They arrive at HQ, and they are rushed off to the medical bay. The medical bay doors slammed shut behind Ian as Steel was rushed past him on a stretcher, blood soaking through the makeshift bandages where his arm used to be. Stark staggered beside him, his jaw swollen, bruised ribs wrapped in temporary bindings.
Their screams still echoed in Ian's head, replaying every second of their defeat. Ian marched back to his office, every step heavier than the last.
Optimus was already waiting, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, trying to keep calm. Blade sat stiffly in the corner, silent, knowing Ian was about to boil over. Ian slammed his palms onto his desk.
Ian, furious, pacing, "What did I say? I knew they couldn't handle it. My gut screamed it at me. But no—you, Blade, all of you insisted they'd be fine. Why?"
Optimus pushed off the wall, keeping his voice measured. Optimus, "Look, Ian, we thought—"
Ian spun on him, eyes blazing. Ian, cutting in, voice cracking, "You thought! Really? You thought?! And now I'm down two of my most valuable soldiers—one without an arm, the other barely breathing—because of an I thought."
The room went dead silent, the weight of his words pressing against the walls.
Optimus finally snapped back, slamming a fist against the table.
Optimus, sharply, "No one could've expected a demon like that. Not me, not you, not anyone! Don't put this all on us."
Ian glared, his voice dropping to a cold growl. Ian, "I don't care about excuses. Steel and Stark are broken, and the demon is still out there. That's the reality."
Before the tension could boil over further, the door burst open. Scarlet stormed in, her face pale with urgency.
Scarlet, breathless, "Ian—there's more. Intel reports a massive demon army massing. They're chanting for vengeance. Their warcry is 'Revenge for Varnyx.'"
The room froze. Even Optimus's steady composure faltered.
Ian, gritting his teeth, "So all of this… all of this blood… because of him. He must've been high-ranking."
Optimus, grimly, "High-ranking enough to rally an army this size. We're cornered."
Ian, snapping, "You think?!" Ian stormed past them, his cloak trailing like a shadow, and descended to the medical bay. Steel, pale and bandaged, managed to glance up at him. Stark lay beside him, coughing through cracked ribs. Ian knelt, his anger shifting into something rawer.
Ian, softly, to Steel, "This wasn't your fault. Do you hear me? You fought something no soldier alive could stand against. That means something."
Stark, hoarse, "Means we lost…"
Ian, firm, placing a hand on Stark's shoulder, "Means you lived. And I'll need you again."