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LXXIX. Picking Up the Pieces

  Rel: "THIS IS ALL THIS FUCKER'S FAULT...!"

  His voice shook the ruined laboratory.

  Raw with fury, he threw himself over Dmitri’s motionless body, his hands clenched into fists, ready to beat the life out of him.

  Punjo: "Rel..."

  A heavy hand pressed against his shoulder.

  Rel felt the weight of it -- of Punjo, weak and barely standing. The old fighter leaned on him, body broken, breath labored.

  Punjo: "Sh-stop... We need him..."

  Rel’s fingers curled tighter into Dmitri’s torn shirt. Nails dug into fabric. Tore through it. His entire body shook. With a deep breath, he pulled himself closer, his lips nearly at Dmitri’s ear --

  And then he roared.

  Rel: "WAKE THE FUCK UP, YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!"

  The words ripped through the silence like thunder.

  Dmitri’s eyes shot open, breath hitching as he jolted violently...

  Rel had screamed so loudly, even his own ears rang.

  Dmitri twitched, confused and disoriented. He tried to speak, tried to form words, but all that came out was a frantic, bloody babble.

  Rel seized him by the collar and yanked him upright.

  Rel: "No more aces up your sleeve, coward."

  Rel’s voice was cold, steady -- deadly.

  Rel: "Your fucked-up experiment won’t protect you anymore."

  Dmitri’s gaze darted wildly. Blood dripped from his cracked lips. His teeth were shattered. The only thing left in him was fear.

  Rel reached into his pocket.

  Pulled out a tiny glass bottle.

  Swirled the viscous purple liquid inside.

  Rel: "You recognize this? We're lookin' for an antidote."

  Dmitri squinted, his eyes scanning the vial. He hesitated.

  Dmitri: "Et me shmell it... I-I 'eed to shmell it..."

  Rel’s stomach churned in disgust, but he yanked the cork free and shoved the bottle under Dmitri’s nose.

  The man inhaled deeply. His eyes rolled back as he processed the scent.

  Then, suddenly, his entire body tensed.

  Dmitri: "Y-yesh... I have what you need...!"

  Rel narrowed his eyes.

  Rel: "Where."

  Dmitri lifted a trembling finger, pointing to a tall, undisturbed cabinet in the corner of the ruined lab.

  Rel: "Keep an eye on him, Punjo. If he moves -- break something else."

  Dmitri: "W-wait...!"

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  Rel’s eyes snapped back to Dmitri, murderous.

  Dmitri: "'It's 'ocked... 'ake 'he key..."

  The scientist’s hand weakly fumbled at his shirt. He pulled free a tiny iron key.

  Rel didn't trust him, but he took it anyway.

  Unlocked the cabinet.

  Inside -- rows of glass vials. Dozens of colors, dozens of shapes. Too many.

  Rel: "Which one?!"

  Dmitri’s voice was barely above a whisper, but his words were clear.

  Dmitri: "Dark green... Short phlask... Smells like rust..."

  Rel’s hands flew through the shelves. He grabbed the antidote, turned back to Dmitri and Punjo, breathing hard.

  One more question.

  He held up the tiny bottle.

  His eyes locked onto Dmitri.

  Rel: "Answer me this --"

  Dmitri flinched.

  Rel: "If someone was poisoned through an open wound -- how long would they have to live?"

  Dmitri hesitated.

  His eyes darted to the vial.

  Then to Rel’s face.

  Then to Punjo, bleeding, watching silently.

  ... Rel saw it.

  The stalling.

  The silent calculations.

  The fear...

  Dmitri: "Depends..."

  Dmitri licked his bloody lips.

  Dmitri: "How much poishon...?"

  Rel: "About as much as you could coat a razor blade with."

  Dmitri’s breath hitched. He thought for a moment, then a decisive answer.

  Dmitri: "Weeksh. Two. Maybe 'ree... Best inges'ed than dropp'd in blood"

  Though his answer did not come as a surprise, hearing it from the poison's creator himself made Rel’s stomach drop.

  Faya really had just days left.

  But then something about the way Dmitri spoke -- something in the way his voice trembled --

  Rel: "Best ingested, you said..."

  Dmitri froze.

  Rel’s eyes went cold.

  Rel: "Then tell me --"

  He held the poison bottle up between them.

  Rel: "If someone drank even this tiny amount --"

  Rel: "How long would they have to live?"

  Dmitri's answer came almost instantly.

  Dmitri: "One day at mosht. A few hoursh, mosht likely..."

  Rel: "... Good. That'll do."

  That was all he needed to hear.

  In a flash, Rel mounted Dmitri again, shoving the small flask of poison past his broken teeth. The man gagged, choking as the bitter liquid hit the back of his throat.

  Punjo: "REL...!"

  Rel: "HE COULD BE LYING, PUNJO!"

  Punjo froze. His breath hitched as his eyes widened in realization.

  Rel: "Cabdan tried pulling the same stunt... Guys like him are cut from the same cloth."

  Dmitri thrashed beneath him, clawing at his throat, trying to spit out what little of the poison remained. Rel ignored him.

  Rel: "If he's telling the truth, then this --"

  He held the vial of antidote high above Dmitri’s desperate, bulging eyes.

  Rel: "-- should save him."

  Dmitri: "P-leash... PLEASHE...!"

  Rel: "Shut the fuck up and listen."

  Dmitri stilled, eyes wild, face flushed red as the poison worked its way through him.

  Rel: "We need a way out of here. Preferably without anyone ever knowing we stepped foot inside. Guide us out, and we’ll let you drink some of the antidote. Otherwise..."

  Rel’s gaze drifted toward the bloodied table where the monster had once been strapped.

  Rel: "We’ll put that table to good use again. Leave you here to rot, tightly bound to it. Understand?"

  Dmitri nodded frantically, his entire body trembling.

  Rel: "Can you walk?"

  Dmitri staggered to his feet, his legs weak, every breath a shuddering wheeze.

  With Rel helping Punjo, Dmitri led them to the back of the laboratory. His shaking fingers pressed against three specific stones in the wall, pushing them inward. A deep, mechanical click echoed through the ruined lab, and a section of the wall shifted, revealing a narrow corridor lined with flickering torches.

  Rel: "You first, Punjo. I'll cover the rear."

  The hidden door sealed shut behind them as they disappeared into the darkness.

  Tyssa: "No... No no no no NO!!"

  Meanwhile, Tyssa was found kneeling in the garden outside. While mourning the loss of her friend, she glanced at the journal. It had been entirely soaked in wine, with many of its pages becoming very difficult to read.

  Tyssa: "Not after all this... Please..."

  Frantically, she tore off her shirt, pressing the driest parts against the ruined pages, trying to blot out the moisture. But the fabric was already damp from sweat and wine -- it wasn’t enough.

  Tyssa: "No... C’mon..."

  Her breath hitched as she scanned the moonlit garden, searching for anything that could salvage the journal. Her eyes landed on a pile of dry leaves scattered across the grass.

  It was a desperate idea. But she had nothing else.

  Tyssa lunged forward, scooping up handfuls of the brittle foliage. Carefully, she peeled the wet pages apart, slipping the leaves between them, praying they would absorb enough moisture to keep the ink from running.

  Tyssa: "Please, please work..."

  A noise from inside the mansion.

  She froze.

  Voices. Footsteps.

  Tyssa’s heart pounded.

  Clutching the journal to her chest, she sprinted toward the garden wall. Crates were stacked against the nearby stables -- her way out. She scrambled onto them, vaulting over the wall and vanishing into the night.

  Now, all she could do was wait.

  Back at their rendezvous point, hidden away from prying eyes, she held the journal close and hoping that soon Rel and Punjo would join her...

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