Inside the motel room, Kai, Sven, Nadya, Isaac, and Amina were still gathered around the TV, trying to piece together what exactly had gone down on Takeshi's side. They had more questions than answers, but they all came to realise the same thing - they hardly knew anything about Takeshi.

Be it because he never spoke or because he was very mysterious, that was to be expected.

However, they were certain of one thing.

"It's out of character for him," Nadya muttered, with the others nodding in agreement.

"Takeshi's not the type to act so openly and recklessly. That guy's a walking ghost. Why would he be out there slicing apart buildings in the middle of the city?"

Kai didn't say anything. But the unease curled low in his gut.

Takeshi was strong, unbelievably so, but not invincible. No one was. Not when there were mutants like Thundercutter walking around with Association funding and enough PR to make a massacre look like a heroic rescue.

If it had been any other mutant, they wouldn't have worried at all, but it was a man who rivalled Takeshi in swordsmanship and had an even more terrifying mutant ability. They were also in a city with plenty of mutants, many of whom served the association in one way or another.

Kai's jaw tightened. There was no way to confirm if Takeshi had made it out in one piece. All visuals were cut off, and they had no way of getting in touch with him.

All they could do was hope that he showed up again in one piece.

It wasn't like they could rush over to help or search for him.

He was across the city, and even if they somehow managed to get there without drawing attention and being chased around by the authorities, it would already be too late.

And if Takeshi couldn't handle it himself, they wouldn't be of much help.

But it was certainly out of character for the mysterious figure to act so brazenly and publicly. It was hard to decipher the thoughts of the expressionless, blindfolded man, but the fact that the other mutant was also a swordsman hinted at something more.

With these thoughts bouncing around her head and others, Nadya couldn't help but feel hesitant to continue.

'Maybe it's time to call this mission off…'

The thought came unbidden, and for a brief second, it sounded like the only sane option. Things had already spiralled too far. And once the AMC got involved and placed its target on them, there was no putting the genie back in the bottle.

The AMC wasn't just some shadow organisation. It was a hammer backed by the weight of the U.S. government. Hundreds of elite soldiers. Experimental tech. Satellite surveillance. Suppression squads.

And worst of all?

They didn't even need powers to be dangerous.

No abilities. No mutations. Just cold efficiency, endless funding, and the legal freedom to treat any mutant as a biological threat. That's why the AMC was feared. Because when they came knocking, they didn't come to talk.

As for the mission itself? Nadya rolled her eyes.

'It's not like we're going to get docked pay or something,' she thought dryly. 'The Mutant Outlaws aren't exactly big on structure. No command chain. No briefings. Just half-assed orders and slogans about mutant freedom. You fail, oh well. You succeed, great.'

But then her expression shifted, eyes narrowing, mouth twisting into a grimace after searching through all her pockets.

"…Wait. Damn it!"

Sven blinked. "What now?"

"Shadow. That bastard didn't give us a Spatial Pulse."

The motel room fell silent again.

They all knew what that meant.

Without a Spatial Pulse, there was no emergency extraction. No Spatial Rift opening. No sudden getaways.

They were stuck.

Normally, Shadow would monitor from a safe location, ready to open a portal to a fallback zone, usually Volkorye for Nadya or another mutant sanctuary in some lawless corner of the world.

But now?

They were on their own.

"No backup. No extraction," Nadya muttered. "We have to find our own way out."

Sven gave a low whistle. "Guess that means we're not quitting."

Kai finally spoke again, voice steady. "And I can't leave the city anyway. Not yet."

There was too much unfinished business.

The AMC. Seraphina. His memories. Nyx.

Too many ghosts chasing him in the dark. Too many threads tangled in blood.

His powers had grown exponentially. Stronger. Sharper. Hungrier. But physically, he could still blend into a crowd. It wasn't like he had horns or giant wings. Just crimson eyes and messy black hair tied loosely at the back. Unless he used his ability, he looked barely threatening.

The same went for the others. Isaac wore his hood low. Sven looked like your average motorcycle enthusiast. Even Nadya's bright orange hair could be hidden beneath a hat.

And this city?

It was the perfect cover.

Overrun with mutants, both licensed and rogue. Authorities crawling like ants. There were multiple association branches, but also alleys that led to nowhere. Clubs that answered to no law. Sewers and backstreets where no surveillance could reach.

'We'll be fine,' Kai told himself. 'And it's not like we have much of a choice.'

He was calm and had come to terms with his predicament.

Still, when the others collapsed onto the creaky motel beds, seeking whatever sleep they could, Kai found he couldn't rest. His body was battered. His mind was exhausted. But he was still too alert and wired to even think about sleeping.

They had also been asleep not too long ago, since it had been early in the morning before suddenly being sent to New York, where it was the middle of the night.

So he stepped outside into the cool night air, leaned against the rusted railing of the second-floor walkway, and pulled out the crumpled pack of cigarettes he'd found half-buried in the drawer.

It was a habit he once couldn't understand, but now…

He lit one.

The smoke was harsh, acrid. The taste made him cough the first time, but after a while, it didn't matter. The bitterness in his mouth felt… grounding. Familiar. He didn't like it, but he no longer disliked it either.

And it was weirdly soothing.

The scent curled into his clothes, into his hair. The night wind was chilly, but the cigarette gave him something to focus on. Something other than the looming shadow of everything they'd just stirred.

He stared at the sky, lips twitching faintly.

'Guess I'm becoming addicted… Just like the old man.'

His chest ached slightly. Maybe it was a memory. Maybe it was just the crash after pushing his body too far.

But he didn't dwell on it. He just looked ahead. Toward the dark city skyline. Toward the places he had to go. Toward the people he had to find.

His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, carried off by the night breeze.

"We'll meet again soon enough."

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