The tunnel felt smaller now.
Not physically.
But in the way space contracts when something more dangerous than violence steps into it.
Ren didn't lower his guard.
Didn't relax his stance.
But something had shifted.
Because the man in front of them wasn't threatening them with force.
He didn't need to.
"Start talking," Ren repeated.
The man studied him for a moment longer, as if weighing how much truth to give—and how much to let them earn.
"Names matter," he said finally. "You can call me Elias."
Ren didn't respond.
Liora did. "Convenient."
Elias smiled faintly. "Practical."
"You've been tracking us, manipulating exposure, testing reactions," Ren said. "That's not practical. That's calculated."
"Everything worth doing is."
The faint hum of the tunnel lights flickered overhead, casting Elias's face briefly into shadow before revealing it again. He looked unchanged by it.
Unbothered.
Like the darkness worked for him.
"You said this isn't about the syndicate," Liora said. "So say what it is about."
Elias shifted his attention to her.
"You're looking for your sister."
The words landed like a strike.
Liora went completely still.
Ren felt it instantly—the change in her posture, the way her breath hitched just slightly before she forced it steady again.
"How do you know that?" she asked.
Elias didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Not enough to threaten.
Just enough to make it clear he wasn't afraid of either of them.
"I know because," he said quietly, "your sister wasn't taken by the syndicate."
Silence shattered.
Liora's voice came out sharper than before. "That's not possible."
"It is," Elias said.
"No," she snapped. "Everything points to them—her investigation, the people she was following, the connections—"
"Surface connections," Elias interrupted gently. "Not origin."
Ren watched her carefully.
The conflict in her expression was immediate.
Hope.
Fear.
Anger.
Because if Elias was right…
Then everything she'd been chasing—
Everything she believed—
Was wrong.
"That's not something you get to just say," she said, voice tight. "You don't walk into a tunnel and rewrite my entire reason for being here."
"I'm not rewriting it," Elias replied. "I'm correcting it."
Ren stepped in.
"Enough," he said.
Elias's gaze shifted back to him.
"You're playing with leverage," Ren continued. "You think you can control this conversation by dangling information. That only works if we believe you."
"And you don't?" Elias asked.
Ren held his stare.
"I think you want something," he said. "And this is how you get it."
A pause.
Then—
"Yes," Elias said simply.
Honest.
Direct.
Liora blinked slightly, thrown off by the lack of denial.
"Finally," she muttered. "Something real."
Ren's voice stayed level. "What do you want?"
Elias looked at him like he'd been waiting for that exact question.
"You," he said.
The tunnel seemed to tighten again.
Liora's head snapped toward Ren.
Ren didn't move.
"Not interested," he said.
Elias's expression didn't change. "You haven't heard the terms."
"I don't need to."
"You do if you want to keep her alive."
That did it.
The temperature in the tunnel dropped instantly.
Ren took a step forward, slow and controlled, but there was nothing subtle about the threat behind it.
"Be very careful," he said.
Elias didn't flinch.
"Or what?" he asked calmly. "You'll do what you did in the tunnel earlier? Let that fracture inside you take over again?"
Ren's hand curled into a fist.
Red Surge responded immediately.
A faint pulse of crimson flickered beneath his skin.
Elias noticed.
Of course he did.
"That," Elias said softly, "is exactly what makes you valuable."
Liora looked between them, confusion and realization colliding. "You know what that is."
"Yes."
"Then explain it," she demanded.
Elias's gaze stayed on Ren.
"His condition isn't random," he said. "It isn't a side effect of street fighting or some underground enhancement gone wrong."
Ren's jaw tightened.
He already knew where this was going.
"It's engineered," Elias continued.
The word echoed.
Engineered.
Liora's breath caught. "What?"
Ren didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm it.
He just stood there, silent, as something old and buried pressed harder against the surface.
"You didn't tell me that," she said.
"I didn't tell you a lot of things," Ren replied.
Elias stepped closer again.
"Because he doesn't know everything himself," he said.
That made Ren's head snap up.
"What do you mean?"
Elias tilted his head slightly, studying him.
"The fracture," he said. "The energy. The way it responds to emotional stress, to violence, to proximity—"
"Stop," Ren said.
Elias didn't.
"—it was never meant to stabilize."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Liora looked at Ren, something like fear creeping into her eyes. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Elias said calmly, "he's dying."
Silence crashed down again.
Louder this time.
Heavier.
Ren felt it in his chest—not the pain, not the fracture—
The truth.
Because part of him had always known.
"I figured that out already," Ren said quietly.
Elias nodded. "Yes. But not how fast."
Liora stepped closer to Ren. "How fast?"
Elias answered without hesitation.
"Faster now that he's using it."
Her hand found Ren's arm again.
Tighter this time.
"Why are you telling us this?" she asked.
"Because I can stop it," Elias said.
That changed everything.
Ren's gaze sharpened. "No, you can't."
"I can," Elias replied.
"How?"
Elias smiled faintly.
"That," he said, "is where the offer comes in."
The tunnel lights flickered again.
For a moment, the shadows deepened enough to swallow all three of them.
Then the light returned.
Nothing had changed.
And everything had.
"What do you want me to do?" Ren asked.
Liora turned toward him sharply. "Ren—"
He didn't look at her.
Didn't break eye contact with Elias.
Because if there was even a chance—
Even a small one—
That this man wasn't lying…
Then walking away wasn't just risking his life.
It was choosing his death.
Elias's smile didn't widen.
But it didn't fade either.
"Simple," he said.
A pause.
Then—
"You work for me."
The words hung in the air.
Heavy.
Final.
Liora shook her head immediately. "No."
Ren didn't speak.
Elias continued, voice smooth, controlled.
"You do what I ask. When I ask. No deviations. No independent actions that interfere with my objectives."
"And in return?" Ren asked.
Elias's gaze flicked once more to the faint crimson glow beneath his skin.
"I keep you alive."
Silence.
Then Liora stepped in front of Ren.
"No," she said again. "Absolutely not."
Elias looked at her.
Not annoyed.
Not dismissive.
Just… certain.
"You don't get a vote in this," he said.
Ren's hand came down on her shoulder before she could respond.
"Stop," he said quietly.
She turned toward him, eyes wide. "You can't actually be considering this."
He didn't answer right away.
Because the truth was—
He was.
"I don't trust him," she said.
"Neither do I."
"Then why—"
"Because," Ren cut in, voice low, "he's the only one who's not trying to kill us right now."
Elias inclined his head slightly.
"Not immediately," he corrected.
Liora stared at both of them like they'd lost their minds.
"This is insane," she said.
"Yes," Ren agreed.
Then he looked at Elias.
"And if I refuse?"
Elias's expression didn't change.
"You won't," he said.
Confidence.
Absolute.
Ren hated it.
"Try me," he said.
Elias's gaze shifted—just slightly.
Past Ren.
To Liora.
And in that single glance, the threat became clear without a single word being spoken.
Ren felt something inside him snap.
Not fully.
Not yet.
But enough.
The crimson beneath his skin flared faintly again.
Liora saw it.
"Ren—"
He stepped forward.
Closer to Elias.
Closer to the edge.
"You don't get to use her," he said, voice dropping into something colder than before.
Elias met his gaze.
Unmoved.
"Then don't give me a reason to."
Silence fell one last time.
The kind that comes before a decision that changes everything.
Ren stood there, caught between two outcomes he couldn't escape—
Serve a man he didn't trust.
Or lose the only person who had chosen to stand beside him anyway.
For the first time in a long time…
There was no clean way out.
Only consequences.
And whichever path he chose next—
Would define everything that came after.