Back to the manor

They survived the outpost mission.

That was about the only positive thing Greta could say about it.

The three vehicles rolled through the gates of the manor shortly before dawn, their headlights sweeping across the reinforced walls before the gates groaned shut behind them.

Harold's voice came through the speakers.

“Welcome home. I have detected multiple injuries, elevated stress levels, and an alarming amount of blood.”

Greta climbed out of the lead vehicle.

“Good morning to you too, Harold.”

“I was attempting to be comforting.”

“You failed.”

“I'll add it to my list.”

Elias climbed out behind her, favoring one leg.

“Can you add ‘better bedside manner’ to the list?”

“I already have,” Harold replied.

Valerie climbed out of the other vehicle, wiping blood from her cheek.

“I'm fine.”

Greta glanced at her.

“You're bleeding.”

“I've had worse.”

“I know.”

Greta looked toward the manor.

“How is Malcolm?”

Harold answered immediately.

“Stable. His condition has not deteriorated significantly since you left.”

Greta's shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Good.”

She hadn't realized how tightly she'd been holding herself together until that moment.

Malcolm had remained at the manor throughout the entire mission. He had been in no condition to accompany them, and Greta had reluctantly left him behind under Harold's constant supervision.

Now she needed to see him herself.

---

### The Medical Room

Greta pushed open the medical room door.

Malcolm was exactly where she'd left him.

Lying on the reinforced medical bed.

Still pale.

Still injured.

But conscious.

His enormous frame seemed almost too large for the equipment surrounding him.

He turned his head when Greta entered.

“You're back.”

Greta stopped beside the bed.

“Of course I'm back.”

Malcolm looked past her toward the hallway.

“Elias?”

“Alive.”

“Valerie?”

“Annoying.”

From the hallway came Valerie's voice.

“I heard that!”

Malcolm actually smiled.

Greta didn't.

She looked over his injuries carefully.

The wounds were still there.

The strange darkness around the edges hadn't spread much, but it hadn't receded either.

“How bad?”

Malcolm shrugged.

“Could be worse.”

Greta gave him a hard look.

“That isn't an answer.”

“No.”

“Then give me one.”

Malcolm sighed.

“Pain is manageable. Strength is returning slowly. The wounds aren't healing properly.”

Greta's jaw tightened.

Harold spoke from the ceiling.

“His condition remains stable, but conventional healing methods have been largely ineffective.”

Greta looked up.

“Any improvement?”

“Minimal.”

“Any worsening?”

“Minimal.”

Greta exhaled.

“Fine.”

Malcolm looked at her.

“You're worried.”

Greta stared at him.

“Yes.”

The answer came so quickly that Malcolm didn't respond.

Greta wasn't embarrassed by it.

Not anymore.

She had watched Malcolm nearly die because they had underestimated Leviathan.

She wasn't going to make that mistake again.

---

### The Report

The rest of the crew gathered in the medical room.

Elias leaned against the wall.

Valerie sat on the edge of a cabinet.

Greta stood beside Malcolm.

Harold projected a three-dimensional map of the outpost above the center of the room.

“So,” Elias began, “the good news is we hit the outpost hard enough that they're going to remember us.”

“And the bad news?” Malcolm asked.

Valerie answered.

“We're pretty sure they know exactly who did it.”

Malcolm's expression darkened.

“Leviathan?”

“Eventually,” Greta said.

She looked at the map.

“We destroyed their communications equipment, their supplies, and most of their defensive positions.”

Malcolm nodded.

“That should slow them down.”

“For a little while.”

Greta touched the map.

“But we also discovered something.”

Everyone looked toward her.

“Their organization is larger than we thought.”

Silence.

Malcolm's expression hardened.

“How much larger?”

“We don't know yet.”

That answer wasn't reassuring.

Greta continued.

“But we know the creatures at the outpost weren't the only forces in the area.”

Elias folded his arms.

“Which means Leviathan has reserves.”

“And scouts,” Valerie added.

Malcolm looked toward Greta.

“Did you find any indication they know about Joey and Cassandra's mission?”

Greta paused.

“Nothing definitive.”

That was technically true.

But nobody seemed satisfied by it.

---

### Taylor

While the others discussed the mission, Taylor remained in the manor's central living area.

She had been unusually quiet.

Greta found her sitting near one of the enormous windows overlooking the grounds.

“You should be resting,” Greta said.

Taylor turned.

“I can't.”

Greta sat heavily in the chair across from her.

“Because you're worried about Joey.”

Taylor nodded.

“And Cassandra.”

Another nod.

Greta studied her for several seconds.

“You know they may be gone longer than expected.”

“I know.”

“And you're safe here.”

Taylor looked toward the reinforced windows.

“Are we?”

Greta's expression became serious.

“As safe as I can make you.”

That seemed to reassure Taylor somewhat.

Greta leaned back.

“Leviathan knows we're interfering with him now.”

Taylor looked worried.

“Is that bad?”

“It means we don't underestimate him.”

Greta looked toward the windows.

The manor's defenses were formidable.

Magical wards.

Automated security.

Supernatural guards.

And Harold monitoring everything.

But Leviathan had already demonstrated that he could hurt Malcolm.

That changed the equation.

“We're going to keep you here until Joey and Cassandra return.”

Taylor nodded.

“And if Leviathan comes?”

Greta smiled.

It wasn't a particularly comforting smile.

“Then he gets to discover why I bought this place.”

---

### Reinforcing the Manor

By afternoon, the entire crew was back on their feet—or at least attempting to be.

Greta had ordered every entrance checked.

Harold had increased the security perimeter.

The magical barriers around the property were strengthened.

Valerie and Elias inspected the outer grounds.

Malcolm remained in the medical room under observation.

And Taylor was never left alone.

Joey's bedroom had effectively become Taylor's temporary headquarters.

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the phone in her hands.

She had checked it at least twenty times.

“He'll be okay,” Greta said from the doorway.

Taylor looked up.

“You don't know that.”

“No.”

Greta crossed her arms.

“But Joey is stubborn.”

Taylor smiled faintly.

“Yes.”

“Cassandra is worse.”

That got a quiet laugh.

Greta stepped into the room.

“They'll come back.”

Taylor looked toward the window.

“I hope so.”

Greta's expression softened.

“They'd better.”

---

That evening, the manor settled into an uneasy silence.

Nobody relaxed completely.

The mission had changed everything.

They had gone from preparing for war to realizing that war had already begun.

Somewhere beyond the fortified walls, Leviathan knew his enemies were moving against him.

Somewhere far beyond those walls, Joey and Cassandra were moving deeper into his territory.

And here, Greta's crew waited.

Watching.

Healing.

Preparing.

Waiting for their friends to come home.

In the medical room, Malcolm suddenly opened his eyes.

His voice was barely audible.

“Greta.”

She immediately moved to his side.

“What?”

Malcolm stared toward the ceiling.

“He knows.”

Greta's face tightened.

“Who?”

Malcolm swallowed.

“Leviathan.”

A pause.

“He is coming our way.”

Greta looked toward the security monitors.

For the first time since the crew had returned, the manor suddenly felt very small.

“Harold.”

“Yes?”

“Double the perimeter.”

“Already done.”

“Then double it again.”

“Understood.”

Greta looked toward the darkened windows.

“Because if Leviathan is coming for us”

Her hand tightened into a fist.

“…there might not be anything left for Joey and Cassandra to come back to. ”