Clyde was stumbling backward, his boots splashing through the blood that the police were pretending didn't exist.
"What?! Why?!" he shrieked, his voice cracking into a high-pitched wail.
"What did she do to you? How much did she pay you to be blind?"
The Sergeant didn't even blink. He just kept that shark-like smirk fixed on Clyde.
"She didn't do anything," a voice boomed from the entrance. It was deep, authoritative, and vibrated with a familiar gravelly warmth.
"But he did."
I stiffened. I knew that voice. We all turned toward the shattered doors, and my heart nearly stopped.
Walking through the line of tactical officers like he owned the precinct was the most unexpected person I could imagine.
Uncle Kier.
He wasn't in his usual relaxed attire; he looked sharp, dangerous, and held a silenced pistol with the ease of a man who had used it a thousand times.
He didn't look at the 'dead' body. He didn't look at the police. He pointed his finger directly at my father, who was still shaking on the floor.
"Uncle Kier?" I managed to croak out.
Right behind Uncle Kier, two more figures emerged from the wall of police officers: Kerien and Keigen. My brothers.
He saw me and his hardened expression melted into a genuine, lopsided smile. He strode over, ignoring the guns and the chaos, and pulled me into a crushing bear hug. He clapped my back so hard I winced. "How are you, man? Still in one piece?"
I couldn't even find the words to reply. My brain was a tangled mess of 'how' and 'why.'
He didn't wait for an answer. He pulled away, his eyes turning toward Elara. She was still standing there, holding the syringe, but her 'devil' persona seemed to flicker. She let out a long, dramatic sigh and looked up at the ceiling, closing her eyes as if she were bracing for a lecture.
Uncle Kier walked straight up to her. Without a word of greeting, he raised his hand and gave her a sharp, playful smack on the back of her head.
"Ow!" Elara groaned, rubbing the spot and finally dropping the terrifying smirk. "What was that for?"
"For being a dramatic brat," Kier grumbled, though his eyes were dancing with relief.
"I told you to wait for the perimeter check. But no, you had to go in, drop bodies from the ceiling, and play 'Devil' for the audience. Do you have any idea how much paperwork this 'invisible body' stunt is going to cost me?"
"It was for the aesthetic, Uncle ," she muttered, her voice losing that cold, demonic edge and sounding... well, like a teenager.
"You wouldn't understand the psychological impact of a well-timed thud."
"I understand that you're a headache," he retorted, though he let out a breath of relief.
The atmosphere had shifted from a massacre to a bizarre family argument. Elara looked at the three men who had just crashed her grand finale and mumbled under her breath, "I shouldn't have called you."
Kier narrowed his eyes, leaning in. "What? Did you say something, brat?"
Elara rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck.
"No," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness as she straightened her jacket. "I didn't say anything. But remember, Uncle... you now owe me even more."
Uncle Kier let out a sharp, bark-like laugh. "Add it to the tab, kid.
The warehouse was beginning to feel less like a death trap and more like a chaotic stage play.
With the police standing around like statues and my brothers chatting with the officers, the suffocating terror of the last hour started to thin out.
But for Section E, the nightmare was just being replaced by total confusion. I could hear the frantic whispers of my classmates rippling through the dark corners of the room.
"What is happening?"
"Who is that guy? He looks like a high-ranking officer... but he's hugging Keifer?"
"Wait, he knows Keifer? And he just hit Elara?"
I felt Jay's grip tighten on my hand, her fingernails digging slightly into my palm. She was trembling, her eyes darting between the dead body-that the police were still conveniently ignoring-and the bizarre family reunion unfolding in front of us.
BANG!
The sound of the gunshot exploded through the warehouse, echoing sharply off the metal rafters. Everyone ducked. My heart leaped into my throat as I instinctively pulled Jay behind me.
I looked toward the source. Elara was standing with her arm outstretched, a small, sleek pistol held with terrifying steadiness.
A few yards away, Clyde was screaming on the floor, clutching his leg where a fresh bloom of red was soaking through his pants. He had been trying to sneak toward the back exit during the distraction.
Uncle Kier didn't even flinch at the sound. Instead, he spun around and-Smack!-clipped the back of Elara's head again.
"Ow! What now?!" Elara yelped, rubbing her skull for the third time tonight. She looked genuinely offended.
"Why did you use the gun, you brat?" Kier barked, gesturing wildly at the dozens of tactical officers standing around.
"Look at the room! Do you see all these men in uniform? Do you see the professionals who can just... I don't know... grab him directly?"
Elara huffed, holstering the weapon with a flick of her wrist that looked far too practiced. "He was escaping, Uncle. I was being efficient."
"Efficiency involves less paperwork!" Kier retorted. "You just shot a witness in front of an entire precinct!"
"Ugh!" Elara crossed her arms, leaning back on her heels. She shot a look of pure loathing at the sobbing Clyde.
"I just wanted to. He's irritating. His voice was giving me a migraine, and honestly, the bullet was a mercy for all of us."
I stared at her, then at the Sergeant, who was currently looking at his watch as if he were waiting for a bus, completely ignoring the fact that a teenage girl had just shot a man in front of him.
"Are you all together?!" Keizer's voice cracked into a desperate, jagged shout. "The police... my own sons... Kier? Why is the police helping you?!"
He pointed a shaking finger at William's remains, but the officers continued to stare at the walls as if they were suddenly fascinated by the peeling paint.
Elara didn't answer immediately. She shifted her gaze toward Uncle Kier, her expression losing its teenage sass for a split second.
She waited. Kier's face hardened, his jaw setting into a grim line of authority, and he gave her a slow, solemn nod.
The permission was granted. The mask was coming off for good.
She turned back to Keizer, her eyes turning into two chips of ice. "Do you really want to know?" she asked, her voice dropping into that low, dangerous hum.
"Because once you know, there's no such thing as 'prison' for you anymore. There's only 'disappearance.'"
She flicked her wrist toward Dylan. Without a word, he turned and marched out the heavy iron doors.
Then, she turned toward us-the bruised, battered, and utterly bewildered members of Section E. She let out a long breath, her eyes lingering on Jay's pale face before rolling them toward Uncle Kier.
"Now," she said, her tone softening just a fraction, "you all have seen more than enough drama for one lifetime. I think it's time you all should go."
The response was instantaneous.
"NO!"
We shouted it in such perfect unison that it echoed like a gunshot. Even the police officers flinched.
Elara stared at us, her gaze sweeping over the stubborn faces of Section E. She looked like she wanted to argue, to force us out, but then she saw the fire in our eyes-the same fire she had spent months trying to hide.
She let out a massive, frustrated sigh and scratched the back of her head, her shoulders slumping. "Whatever," she muttered under her breath, turning back toward my father.