THE HUNTRESS #1 [EB]

9_Crossroads_Of_Encounters.docx

Havoc Headquarters, Glâne, Romont,
Friday 7 November 2121.

"It's such a bummer I can't go," AJ muttered, sidestepping a pair of girls dashing by. "I was super pumped for that trip."

Viktor, Lana's brother, died during the operation, just as Zeurst had predicted. The odds were never in his favour. Now, Lana, burdened by grief, must make a harrowing journey to the Vortex Fortress. She will face judgment there, her fate hanging in the balance. Rico, Thompson, Captain Heller, and Corporal Keller will accompany her, their presence required to testify at the trial.

"Yeah. How bad."

"We're super late, you know. How hard can it be to pick out clothes? It was all the same anyway."

Zeurst fixed her with a withering stare, setting aside her loathing for the upcoming trip. "It wasn't."

"Everything was black."

"And?"

"Didn't Starz tell you exactly how many days you'd be away?"

General Starz had pulled through the operation, a brief and brutal affair despite the copious blood loss. In the days following, he stormed through the corridors, barking orders with a fury that surpassed his usual ire. Zeurst, fortunate to escape his wrath, was confined to theoretical classes in preparation for the entrance exam. Father insisted she refrain from physical exertion, despite the stab wound having healed within two days. It was General Starz who delivered the news with a grim satisfaction: the date for the Presentation Assembly, where she would face the High Command of Vortex, had been set.

"No."

"I don't know if you'll dig the Russians, but their headquarters is awesome. Way cooler than this place, but that's probably 'cause I grew up there. We all used to live there, but it got super small, even though it's huge," AJ said as they walked by the lake at the Cadet Unit. Zeurst nodded, not a word of complaint, while AJ hefted the suitcase.  "I really miss Vamp and Kolya. You probably don't know who they are, but that's understandable—it wouldn't make sense if you did."

When they reached the golden gate, AJ bounded forward, tripping over her own feet in her excitement. The gate, an imposing structure of wrought iron and intricate filigree, swung open with a creak, activated by a silent command from one of the uniformed guards. Zeurst followed behind, her eyes heavy with fatigue, longing only for the solace of her bed.

"Lara!" AJ shouted, waving her hand. "It's been super long!"

Before the gates could open, AJ dropped the suitcase and bolted toward the woman. She stood of medium height, her swollen belly straining against the confines of a faded blue dress and a threadbare woollen cardigan. General Dodz flanked her with his big arm. Zeurst, bending to retrieve the discarded suitcase, followed AJ at a more measured pace.

Father and Luciano waited by a rusted old car, their worn faces lighting up at the sight of her. Without hesitation, they surged forward, their arms encircling her in a tight, almost desperate embrace. The scent of father's aftershave—an earthy blend of sandalwood and cedar—mingled with the faint, resinous aroma of pine that clung to Luciano's clothes. This once-familiar cocktail of scents, which might have comforted her in another time, now felt oppressive, wrapping around her like a shroud, suffocating and inescapable.

"Z, my dear," father murmured, his fingers threading through her hair. "How have you been holding up? How's that stab wound healing?"

Luciano's grip tightened, his knuckles whitening with the strain, as if he could draw the agony from her body by force of will. She stiffened, her arms rigid and unmoving at her sides.