Chapter 85: Corvus

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face for any sign of weakness or hesitation. She found neither.

"Fine." The word came out bitter, edged with defeat. "The Hollows facility. It’s run by the inner circle. They use it for special projects. Prisoners with valuable skills or information."

"Like Siren military officers?"

"Among others." She swallowed hard. "I don’t know the exact location. That information is compartmentalized. But I know someone who does. A man named Corvus. He handles logistics for the inner circle’s operations in the northern provinces."

"Where do I find him?"

"The city of Thornwick. Three days north of here, along the coast." Her voice had gone flat, hollow. "He runs a trading company as cover. Corvus and Sons. Anyone in the merchant district can point you to it."

Nacho released the tentacle’s pressure slightly. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

"You’re making a mistake." Her eyes met his, and for the first time, he saw something other than anger in them. Fear, maybe, or resignation. "The inner circle doesn’t forget. They don’t forgive. Whatever you’re trying to accomplish, they’ll find a way to stop you."

"Maybe." He stood up, dismissing his tentacles with a thought. "But they’ll have to catch me first."

Sera emerged from the shadows near the ship’s stern, her sword sheathed but her posture ready for violence. "The other ship?"

"The crew surrendered when they saw their boarding party go down. I’ve got their captain tied up below decks." Nacho nodded toward the unconscious soldiers scattered across the deck. "What do you want to do with these?"

"Leave them. Take their weapons and supplies, but leave them alive." Sera’s voice carried no trace of mercy, but no cruelty either. Just pragmatism. "Dead bodies attract attention. Survivors spread fear."

"And her?" He gestured at the tall woman, who was slowly climbing to her feet with the help of the ship’s railing.

Sera studied the woman for a long moment. "What’s your name?"

"Meredith. Meredith Cole." The woman’s chin lifted slightly, defiance asserting itself despite her defeat. "Regional commander for the Consortium’s western operations."

"Then you’ll deliver a message for us, Regional Commander Cole." Sera stepped closer, close enough that the woman had to look up to meet her eyes. "Tell Lady Vex that the Grand General of the Siren race sends her regards. Tell her that we’re coming for her facility, her operations, and everyone who helped her enslave my people. Tell her that the tide she thought she controlled is turning."

"She won’t believe me."

"She doesn’t have to believe you. She just has to hear you." Sera turned away, her cloak swirling around her like wings in the darkness. "Now get off my ship."

The Consortium vessels limped away into the night, their crews too demoralized to attempt a second attack. Nacho watched them go from the stern, his tentacles coiled invisibly around his shoulders as the adrenaline slowly faded from his system.

"Thornwick," Sera said, appearing beside him. "Three days north."

"That’s what she said."

"Do you believe her?"

Nacho thought about the fear he’d seen in Meredith Cole’s eyes. The way her thoughts had shifted when he mentioned the Hollows. The reluctant honesty that had crept into her voice once she realized she had no other options.

"Yeah. I think I do."

"Then that’s where we go next." Sera leaned against the railing, her face turned toward the stars. "Corvus and Sons. A logistics handler for the inner circle. If anyone knows where the facility is located, it’ll be him."

"And if he doesn’t want to share that information?"

"Then you’ll convince him." She glanced at him, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. "That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? Convincing people?"

"Among other things."

They stood in silence for a while, watching the stars wheel overhead and the wake of the ship stretch out behind them like a road through darkness.

"Thank you," Sera said eventually.

"For what?"

"For handling that without killing anyone. I know it would have been easier the other way."

Nacho shrugged. "You said dead bodies attract attention. I was just following orders."

"That’s not why you did it."

He didn’t have a good response to that, so he stayed quiet.

"You’re changing," she said. "Whether you want to admit it or not. The person who arrived in Lumen three weeks ago would have killed every single one of those soldiers without a second thought. Tonight, you subdued them instead. That’s progress."

"Progress toward what?"

"Toward being someone who protects instead of just takes." She pushed off from the railing and headed toward her cabin. "Get some rest. We have a long three days ahead of us."

Nacho watched her go, then turned back to the ocean.

Progress, she’d said. Change.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he was becoming something different from the monster who’d crawled out of the deep with nothing but hunger and ambition driving him forward.

Or maybe he was just getting better at pretending.

Either way, the facility in the Hollows was waiting.

And Vael, if she was still alive, was counting on them to find her.

He went to bed that night thinking about what it meant to protect something worth protecting.

The answer still wasn’t entirely clear.

But he was getting closer to understanding it with every passing day.

***

Thornwick emerged from the morning fog like a corpse rising from murky water.

The city sprawled across a natural harbor, its buildings clinging to the hillside in uneven tiers that spoke of centuries of haphazard construction. Stone warehouses dominated the waterfront, their walls stained dark with salt and age. Above them rose merchant houses with peaked roofs and narrow windows, and higher still, the estates of the local nobility, perched on the cliffs like vultures waiting for something to die.

Nacho studied the city from the ship’s bow as they glided toward the docks, his Apex Senses cataloguing every detail that might prove useful. The harbor was busy despite the early hour, fishing boats jostling for space with trading vessels while longshoremen hauled cargo up and down the stone quays. Guards in mismatched armor patrolled in pairs, their movements suggesting boredom rather than vigilance.

"Doesn’t look like much," he said.

Sera joined him at the railing, her cloak pulled tight against the chill wind. She’d changed into something that looked more merchant than military, a practical ensemble of browns and greys that would draw no second glances in a city full of traders.