Easter bouns
AXILE and MACE casualty list.
Here is the official record of those confirmed deceased during the Paris Extraction:
The MACE Organization
Oscar (The Delivery Boy/Shadow Operative)
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Executed by Ian within the bakery. His head was by man's hands removed and atomized into a skull for neural harvesting.
MACE Tactical Agents (Unnamed)
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Several perimeter scouts were eliminated by Klaus's rooftop pursuit and Scarlet's breach teams.
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The AXILE Hierarchy & Specialists
Tess (Security Specialist/Division Three)
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Soul flash-frozen by the twin-souled Wraith during the massacre at AXILE HQ.
Maeve (Heavy Suppression Specialist):
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Consciousness erased by the Wraith; her physical form left a hollow shell.
Andre (Tactical Lead/Executive Security)
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Asphyxiated and drained of life-force by the Wraith in the AXILE corridors.
Halden (Logistics/Transport)
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Killed in the catastrophic van accident triggered by the transformation of Clara and Elise into a Wraith.
AXILE Security Teams (16+ Guards):
Status: DECEASED/CRITICALLY INJURED.
Method: Broken by Vincent's "Internal Door" vacuum explosion and Sonia's vector-redirection during the hotel breach.
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The Underworld Delegates
Dicoviche (Billionaire Arms Dealer/Bidder):
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Executed by Andre with a single gunshot to the temple after failing to secure the stolen Divisions.
Dicoviche's Security Detail:
Status: DECEASED.
Method: Neutralized by Rose, Issa Kristẹni, and Duran during the high-speed limousine intercept.
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### The "Lost" Souls (Status: Liminal)
*Clara & Elise (The Apprentice Witches)
Status:PHYSICALLY TRANSFORMED / SPIRITUALLY BOUND.
Method: Their human identities were overwritten by Athalia's rage incantations, turning them into a singular Wraith. They are currently "alive" only as a subjugated weapon under the Dark Magician's bell.
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The butcher's bill is paid, but with the Dark Magician now holding the spirits of Clara and Elise, the dead may not stay silent for long.
The transition back to Detroit felt like a slow descent into a tomb. Scarlet watched the horizon through the chopper's reinforced glass, her jaw tight. The silence from the high command was deafening. No debrief from Ian, no spectral whispers from the Dark Magician. For a week, they had sat in a safe house in the city of lights, and not once had they seen the "merchandise" they were supposed to protect. It was as if the mission had simply evaporated, leaving only the blood on their boots as proof it ever happened.
Beside her, Rose suddenly lurched forward. A sharp, violent wave of dizziness hit her, the "refined" tan of her skin turning a ghostly, translucent grey. She gripped the armrest, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the world inside the cabin began to tilt and spin.
Klaus didn't move to help her. He couldn't. He sat with his back pressed against the vibrating hull, his eyes wide and vacant, staring at a point in space that didn't exist. Beneath his tactical sleeve, the wrist charm pulsed with a dull, sickly heat.
He was "wading"—pulling the psychic rot and the bad omen of the mission's failure out of Rose and into himself through their tether. Every time Rose managed to draw a steady breath, Klaus's pupils dilated further, a piece of his memory flickering and dying out like a spent bulb. He was the anchor, but he was drowning in the dark to keep her at the surface.
[Ohio State University — The Thompson Library]
Half a world away, the Thompson Library was a temple of hushed whispers and the scent of old paper. On the third floor, the afternoon sun cut through the massive windows, carving long, golden rectangles across the carpet—but the far corner of the stacks remained stubbornly dim.
Damon stood in that pocket of absolute shadow, leaning against a shelf of leather-bound law texts. He wasn't studying. He was a predator in a designer jacket, his posture so still it felt unnatural. His eyes were fixed on a girl, Fiona—three tables away.
He watched the way she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the way her pulse jumped in her neck as she focused on her laptop. To Damon, she wasn't a student; she was a rhythmic staccato of heartbeats, a scent of vanilla and floral soap that made his gums ache.
Suddenly, the rhythmic scuff-swish, scuff-swish of a heavy industrial broom broke the library's peace.
A man in a faded navy jumpsuit pushed the broom down the aisle. He moved with a heavy, flat-footed gait, his shoulders hunched. To the passing students, he was just **Crook**, the invisible janitor who emptied the bins and never looked up.
Crook stopped ten feet from Damon's shadow. He didn't look at the boy, but his voice was a low, gravelly rasp that barely traveled past the bookshelves.
"The sun's still up, bloodsucker," Crook muttered, his knuckles white around the wooden handle of the broom. "And Julius didn't send you here to window-shop for snacks."
Damon didn't turn his head. A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face. "The library is a public space, old man. I'm just... appreciating Fiona's dedication to her studies. It's inspiring."
"Appreciate it somewhere else," Crook voiced hoarsely, finally lifting his head. His eyes were hard, tired, and filled with a cold weight that made Damon's smirk falter. "The news from Paris arrived this morning. The 'merchandise' moved. The board is messy."
Damon's eyes flickered, the hunger momentarily replaced by a sharp, predatory curiosity. "What's my business? the others are your trainees Ryan? Holly?"
Crook went back to sweeping, his movements stiff and a little cold. "They are not easily seen and no phones only a pager which wouldn't do anything. Also it's better to tell you so that you'd tell Ryan . Julius wants 'em focused on their roles without attracting much attention".
Damon let out a soft, melodic chuckle, stepping back deeper into the dark. "You're a very grumpy gatekeeper, Crook."
"I'm a man with a broom," Crook replied, turning the corner into the next aisle. "And I'm tired of cleaning for today."
As the janitor disappeared, Damon looked back at Fiona. The hunger was still there, but now it was spiked with the knowledge that the world outside this library had just burned. He stayed in the shadows, watching her, as the sun began to die behind the university towers.