her pockets.


    “I’d go with the marigold,” she said once she was right in front of him. Up close, he could smell her. She smelled just as fragrant as the flowers he’d been looking at. Perhaps even more so.


    His mouth went a little dry. “Sorry?”


    “Marigold,” she repeated, gesturing past him to one of the flowers on display, one a fiery orange color that made him think of autumn. “It suits you, I think.”


    “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m not here for flowers. I was just looking.”


    “You do that often?” she asked.


    “Well, no, I haven’t uhh…I haven’t seen any in a while.” He frowned at the girl. “Who are you?” He queried. “What do you want?”


    “I thought you looked a little cute sniffing at the flowers like that,” the girl answered with a hearty chuckle, her eyes twinkling as she laughed. “I’m sorry if I was staring…it’s just, it’s incredibly rare to come across someone who stops to look at the flowers, especially with how grim things have been lately.”


    “Oh.”


    “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” the girl asked, frowning at him. “You’re part of that special unit everyone’s been talking about, aren’t you? The soldiers from the Capital?”


    “Word sure travels around fast, doesn’t it?”


    “Everyone’s on edge. Can’t blame them.”


    “Are you?” Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who’s on edge.”


    “Well, you know what they say.” She smiled. “Appearances can be deceiving. I mean, you’ve got that weary, gloomy demeanor about you and yet, here you are, stopping to smell the flowers.”


    “Well, you haven’t got the sort of demeanor of a person who wants fruits either.”


    The girl laughed again. “Really? What’s a person who wants fruits look like?”


    “I don’t know.” Lucas shrugged. “Hungry, I guess?”


    She continued to laugh and after a few seconds, Lucas found himself joining in. About ten seconds later, the laughter slowed to a halt and their eyes met. For about five seconds, they simply stared at each other in total silence, and then she broke the silence by snorting.


    “Wow, you really suck at this, don’t you?”


    “Suck at what?”


    “Talking,” she answered.


    Lucas scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uhh—,”


    “Here, I’ll take the lead.” The girl cleared her throat then extended a hand to Lucas, smiling as she did. “Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Kaia.”


    ***


    Despite knowing almost for certain at this point that there was nothing in the tunnels, Jon found himself heading back there as soon as night fell on the District. Accompanying him this time was Andre.


    The district went rather quiet at night. In fact, the streets were often bare at this time, except of course, for a few people returning home after closing up their market stalls and the shops they owned. As with the previous times when he’d gone to the tunnel at night, the faces he saw outside were the same—the same shop owners, the same vendors. Not one face out of place.


    When he and Andre arrived at the entrance to the tunnel, someone was already there, clad in black, standing with fists at her side, scabbard dangling from her waist.


    “Yuri?” Jon frowned when he saw her. “What are you doing here?”


    Yuri turned to face him, a slightly surprised expression on her face. Jon thought her eyes looked a little more sunken now, sallow almost, and she looked gaunt. She looked back to the tunnel entrance.


    “There’s something down there,” she said, her voice slightly coarse.


    “What are you talking about?” Jon exchanged a concerned glance with Andre before moving toward Yuri. “Is there something you haven’t told us about?”


    “No.” She shook her head. “I just know. There’s something there. The others…they can’t be dead. They have to be down there somehow. I have to find them. I have to make it right.”


    “Make it right?” Jon repeated, a dark look sweeping across his face. “What—,”


    Before he could finish, Yuri went forward, starting down the stairs and descending into the subway. Jon made to follow but Andre grabbed his arm, holding him back.


    “Dude.” Andre’s expression was wary. “Do you trust her?”


    Jon met Andre’s eyes. “She’s lying about something,” Jon said. “But I do trust that she’s doing it for a good reason.”


    “What if she’s right?” Andre asked, his face turning dark as he looked back toward the tunnel entrance. “What if there’s something down there right now?” His voice was grim. “If there is, we shouldn’t be going in just the two of us. We need the others.”


    “We don’t have enough time to go get them,” Jon said. “We leave her down there, there’s no telling what could happen to her.”


    Andre bit down hard on his lips, a slight hint of doubt and fear in his eyes. The look in his eyes lingered for a few seconds then he drew a deep breath and nodded, before putting on a wide smile, his eyes twinkling. “Alright then,” he said. “Long as we’re on the same page and know exactly what we might be walking into here. Anything happens to either one of us down there, it’s not on the other. Deal?”


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    “Deal.” Jon nodded. He slipped his hand into his left pocket, retrieved a dark vial filled with blood, one that he offered to Andre. “But just in case,” he said. “We get in any trouble down there, drink this.”


    Andre accepted the vial with a look of suspicion. “This is Jin’s—,”


    “Yes,” Jon said.


    “Right.” Andre drew another deep breath, peering down into the dark of the subway tunnel. He slipped the vial into his pocket “Alright then, let’s follow the crazy ex-captain.”


    Jon nudged Andre in the shoulder and shot him a disapproving look. “She’s not crazy.”


    Andre snorted. “Sure thing.”


    Together, the two of them descended into the tunnel, both of them equipping their flashlights and turning them on once they were down in the dark of the tunnel. Some distance ahead of them was Yuri, aiming her flashlight in every direction, examining every inch of the tunnel closely as they passed through.


    “Listen,” she said from up ahead, but didn’t stop walking.


    Jon frowned. “To what?”


    “Nothing,” she answered. “But listen. Really listen. Keep listening, you’ll see what I mean when we get to it.”


    Jon exchanged looks with Andre again. The both of them shrugged but did exactly as Yuri had instructed. They listened, focusing intensely on their hearing. The distant scurrying of rodents became much louder, the scratching of their tiny little feet against the train tracks and sidewalks. They could hear the gentle breeze from up above too and if they listened hard enough, they could make out heartbeats from the people in the district, distinct heartbeats all blending together.


    Still listening, they continued forward. All three of them stopped once they reached the scene, the bloodstains there just as Jon remembered it. They lingered at the scene for only a moment before Yuri continued forward. Jon and Andre followed.


    Only three minutes later, Jon came to a halt, as did Andre. Jon’s eyes went a little wide with confusion and he turned around, staring at the tunnel walls and at the ceiling, darkly confused. Andre looked the same.


    “Do you see now?” Yuri asked.


    Jon couldn’t hear anything anymore. He couldn’t hear the heartbeats above or the breeze, couldn’t hear the scurrying of rodents, nothing. With a dark expression on his face, he started to retreat. He took about six steps backward before halting again.


    The sound had returned.


    “Holy shit,” he murmured, eyes widening even further. “How’s that happening?”


    “This section of tunnel’s reinforced, I think,” Yuri answered. “I’ve been places before where my hearing was dulled.”


    Jon thought back to Capital, and the reinforced building where they’d met with the Council. But he hadn’t come across anything like that here.


    “This is about where the blood trails vanish too,” Andre murmured, glancing around. He moved his flashlight about. After a quick search, he let the beam of his flashlight hover above a section of wall on the left side of the tunnel. With a frown on his face, he made his way toward the wall. Jon and Yuri followed.


    Andre stopped at the wall, frowned and placed a hand to it, pressing his ear against the wall. He moved along the wall, tracing his hand along then repeated the same movement the other way. He did the same a third time then stopped at a point, his face darkening. He balled one hand into a fist and without warning, slammed it into the wall.


    His fist connected with a loud, hollow thud. His face darkened even further and he turned back to look at Jon and Yuri.


    “There’s something there,” he declared. “Something past this wall.”


    “Together,” Jon said, joining Andre at the wall. Yuri joined them too.


    The three of them exchanged nods with one another before throwing themselves against the wall, slamming into it shoulder first. Once more came the hollow thud and Jon thought he could hear it echo somewhat just past the hall. There was a lot of space behind it.


    Again they threw themselves at it and did so about five more times before growing frustrated and resorting to slamming fist after fist against it. This, they kept up for ten minutes before Yuri yelled in frustration and started to kick furiously at the wall, both Jon and Andre exchanging looks and backing away from her slightly.


    Once it’d set in for her that kicking wasn’t doing much good, she growled loudly and then dropped to the ground, sitting with her back to the wall.


    “What are you doing?” Jon queried.


    “Waiting,” Yuri growled. “If there’s something past this wall, whatever or whoever it is has gotta come out eventually. I’ll be here when they do.”


    “No.” Jon shook his head. “We’re not doing that. Mark it.”


    “What?” Yuri frowned.


    “Your sword,” Jon instructed. “Mark the wall. We leave and come right back with Chloe and Jin and the others. There’s a pretty good chance Jin might be strong enough to take it down.”


    “Or we could just use the vials now,” Andre suggested.


    Jon shook his head. “Those, we reserve only for battle. We use it now, no telling when it might wear off and I’d rather not take any chances with whatever’s past the wall. Mark it and then we go get the cavalry.”


    Yuri nodded and returned to her feet. She reached for her scabbard and unsheathed her blade, a 45-inch long blade with silver that shone rather dangerously in the dark, its edges looking sharp enough to cut through flesh with ease.


    Jon raised an eyebrow at the sight of the blade. It was perfect. Too perfect. Its edges were perfectly even, free from nicks or chips in the metal that ought have come with usage. It was free of scratches too and the leather wrapping of the blade’s hilt looked all too good.


    Jon’s gaze shifted from the blade to Yuri, a single thought running through his head then.


    The blade hadn’t been used before.


    Yuri put the point of the sword to the wall and in two simple gestures, marked an X onto it before sheathing the sword once more. She turned then to find Jon staring at her, eyes oddly focused as the gears of his mind whirred.


    “What?” she asked, frowning.


    Jon cleared his throat. “Nothing,” he said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”


    They started back the way they’d come, heading for the exit. As they went, Jon thought about Yuri’s sword. He glanced over at her, found her with her face trained down at the ground, one hand over her scabbard.


    “How many of those have you got?” he queried, gesturing toward the scabbard. “A collection? Or just the one?”


    “Just the one.” Yuri looked at him. “Not exactly easy to come across one these days. Most people aren’t bothering with them.”


    “Uh-huh.” Jon nodded. “How effective is it against the Servants? Does it slow you down when you use it?”


    Yuri’s face darkened slightly at the question and her eyes narrowed almost knowingly. She diverted her gaze from Jon’s at once. “Uh, yeah,” she answered then quickly, added: “I mean, no. It doesn’t slow me down.”


    Jon said nothing else of the sword. But it made sense to him now, made sense to him exactly what had happened down there with Yuri’s unit, made sense how she’d survived, and why she blamed herself.


    They were halfway to the exit when Jon heard the footsteps. As soon as he heard them he came to a sudden halt, a shiver running down his spine. Andre and Yuri halted too.


    The three of them turned around, looking in the direction from which the footsteps came. In the darkness of the shadows, Jon made out three distinct shapes moving, getting closer and closer to them. He aimed his flashlight ahead, right at the three shapes.


    They were human. Or at least they looked human. He couldn’t tell for sure since all three were clad in black bodysuits that looked almost military, with oddly-shaped helmets that blinked red at the ears.


    “It’s them,” Yuri croaked.


    Jon looked at her, saw her take one step backward, her eyes going wide, face contorting with an expression of horror, her jaw slacking somewhat. “It’s them,” she said again, her lips trembling this time. “It’s them.”


    Jon stepped forward, placing himself in front of Yuri. He glanced sideways. “It’s alright,” he said, his tone soft.


    “No.” Yuri shook her head. She dropped to her knees. “Not again.”


    “What the hell’s happening to her?” Andre demanded. “What are you doing?! Get up! Fight!”


    “Andre!” Jon yelled, dashing forward quickly enough to push Andre out of the way just as one of the Helmets surged at him in a blur of movement.


    The Helmet’s fist connected with nothing but air but the impact still sent out a strong gust of wind that whipped about the tunnel, causing Jon’s eyes to go wide.


    The Helmet scoffed, then turned its head in Yuri’s direction. “Pathetic,” came a raspy, distorted-sounding voice. “Utterly pathetic.”


    “What are you?” Jon demanded, fists clenched at his side.


    The Helmet shifted its attention to Jon. “Evolution,” it answered. Then it vanished.


    A fraction of a second later, a fist connected with his stomach, the impact sending blood spurting from his mouth and sending him hurtling through the air like a projectile. Jon flipped over multiple times as he shot through the air before managing to find the train tracks with his feet, digging in deep and bringing himself to a stop.


    Just as soon as he’d stopped, he glanced ahead to see two of the Helmets blurring toward him. Instinctively, he attempted to leap backward and out of the way of their immediate attack but just as soon as his feet left the ground, one of them grabbed onto it, yanked and launched him right at a wall.


    Jon slammed into the wall hard and dropped to the ground with a groan. His muscles were quaking now, throbbing agonizingly. Slowly, he got back to his feet, spat blood from his mouth and looked to the two Helmets ahead of him.


    Further down the tunnel, Andre was having his head pounded against the train tracks. Yuri remained on her knees, her face buried in her hands now.


    “You shouldn’t have come looking for us,” said one of the Helmets in front of Jon. “We wanted to let you live, you know. You and your team. You were of absolutely no relevance to us, we already got what we wanted from the last ones. But you just had to come too close. Now we can’t let you leave. Not when you could jeopardize everything.”


    “Shut up!” Jon snarled, and launched himself right at the Helmets.


    His fist connected with one, sent it staggering backward then he spun around quickly enough to parry a blow from the other. He moved quickly, going in close to the second Helmet and slamming his head into his face. The Helmet staggered back a couple steps, then went flying when Jon thrust a foot into its chest.


    A snarl came from just behind Jon. Quickly, he swirled and both hands shot up instinctively to catch a fist that would have caught him in the back of the head if he hadn’t turned. His entire body trembled under the effort of catching blow and his knees threatened to buckle. But he kept himself on his feet, teeth gritted as he spun around, still holding on to the Helmet’s feet, hurling it right at the second that’d been just about to rise again.


    Both of them went down. Jon reached into his pocket at once, grabbing the vial of Jin’s blood and emptying it down his throat at once. Almost immediately, he felt the throbbing in his muscles dull to a stop, felt something akin to adrenaline surge through him, felt that intense bloodlust that came with consuming her blood.


    He charged down the tunnel with intense speed, going straight for Andre and the Helmet still bashing his head into the tracks. He arrived with a knee slam into the Helmet’s face that sent it flying a great distance away from Andre.


    “We need to get out of here,” he said immediately, helping Andre up to his feet. “The vial. Use it now.”


    Andre nodded at him a little weakly, blood pouring profusely down the side of his face. Jon moved toward Yuri, seized her by the arm and pulled her to her feet.


    “Hey, snap out of it!” he growled. “We’re getting out of here. Now.”


    Yuri met his eyes then. Her eyes were wet. She’d been sobbing. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I’m so—,”


    “Doesn’t matter!” Jon yelled, a little frantically since all three Helmets were getting back on their feet now. “You can’t fight but you can run, right?”


    Yuri nodded.


    “Good. Then run!”


    All three of them broke into sprints, charging in the direction of the exit, two Helmets ahead of them getting into position to obstruct their escape. Jon didn’t stop running. He sped up, eyes turning bloodshot with rage as he got closer and closer to the Helmets. Once they were close enough, he extended one hand to Yuri.


    Yuri took it and with all of the strength he could muster, Jon launched her forward, sending her sailing right past the Helmets, both of whom spun around and looked ready to go after Yuri. Jon and Andre got to them first, hurling the Helmets out of their way and continuing forward with speed.


    Jon looked over his shoulder to see both Helmets getting back up immediately, the third joining them and then all three broke into pursuit.


    The Helmets were rapid and inhumanly determined. They closed in very quickly and soon, Jon and the others had to constantly move from left to right to avoid the Helmets who would attack from any direction. One Helmet leaped at the ceiling of the tunnel, digging its hands to it and crawling in spider-like fashion before launching itself at Jon from above.


    Jon turned around to meet the Helmet with a powerful blow to the face, and immediately continued to run for the exit which was rather difficult because every natural instinct of his then wanted him to stop and to fight, to kill the Helmets, tear them apart from limb to limb and then find any more and do the same to them too. That was what Jin’s blood did.


    But the more logical part of him, dulled as it might have been in the moment knew that the chance they’d win here, even with Jin’s blood was rather slim. If they could get out of the tunnels, take the fight up above where there was more space and a pretty good chance that the commotion would be heard by the others back at the orphanage then they’d stand a higher chance at surviving.


    Survival was all that mattered here. And the Helmets showed no sign of wanting to make it easy on them.


    But they were close now. The tunnel exit was just in view, rays of moonlight slipping into the tunnel via the opening.


    They were close now. Closer. Just a few feet more to go.


    A loud snarl from behind Jon. Firm hands gripped his neck from behind and a force tackled him to the ground. A Helmet swiped away furiously at him. Jon winced in pain as he felt skin be torn from him, felt his flesh be pierced, sliced through like butter. His vision blurred underneath a flurry of attacks and he felt blood seep out of him.


    But Jin’s blood hadn’t yet finished his work in him. He growled angrily, dug deep into the reserves of strength it provided. He poured as much strength as he could into a fist that he slammed right into the Helmet’s face, sending it hurtling off him and through the air.


    Jon hurried to his feet immediately, looked in Yuri and Andre’s direction. Andre was pinned to the ground by one Helmet and was being strangled. The last Helmet was advancing on Yuri, moving slowly, as though savoring the moment, enjoying the look of horror on her face.


    Jon growled angrily, and dashed first toward Yuri. He grabbed the Helmet from behind, seizing it by the waist, raising it high above his head and then slamming it down on the ground. The Helmet hit the ground with a loud crack, growled then started to rise again. Jon smashed a foot into the Helmet’s face, launching it some distance away.


    He moved quickly then. In a blur, he’d taken Yuri’s sword from the scabbard and was charging at the Helmet atop Andre, his eyes bloodshot with murderous fury. He raised the sword, the Helmet’s neck in sight. He prepared to swing, prepared to take the monster’s head clean off its body.


    BANG!


    The gunshot echoed throughout the tunnel, accompanied rather closely by the scent of gunpowder. The bullet struck the blade of the sword with enough force to knock it right out of Jon’s grasp.


    Jon, stunned and surprised, swirled around in the direction the bullet had come from. Standing there, just at the tunnel entrance, little visible of him other than a silhouette, was a man clad in a trench coat, barrel of a long firearm aimed in Jon’s direction.


    Jon’s eyes went wide in a mixture of confusion and fury. “What the hell? Who are y—,”


    “WATCH OUT!” yelled the stranger.


    Jon reacted too late. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the movement, rapid and precise. But there wasn’t enough time to get clear.


    Yuri’s sword went straight through his chest, passing all the way through and protruding from his back. Blinding agony shot throughout his body and he stumbled backward, a loud roaring sound filling his ears. It took him a few seconds to realize the sound was from him. He’d been screaming.


    His eyes stung as he dropped to his knees, vision blurring out of focus for a moment but he could still make out the Helmet in front of him, one hand raised, poised to finish Jon off.


    Andre was getting back up now, but he wouldn’t be able to do anything quickly enough. Jon stared down at the hilt of the sword at his chest. He coughed and blood sprayed from his mouth onto the floor.


    He looked back to the Helmet, drew a deep breath. “Get it over with,” he hissed, and squeezed his eyes shut.


    He awaited death.


    What came in its stead was another gunshot and the sound of something shattering. He cracked his eyes open again to see the Helmet down on one knee, half of its helmet having shattered from the gunshot, exposing half of the creature’s real face.


    But it wasn’t a creature at all.


    It was a kid. A boy with curly dark hair and green eyes that’d been glazed over. Jon watched as some expression slowly returned to the boy’s eye, some life and consciousness returning to it. He watched the boy’s eye widen in horror, saw it water, saw the tears streak down the boy’s cheeks.


    “Help.” The boy’s voice was a shaky whimper.


    Jon extended a hand toward the boy, but felt his entire body go limp then. He dropped to the ground face first. Before his vision faded entirely, he saw feet rushing toward the boy. The other Helmets. He saw them seize the boy, saw them drag him off, heard something akin to screams and loud yells.


    He heard more gunshots, accompanied by frantic yelling. Then he felt hands grab him, felt himself be lifted off the ground, his arms being slung across the shoulders of people whose faces he couldn’t make out but who he knew must have been Yuri and Andre.


    “He’s dying,” a teary voice said.


    “He needs blood,” another said. “We need to get him to the orphanage now.”


    “No,” Jon groaned weakly, attempting to refocus his sight. “Not me,” he said, head pounding. “Leave me…help…the….boy.”


    Then the world went black.