The green smoke appeared among the man’s arms first, before the very same smoke materialised above the bodies of the slain enemies.

Damon noticed it from the shadows before anyone in the station did. A faint curl of dark emerald rising from the nearest slain guard, the same shade as the smoke forming around the lieutenant’s arms below.

He frowned before noticing more than just the smoke.

One of the bodies twitched.

Then, the one beside it.

Within moments, all eleven bodies rose with the particular wrongness of movement that had no business existing in things that had stopped moving permanently thirty seconds ago.

’Necromancer.’

The realisation crashed into him like a wave. The reason why he wasn’t carrying a weapon and moved with the confidence as he did was that he had an army ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice.

Damon used his shadow step once more, appearing in the centre of the station, where the exchange was happening.

Between both groups, equidistant, close enough that the lieutenant’s dark green eyes found him before his feet had fully settled on the ground.

The eleven risen figures spread across the mezzanine above them, moving to cover every exit with the coordinated efficiency of something being directed rather than deciding.

Ivy didn’t look surprised to see him. She looked like someone who had been waiting for the variable to reveal itself and was relieved it had done so on their terms rather than the enemy’s.

The necromancer looked at Damon with a keen look in his eyes

"It seems there has been a bit of a misunderstanding," the man said in a tone that was far from being apologetic. "I do admit we might’ve gone a little overboard with the security... but I assure you we are simply here for Jax."

A brief silence settled over the station.

Both groups had shifted into readiness without anyone giving an order. Their hands clenching on their weapons, weight shifting forward, the particular collective tension of a situation that had only one outcome, and now everyone was simply waiting for someone to make the first move.

Damon ran silent calculations in his head.

First, he did a quick count of enemy forces.

Four lieutenants. Eleven risen undead fighters of unknown capability, and Victor with a blade still at his throat, the holder’s grip having tightened when Damon appeared.

His gaze then moved to his group.

Hana, Ivy, Ning Xiaoyu, Nyla, and Theodore were on their side. Each of them was strong as fighters from their citadel get, capable, but the moment the fighting started, Victor would be their biggest problem. One wrong move and the blade would cut right through his neck.

It could get messy really easily.

He held the calculation for a moment longer than he would have liked.

"The exchange," he said finally. "As agreed."

The necromancer studied him for a moment with the particular attention of someone who wasn’t expecting this outcome

"As agreed," he said with a firm nod.

The exchange happened in the particular silence of two groups who had agreed to a temporary ceasefire and trusted it completely by both sides.

Jax was walked forward by Theodore, who released his collar at the midpoint with faint reluctance, as if unwilling to let him go just yet.

Victor was escorted forward from the other side, the blade at his throat withdrawn a fraction with each step, enough to move but not just enough to forget it was there.

They passed each other at the centre without looking at one another.

The second he left the enemy blade and took a quick step beside Damon, he let out a relieved exhale. A weight he had been carrying on his shoulders shattered, but the look on his face, the mix of guilt combined with relief, remained.

At the same time, Jax reached the lieutenant’s side.

And what happened in that small moment happened faster than anyone could process what they were seeing.

One of the lieutenants took hold of Jax by the collar the moment he crossed the midpoint. It wasn’t a rough welcome. On the contrary, it seemed almost gentle, before the lieutenant’s dagger flashed through the air and drew across his throat in a single clean motion.

Jax’s hands came up instinctively, trying to stop the incoming blade, but the second his arms rose, it was already too late. His eyes widened slowly in a cruel realisation before his body suddenly slumped to the ground, and blood began to pour from his neck.

Nobody on either side moved for a long moment. Everyone tried to remain composed, but some, like Hana, took an instinctive step back, not used to the cruel reality of the world out there.

Damon looked at the body and the blood spreading across the station’s floor, caught in the amber light. Then he looked at the expression on Jax’s face, which had been surprised first and then nothing at all.

The necromancer’s dark green eyes found his across the station.

"We have no place," he said, his tone carrying the same pleasant quality it had held throughout, "for those who allow themselves to be captured by the enemy."

He let that land for a moment.

"It was nothing personal," he added. "Nothing in this world is anymore."

As he said it, the emerald smoke returned, coalescing above Jax’s slain. body before turning into another one of the man’s summons. There was no hesitation as he turned the body of one of their own into another one of his summons.

The three lieutenants gathered Jax’s body without a need for an order, already knowing what to do with efficiency that suggested it wasn’t the first time.

The necromancer turned.

"This was productive," he said, already walking toward the northern exit. "We should do it again sometime."

The risen figures dissolved as he moved, the green smoke releasing from each of them and drifting toward the exit like it had somewhere to be.

But before the enemy group could truly leave, Damon spoke up, his expression darkened.

"Wait."