Kazmere sat in a wooden chair, cloaked in shadows, his hood pulled up. The room was filled with silence, except for the soft rhythm of Savere's breathing. The gentle morning light filtered through the window, casting a pale glow across the foot of her bed. Soon, she would awaken, and he would exact his revenge.

Having trailed her back to her opulent new home after she left the king, Kazmere seethed with restrained fury. Patience, he reminded himself. The time for confronting the person who had shattered his world was drawing near.

Savere's current residence was a stark contrast to her humble abode of the past. It was evident that being the king's favored informant came with its perks. The three-story building boasted two imposing granite columns flanking its white oak door. However, the interior lacked the opulence displayed on the outside. Savere had always favored simplicity, never one to seek grandeur—an aspect of her character that Kazmere had long admired. Two elderly maids attended to the maintenance of the house, their focus absorbed in their tasks. Sneaking past them had proved to be a simple feat.

The most challenging part of this entire ordeal was the wait. Patience. He could almost taste his imminent revenge. Although a small part of him recognized that his judgment had been clouded by hatred, he no longer cared. The woman sleeping before him had been his closest friend, the one who had aided him in the early days of the Foundlings when no one else would. How could she have betrayed him? This question echoed relentlessly in his mind, and soon he would have his answers.

The moment had arrived.

For the past hour, Savere had kept her back turned to him, but now she stirred, rolling over to face his direction. Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto his figure.

Reacting swiftly, she retrieved a hidden knife from beneath her pillow and sprang to her feet, fear etched on her face.

Lowering his hood, Kazmere spoke calmly, "Good morning, Savere."

Her voice trembled with fear. "How did you get in here?"

Ignoring her question, he rose from his chair and replied, "You knew this day would come."

Savere hurled her dagger with precision, aiming for his face, before rushing toward the window.

Kazmere's fury allowed him to perceive the world in slow motion. He unleashed his Viberium powers, an orange aura enveloping him. With a flick of his hand, one of his blood daggers deflected the thrown knife, diverting it from its intended path. The other blood dagger pierced Savere's hand, pinning it to the nearby wooden table, halting her escape. A soft wail escaped her lips.

"Is this how you greet an old friend?" Kazmere inquired.

"Kazmere, please, give me a chance to explain," she pleaded, attempting to remove the blood-drenched dagger from her hand. He exerted all his might, pressing it firmly into the wood. Blood flowed from her wounded hand.

"I don't think there's any explanation good enough to justify what you've done," he retorted.

Savere persisted in her frantic attempts to free herself from the impaled dagger, growing increasingly desperate. "I—"

Raising his hand to silence her, he declared, "Silence. I will be the one doing the talking."

Silence ensued.

Struggling to contain his mounting fury, Kazmere found it increasingly difficult to suppress the rage welling up within him. He needed answers before he could proceed with killing her.

"Ten years ago, we met. You know that? Ten years of friendship. Together, we forged a strong bond among the Foundlings. You abandoned it all. And for what? This?" He gestured disdainfully at the lavish surroundings.

"Kazmere, please—"

Another blood dagger lodged itself in the wall to the left of Savere's head, narrowly missing her ear.

"I refuse to listen to your feeble excuses. There's nothing you can say that will alter my decision."

Her breathing grew erratic. "Decision?"

"To end your life."

Savere ceased her futile attempts to dislodge the dagger and implored, "He has my daughter and husband, Kazmere."

He froze. Daughter and husband? She had neither.

His entire body tensed as he took a step toward her. Another blood dagger embedded itself in the wall, this time beside her right ear.

"LIES!" he bellowed, his anger consuming him.

She trembled with cold fear. "You have to believe me. He has held them captive in Fort Givo for months. That's why I did it!"

He took another step closer, mere inches separating them. Sweat formed beads on her forehead.

"Even if what you say is true, do you believe it justifies the deaths of countless Foundlings? You betrayed us all. The weight of hundreds of deaths rests on your shoulders."

She closed her eyes tightly. "I despise myself for what I've done. I'm weak. He threatened to torture them to death if I didn't reveal the hideouts, your whereabouts."

He struggled to contain his anger. Closing the distance with a swift step, he grasped her throat tightly, pressing her against the wall. His blood daggers floated behind him, fueled by his unleashed powers.

Gazing into her terrified eyes, he whispered, "I care not for your reasons. You must pay for your actions, Savere." He tightened his grip with all his might.

Her eyes widened, and she desperately attempted to pull the dagger from her hand to no avail. Life slowly ebbed away from her. A part of Kazmere's being screamed at him to stop. This was not who he was. Yet, an abyss within him reveled in this moment, relishing in someone finally being held accountable for the loss of his family. She deserved this punishment. He continued to tighten his grip around her throat.

Between gasps for breath, Savere managed to utter, "Some Foundlings... are still alive."

His grip weakened. "What?"

She struggled to catch her breath, her gaze never leaving his. "In Fort Givo... they are imprisoned."

Rage coursed through his veins. "Do not deceive me."

"I swear, it's true. I've seen them when I visit Albetta and Geon. Dozens of Foundlings remain."

He narrowed his eyes. Could he trust her words? Was she simply fabricating a story to save her own life?

"I can guide you to them," Savere declared, hope lacing her voice. "With your powers, we can rescue my daughter, my husband, and the remaining Foundlings. Together, like in the old days."

"We can never return to what we once were. Never," he retorted.

"I know," she replied, her tone tinged with sadness. "But if we save them, I will disappear afterward. You will have what you desire, and I will have mine."

Kazmere contemplated his options. Delivering justice for her transgressions was a burning desire within him, but if there was even a glimmer of hope, he had to investigate. Fort Givo held a place in his knowledge—a rumored labyrinthine prison. With Savere's aid, he could liberate the remaining Foundlings and forge a new path. Any flicker of hope was better than none. However, that dark part of him still thirsted for her death.

Releasing her throat, he felt her exhale with profound relief.

Leaning in, his face inches from hers, he warned, "If what you say is true, you will lead me to them. But if you deceive me and lead me into a trap, I will end your life before they have a chance."

"I believe you," she replied, her gaze avoiding his.

"Pack your belongings. We are going to find Sera. I won't let you out of my sight for a single moment."

Savere nodded and began gathering her things.

Kazmere seized her arm with an iron grip. "Regardless of what happens, you will never be a Foundling again."

"I know," she answered, her voice filled with sorrow.

Releasing his hold, he crossed his arms and observed as she packed her belongings into a knapsack. Trusting her was an immense risk. She could very well be leading him into a trap. Nevertheless, he had to ascertain the truth for himself, to discover if any Foundlings remained.

No matter the outcome, once he unraveled the truth, he still intended to exact his revenge upon her.