The Gifted Divide

"Right now I have some choice in the matter. Not whether to die, but when and how. Isn't that a freedom of sort? Oh, and who to take down with me. I have made my list." ― Margaret Atwood (The Testaments)

* * * *

It began with a rumble, not unlike distant thunder, or the groaning of a world about to end.

The walls of ESA headquarters in Zhane City shook with a low vibration, faint at first, but growing louder and stronger, as though the earth itself were shuddering beneath the weight of the country's sins. The hum of the air conditioning paused. A light above the doorway flickered. And then…

BOOM.

The building rocked violently. A sharp tremor cracked the marble floor tiles just beside the heavy-legged desk of Tiara Suzanna Michabelle, the Director of the ESA.

She didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.

She simply closed the thick file folder in her hands—stamped Team Alpha/Team Delta—Status: Defected—and set it neatly on the polished surface of her desk.

Another explosion rocked the building. This one, however, sounded closer.

A distant scream echoed from somewhere down the eastern wing. The ceiling lights went out. A dull red glow from the emergency lights replaced them, casting shadows across the portraits of past ESA directors that lined the office walls.

Tiara's honey-brown eyes didn't stray to the chaos. They stayed fixed on the photo frame sitting at the corner of her desk. A younger version of herself stood there in a snapshot from long ago—silver-blonde hair in a thick braid, an easy smirk playing on her lips. Karl Myrick stood at her side, his arms crossed, his spiky silver hair gleaming even in the old print. And between them, their dark-haired teammate grinned at the camera like they didn't have a care in the world.

Back when they thought the ESA was saving the world.

The office door burst open.

"Director!" A voice barked. A man in the black uniform of Special Ops, blood splattered on his arm. His chest heaved with shallow, panicked breaths. "You need to come with us. The hunters… They're attacking the headquarters. They've breached the perimeter! Security's down, they're killing everyone—"

Tiara turned to look at him, serene. Calm. Like a woman already walking through the eye of the storm. "No," she said softly.

The agent blinked. "Director—?"

"You save yourself." Tiara stood, the heels of her black stilettos clicking against the floor. Her black coat draped over her shoulders fluttered slightly with the wind rushing through the cracked windows. "And tell every other agent still in this building to evacuate immediately."

The agent's face contorted with confusion. "We're not leaving without you, ma'am."

Tiara's voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. "It's too late for the ESA."

The agent hesitated.

"This is our punishment," Tiara said. "For everything we allowed. Everything we ignored. Everything we couldn't stop. I knew this day would come. The rest of them… They chose to pretend otherwise." She looked at him again. "You survive. You get out of here. And if you live long enough to see tomorrow, save Eldario. From the hunters. From what we've become. That's your order."

There was a long pause.

The agent swallowed, then bowed his head. "May the Goddess be with you, Director."

Then he was gone. The office door hissed shut.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Alone now, Tiara stepped around her desk. Her black pencil skirt rustled slightly with the movement as she crouched, sliding open the bottom drawer. From beneath neatly stacked files and an old, dusty pistol license, she retrieved a sleek matte-black handgun.

Engraved along the barrel were the initials T.M.K.

She ran a finger across them. Not a trace of hesitation.

It had been a long time since she'd seen combat. But she hadn't let her skills dull. Not when she knew that one day, they might be all that stood between her and the silence of the grave.

The building trembled again.

Tiara stared into the darkened corners of the office, lit only by crimson emergency lighting and distant flickers of firelight bleeding through shattered windows.

"…Maybe I should have left with you when you did, Karl," Tiara murmured aloud. "We could've vanished. Disappeared somewhere the hunters couldn't touch us." She paused. Her voice was quieter now. "If I see my brother and sister-in-law where I'm going… Will they be angry with me? For failing to raise their daughter?" Her gaze drifted again to the photograph. "I tried. I tried so hard. But how do you protect a child who the world already decided is better off dead?"

Seraphina Kroix. Her niece. Her only family left.

She was supposed to be safe. Hidden. Loved. And instead, she was hunted like prey. By the very people of the country that were supposed to protect her.

Tiara's grip tightened on the gun. Her chest ached. Not with fear, but with quiet, bitter regret. She turned as she heard footsteps approaching.

And then, the door exploded inward.

The hinges were blown clean off with a flash of smoke. And from the smoke emerged five figures cloaked in black hunter gear, their visors gleaming red under the flickering lights.

And leading them was Albert Nicolosi.

He was still heavily wrapped in bandages. His right arm hung limply at his side, bound in thick gauze from elbow to wrist. A walking stick clutched in his left hand now, no longer just for show. He limped into the room like a man who had dragged himself from the brink of death just to return to hell.

And yet, what drew Tiara's gaze was the unmistakable glow in all their eyes.

Blue. Unnatural. Electric. The telltale shimmer of Blue Pandora.

Tiara's voice was cold when she spoke. "So." She clicked the safety off her handgun and rose to full height. "You've finally decided to come after me. I can't say I'm surprised."

Nicolosi smiled, but it was the kind of smile that chilled the blood. "You always were a thorn in my side, Director," he said. His voice was raspy and strained. But it carried weight. "I suppose it's only fitting I pluck you out before the new dawn begins."

Tiara's expression didn't change. "I warned Parliament years ago that the hunters were a mistake," she said. "I told them they were giving wolves the keys to the city when they gave you as much power as they did." Her voice turned colder. "I'm sure the ones still clinging to life as your men slit their throats are regretting not listening."

Nicolosi stepped further into the room. His bandaged hand trembled slightly on the head of the cane. "And you…" He narrowed his eyes. "You've been hiding your true name all this time. But we found it. Tiara Suzanna Michabelle Kroix." He said her name like a curse. "You're the aunt of Seraphina Kroix."

Tiara raised a brow. "I'm more surprised it took you this long to figure that out," she said dryly. "Considering how obsessed with her you are."

Nicolosi's jaw clenched. His eyes, glowing with Blue Pandora, twitched faintly. Tiara noticed. He was deteriorating. The drug was eating at what little remained of his reason.

"I heard what happened at Blackpool," Tiara said. "How Sera's friends turned you into this…broken creature. It's a miracle you even survived when every other hunter that night didn't. I didn't believe the reports at first. But seeing you now?" Her gaze dropped to the cane. "You really are a corpse clinging to purpose. If you've been doping yourself on Blue Pandora, I'm not surprised anymore that you survived what happened at Blackpool. It does explain a lot of things."

Nicolosi snarled. "They think they've won. But they haven't seen what we're preparing. We will cleanse Eldario. We will purify it!"

Tiara's voice was a whisper. "When did you lose your soul, Albert? When did you start forsaking yourself? And your humanity?"

He didn't answer. His fingers twitched violently at the cane's head. His pupils, faintly visible in the corona of blue, dilated irregularly.

"I knew you'd target the ESA," Tiara said. "After Team Alpha and Team Delta stormed Kald, turning half of your base into smoking ruins, and dragged Lucas out from under your nose. I knew Maia Travis was one of yours, probably R&D. And yes, I knew about Neuron. With how much power you stripped away from the ESA for years, all that I could do is minimise the damage. And look the other way when the underground and Aegis started fucking with you."

Nicolosi's expression twisted. "Of course you did," he hissed. "That's why you're a threat. That's why you must die. But not before I use you."

Tiara raised a brow. "Use me?"

Nicolosi grinned. "You will be our tragedy. Our symbol. A respected ESA director, murdered by the Gifted in cold blood. We'll mourn you. Praise your service. Use your death as a rallying cry to eliminate the abominations once and for all." He stepped closer. "Eldario doesn't need a Council. Or the ESA. We will be its new order. The hunters will be humanity's saviours."

There was silence for several moments. Tiara stared at him for a long, long time. And then she smiled.

"You don't even hear yourself anymore," Tiara said. "You're gone. Whatever man once existed under those bandages… Blue Pandora killed him. You can't even see what that drug has been doing to you."

Then, quietly, she reached under her desk and pressed the button on her phone.

A backup command, routed through shadow servers. A dead man's switch—if she died, every single file she'd ever compiled on Nicolosi, on the hunters, and even on the experiments and cover-ups and corruption, they would be sent.

To Sera.

Tiara straightened. "I knew I was marked for death the day Karl died," she whispered. "But I won't let you be the one to take me." Nicolosi's eyes widened when Tiara raised the gun to her temple. "I am the Director of the ESA. I am the aunt of the girl who will bring you down. That child will go down fighting if she has to. And I won't do any less. I only hope that she'll do to you what you've done to so many others." She smiled one last time. "And I will not give you the satisfaction of my death."

BANG.

The shot echoed across the walls. Blood splattered across the portraits. Her body crumpled silently to the floor.

Nicolosi screamed. "NO!"

His eyes blazed. His hands shook with unbridled fury. But no amount of fury could undo the bullet that Tiara had chosen for herself.

She had died on her terms. And in doing so, she denied him control.

A second later, another explosion rocked the building. This time from the west wing.

One of the elite hunters beside Nicolosi grabbed his earpiece. "Sir. We've lost contact with the team sent to the command room. Our teams in the west wing… They're not responding. Something's gone wrong."

Nicolosi snarled. "Fall back," he growled. "We'll declare victory. Tell PR to begin preparing the statement. Before dawn."

"Yes sir."

Nicolosi turned one last time to stare at Tiara's body, lying in a pool of her own blood, a faint, peaceful smile still on her lips.

He turned away, seething. "She'll be a symbol," he said, his voice low. "But not the one she wanted."

His footsteps echoed as he left the ruined office.

"Eldario will be reborn. And no one can stop me now."