Ethan sat on the edge of the narrow bed in the safe house, staring at the floor. The room stank of damp wood and old oil lamps.
A single candle burned on the table. It was already three in the morning. The ritual started at 7 a.m. sharp. Less than four hours, and still he had not slept.
He rubbed his eyes. The plan was still half-formed in his head. Marcus had walked away when Ethan told him he could not kill Olivia. Just turned and left without argument, like he simply gave up.
Chief Barry had accepted the excuse without question. That part still surprised Ethan. Barry was not the trusting type. Yet he had simply nodded and moved on.
The bigger problem was Karisa. She still believed the plan ended with her death in the ritual. Chief Barry had warned him not to tell her the truth. Not yet. Ethan hated it, but he understood why. One wrong word and everything could collapse.
Knock! Knock!
Ethan stood and opened it. Karisa stood in the hallway, wearing a plain cloak, hood down. Her eyes looked tired but still clear and strong.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
He stepped aside as she entered and closed the door behind her. For a moment they just stood there.
"Are you... nervous?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah," Ethan admitted. "It’s not every day you walk into something like this."
"Are you really ready? I mean... really?"
He shrugged. "Ready as I can be. Sleep would help, but there’s no time now."
Karisa sat on the edge of the bed. She looked at her hands, then up at him.
"You know, I’ve always admired you, Ethan. Even back in training. The other cadets hated how easily you rose.
They tried everything, spreading rumors, sabotaging your gear, ganging up during drills. But you still came out on top every time.
You just kept going. I wanted to be like that. Still do."
Ethan stayed silent. He had not expected this, the always strict and steady captain being so soft-spoken.
She continued, voice lower. "I need to tell you the truth, actually. This isn’t really about the money. It isn’t really about the rebellion either.
In all honesty, I’m doing this for myself."
Pause.
"I want out from under Olivia’s grip. She controls everything. Every move, every decision I have made.
I’m just... tired of it. I feel guilty as hell for dragging you into my mess, but I had to try.
I’m sorry."
Her eyes were wet. She did not cry, but the guilt was clear on her face.
Ethan sat down next to her. The bed creaked under their weight. He didn’t know what to do or say here. Here she was, being vulnerable in some sense. He hadn’t believed Marcus, but after this, it seemed those marks on her neck weren’t just accidents.
"You don’t have to apologize," he said. "I get it. Family can be the heaviest chain there is." He said this while looking at his own situation, placed on him by his father.
Karisa gave a small, bitter laugh. "My hate, it’s suffocating, really. But this morning, I will be free..."
Ethan stared at the candle flame. He wanted to tell her the full plan, that she would not actually die.
But Chief Barry’s warning echoed in his head. If she knew too much and slipped up during the ritual, Olivia would sense it immediately.
Instead he said, "We’ll get through it. You do your part. I’ll do mine. After that... things will be different."
She looked at him for a long moment. "You always say things like that. Like you already see the way forward. That’s another thing I admire, you know." She muttered, staring into his eyes.
They sat in silence for a while. The candle burned lower. She couldn’t help but get closer, leaning towards him.
Ethan finally spoke again. "Get some rest if you can. Tomorrow starts early."
Karisa stood up right away. Her cheeks were utterly red as she quickly walked to the door. She hesitated to open it. "...Thank you... for believing me. For not... judging."
"I’m not in any position to judge," he said.
Thud!
***
Olivia stood totally alone in the small stone chamber beneath the temple. The smell of blood and incense was all around.
A single torch flickered on the wall, casting long shadows across the altar. With her single hand, she dragged the giant beast behind her, its claws scraping against the floor. A beast she hunted herself.
The creature was a high-level beast from the outer woods, quite special. If sold, one would earn millions. Its yellow eyes darted around, still full of fight, its feet kicking around, the rope barely holding it together.
Annoyed, she raised her hand once more and...
Bang!
With one punch, she forced it down onto the altar and pressed her knee into its back.
The monster thrashed once, then stilled when she drew her knife. A scythe, in fact. Olivia raised the blade and spoke the words she had repeated since she was a child.
"Athena, goddess of wisdom and war. Guide my hand. Grant me clarity in battle and accept this offering of mine."
The knife came down clean. The blade sliced through the neck in one single swing. Hot blood sprayed across the stone and over her hands.
The beast writhed, shaking in agony, but she held the head up by the horns until the body stopped twitching, then placed it on the altar next to the previous offerings. The blood ran into the carved grooves and disappeared into the basin below.
And it was done.
Olivia wiped her hands on a cloth but did not clean them completely. The blood was part of the ritual.
She knelt, head bowed, eyes closed.
"Make me faster. Make me stronger. Let no one stand in my way... until she becomes mine."
She stayed there for several minutes, breathing slow and steady. When she finally rose, the chamber felt heavier. The gods had listened. They always did when the blood was fresh.
A messenger found her as she left the temple. She was notified that the higher-ups wanted her immediately. Her jaw tightened in irritation. She had expected this, but not this soon.
The meeting room was already set, the hologram staged and ready. Three men sat behind a long table: General Voss, Advisor Hale, and the silent figure known only as the Oracle’s Voice. They all glared at her, offering no seat.
"Centurion Olivia," General Voss began, voice flat. "The mission still remains incomplete. You still haven’t shown proof of Ethan Grooves’s death. Would you please explain."
At those words, that stare, she knew then and there, if she told the truth, she would be transferred again, and she didn’t want that, as she had finally been reunited with her sister.
Olivia crossed her arms. "Chief Barry is already handling it. The target is dead, like he said. I confirmed it myself before I returned."
The three men exchanged glances. Advisor Hale leaned forward. "You confirmed it? Interesting. Because our sources say otherwise."
Olivia stared at them without blinking. "Then your sources are wrong. Or lying. Either way, the man is handled."
Silence stretched. General Voss tapped his fingers on the table once, then spoke again.
"It has yet to be proven. Like we told Chief Barry, we need the BODY!" they ordered.
Olivia let her voice rise. "One man. One single man. Why is he so important that I have to drop everything and babysit his death? To show such proof.
Armies. Beasts. Actual enemies. Not some cadet who got lucky a few times. Why do I need to be there personally for this?"
The Oracle’s Voice raised a hand and the room grew quieter. He unrolled a small scroll and began reading in a low, steady tone.
"The gods have spoken. A man of common blood will rise from the ashes of the old order. He carries the mark of change. If he lives, the empire will fracture.
The thrones will burn. The bloodlines will end. Only his death before the next full moon can prevent the fall. The chosen must strike him down, or all will be lost."
Olivia listened, a prophecy, an actual prophecy, for the first time in four hundred years. She could not help but feel her stomach go cold.
Why? Because prophecies meant the world was about to change drastically, and at the center of it all was him, Ethan Grooves.
That’s why they sent me? No, I was told I was recommended, but that matters not. What matters is that boy...
She thought, remembering the punch on her chest. Those blue eyes.
She swallowed once, keeping her face hard. "And you’re certain it’s him?"
"Without doubt," General Voss said. "The gods do not speak lightly. You were selected because of your skill and your connection to the target’s circle. Failure is not an option."
Olivia stood straighter. The fear was there, but she pushed it down. Fear was useful only if it sharpened her.
"I will do my best," she said. "I always have. But I want something in return."
Advisor Hale raised an eyebrow. "You bargain with the empire now?"
"One request, and one request only. My sister, Karisa. Transfer her to my section. To my team. Immediately."
The three men looked at each other again. General Voss nodded slowly. "Granted. She will be reassigned by tomorrow evening. Now focus. Find Ethan Grooves at all costs. Kill him. Do not return until it is done."
Olivia gave a sharp salute and left the room. Her hands were still sticky with the monster’s blood, as the gods had listened to her. Athena had listened to her.