The rain didn't stop when they left the facility.
It followed them all the way back, soaking into everything—the ground, their clothes, the silence that settled between them after the fight. No one spoke on the way out. There was nothing to say that wouldn't either break something further or fall completely flat against what had just happened.
They carried Marco.
Kidd insisted on it.
Not because the others wouldn't have helped, but because he didn't trust anyone else to do it without making it feel like something less than what it was. Ithilien walked beside him the entire time, not touching, not speaking, but never letting the distance between them grow.
She didn't look at Marco again.
Not once.
Because she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to keep moving.
By the time they reached the edge of the forest, the sky had already begun to lighten, a dull, grey dawn bleeding slowly through the clouds. The house stood exactly where they had left it, unchanged, untouched, as if nothing had happened at all.
It felt wrong.
Everything about it felt wrong.
They brought him inside.
Marco's room was still the same—bed made, books stacked neatly, the faint scent of antiseptic and paper still clinging to the air. It looked like a place someone had stepped out of for a moment, not a place someone would never return to.
Kidd set him down carefully.
Too carefully.
As if any sudden movement might undo what little dignity remained.
Ithilien stood in the doorway for a long time before stepping inside. Her movements were slower now, more deliberate, as if every step required conscious effort. When she finally reached the bed, she stopped again, her gaze resting on him without really seeing.
For a few seconds, nothing in her moved.
No grief.
No anger.
Just a strange, hollow stillness. She swallowed.
"We'll bury him outside," she said quietly, her voice steady in a way that didn't match the tightness in her chest. "Near the treeline."
Kidd nodded once.
"I'll get the others."
She shook her head.
"No."
That made him pause.
"I'll do it," she added. "Just… not with everyone watching."
For a moment, he looked like he might argue.
Then he didn't.
"Alright."
He stepped back, giving her space without leaving completely, his presence still there at the edge of the room, solid and silent.
Ithilien moved closer to the bed.
Slowly.
Carefully.
She reached out, her fingers brushing against Marco's sleeve, then his wrist, as if confirming something she already knew. His skin had already lost its warmth, the unnatural tension gone now, replaced by something still, something final.
This time, she didn't pull her hand away.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
The words felt insufficient.
Pointless.
But they were all she had.
She stood there a little longer, her hand resting against him, before finally stepping back.
When she turned toward the door, something in her expression had changed.
They buried him just beyond the treeline.
The ground was still damp from the rain, the soil heavy and resistant, but Ithilien didn't stop digging until it was done. Kidd stayed close, stepping in only when necessary, his movements efficient, wordless, matching her pace without trying to take over.
The others kept their distance.
They understood.
When it was finished, Ithilien stood at the edge of the grave, looking down without speaking. The forest around them was quiet, the early morning light filtering weakly through the branches, turning everything a muted shade of grey.
She should have said something.
A goodbye.
A memory.
Anything.
Instead, she let the silence settle.
Because words wouldn't change what had happened.
Wouldn't bring him back.
Wouldn't undo the fact that the last thing he had done was try to kill her.
Her jaw tightened.
No.
That wasn't fair.
That wasn't the truth.
The last thing he had done—
was choose her.
Even if it had only been for a second.
Even if it had cost him everything.
She exhaled slowly.
Then turned away.
"I'm done here."
Kidd watched her for a moment before nodding.
"Then we move forward."
She met his gaze.
There was no hesitation left in hers.
"Yeah."
The house felt different after that.
Quieter.
Heavier.
But no longer hollow.
Now it held something else.
Purpose.
They gathered in the living room, the map spread out across the table, notes and fragments of information scattered around it. Levi leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while Zane flipped through the documents they had taken from the lab.
"Alaric Voss," Levi said, testing the name. "Never heard of him."
"Doesn't mean anything," Zane replied. "If he's behind this, he's been buried deep on purpose."
Kidd glanced at Ithilien.
"You said Marco believed he was the one running it."
She nodded.
"He wasn't guessing. He knew."
"That means we start with him," Kidd said. "Track every connection, every facility, every piece of data tied to Fenrir. If Voss is the one finishing it, he's not hiding in a hole somewhere. He's still working."
"Which means more sites," Levi added. "More labs like the one we just cleared."
"And more of those things," Zane muttered.
The room fell quiet for a second.
Ithilien leaned forward, her hands resting on the edge of the table, her focus locked on the map.
"We don't scatter," she said. "We move together. If this is bigger than one location, then he's not operating randomly. There's a pattern."
Kidd's gaze stayed on her.
"You're taking point on that?"
She didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
No one argued.