NO!" Cain roared. "No, there has to be sothing—"
"I’m sorry," the Delta whispered. "There’s nothing we can do. If we try to pull it out, we’ll kill her faster."
Cain stared at her, then back at Ellen.
Ellen, who was glowing.
Ellen, who was dying.
"Why?" Cain’s voice was raw. "Ellen, why would you do this?"
"Because," Ellen whispered, her voice so faint he had to lean in to hear, "I was tired, Cain. So tired. And the shield—it was breaking. I could feel it. Cracking. And if it broke—" Tears slipped down her glowing cheeks. "Everyone would die. The children. The families. Everyone."
"So you decided to die instead?"
"I decided to hold on," Ellen said, her voice firr now. "Just a little longer. And this—this helps. It lightens the load. Makes it easier to hold."
"You’re absorbing radiation," Cain said desperately. "It’s killing you."
"I know." Ellen’s smile was sad, peaceful. "I know, Cain."
"Then stop." Cain grabbed her hands, clutching them to his chest. "Stop absorbing it. Let the shield do the work. We’ll find another way—"
"There is no other way," Ellen said gently. "Not in ti. And I—" She stopped, her breath hitching. "I never expected to leave this alive, Cain. I made peace with that the mont I agreed to do this."
"No." Cain’s voice broke. "Ellen, no, you can’t—"
"I can," Ellen whispered. "And I will. Because it’s worth it. They’re worth it."
"You’re worth it too!" Cain shouted, tears streaming down his face. "You’re worth it, Ellen! You don’t have to—"
"Yes, I do." Ellen’s glowing eyes t his. "Because if I don’t, who will? Who else can carry this?"
Cain opened his mouth. Closed it.
Because she was right.
No one else could do this.
Only her.
"How long?" Cain asked hoarsely, turning to the Delta.
The Delta’s face crumpled. "Hours. Maybe less. The radiation is accumulating faster than her body can handle. Once it reaches critical mass—" She stopped. "She’ll burn out. From the inside."
Cain looked back at Ellen, his hands still clutching hers.
"Hours," he repeated numbly.
"I’m sorry," Ellen whispered. "I’m so sorry, Cain."
"Don’t." Cain’s voice was fierce. "Don’t you dare apologize. You’re—" He stopped, his throat closing. "You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known."
Ellen smiled—small, tired, radiant. "I’m just doing what needs to be done."
"No," Cain said, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. "You’re doing what no one else could do. You’re saving thousands of lives. And I—" His voice broke. "I’m so grateful. And so angry. Because you shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t—" Her skin burnt his.
"But I am," Ellen whispered. "And I’m okay with that. I really am."
For a long mont, they stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, tears mingling, the light from Ellen’s body casting everything in a soft, terrible glow.
Then Ellen spoke, her voice so quiet Cain almost missed it.
"Will you stay with ?"
Cain pulled back, staring at her. "What?"
"Until the end," Ellen whispered. "Will you stay? I don’t—I don’t want to be alone."
Cain’s chest cracked open.
"Yes," he said, his voice raw. "Yes, Ellen. I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere."
Ellen exhaled—a shaky, relieved sound.
"Thank you," she whispered.
---
22:47:08
Frostfang
By the first howl, the division knew they had co. They all took position, including Hades.
"POSITIONS!" Silas roared. "ALPHA LEADS! LET HIM THROUGH!"
Hades shifted—bones cracking, his massive wolf form erging, larger than any other on the field. His eyes burned red in the darkness.
The enemy appeared at the tree line.
Sixty gammas. Four pri ferals flanking Jas.
Jas stood at the center, arms crossed, that sa bitter smile on his face.
"CHARGE!" Hades’s voice was a roar that shook the ground.
He launched forward, a blur of black fur and fury. Frostfang’s forces surged behind him—a wave of wolves and gunfire.
The enemy gammas charged to et them.
Fifty ters. Thirty. Twenty.
Then Hades broke.
He veered left, away from the main force, leaving the enemy gammas to Frostfang.
His target: the pri ferals.
"CONCENTRATE FIRE ON THE GAMMAS!" Silas bellowed. "LET THE ALPHA WORK!"
Gunfire erupted—both sides unleashing hell. Wolves crashed into wolves. The battlefield exploded into chaos.
But Hades didn’t slow.
He hit the first pri feral at full speed—shoulder-checking it, sending it sprawling. It recovered instantly, snarling, the Mark of Malrik burning dark on its hide.
The other three pris moved to flank him.
Jas’s voice cut through the chaos. "His mouth! Don’t let him open his mouth! Attack his jaw!"
The pris lunged.
All four at once.
Hades twisted, jaws snapping, catching one by the throat. It thrashed, claws raking his side—but Hades held on, dragging it close.
Then he howled.
Not loud. Not distant.
Point-blank.
The sound wasn’t just noise—it was power. A wave of force that rippled through the air, infused with Chalyx, with blood, with compulsion.
The pri feral in his jaws convulsed.
Its eyes rolled back.
The Mark of Malrik on its hide shattered—black lines fracturing, dissolving like ash.
It went limp.
Hades released it. It hit the ground, unconscious or dead—he didn’t know, didn’t care.
One down.
The other three pris attacked.
Claws tore into Hades’s shoulder. Teeth snapped at his throat. One locked onto his hind leg, biting, trying to cripple him.
Hades roared, twisting, throwing one off. He caught another by the scruff, slamd it into the ground, and howled again.
The sound tore through its skull.
The Mark shattered.
It collapsed.
Two down.
But the effort—
Hades staggered, his legs shaking. His vision blurred. The howl drained him, just like it had with Orion. Each use burned through his reserves, his energy, his life.
He couldn’t keep this up.
The third pri feral circled him, snarling.
Hades bared his teeth, forcing himself upright.
The pri lunged—
Hades t it head-on. They collided, rolling through the snow, claws and teeth tearing at each other.
Hades got on top, pinned it down, opened his jaws—
And howled.
Directly into its face.
The Mark shattered.
The feral went limp.
Three down.
Hades collapsed beside it, gasping, his whole body trembling. Blood stread from a dozen wounds. His vision swam.
But there was still one left.
He forced himself up, legs shaking, and turned—
Jas stood twenty feet away, the fourth pri feral at his side.
And he was smiling.
Not panicked. Not afraid.
"You’re stronger than I thought," Jas said, his voice almost conversational. "But you’re predictable. I knew you’d co for the pris. Knew you’d exhaust yourself breaking them. Knew you’d think you were winning."
Hades snarled, but didn’t respond. Couldn’t waste the energy.
Jas’s smile widened. "Did you really think I’d send four pris without a backup plan?"
He gestured at the fourth pri—the one still standing.
"This one’s special," Jas said. "Go ahead. Break it. Use your howl. I’m counting on it."
Hades’s eyes narrowed.
Sothing was wrong.
But the pri was attacking—charging forward, claws extended.
Hades had no choice.
He shifted.
His wolf form was massive, dark, well-trained. Beta strength. Beta speed.
Jas moved.
Not to attack Hades.
To retreat.
He backed away, putting distance between himself and the fourth pri.
Hades didn’t have ti to process it.
The pri was on him—claws tearing, teeth snapping. He twisted, caught it by the throat, dragged it close—
And howled.
One last ti.
The sound ripped through the air—weaker than before, but still there. Still enough.
The Mark on the pri’s hide shattered.
It went limp in his jaws.
Hades released it, swaying, his legs giving out—
And then he saw it.
Strapped to the pri’s chest.
A device. Small. tallic. Blinking red.
A bomb.
Hades’s eyes widened.
He tried to move—tried to throw himself backward—
Too late.
The bomb detonated.
The explosion was catastrophic.
Fire and force and shrapnel erupting outward in a wave of destruction.
Hades was directly in the blast radius—zero distance—the pri’s body pressed against him when it went off.
The left side of his face disintegrated.
Flesh vaporized. Bone shattered. His jaw, his cheek, his eye—gone. A portion of his skull ripped away, exposing brain matter and blood vessels beneath.
He didn’t scream.
Couldn’t.
Just collapsed, his body jerking once, then going still.
Blood poured from the ruined side of his head, pooling in the snow, steaming in the cold air.
Across the battlefield, Jas stood untouched.
He’d been far enough away. Safe.
Planned.
He stared at Hades’s broken body, and his smile didn’t waver.
"Predictable," Jas said quietly.
Around him, the Silverpine forces were already retreating—pulling back into the trees, mission accomplished.
Jas turned, mounted his wolf, and disappeared into the darkness.
Leaving Hades bleeding in the snow.
The battlefield went silent.
Everyone—Frostfang, Silverpine reserves, everyone—staring at the smoking crater.
At Hades.
At the ruin of him.
Silas’s voice cut through the silence—raw, desperate, broken.
"ALPHA!"
He shifted mid-sprint, his wolf form tearing across the battlefield, skidding to a stop beside Hades’s body.
"No no no—HADES!"
Hades’s remaining eye was open—barely. Staring at nothing.
Blood everywhere. Too much blood.
"DELTA!" Silas roared. "DELTA, NOW!"
They ca running.
But even from a distance, Silas could see their faces.
Horror. Shock.
Doubt.
Because the left side of Hades’s skull was gone.
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