Ithilien saw him coming and still wasn't fast enough to stop what happened next, because Marco's hand drove straight through the steel hook hanging beside the freight rail, ripped it free in a spray of rust and metal, and hurled it at her with deadly precision.
She didn't have time to think.
The hook cut through the air with a sharp, metallic whistle, too fast, too direct to fully avoid. She twisted on instinct, her body reacting before her mind could catch up, but the angle was wrong, the distance too short.
It hit her not clean but deep enough.
The impact drove the breath from her lungs as the metal tore through the side of her abdomen, dragging her backward with it before ripping free and clattering across the concrete behind her. Pain exploded through her in a blinding wave, hot and immediate, stealing sound, thought, everything but the raw, visceral awareness of her own body failing to keep up.
She dropped to one knee.
For a second, the world tilted.
Then snapped back.
Somewhere close—
Kidd roared.
Not anger.
Something far worse.
Marco didn't slow down.
He was already moving again, already closing the distance, his focus locked entirely on her as if nothing else in the world existed. Blood streaked his skin now, his own and not his own, his movements sharper, more desperate, more driven than before.
Ithilien tried to stand.
Her body didn't respond fast enough.
And she knew this was it.
There was no time to shift. No time to fight. No time to call for help.
Marco reached her.
His hand closed around her throat again, slamming her back against the cold concrete, the force of it sending another burst of pain through her side. His grip tightened, cutting off air, cutting off everything but the crushing weight of him above her.
For a fraction of a second their eyes met. And this time she saw him.
Not the thing. Not the mutation.
Her brother.
Trapped somewhere behind it all, drowning under something he couldn't control.
His fingers trembled.
"Ith…" The sound was barely there, dragged out of him like it hurt.
Her vision blurred.
"Marco… stop…"
His grip tightened.
Then loosened. Then tightened again.
Like he was fighting himself. Like he was losing.
Kidd hit him before it could end. There was no hesitation left now.
No restraint.
Adrahill came through fully this time, massive and unstoppable, slamming into Marco with enough force to tear him away from Ithilien and send both of them crashing across the concrete. The sound of impact echoed through the loading bay, metal groaning under the strain as they collided with one of the old freight structures.
Ithilien collapsed back, gasping for air, her hand instinctively pressing against the wound at her side. Blood soaked through her fingers immediately, warm and relentless, but she barely felt it now, her focus snapping back to the fight unfolding just meters away.
Kidd didn't give him space. He went for the kill.
Marco fought back anyway.
Even now.
Even broken, even bleeding, even losing control, he moved with terrifying precision, dodging just enough, striking when he could, forcing Kidd to work for every inch. But it wasn't enough.
Not against Adrahill.
Not now.
Kidd drove him down hard, pinning him against the concrete, one massive hand locking around his throat while the other braced his weight. Marco struggled beneath him, his body convulsing, his movements losing coordination as whatever had been holding him together began to fracture.
"Stop fighting," Kidd growled.
Marco laughed. It came out wrong.
Wet.
Broken.
"You think… I'm in control?" he rasped.
Kidd's grip tightened. Marco's eyes flicked past him.
To Ithilien.
And something in his expression changed.
The fight drained out of him in a single, abrupt shift, his body going still beneath Kidd's hold as if some internal switch had flipped. The tension left his limbs, his breathing turning shallow, uneven, his gaze clearing just enough to make it worse.
"Let him go," Ithilien forced out, her voice shaking despite herself as she pushed up onto her elbows.
Kidd didn't move.
"Not yet."
"Please."
That word made him hesitate.
Just enough.
Marco exhaled slowly, the sound uneven but deliberate, his eyes still locked on Ithilien.
"Don't…" he started, then stopped, his jaw tightening as something flickered across his face again, something dark trying to break through.
He forced it down.
"Don't get close."
She ignored that.
Pushing through the pain, through the dizziness creeping in at the edges of her vision, Ithilien dragged herself closer, one hand still pressed to her side, the other reaching out before she could stop herself.
Kidd shifted slightly, adjusting his grip but not releasing him, his entire body still coiled, ready to end it the second things turned.
Marco watched her come closer.
And for a moment—
he looked like himself again.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
The words hit harder than anything else.
She shook her head immediately, the movement sharp, desperate.
"No. No, we're getting you out of here. We'll fix this, Marco, I swear—"
"You can't."
He didn't say it cruelly.
He said it like a fact. Like something he had already accepted.
Her hand finally reached his.
His skin was too cold.
"You don't know that—"
"I do."
His grip tightened weakly around her fingers, just enough to stop her from pulling away.
"They're close," he continued, his voice dropping lower now, urgency threading through the exhaustion. "This was never the main site. This is just… overflow. Failures. Early stages."
Kidd's attention sharpened.
"Where?"
Marco's gaze flicked to him briefly, then back to Ithilien.
"You don't have time to search," he said. "You need to go straight to him."
Her heart stuttered.
"Who?"
Marco swallowed, his body tensing once as something tried to surface again. Kidd's grip tightened instantly in response, holding him down, keeping him grounded.
Marco forced the words out anyway.
"Alaric… Voss."
The name landed heavy in the space between them.
"Who is he?" Kidd demanded.
Marco's lips curved faintly. Not a smile.
Something sadder.
"He's the only one who knows how to finish it."
Ithilien's fingers tightened around his.
"Finish what?"
Marco looked at her.
Really looked.
"The version that doesn't need wolves."
The world seemed to stop.
Her breath caught.
"What…?"
But he was already fading. She could feel it.
The way his grip weakened, the way his focus started to slip, the way whatever had been holding him together began to unravel at the edges.
"No," she said quickly, her voice breaking now despite everything. "Marco, stay with me. Stay—"
His hand tightened once more.
Weak.
Final.
"I did this… for you," he whispered.
And then—
his body jerked.
Violently.
Kidd reacted instantly.
"Ithilien—back!"
She didn't move.
Marco's eyes snapped wide, the clarity vanishing in an instant as something else surged back in, something feral and broken and unstoppable.
Kidd didn't hesitate this time.
He snapped his neck.
Clean.
Final.
The body went still beneath him.
Ithilien stared at Marco for a long moment, her hand still resting against his, her mind refusing to catch up with what had just happened, as if the world had fractured somewhere between one breath and the next and simply… hadn't come back together properly.
Then, slowly—
something inside her shifted.
Not breaking.
Not yet.
Hardening.
She pulled her hand away.
Carefully.
Deliberately.
Kidd watched her, his expression unreadable now, the violence still clinging to him, not yet fully receded.
She pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly before steadying, her hand pressing harder against the wound at her side as if she could force her body to keep up with what her mind had already decided.
"We're not stopping," she said.
Her voice was quiet but there was nothing uncertain left in it.
Kidd straightened slowly.
Rain echoed faintly above them.
The scent of blood still filled the air.
And somewhere beyond this place a man was still working.
He held her gaze for a second then nodded once.
"We're not hunting a creature anymore." His voice dropped. "We're hunting the man who made them."