The Gifted Divide

The problem is that no matter how good your intentions, eventually you want to kill someone yourself. - Kenneth Cain (Emergency Sex (And Another Desperate Measures); True Stories from a War Zone)

* * * *

A delicate finger tapped idly against the side of the glass, coaxing it into a wobble before it stilled again on the worn countertop, gleaming faintly under the muted light of Cross Café.

The scent of whiskey reached Sera a second before the glass slid into view. She looked up to find Timo's knowing expression already waiting.

"Last one for the night, Sera," he said with his usual soft sternness, nodding to the amber liquid. "You can't drive if you're inebriated. Especially not with that monster of a bike you came here on."

Sera scoffed and waved him off with a flick of her hand. "I can't get drunk," she said simply, her voice edged with something between pride and weariness.

Timo didn't respond, only returned to polishing the glass in his hand with his ever-present cloth. He knew she wasn't lying.

High-class Gifted like her often metabolised toxins faster than the body could absorb them, alcohol included. Poisons, drugs, and tranquillisers—most never lingered long in their system. Their bodies simply burned through them.

Only one poison ever made an exception. One that Timo knew intimately. The same one that had nearly killed Ness nearly two years ago, if not for Laura's desperate intervention.

"So," Timo began after a beat of silence, his eyes flickering toward her with a gentler expression. "Why are you here, Sera? Running from the aftermath?"

Sera exhaled, her breath fogging slightly on the glass. Aegis was no doubt waiting for her return, wherever their elusive boathouse was currently docked tonight.

And they'd have questions. Dozens of them.

The duel Sera had fought with Ebis Ivanor two nights ago still reverberated through the underground like a tremor before a quake. Even now, whispers echoed down every corridor of the Abyss, every stairwell and bar counter.

A Pit duel hadn't been invoked in years. And not against a hunter.

And if the Abyss knew… Then the hunters certainly knew.

Sera dropped her head into her hands with a groan, shoulders sagging beneath her dark coat. "Would it be cowardly," she murmured through her fingers, "if I said I'm afraid to face them? To tell them everything?"

Timo paused in his motions. His silence was thoughtful, his eyes faintly narrowed as he regarded her. There was no pity in his gaze—only understanding, sharp and quiet. The kind of gaze that weighed things behind the words.

He had been an Enforcer once. Sera still didn't know why he'd left, but she would bet her beloved motorcycle that he hadn't fully cut ties with the underground.

Informant, perhaps. Or maybe Larissa's eyes and ears here in Aurora.

Sera wouldn't put it past Larissa to plant someone like him so close to the surface, so close to people like her.

So it stood to reason that while she never voiced her intentions aloud—not to Timo, not to anyone outside Aegis, he had still likely pieced it together. Enough, at least.

"If they abandon you after this," Timo said at last, his voice low and steady, "then they were never your people to begin with."

The words hit her harder than expected. They echoed too closely to what Zest had once told her.

Sera clenched her jaw and rubbed absently at the inside of her wrist, where the black blade tattoo glinted faintly in the low light—her promise to the dead, and to the living who still fought in their name.

"I've come too far to stop," she muttered. "Even if I have to finish it alone. I owe it to the ones who died… And to the ones still chained."

Timo opened his mouth, but whatever he meant to say was interrupted by the soft chime of the doorbell. Both turned.

Lucas Alescio stepped inside, a tall silhouette cloaked in exhaustion, raven-black hair tied back in a loose ponytail, onyx eyes dim under the warm lighting of the café. His usual black jacket looked more wrinkled than usual, shoulders slightly hunched with the weight of something unsaid.

"Hey, Lucas," Timo greeted mildly, glancing toward the clock. "We close in an hour."

"I'll be gone by then," Lucas replied hoarsely, sinking into the seat next to Sera. "Just…give me something strong. Dealer's choice."

"Sure."

"It feels like we keep running into each other lately," Sera said, her tone unreadable as her mismatched eyes tracked his movements. He didn't even glance her way, just slumped over the counter, fingers tracing faint circles on the surface.

Was it coincidence? Or was he keeping tabs on her?

Lucas finally spoke, his voice heavy with weariness. "I had to apprehend a man for murder this morning," he said quietly. "He killed his wife. Only… Later, Leonid told me the wife was trying to kill their kid." A pause. "A Gifted."

Sera's hand tightened around her glass. She didn't move, didn't speak. Her face remained a mask, but inwardly, something cracked.

Across the counter, Timo winced, the corners of his mouth tightening. Another case. Another tragedy. The kind of story they'd both heard too many times.

In Sera's case, however, witnessed too many times. She'd seen too many bodies, too many burned-out shelters, and too many children stuffed into government vans like livestock.

"And with how the laws are now," Lucas went on, not seeing the way her body had gone still, "he'll probably get the death penalty. The kid's in ESA custody now."

Sera's grip on the glass nearly shattered it.

"I know how broken the laws are," Lucas said. "The hunters have more authority than we do, even though we're supposed to be law enforcement. It's not fair. We…" He broke off, his fists clenched. "We're powerless against them."

That is the unfortunate truth that Lucas had learned not even two years after accepting Leonid's invitation.

Officially, they're a separate organisation from the hunters and even the Council. But unofficially, there are lots of occasions when they have to abide by the hunters, something that Lucas knew many of his colleagues were gritting their teeth about.

At this point, Lucas honestly won't be surprised to learn if at least half of the ESA either comprises of hunters or hunter sympathisers. The Gifted Task Force for instance—the members are most likely more of the former than the latter.

Sera's silence was glacial.

He didn't know. He still didn't know. After everything.

She had never told Lucas how much his blind idealism infuriated her. How it always had. Not because it was wrong to want to save people, but because it was naïve to believe you could do so without understanding the cost.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Because men like him always wanted to be the hero without dirtying their hands. Because they had the luxury of hope.

She didn't.

"I'm not gonna say 'I told you so', but…" Timo slid a filled glass toward him. "I did tell you you'd see things you wish you hadn't."

"If you came here for sympathy, you're barking up the wrong tree," Sera added coldly. Her voice was low and hard. Lucas blinked in surprise at her sudden venom. "You're ESA, Lucas. I don't know what you even expected when you joined that organisation. You knew what they were before you even joined. You heard the rumours. So don't act like you didn't know what you were getting into. Why else would you be questioning yourself back then?"

Lucas looked stricken. "I thought… I could change it from the inside…"

Sera almost laughed. Bitterness edged her tongue. "Then you're a fool." His breath caught. "You think the world is built on rules and fairness. It's not. It's built on power. And the law? The law is just an illusion written by whoever holds that power. Most of the time, the law fails the common people. The punishment never really fits the crime—assuming that they are even punished, to begin with. Do you think justice exists for the common people? For the Gifted who live every day wondering if they'll vanish in the night?"

Lucas looked like he'd been slapped. Her words were harsher than she'd ever spoken to him before. Perhaps harsher than he deserved.

And those words are entirely too similar to the words Misha had said to him before.

But they had been building in Sera's chest for months—words she never gave voice to because she had wanted to believe in him, once. Had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he could be the exception. The one who saw the rot and still tried.

But he was no different. And she had no more patience for half-hearted knights.

"You want to change the system? Then ask yourself—what are you willing to lose?" Sera hissed. "Because you will lose something. Your hands won't stay clean. And if you hesitate, people die. You're too naïve. You think that as long as you get the 'bad guy', everything will be fine in the end. The truth isn't so simple, Lucas. In the end, what makes someone 'bad'? A 'bad person' to you, might be a 'good person' to someone else." She finished her drink in one final motion and stood up. "Timo, I'm leaving."

Timo only nodded. Sera walked out without sparing Lucas another glance.

A silence lingered long after she was gone. Timo sighed and took her glass, drying it with the cloth again. "You pissed her off," he said, matter-of-fact.

Lucas looked down, stunned. "I didn't mean—"

"She's angry because she knows how this works," Timo cut in. "And because she's watched people like you come and go, thinking they could change something that's already rotted down to the roots." He exhaled. "Lucas, why are you even with the ESA?" He wanted to know. "You know what they are like by this point. Everyone in Eldario knows that they are corrupted. Easily bought. Why are you trying to change a dying system?"

Lucas stared into his drink.

"There were people like you before. Scientists wanting to 'fix' the Gifted. Politicians trying to make a name by 'protecting' them. Most of them disappeared. Others got silenced."

Timo's voice dropped. "At this point? Most Gifted don't want your help. They just want to be left alone. But the system won't even let them exist in peace. That's what pisses Sera off. That you still don't get that. I don't think Sera even believes that the system can be changed anymore. The hunters have too deep a hold on this country for way too long. It's too corrupted. The old laws that were used to keep them in check were all but abolished by them and their allies by the time the war ended. You're on a sinking ship, and all of us can see that."

Lucas raised his eyes slowly. There was a quiet defiance in them, even now. "Maybe. But I still have to try."

Timo looked at him with something like pity. "Suit yourself," he said. "But remember this: if you're planning to stand against the hunters, you'd better be ready to die for it. Because they won't hesitate. The hunters have eyes and ears everywhere in the ESA, something that you know. Those who oppose them or speak out against them have a nasty habit of dying mysteriously. If you want to take them on with your own way, you better be prepared to put your life on the line." He turned away, busying himself with the next glass.

Lucas sat there for a long moment, alone at the bar, as the light from the overhead lamps flickered faintly—dim, but still burning.

* * * *

The only sound that filled the cool night air was the rhythmic tapping of keys on a small portable computer, accompanied by the distant, ever-present crash of waves against the rocks below.

Raul and Lucie sat side by side on the rooftop of the boathouse, perched at the edge of Nerith Bay—a sleepy lakeside town that seemed half-forgotten by the rest of Eldario.

The town's streets were silent, shrouded in shadows and fog, as though the whole world held its breath. Above them, the stars shimmered like scattered fragments of glass on an ink-black canvas. A breeze swept across the lake, brushing Lucie's auburn-red hair back from her face, carrying the scent of salt and rusted iron from old piers.

She sat quietly, knees drawn to her chest, gazing skyward.

Constellations her father had once taught her slowly revealed themselves in the quiet expanse. Familiar patterns traced themselves among the stars—Orion, the Owl's Wing, and even the Flame Serpent. Even as Raul tapped steadily beside her, immersed in whatever data or code flickered on his screen, Lucie's thoughts remained adrift.

Her mind hadn't stopped spinning since two nights ago.

She had known, deep down, that Aegis wasn't clean. Nobody in this world truly was. Even she had blood on her hands, though it was unintentional.

That day in Agnis, when the hunters had cornered her and her father, she had lost control. Fire had swallowed half the district. Some hunters had perished in the blaze. She'd heard rumours that even a few ESA agents hadn't made it out. Her flames didn't discriminate.

Her father, a freelance journalist, had warned her about this world long before that moment. While Lucie had never been an activist in the physical sense, she had inherited his stubbornness—debating tirelessly on forums, raising her voice online, and demanding change.

She'd grown up with his stories of Gifted persecution, his research, and his quiet fury. Even as a civilian, Lucie had long known the truth: Eldario was broken. Its justice was a myth.

But now…

Now she was in too deep, surrounded by people who walked the edge of that darkness. Lucie had seen the aftermath of justice delivered through violence. She'd looked into Sera Kroix's eyes and seen what vengeance truly meant.

"Are you afraid, Lucie? Of Sera?"

The question, spoken gently, pulled her from her thoughts. Raul's voice was soft, low and steady like the waves below, and startling in its intimacy. She hadn't even realised he'd stopped typing.

Lucie blinked. "I… Yeah." She released a breath, pushing a hand through her hair. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't." She paused, her arms wrapped tighter around her legs, eyes falling away from the stars. "I lived a normal life before all this," she gestured vaguely at the quiet town, the rooftop, and the darkness that stretched endlessly behind them. "But even I heard stories about the hunters. What they did to the Gifted. Dad's covered it for years."

Lucie glanced sideways. "He was an activist when he was young. Protested when it was still legal. Sort of. Got arrested more than once. He even spent some time in jail because of it. He mellowed out after I was born… Decided to fight differently. Through journalism. Quietly."

Raul's golden eyes gleamed with interest.

"He posted what he could anonymously—photos, interviews, survivor accounts, and lists of missing Gifted children. But no one ever listened. The blog's still up, though I'm sure it's being tracked. Maybe that's why the hunters really came for us in Agnis. Not just because I'm dormant. But because of him."

Raul nodded, his expression darkening. "That…makes sense. If he's done that much, he's definitely on their list. The hunters don't forget." He leaned back on his palms, gazing up. "You know, most people who challenge them disappear. Silenced. Sometimes with a bullet. Sometimes… They're just never found. Eldario's a democracy on paper. But we both know who really runs things. Many people have either disappeared or died mysteriously over the years when they have opposed the hunters. It's to the point that not many dare to go against them."

Lucie said nothing, her lips tightening. That truth wasn't new, but it never stopped stinging.

On the surface, Eldario is a democracy. But the entire underground knew that it was all a farce. The ones with the true power are the hunters. They controlled the entire law system in Eldario.

"It's why the Abyss locked down after the duel," Raul added, his voice heavy. "Hayder's probably gutting the Enforcers from the inside right now. And I wouldn't be surprised if some dead bodies start surfacing in the canals. Traitors like Ebis…don't last long down there."

Lucie shivered slightly, even with Raul beside her. "I know the world is cruel," she murmured at last. "I know what Sera did was necessary. But…" Her voice faltered.

"But it still rattled you," Raul finished quietly.

Lucie didn't answer, but her silence was answer enough.

Raul shut his laptop with a soft click and turned to face her fully. "Do you want to leave?" Lucie looked up, startled. His expression was unreadable. "Sera said she wouldn't stop us," he added, almost gently.

Though honestly, Raul isn't sure if there is anywhere in Eldario that is safe for Lucie. The ESA knew who she was. As are the hunters. Unlike the rest of Aegis, Lucie is defenceless in a fight, though Laura and some of the others in Aegis have been teaching her.

Lucie's eyes, however, widened at Raul's statement. The question was so…direct. She thought about it. About fleeing. Starting over. Pretending this had never happened.

But the thought of walking away left an ache in her chest.

Lucie shook her head. "A part of me, the civilian part, says yes. It wants to believe there's still a chance at peace. At justice. But…" She swallowed. "But my heart says no. You all helped me. Saved me. You're my friends. My…" She hesitated, her cheeks colouring faintly, "my family."

Raul's shoulders relaxed slightly, though he didn't smile. "You know we won't force you," he said. "But what we're doing… It isn't safe. Or clean. You have to be ready to die for it. And if not, there are other ways you can help. From the sidelines."

Lucie frowned slightly. "You sound like you're trying to talk me out of it."

"I'm trying to make sure you understand the cost." Raul exhaled slowly, then reached into his coat pocket and drew out a slightly battered cigarette pack.

Lucie blinked. "You smoke?"

"Not often," Raul said, placing one between his lips. "Only when I need to think." He lit it with a small metal lighter. The flame flickered briefly, casting a warm glow on his face. He inhaled, then exhaled a stream of smoke that curled into the night air. "I want to tell you a story," he said. "About why I'm here. About what happened to my old gang."

Lucie watched Raul silently, nodding once.

"You know the basics," Raul said. "Alan, the new Dragonfly leader after Yusa, sold me out to the hunters. Betrayed me. A mistake. One he paid for. And not just him. The entire gang. Wiped out by the Premier's orders." He looked away, as though the stars were easier to face than the memory.

"Yusa… He had honour. Never gave me up, no matter what came. That's why he got along with Sera. With Klein. They believed in loyalty. In protecting their own. Alan didn't. He got scared. Made a deal. And in doing so, he doomed everyone. By all rights, Alan should never have involved himself with the underground."

He shook his head. "The point that I'm making is that many people would have been perfectly happy if Alan had just stayed in his little bubble and never made waves, and never involved himself in underground business. If he had just kept to himself, no one else would have to die. If Alan had just acknowledged his weakness, then maybe, I would have more respect for him."

Lucie's voice was soft. "What's your point?"

Raul turned toward her, his golden eyes piercing in the starlight. "You need to choose, Lucie. Do you want a quiet life—somewhere safe? We can get you into the Abyss. Sera would make it happen. Or do you want to stand with us, really stand with us, knowing what it might cost?"

He paused. "Because if you turn your back on us halfway… Because if you do what Alan did—if you betray us, even the Goddess wouldn't be able to help you. If you betray us, there won't be a place left in this world you can hide. Not from Sera."

His words carried no malice. Just truth.

Lucie held his gaze. "I want to change the system," she said, softly but with conviction. "That's why I'm here."

Raul studied her face, then slowly nodded. "Then we'll fight together."

They sat in silence again for a while. The cigarette burned lower in Raul's hand. The waves rolled on. Somewhere in the town, a bell chimed the hour.

Lucie shifted a little closer without realising, her shoulder brushing his. Raul didn't pull away. "You know Sera well, don't you?" she asked.

Raul exhaled smoke again, slower this time. "I do. Knew her before all this. Back when Dragonfly, Whirlwind, and Blade still ran the underground. She, Yusa, and Klein—they were the spine of the underground. The pillars. Now they're all ghosts." He ticked points off on his fingers. "It's honestly no surprise we have so many problems right now with all three gangs decimated. The hunters knew what they were doing." He snorted. "But yeah, I knew Sera through Yusa. And even quite a few of the other Blade members. Like Zest, Leroy, Alisa, and even Lleucu and Jamie." He sighed and shook his head.

To this day, Raul still isn't sure if Lleucu and Jamie were still alive. Half the bodies of Blade's members couldn't even be found. That is if there is even anything large enough of them to identify.

He paused. "But Sera's no ghost. Not yet. And she won't rest until the hunters pay."

Lucie looked away, then back at him. "And you? Why are you still fighting?"

Raul gave a tired smile, something small and almost sad. "Because I still believe we can build something better. Even if it costs me everything."

Before Lucie could respond, the rooftop door creaked open behind them. Tatius stood there, his silhouette outlined by the stairwell light.

"Sera's back," he said simply, jerking his thumb behind him. "Come on down."

Raul stood, crushing the cigarette beneath his heel, then offered Lucie a hand. She hesitated just a moment before taking it.

His fingers were warm. Steady. Like an anchor in the dark.