The guards stormed the chamber, closing in around Youri from every side. His expression didn't so much as flicker. He simply turned his gaze toward the glass, toward Benjamin, and held it there until the director noticed and gave the order. "Detain Subject 105."
The guards rushed him, tasers already drawn. Youri rolled his neck once more, a faint smile touching his mouth as he raised both hands in front of him, unhurried. "No need for the toys," he said. "It's not as though I've got anywhere else to be." A guard closed the shackles around his wrists first, then his ankles, and together they marched him out of the chamber. Benjamin watched him go, calling one last order after the retreating group. "Send him to the pit." A slow smile spread across his face. "That's where we keep the monsters, after all."
The guards hauled Youri away, leaving Benjamin alone in the lab. He raised his DTI to his ear and put through another call to Alan. "I just got word the Duchess is on her way here," he said, sharp with irritation the moment the line connected. "What exactly is the meaning of this?"
"Handle your end," Alan said flatly. "That's your mission." The line went dead before Benjamin could get another word out.
Frustration settled over him like a second skin. He had come to despise Leonora for burying him in a place like this — a fortress so absolute that even dreaming of escape was pointless, let alone attempting it. Days here bled into one another with nothing to distinguish them, no battles left to fight, no enemy left worth the name. In the long stretches of boredom that came with commanding a prison no one ever left, he had taken to killing prisoners simply for the sake of feeling something again — anything at all, even if it was only the brief, hollow satisfaction of watching the light leave someone's eyes. And now, with the knowledge that he was about to stand face to face with the very woman who had exiled him here, that old resentment burned hotter than it had in years.
He walked out of the lab and into the corridor, his eye twitching faintly beneath an otherwise composed expression. He walked the length of the fortress's halls without any particular hurry, until he came to a stop outside the waiting room. The twitch stilled. A wide smile spread across his face instead as the doors hissed open in front of him.
The researchers from the lab were seated inside, and they rose to their feet as one when Benjamin stepped through the doorway. He looked over their confused, uncertain faces and thought, distantly, what a pathetic sight. Without another beat of hesitation he drew his pistol and put a round through the skull of the researcher nearest him on the left. The shot sent the room into instant chaos — bodies scrambling back over chairs and each other, one of the female researchers screaming at the sight of her colleague's body hitting the floor. Her scream didn't last long. Benjamin ended it, then turned the gun on the rest of them one by one, methodical, almost bored, until only Caleb remained standing, his whole body shaking.
"Why?" was all Caleb could manage.
Benjamin's smile didn't waver. "I'm sorry, Doctor. But there are some things you can't unsee once you've seen them. The only way to be sure of that is to put you to sleep permanently."
"I've always been loyal to the empire," Caleb said, his voice cracking. "I would never—" The sentence died in his throat as the barrel of Benjamin's pistol came to rest against his forehead.
"Don't take it personally, Doctor," Benjamin said, his smile never slipping. "These are simply the rules of this world. Try to accept that death, when it comes for you, is a gift — and that I'm the one giving it to you."
He pulled the trigger. Caleb's body folded and slid to the floor, blood spattering warm across Benjamin's face as he went down. Benjamin tilted his head back and let out a slow breath, something close to pleasure settling into his expression as he savored the moment. It's been so long, he thought, the fresh taste of innocent blood. He looked down at the bodies scattered at his feet and exhaled again, quieter this time. How I've missed this feeling. For the first time in longer than he could remember, his face wore an expression of genuine, uncomplicated satisfaction.
Aboard the ship bound for Khalil, Leonora stood beside Alan on the observation deck, both of them looking out at the same unbroken stretch of stars, Alan glanced sideways at her, studying her profile for longer than he probably should have.
"Lady Leonora," he said, "are you making this whole journey simply to look at him one last time? Or is there something else you're planning?"
Leonora's gaze didn't leave the viewport. "I don't associate with anyone who counts as an enemy of the empire," she said, cold and even. "As for my business with him — it's nothing more than escorting a dangerous criminal back to Terria."
Alan's eyebrows rose slightly, impressed despite himself. "Well said, Lady Leonora." But his tone shifted, gaining weight. "I only hope you can keep your composure in his presence. God forbid you get any ideas of your own — not even the emperor could shield you from the consequences of that."
Leonora turned to him then, and the look she gave him belonged to a woman who had traded away whatever empathy she'd once carried for something colder and far more durable. "Minister," she said, "the woman who was married to that man has been dead a long time. I'd go so far as to say she died the day of the Battle of Hell. So I'll tell you this, and only this: there was a time I would have killed for him. Now I want nothing more than to be the one who kills him."
Before Alan could answer, an officer's voice cut across the bridge. "Entering Khalil orbit. Prepare for arrival in ten minutes."