As Nero kept Kato pinned, everyone watching through the various video feeds stayed glued to their screens.

  “Let go of Kato. Now,” Rhea demanded.

  Nero’s voice remained calm. “First, the info on Grant. How do you know him?”

  Kato, moving slowly, tried to reach the knife strapped to his right thigh—keeping his motions as subtle as possible, hoping Nero wouldn’t notice. But Nero’s senses caught the movement instantly.

  Without even looking away, he said, “Do you want to die? Your bullets couldn’t scratch me, and you’re reaching for a knife? Don’t make me put this in through your eye.”

  General Mordane was also watching, the live feed now coming from the camera strapped to Rhea’s vest. The ice beneath Nero’s feet spread outward, sliding over the ground and curling around Rhea and Vinn’s boots. Roots, fallen leaves, grass, twigs—everything it touched froze solid.

  Mordane’s voice crackled through the radio. “We’ll tell you about Dr. Grant, but first—let Private Drex go.”

  Nero glanced at Rhea. “Who is that? What’s his rank?”

  Before she could answer, Mordane replied, “I’m General Kaelen Mordane, Base Commander of Ironwatch Hold.”

  A faint smile touched Nero’s lips. “Great. I get to speak directly to the General. This just got easy.” His tone cooled. “I’m sorry, General, that I have to use tactics like this, but I need to know—Is Grant alive?”

  “Yes,” Mordane said. “Dr. Elias Grant is alive.”

  At those words, Nero released Kato and stepped back.

  Kato stumbled back, hissing under his breath as he scraped the thin crust of frost from his skin.

  “We found him gravely wounded and brought him to the base,” Mordane continued. “He’s recovering now.”

  Kato quickly rejoined Vinn and Rhea.

  “You alright?” Vinn asked.

  “Yeah—no thanks to you,” Kato shot back. “I know you’re not much of a talker, but you didn’t even try to convince him to let me go?”

  “Private Drex, are you unharmed?” Mordane asked over the comm.

  “Yes, General. My weapon’s destroyed, though—by Angelo,” Kato replied.

  “That’s fine,” Mordane said.

  Kato glanced toward Nero. The ice around him was melting. Frozen leaves, twigs, and roots softened, returning to their natural state. On the thermal feed, Nero’s body temperature was climbing—within seconds, it reached normal. All the cracks on him started to close, turning his body back to normal. Everything once coated in frost was now slick with water from the melt. The last of the ice on Kato’s hands and forehead dissolved, dripping away in cold rivulets.

  Tears began to slip from Nero’s eyes.

  Everyone froze, stunned by the sight of tears sliding down Nero’s cheeks. The man who had taunted a monster while killing it, who held a soldier hostage like it was nothing—was now crying.

  Kato squinted in disbelief.

  “Are… you crying right now?”

  Nero tilted his head back toward the moon and whispered, almost to himself,

  “I had a feeling you were alive, Grant.”

  Vinn and Rhea didn’t lower their weapons. Their rifles remained fixed on him.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “General,” Rhea asked through comms, her voice tight, “what are our orders?”

  Mordane’s reply came steady:

  “Ask Angelo if he is willing to cooperate with us.”

  Rhea glanced at her teammates, then back at Nero.

  “Angelo Walker… are you willing to cooperate?”

  Nero slowly turned his gaze on her.

  “… I’m sorry.”

  The three tensed instantly, fingers tightening on their triggers, bracing for violence. But Nero wiped his tears away and continued:

  “I am not Angelo Walker.”

  Confusion rippled through their faces.

  “I’m Nero,” he said. “Angelo Walker is gone.”

  Kato leaned toward Vinn, muttering under his breath, “Yeah, he’s lost it.”

  Rhea pressed on. “What do you mean? You look exactly like him—except for the marks that were on you.”

  “This,” Nero gestured to himself, “is Angelo Walker’s body. But he gave me control—and a copy of his memories.”

  Rhea’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to mess with us?”

  Nero managed a weak smile.

  “If it doesn’t make sense to you, don’t worry. I’m just as lost as you are.”

  Mordane’s voice cut in over comms.

  “Regardless of who you claim to be, that is Angelo Walker’s body. For that reason, you must be brought to the base. Will you cooperate with our soldiers present there?”

  Nero studied the three of them, then answered,

  “If Grant is truly in your base, I’ll cooperate. But if I learn you lied… there will be consequences.”

  “Understood,” Mordane replied firmly. “Echo Needle will remain by your side until backup arrives. For now, assist him in aiding the injured.”

  “Roger that, General,” the scout team responded in unison.

  Nero nodded. “Then hurry. Dorne’s condition is critical.”

  The four of them started running toward Thom’s house. Along the way, the scouts finally had a chance to take in the aftermath. The forest and town had thawed, but in the clearing above them, the monster remained suspended in midair, encased in a coffin of ice.

  Kato slowed to stare at it.

  “… That thing is still up there?”

  “It’s dead,” Nero said flatly without looking back. “And the ice will hold it for a long time. Now move.”

  Kato jogged forward to catch up, then glanced at him.

  “I know we’re in a hurry, but—you do realize you’re completely naked, right?”

  Nero skidded to a halt, staring down at himself.

  “… I fought like this the whole time?” He exhaled sharply. “Damn it. I don’t have time to go back inside and—Dorne needs help now.”

  Rhea interjected. “You go and change. Kato and I will check on your friend. Vinn goes with you.”

  “Fine,” Nero agreed. “But make sure Dorne survives.”

  The group split—Nero and Vinn veering toward Dorne’s house, while Rhea and Kato continued to Thom’s.

  When they reached the door, it was unlocked. They entered carefully.

  Inside, Thom froze at the sound of footsteps. His hand shot to a drawer, pulling out a knife.

  “Is anybody here?” Kato called out. “We’re with the military. Nero sent us to help the injured man.”

  Thom hesitated, then slowly stepped into view, lowering the knife. Rhea and Kato reflexively raised their weapons, making him flinch before they quickly lowered them again.

  “Sorry,” Rhea said, her tone softer. “We didn’t mean to scare you. We’re here to help Dorne—is that his name?”

  Thom studied them carefully. “Nero actually sent you?”

  “Yes,” Rhea confirmed. “He went to grab clothes. That’s all.”

  Thom’s brow tightened. “And the monster?”

  Kato cut in. “Dead. That Angelo—or Nero, whatever you call him—killed it.”

  Rhea shot him a look. “Enough. Where’s the injured man?”

  Thom nodded quickly and led them toward a back room. As they moved through the house, Rhea noticed dark smears on the wooden floorboards, and a handprint in dried blood on the doorframe. The faint metallic tang of it still clung to the air.

  Dorne lay on a bed, pale and still, his chest rising shallowly. The sheets beneath him were stained, and hastily wrapped bandages on his torso were spotted through with fresh red.

  “I carried him in,” Thom admitted, voice trembling. His hands were still streaked with brownish-red, his shirt smeared from where Dorne had bled against him. “I stopped the bleeding, but he needs treatment now.”