The Gifted Divide

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." - Martin Luther King Jr.

* * * *

The meeting room was quiet, except for the low hum of the overhead lights and the soft flickering of the large holo-screen at the front wall, the projection casting a pale glow across the faces of Team Alpha.

The chairs around the conference table were occupied, but the air was thick with something else—discontent, fatigue, and even tension. And an unmistakable undercurrent of things left unsaid.

Elijah stood at the head of the table, tapping a few final commands into the slim black tablet in his hands. His eyes were trained steadily on the rotating graphs and names on the display.

Behind him on the screen was a holographic chart. It was a list. A damning, growing list.

DEFECTORS – ESA SPECIAL UNITS

Status: Unverified or Missing – 23

Confirmed Defected – 18

Presumed Dead – 11

Beneath those grim numbers was a stream of ID photos—some blurred, some with red overlays, and some were simply greyed out.

"Another four confirmed defectors this week," Elijah said, his voice calm and steady despite the storm he felt building inside. "This is the third week in a row where the count has gone up. That makes—"

"This is number what now?" Leonid cut in, his arms crossed as he leaned back in his seat. His tone was flat, but there was something brittle underneath it, something like weariness buried beneath the cold logic of statistics. "The number that is leaving the ESA. Or rather, defecting."

Taylor, who sat across from him with her arms folded, scoffed sharply. "Are you surprised? They probably decided to take their chances out there instead of wait around for the hunters to hunt them down, too. Especially the ones who've got Gifted family. Or were even Gifted themselves."

Elijah didn't respond. He didn't need to. The weight of the truth hung there on its own, pressing down like the humid air before a thunderstorm.

Allen sighed from where he sat beside Jonan, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Team Delta isn't doing so hot these days, either. I heard they're having some serious internal conflict. Misha's spending more time trying to stop members of his team from committing murder than anything else."

Taylor's mouth twitched. "Let me guess. Maia?" Allen gave a slow nod. "Yeah. Figures."

"We all knew Misha never wanted her on his team to begin with," Allen said, his voice dry and edged with something sharp. "Honestly, I was convinced the director must have bribed him with something to get him to accept her at all. Maia never hid how much she hates the Gifted. Remember when Aegis blew up HQ nearly three years ago? When we apprehended that Gifted girl at Agnis?"

Jonan winced, visibly remembering. "Maia said some…awful stuff. Like really awful. I thought Misha was gonna strangle her in the middle of the meeting."

"Well, that's Delta's problem, not ours, even if we're both Special Ops," Elijah cut in coolly, tapping to move to the next screen of his report. "Let's focus on what we can actually deal with. Their internal problems don't need to be ours."

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Taylor wasn't done, though. "They're still our backup squad, like it or not. If things keep escalating the way they are, we might be forced to work with them more directly."

Leonid frowned. "Maia's hatred isn't even tactical. It's personal. You can feel it, like she's just waiting for a reason to act on it. I don't know how Misha deals with her, considering that both Misha and Louis are Gifted."

"She's not just a liability," Allen murmured. "She's dangerous. Especially now. And I haven't forgotten how she actually shot Lucas at Blackpool, even if she was trying to target one of Aegis at that time."

And Elijah knew exactly what Allen meant.

The situation in Eldario was a powder keg with too many open flames. The hunters had gone from shadowy oppressors to full-blown aggressors, aided by a populace more than willing to look the other way as long as they weren't the ones bleeding. The fear had twisted the nation like a blade through cloth—frayed, thin, and ready to rip.

Even within the ESA, the divide between Gifted and Normal agents was becoming unbridgeable.

Elijah let the quiet sit for a moment before giving a brief nod. "That's everything on my end." He turned to the man at the far end of the table. "Lucas, anything to add?"

Silence.

Lucas Alescio was usually the first to respond. The composed leader of Team Alpha, the one they all relied on to keep everything grounded, especially when the situation around them was spiralling into chaos. But now, he was staring at the table, unfocused.

"Lucas?"

Lucas blinked, lifting his head, seeing the questioning looks from his teammates. "I… Sorry. No. Nothing."

"…Meeting adjourned," Elijah said quietly.

Chairs scraped. The others rose, gathering their things. But the tension didn't dissipate. It lingered, sharp and unspoken. Every single member of Team Alpha gave Lucas a look—concerned, guarded, some even worried. But no one said a word.

Leonid paused beside Lucas briefly, as if wanting to speak, then chose not to.

Within moments, they were gone. Only Elijah remained.

He powered down the holo-screen, the room dimming as the holographic charts vanished. Then he turned, his arms folding slowly as he looked at Lucas, still sitting motionless in his chair.

"…You okay?" Elijah asked softly.

Lucas didn't respond.

Elijah stepped around the table, stopping just short of where Lucas sat. He didn't press. Not yet.

"I think I know what's bothering you," Elijah said finally. "You've been distracted ever since the Blackpool mission. More than distracted. I'm guessing it started after you saw what was on the data card I gave you last week."

Lucas didn't move. Then, finally, he spoke. "Was that what you meant?"

"…Was what what I meant?"

Lucas shot to his feet, slamming his palms onto the table hard enough to echo through the room. "Don't play dumb, Elijah! You know what was on that damn card. Was any of that true?!"

Elijah didn't flinch. "I wouldn't give you false or exaggerated information. You know I always verify the data I pass on. Especially something that heavy."

Lucas stared at him for several moments, then slowly lowered himself back into the chair. His voice came out quieter. Almost resigned. "Then it's true. About my father. About…Gene Alescio."

A long silence followed.

"It depends on who you're asking," Elijah said quietly. "If you ask someone from the underground? He's the Bogeyman. The monster who hunted children. If you ask a hunter?" His voice darkened. "He's a legend. A war hero."

Lucas swallowed hard. "Was that why they looked at me like that?" His voice trembled slightly. "Why they always seem to glare or act like I got the plague when I say my name?"

"…Yeah."

Lucas clenched his fists. "…Have you ever wondered?" he whispered. "If Misha and I hadn't been Gifted… Would we have become monsters, too? Would my father… Would he have turned us into hunters, too?"

Elijah froze.

Lucas looked up at him, his eyes red-rimmed but dry. "If things were just a little different. If my father had his way. If I didn't have this Gift, this…curse. Would I have ended up like him?"

Elijah exhaled slowly. "You're not your father."

"You're not answering the question."

A silence fell again, heavy and suffocating.

"…I think Misha knew," Elijah said at last. Lucas turned to him sharply. "Have you never wondered why your brother never uses your last name during investigations? He knows what it'll cost him if someone connects the dots. And considering who his best friend is, do you really think Louis wouldn't have found out?" He sighed.

"Louis wasn't raised in the underground the way Taylor and I were. But he isn't a stranger to them. I know you want to protect Misha, Lucas. But Misha probably knew long before any of us did. You know how he is. He would've dug into his own family's files the moment someone glared at him twice."

Lucas was quiet. Then, finally, he spoke again. "…The data you gave me. That wasn't everything, was it?"

"No," Elijah admitted. "Just what I could get my hands on."

Lucas exhaled. "I need more. If Gene Alescio was a former hunter, then his files would still exist."

Elijah frowned. "Lucas—"

"I need to know the kind of man he was."

"Don't say it," Elijah warned.

"If Blackpool's off the table," Lucas continued, "then Kald is my next best option. That's the hunters' secondary base. Their archives are—"

"Lucas," Elijah interrupted, horror dawning in his voice, staring at Lucas like he'd just grown two new heads. "Please tell me you're joking. You're not seriously considering breaking into Kald."

Lucas didn't look away. "I'm not asking you to help me. I just…need answers."

"You won't survive that kind of mission, Lucas!" Elijah snapped. "You think the hunters just let people waltz into one of their bases, especially after Blackpool?! Their security is on alert levels we've never seen before. Even Louis wouldn't risk it, and he's the only one who could probably bypass their systems. If you go in there, you won't come back. You'll be lucky if they just kill you."

Lucas stood. Elijah's heart sank. "I won't involve you. I promise. But I need to know the truth. I need to know if the man who raised me…was ever real."

And with that, Lucas turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing as he disappeared down the corridor.

Elijah stood there, motionless. Then he whispered to himself, barely audible, "Why do I get a bad feeling about this?" His fingers gripped the edge of the table. "…This isn't good."