Zoe slowed as they approached the outskirts of Greenday territory, her massive wolf form padding silently through the skeletal remains of what had once been an industrial district. The buildings here were different—not residential ruins, but the hollowed shells of factories and warehouses, their rusted skeletons reaching toward the grey sky like the bones of dead giants.

Julian raised his hand. Zoe stopped instantly, her blue eyes scanning ahead with predatory focus.

They had arrived.

The Greenday outpost sprawled before them—not a single building, but a small compound of interconnected structures, their walls reinforced with salvaged materials. Fences of chain-link and razor wire surrounded the perimeter, with watchtowers at each corner manned by armed guards. Lights flickered in the gathering dusk—real lights, powered by generators or salvaged solar panels. This wasn’t a temporary camp like Rain’s operation. This was a permanent installation.

Emma leaned forward, her voice a bare whisper. "Okay. That’s a lot more organized than I expected."

Fey’s eyes narrowed, cataloging defenses. "Watchtowers. Patrol routes. At least two dozen visible personnel. Probably more inside." She glanced at Julian. "Direct assault would be messy. Even for us."

Dori’s grip tightened on Emma’s waist. Her voice, when it came, was soft but steady. "I can... I can help. With Conceal. If we’re careful, I can hide us while we move."

Julian turned to look at her—really look, with that particular warmth he reserved for his women. "You’re certain? Maintaining Conceal on multiple people while moving is more demanding than hiding yourself."

Dori swallowed, then nodded. "I’ve been practicing. And... and I want to help."

A ghost of a smile touched Julian’s lips. "Then we’ll do this together."

He dismounted first, landing silently on the cracked pavement. The others followed—Emma rolling her shoulder one last time, Fey checking her devices, Zoe shifting back to human form and dressing with her usual speed.

Julian gathered them close, voices barely above breaths.

"Plan: We use Dori’s Conceal to approach the perimeter. Fey, identify any alarm systems or traps. Emma, locate their command center—leadership quarters, communication hub, somewhere we can gather intelligence. Zoe, watch our backs. If we’re detected, we withdraw and reassess. No heroics."

He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Dori.

"You’re the key to this. Can you do it?"

Dori took a deep breath. Her gentle face set in lines of determination that looked almost foreign on her soft features. She nodded.

"I can do it, Julian."

"Then let’s move."

Dori closed her eyes, focusing. The world shimmered—just slightly, just at the edges—and suddenly the five of them seemed to blend into the background, their outlines soft, their presence muted. Anyone looking directly at them would see... nothing. Just shadows and ruins and the natural distortion of fading light.

They moved forward as one.

The fence approached. Fey’s eyes tracked along its length, and she pointed silently—a pressure plate, barely visible, hidden beneath a layer of debris. Dori’s Conceal held as they stepped carefully around it, never breaking the field.

A guard passed within ten feet of them, close enough to see the stitching on his coat. He didn’t glance their way. Didn’t sense a thing.

Emma’s grin was visible even through the concealment—sharp, excited, hungry.

They were in.

Behind them, the fence stood silent. Ahead, the heart of Greenday’s operation waited, unaware that predators had already slipped through their defenses.

Dori’s hand found Julian’s in the darkness. He squeezed gently.

They reached the warehouse’s outer wall without incident. Fey pressed her ear against the corrugated metal, listening. After a moment, she nodded—voices inside, multiple, engaged in what sounded like a heated discussion.

Julian squeezed Dori’s hand. "Can you hold it a little longer?"

Dori nodded, though her breathing had grown slightly labored. "I... I think so. Just... just don’t go too far from me. The Conceal works best when we’re close."

"Then we stay close."

He led them along the wall, following the sound of voices until they found a window—grimy, half-covered by debris, but offering a view into the warehouse’s interior. Fey checked it quickly for alarms, then signaled clear.

They gathered at the window, peering through the grime.

Inside, a meeting was in progress.

A long table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by a dozen people in various states of dress and weaponry. At the head sat a woman—middle-aged, severe, with iron-grey hair pulled back in a tight bun and eyes that held the cold authority of someone accustomed to absolute obedience. Maps and documents were spread before her, and her voice, when she spoke, carried through the glass despite the distance.

"The Eclipse shipment is delayed. Again." Her tone could have frozen water. "Rain’s operation has gone silent. I want to know why."

A subordinate shifted uncomfortably. "We’ve sent scouts, Commander Vex. They haven’t returned."

"Then send more. And this time, send people capable of returning."

Julian’s eyes narrowed, cataloging every detail—the commander’s face, the positions of her subordinates, the layout of the room. Vex. Commander of Greenday. A name to remember.

Emma nudged him, pointing at a far corner of the room where a massive safe stood partially open, documents spilling from its interior. Intel, her expression said. Lots of it.

Julian nodded. Then he looked at Dori.

The gentle girl’s face was pale now, the strain of maintaining Conceal on five people for so long clearly taking its toll. But her eyes—those soft, worried eyes—held nothing but determination.

’Just a little longer,’ he thought, squeezing her hand again. ’Just a little longer, and we’ll have what we need.’

Julian’s gaze swept the room one final time, committing every detail to memory. The commander’s position. The exits. The guards’ patrol patterns. The location of that safe, bulging with documents that could unravel Greenday’s entire operation.

Fey was already studying the warehouse’s security measures, her sharp eyes tracing wires and sensors with the focus of a surgeon. She caught Julian’s look and pointed—a subtle gesture toward a junction box on the building’s exterior. Cut the power, kill the alarms. Then another gesture, toward a side door barely visible in the deepening shadows. Entry point.

Julian nodded. Then he looked at Emma. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The fire-wielder’s grin was visible even through Dori’s concealment—sharp, eager, barely contained. She was practically vibrating with the desire to act, to burn, to unleash the inferno she carried within. But she held herself still, waiting for his signal.

Zoe, as always, needed no instruction. Her blue eyes tracked every guard, every potential threat, her body coiled and ready. She would react the instant anything went wrong—and probably an instant before.

Julian raised his hand, fingers extended.

Three.

Emma’s grin widened.

Two.

Fey’s hand moved to her devices.

One.

Julian’s hand closed into a fist.

Fey moved first.

She darted toward the junction box, her movements fluid and silent despite her usual laziness. Her fingers found the casing, pried it open, and within seconds the wires inside were rearranged—not cut, not destroyed, simply... redirected. The compound’s lights flickered once, twice, then steadied.

But the alarms? The alarms would stay silent for exactly seventeen minutes.

Plenty of time.

Emma was already at the side door, her fire banked but ready. She pressed against it, felt the lock give under subtle pressure—a small flame, precisely applied, melting the mechanism from within. The door swung open on silent hinges.

Julian led them inside, Dori pressed close, her Conceal straining but holding.

The warehouse interior was a maze of stacked crates, industrial equipment, and makeshift offices. Voices echoed from the meeting room they’d observed, but the main floor was empty—workers dismissed for the night, guards focused on the perimeter rather than the interior.

They moved through the shadows like they belonged there. Past crates labeled with Eclipse insignia. Past equipment that looked disturbingly like restraint systems. Past a wall covered with photographs and dossiers—faces of the "recruited," the ones Greenday had funneled toward Darwin’s experiments.

Emma’s expression darkened as she passed that wall, but she said nothing. Kept moving.

The safe loomed ahead, partially open, documents spilling from its interior like paper entrails. A single guard stood nearby—not alert, not watchful, simply present, his attention fixed on a small screen showing something that made him chuckle softly.

Fey raised an eyebrow. "Really? That’s their security?"

Julian didn’t waste time on judgment. He moved.

The guard never saw him coming. One moment he was chuckling at his screen; the next, darkness closed around him—not Dori’s Conceal, but Julian’s Shadow, wrapping him in silence and unconsciousness. He slumped forward, and Julian caught him, lowering him gently to the floor.

Then he turned to the safe.

Documents. So many documents. Shipment schedules. Recruitment targets. Communication logs with Eclipse leadership. Names, dates, locations—a treasure trove of intelligence that could dismantle Greenday’s entire operation.

Julian began pulling them, passing them to Emma, who stuffed them into a bag Fey had produced from somewhere. Zoe watched the perimeter, her blue eyes never still. Dori held the Conceal, her breathing shallow but her focus absolute.

They worked in silence, efficient and precise.

Two minutes in. Five minutes. Ten.

The bag filled.

And somewhere in the compound, a door opened, and footsteps began to approach.