A chilling silence fell over the barricaded room, more profound than any growl.
The single, polite knock, knock echoed in their ears, followed by that unnervingly cheerful voice.
"Uhm, was that a girl just now?" Jax's voice, a thin thread of disbelief, finally broke the spell of their silence.
His eyes were wide, darting from face to face, searching for confirmation of the impossible.
"Yes, I think it was," Rill confirmed, her hand instinctively tightening on her rifle, her gaze fixed on the barricaded door. Her voice was strained, a tight whisper.
"Okay, but why is there a girl outside with a bunch of wild bea..." Jax trailed off, the realization hitting him with the force of a physical blow. His eyes widened even further, comprehension finally dawning in, and the blood drained from his face. "Oh."
An Altered.
The thought, cold and heavy as a tombstone, dropped into every single mind in that room.
The monstrous growls now made terrifying sense.
They weren't just wild beasts; they were her wild beasts, her pets, her guard dogs.
Jax swallowed hard, his voice cracking. "Oh God, we're so dead."
Meanwhile, back at the parking garage, a different kind of tension hung in the air.
The convoy had finished packing everything, the two trucks now loaded to capacity, ready to move out at a moment's notice.
Residents milled around, their faces a mixture of anticipation and unease.
"Are we heading there now?" A burly member of the strike team, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder, walked up to Mara, who stood at the edge of the perimeter, her gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of the City Hall complex.
"No, not yet," Mara replied, her voice calm, but with an underlying steel that brooked no argument. "We wait for them to report back first."
"And if there is no report?" the man pressed, a flicker of worry in his eyes.
Mara turned slightly, her gaze piercing. "There will be."
Her conviction, unshakeable and absolute, settled over him.
"Roger that," he replied, giving a curt nod before turning and walking away, leaving her to her silent vigil.
Mara lingered for a moment longer, her eyes scanning the distant building, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.
Then, with a soft sigh, she turned and walked deliberately in the direction of a particular person, her steps light and purposeful.
"Elara, can you please come help me with something?"
Elara, who had been quietly organizing a small stack of reclaimed blankets, suddenly heard her name called.
She looked up, startled, then her eyes widened slightly as she saw it was the convoy head, Mara, approaching her.
Elara felt a peculiar mix of awe and trepidation. "Yes, of course," she replied, her voice soft but eager to help.
Mara offered a small, gentle smile, a rare expression on her usually stern face. "Come with me," she said, leading Elara to a less crowded, quieter area between two large cargo trucks.
Once they were relatively alone, Mara turned and stared at Elara, her gaze intent, lingering for a little bit too long.
Elara, already feeling a prickle of discomfort under the unexpected intensity, shifted her weight.
"What would you like me to help you with, Miss Mara?" she asked quietly, her gaze dropping to her worn boots.
Mara, as though coming back to reality from a deep thought, smiled a little, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "I thought I told you to call me Aunt when we are alone, Elara."
"Oh, right, sorry, Au—ntie," Elara stammered, the word feeling strange on her tongue.
She knew, from Ashen, that Mara was their aunt, a revelation she had only recently been made aware off.
But she couldn't replace the stern, commanding Mara who usually barked orders and occasionally scolded her with this soft, almost sentimental version of her.
It felt weird, almost out of place.
Mara's smile softened further. "You know, you look a lot like your mother. Her eyes, which were always filled with innocence, were just like yours now, bright, curious, and seeing the best in everything, even when the world offered only its worst."
"Really?"
Elara asked back, her own eyes widening slightly at the comparison, a flicker of longing in their depths.
She barely remembered her mother.
"Yes," Mara affirmed, her voice gentle, almost a caress. "And I'm sure she would be incredibly proud of the strong, kind girl you have grown up to be."
Elara finally, genuinely smiled, a soft, radiant light transforming her face.
"Thank you," she whispered, her heart feeling a surprising warmth.
"Now then, back to why I called you," Mara said, her tone subtly shifting, returning to a more serious but still gentle demeanor. Her gaze, though still kind, held a new, probing intensity. "Have you noticed anything strange about your brother lately?"