CHAPTER 60: A RECORDING FROM WHEN HE WAS FIRST DISCOVERED.

That evening in Weannas, the air was so humid that, as the sun was about to set, droplets of water hung in the atmosphere, forming a hot mist that clung to the skin.

As soon as the unit guards opened the door for him, Maxim stepped inside and turned toward the direction of his own house. Even before opening the door, before even stepping inside, he had already started unzipping the uniform clinging to his body, and he shut the door behind him.

Just as he was about to open the suffocated windows of the house, he saw Taras sitting in the armchair of the living room. Maxim, suddenly losing control of his power, released a ray wave, and the beam stopped just millimeters before hitting Taras. He managed not to scream, only growled, "Hey! What the hell are you doing here!"

As Maxim’s light dispersed into a cloud of dust within Taras’s shadow and scattered to the ground, Taras merely looked at Maxim’s rage-twisted face. Even though Maxim had asked a question, he kept grumbling as if he didn’t expect an answer.

"You scared the life out of me... Damn it, I was going to give you my report after my shower anyway. Why are you sitting in my living room like some hired killer?"

While Maxim went to open the windows, Taras rose from the armchair and walked toward one of them, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. "How are the omega and his sister?"

As Maxim watched him light a cigarette in the living room despite knowing it irritated him, he began walking toward the other room. "They’re fine. They’re scared Treasure will spill everything. At one point, they made plans to flee abroad, but then gave up. That omega... trusts Treasure, but his sister doesn’t trust him much."

As Taras exhaled the smoke from his lungs, it drifted out through the window. "Did they ever mention the drug that incapacitates omegas?"

"They said they’ll inject the omega with it next week, but they don’t want that. I think they’ll find some way to run before then." Maxim’s voice carried on amid the rustling of clothes as he changed. "They don’t have money. And they put a chip in the omega, can you believe that?"

Taras let out a sigh. Any filth could be expected from these people. Maxim returned to the room, now changed, and got himself a glass of water. His mind was stuck on that omega with swollen eyes from crying, sobbing that he didn’t want to be a sex slave. Maxim took a sip of water. "But, we might have hit the jackpot, Tar," he said, forcing away that pitiful image and recalling the most important piece of information he had learned.

"What?" Taras asked. Maxim smiled. "This omega trade business doesn’t only involve the Deputy Minister of Internal Affairs. Another name came up."

"Whose?" Taras asked, at the same time, a bead of sweat slid slowly down his nape, tracing his spine. His body was heating up.

Just as evening darkness settled in, Maxim dropped the bomb with a satisfied look. "The Minister of Finance."

"Ha," Taras smiled. "Bingo."

Once the Minister of Finance was pulled into this mess, the rest would unravel like a thread. For the first time, Taras felt victory so close, his heart pumping blood through his body with wild force, a halo of shadow forming around him. "The moment we threaten that bastard with this, we can expose every corruption file of the rest of them," Taras said, his smile sharpening.

Maxim nodded. "Yes, but we’ll need solid evidence for him too, you know that."

Taras shook his head. Every blow they struck had to be lethal. The Minister of Finance had to be cornered in such a way that he could never escape. "You’ll talk to that omega and ask for more evidence, and in return, we’ll offer to get him and his sister out of this mess, Maxim."

As Maxim’s eyes caught on the shadow coiling around Taras’s body, he set his glass down on the counter. "Alright," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and tapping it lightly against his palm as he stepped closer to Taras. "I’m asking again, are you sure we can trust that woman from Awakening?"

By now, Taras’s, Maxim’s, and a few intelligence members’ phones were connected to the illegal network signal provided by Maleah; this meant they could stay in contact by phone even when they entered the center and blended into the cities.

Taras shook his head. "What do you think? In return, she asked me to kill her father and keep her company out of this swamp in the country’s new order; she’ll work with us," he said, wiping away the sweat collecting on his forehead with his palm, and glanced at Maxim’s phone. "So, there’s nothing to worry about."

Maxim, still wavering from the dangerous waters they were swimming in, looked at Taras. "If you say so... fine," his eyes now catching on the halo more visible on Taras’s face. "The Rut?"

Taras nodded and fixed his gaze out the window. "It’ll start in a day or two."

"Good luck then," Maxim said with a grin. "Will you shut yourself in that rural house again?"

Taras only smiled without answering. That meant yes. As Maxim slipped his phone back into his pocket, he studied Taras’s side profile and asked, "Did Awakening mention Treasure?"

"...They asked what I would do if someone tried to kill him again," Taras muttered, a look of displeasure forming on his face once more.

"They... you remember what they told Treasure that night, don’t you? That someone could reach him day or night."

Taras shook his head. Awakening must have thought he would back down rather than confront them, believing they could reach Treasure through him. "In their dreams," Taras said.

As Maxim studied his conflicted expression, he continued. "You told them you’d protect Treasure no matter what. That could lead to rumors, Tar."

"What kind of rumors?" Taras snapped his head sharply toward Maxim, brows furrowed.

Maxim, meeting his piercing gaze, sighed, wondering how Taras could be so unaware of himself. He was blind to how his face changed every time Treasure was mentioned.

And... it was something he suppressed so deeply, it left him oblivious to what others might say. "Awakening might think you want to protect Treasure for personal rea-"

"What kind of personal reasons?" Taras laughed mockingly. "What other reason could I have but revenge?"

"Are you taking revenge on him now?" Maxim asked, and when the question left a more bewildered look on Taras’s face, he rephrased it. "When you expose that paper, will you also reveal that Treasure’s DNA is on it?"

"..." Taras fell silent, a storm raging inside him. Then, from his depths, the reason—his reason—spilled from his lips, as much to remind himself as to deny Maxim’s suspicion. "He... gave my father’s name to those bastards, and caused my father’s death."

"And so?" Maxim looked at him with a pained expression. "Will you expose him too? His DNA, that... photo of Treasure?"

"..."

"You said killing him was too easy... and now that you hold the strongest evidence in your hands, you’re hesitating to use it against him."

"I’m not hesitating," Taras said through his teeth.

"Then answer me."

Taras fixed his terrifying gaze on Maxim again, only to fall silent once more. After waiting a while for an answer, Maxim squeezed his friend’s arm in a brotherly way, eyes locking on his.

"Whatever you do to him in the end... I don’t want you to regret it, Tar," Maxim murmured. "But if you don’t decide, you’ll regret it either way-"

"Ah, shut up, Maxim..." Taras rubbed his face, stepping away from the window toward the center of the room. On his face was a smile even he didn’t know the reason for, a hollow grin.

Denial, Maxim thought. You’re in denial.

"That Deputy Minister and others will eventually realize we’re aware of their shit when we rescue that omega and his sister next week. We have to expose this before they catch on. Do you understand? I said next week."

"Fuck off, you think I don’t know?" Taras snapped. "I was the one who just told you we’d save them in the first place. The experiment, the corruption, and this omega trafficking scandal... We’ll blow it all up next week."

Maxim pulled a cigarette from Taras’s pack, placed it between his lips, and lit it. As the first drag caught in his throat, a coughing fit took hold, and for a while, neither spoke.

At that moment, Taras pulled out that thing -the voice recorder- from his pocket, sat down on the couch, and placed it on the table. Staring at it as though it were a timed bomb, Maxim finally finished coughing and locked his eyes on it. "What’s that?"

"I don’t know," Taras said in an annoyed tone. "Another recording from that woman, Maleah. Could be evidence, could be nothing."

Maxim eyed him strangely. "It’s been three days, why haven’t you listened to it yet?" When Taras didn’t answer, Maxim stubbed out the cigarette, unable to finish it, and slumped into the armchair across from him, adding mockingly, "Were you waiting for me to listen to it together?"

When Taras still didn’t respond, he clasped his hands in front of him and muttered, "I’ve got a bad feeling about it."

Maxim found it absurd, hearing Taras speak of feelings for the first time, but reached for the recorder and began examining it. "What if it’s a bomb?"

Taras rolled his eyes. "Cut it out."

"Kidding..." Maxim grinned as his finger hovered over the play button, Taras’s eyes following his every move, holding his breath as if he both wanted and didn’t want to hear it. "What’s it about?" Maxim asked more seriously this time.

"Him," Taras said. They both knew who he meant. "A recording from when he was first discovered."

Maxim’s curiosity grew, but he nodded and stopped moving his fingers. Taras leaned back into the couch, finally tearing his gaze from the device to look at Maxim. The aura radiating from his body was dark and terrifying. It bent the very air in the room, making it feel suffocating, his alpha energy clawing at their lungs.

"Cut it out," Maxim said, looking away and shaking his head to lighten the oppressive feeling. "So, are we listening to it or not?"

Taras fixed his gaze back on the recorder. Le An’s face flashed in his mind again, as if he knew he’d never be able to remember him the same way after this. Or rather, he wanted to hold onto that face one last time, as if savoring something fleeting he still felt, before losing it entirely.

His palms itched, the familiar throbbing in his head grew, every painful truth tied to him, every look, every word, every tear of Treasure’s came alive again. The desire to kill him flared up anew, like a drowning impulse making one last desperate reach for Taras. He swallowed hard.

This thing would either consume him whole or shatter and free him completely. This was the decision Maxim spoke of. This hatred would either devour Taras or release him.

He swallowed again. His fingers brushed against his lips. Recalling the memory he had saved absentmindedly for last, that kiss, he closed and opened his eyes, then gave Maxim a nod.

Then, without a word, Maxim pressed play. The room fell silent, every heartbeat echoing louder than the next, as the first voice crackled through the recorder.

When the recording ended, at the very second it ended, Taras burst into shadow form and shot toward the capital, toward him, dissolving into the sky.

Maxim, hand clamped over his mouth in shock, rushed to the window and shouted after him. "Tar, wait! What’re you going to do? Tar!"

At a deadly speed, feeling as if every organ and every part of him was overtaken by shadow, Taras waged a battle of power within his form of darkness as he arrived at Le An’s house, in that room.

Inside his shadow form, his lungs couldn’t find enough oxygen. Pushing the form further, Taras stormed through the room, but couldn’t find him.

Where was he? He had to see him now. Right now.

As the shadow seared into every corner of his being, Taras returned to his body in the empty room and unleashed the shadow into it. Panting, he turned toward the window, thinking Le An might be in the garden, when the shadow, as though claiming its own will, slid across the floor and climbed onto Le An’s bed.

The pitch-black cloud, trembling as if it recognized the bed’s owner, spread across its surface until Le An’s bed was drowned in darkness. Taras stared long at the shadow resting on the bed.

With a flick of his hand, he tried to peel the shadow off, but the cloud only sank back into the sheets, trapping Le An’s whole scent within. "Ha... Tsk. Where are y-"

And only then, as if coming to his senses, Taras’s ears caught the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Le An was here.