The sound of dripping water was all that could be heard. In the underground waterway that stretched from the entrance to Zaun's depths—at its dead end. Victor lay across Jace's lap, his back pressed against the stone wall. His breathing remained shallow. His chest rose and fell with each breath, as if confirming he was still alive. Dried blood stained the corner of his mouth. It hadn't changed since last night. Eight days since the coup. That bridge had collapsed eight days ago. The abandoned factory in Chem-Baron territory had been destroyed last night. Powder had been dragged away by Shimmer soldiers last night. Everything happened last night—yet it all felt distant, as if weeks had passed. Jace slipped a hand into his pocket. The Hex Gem was there. The moment his fingertips touched it, a pale blue light illuminated the dark waterway. But it was dimmer than before. The shockwave had drained its radiance noticeably. Energy remained. It remained, but— (If I use it, my last means of stopping Silco disappears.) If he pressed it against Victor's lungs, he could recover by tonight. Jace understood that much. But if he used it, his final option to end Silco's chemical factory would vanish. If Silco survived, thousands more would become test subjects for Shimmer. More Zaun residents would die. His grip on the stone trembled. He couldn't choose either. He couldn't abandon either. Time simply passed, dripping away with the water. "[sarcastic]…While you're frozen there," A voice came. Hoarse. Thin. But unmistakably Victor's voice. "[sarcastic]Do you know how many times my breathing stopped?" Jace went rigid. One second. Two seconds. Laughter burst out. He laughed while crying. It was absurd, pathetic—why did this guy say things like this while dying—and as he laughed, tears spilled down his face. "[crying]…You really are," His voice broke. He couldn't continue. The laughter didn't take long to fade. The moment the echo of laughter dissolved into the waterway—something snapped inside Jace. He punched the wall. A dull thud. The stone was cold, hard, unyielding. Again. And again. He felt the skin of his knuckles scrape. Still, he couldn't stop. "[angry]Why can't I—" His voice shook. He was shouting. "[angry]The hideout, Powder, you—why can't I protect any of it!" He screamed into the darkness of the waterway. It echoed back. His own voice returned to him. That made it worse. Everything spilled out. All the strength he'd tried to maintain shattered in this moment. Victor lay motionless, simply listening to Jace's screams. After a while. "[gentle]…You didn't let go of my hand," The hoarse voice spoke quietly. "[gentle]That night on the bridge." The fist stopped. Jace pulled his hand from the wall. He couldn't turn around. But his legs moved, carrying him back to Victor's side. He sat down and gripped Victor's hand with both of his own, trembling. He couldn't say anything. He didn't need to. He only confirmed that the hand was warm. Victor's fingers moved slightly. They were shaking, weak. But they definitely tapped the back of Jace's hand once, gently. Like encouragement. Like confirmation. Like saying "I'm here"—and from that single gesture, Jace couldn't speak for a long time. ＊ At the same time, deeper down. Silco's hideout lay in the depths of an abandoned water treatment facility two hundred fifty meters underground. Purple mist drifted outside, and the air of Fisher District—Zaun's industrial depths—couldn't be breathed without a gas mask. In a dimly lit room beyond, Powder was there. Chained to a pillar. Both wrists bound together by thin restraints. Purple hair hung disheveled, clinging to her face. Eyes of different colors—one crimson, one silver—stared downward at a single point on the floor. Silco crouched down. Early fifties. Purple chemical liquid injected into the socket of his left eye glowed faintly in the darkness. His face was scarred by chemical damage, but his voice was calm. Quiet, composed—which made it all the more terrifying. "[cold]Did that man see you getting close to Jace?" Powder shook her head. "[cold]I see." Silco slowly stroked his blue hair. "[cold]Your sister Vander—that night, she disappeared and left you behind." Powder's body trembled slightly. "[cold]Jace is the same. The moment the iron grate fell, he abandoned you and ran. Only I am here. That's the truth, isn't it?" "[crying]…Stop." Her voice shook. "[cold]Stop?" Silco laughed. His expression didn't change. Only the corner of his mouth moved slightly. But it was unmistakably a laugh. "[cold]I'm simply stating facts, Powder. You have only me. That's all." The light gradually faded from Powder's eyes. No tears came. Either she'd cried them all out, or none remained—her pupils simply became hollow. She remembered Vander's face. She remembered Jace's face. But Silco's voice sounded so much closer. So much, much closer. "[cold]I have one more task for you." He stood. "[cold]Lure Jace out and steal the stone. That's all." Powder didn't answer. Couldn't answer. No voice came. Her neck wouldn't move. She only stared at the floor. She couldn't stop her own feelings from disappearing somewhere she couldn't reach. ＊ Light began to filter into the waterway. Though distant from the surface, thin light from the ventilation shaft marked Zaun's daytime. Jace slowly surveyed the waterway floor, keeping Victor propped against the wall. Things brought in since last night lay scattered. Remaining medicine from Ekko. Dried meat wrappers. A water flask. And—three empty medicine bottles. He picked one up. It was empty inside. When he flipped it over, he saw something etched into the bottom. A small mark. A serpent coiled around a triangle. Simple, but familiar. Or not familiar. But something caught. Jace moved closer to Victor and showed him the bottle's bottom. "[serious]Ever seen this?" Victor's eyes narrowed. He looked at the bottle. Silence for several seconds. "[gentle]…That's," The hoarse voice spoke, but clearly. "[gentle]The mark of the old water treatment facility in Fisher District. I've heard rumors in Zaun that it's being used as a Shimmer manufacturing plant." Jace's hand stopped. Ekko. He'd been Silco's agent from the start. It all connected now. From the moment he handed over the medicine. From the moment he sold information. He'd known their location and fed it to Silco—it had all been that way from the beginning. Anger didn't come. Something else came before anger. Fisher District. Two hundred fifty meters underground—Powder might be there. That was all that grew large in his chest. "[gentle]…Victor," He called out. No answer. His eyes had closed. As if his strength had run out. Jace reflexively reached out and touched his fingers. They moved. His fingers moved slightly. He was alive. Jace confirmed that movement, then finally switched gears. ＊ Evening came. Moss grew along the waterway wall. Pale green moss nurtured by Zaun's underground humidity. Jace gathered it and mixed it with the remaining medicinal herbs from Ekko. A folk remedy of Zaun—he didn't know the exact proportions or method. But a man who claimed to know everything about Victor had once told him this in a tavern. For lungs infected with Gray, this combination works temporarily. He boiled water in a small vessel and brewed it. He brought the vessel close to Victor's mouth. "[gentle]Can you drink?" Victor slowly opened his mouth. He swallowed, bit by bit. After a while—his labored breathing eased slightly. Not completely. Whether it would last the night was uncertain. But it was a little easier than before. That was enough, Jace decided. He adjusted Victor into the most comfortable position possible. He removed his jacket and draped it over him like a blanket. Then he stood. "[serious]I'm going to Fisher District." He spoke without turning around. "[serious]I'm bringing Powder back and ending Silco's plan." "[gentle]That's reckless." The hoarse voice spoke from behind. Not trying to stop him. Simply stating a fact. Jace didn't turn around. "[serious]Same as not abandoning you. I won't abandon her either." Silence. Victor said nothing. No words of protest came—because he'd known Jace's nature since that night on the bridge. The man who hadn't let go of Victor's hand wouldn't turn back now. Just before departure, Jace took a step forward. A wall. "[sarcastic]That way's a dead end." Jace silently spun around. He began walking again, toward the waterway's depths—the correct direction. This time he didn't hit his head on the wall. Behind him, he heard Victor exhale softly. It sounded exasperated, yet somehow relieved—that kind of sound. Jace didn't turn back. The dark waterway stretched on. Two hundred fifty meters underground. Fisher District. Silco's hideout. No weapons. No allies. The Hex Gem's light was dimmer than before. Still, his feet didn't stop. Victor's breathing grew distant.