Theresa was handed a prisoner of her own. It was a woman. The woman's eyes were wide, her face pale, every muscle tight with dread as she stared at Theresa. Ahead of her, the faster guards were already at work. They tore socks off the victims, crammed the fabric into their mouths, and ripped away toenails with sharp, merciless motions. The sound of agony filled the air. Bodies curled up. Cries echoed through the room like waves crashing against stone. Theresa's eyes narrowed. Their skill told her this was not the first time. They had done it so often it looked like routine. The woman in front of her shook uncontrollably. Her foot twitched like it wanted to run away on its own. Theresa knelt, peeled the sock from her foot, and held it. She reached out and gripped the trembling ankle. The woman screamed. Her voice cracked with terror. A moment later, a line of blood smeared the floor at her toes. Theresa looked down at it, calm and steady, then slid the sock back over the wound. The cloth turned dark, soaked with red, but none of the others noticed. She rose quietly, her face unreadable, and blended back into the guards. The woman gave one last cry before staring at her own foot. She expected unbearable pain, but there was only numbness. She thought she had gone into shock. Limping, she followed the others, eager to escape. Later, when she was alone in her room, she pulled off the sock. Her breath caught in disbelief. Her foot was untouched. She was unharmed. But she could not remember the guard who had spared her. Kobe could not either. When his punishments ended, he had meant to find the slow guard who had faltered. He looked across the ranks, his glare searching, but he saw no guilty face. The guard he wanted had disappeared into the crowd. "All of you, come with me!" Kobe snapped. Theresa marched with the squad into his office. Unlike the sleazy, greedy overseer of Workshop 1, Hawk's office was cold and exact. Order lived in every corner. Even the door was locked with a digital code. Theresa stood just behind the first guard as the keypad clicked under his fingers. Six numbers tapped out. When only two remained, Kobe turned his head. His eyes lingered on her face for three long seconds. Then he turned back, pressed the last two digits, and the lock clicked open. The door swung wide to reveal a spotless office. The desk was bare. The shelves lined perfectly. Every file was squared in place, sharp and clean. Hawk stepped inside with the squad and spoke with a voice that cut through the room. "You will act with caution. Not one of you will cause trouble." "Yes, sir!" "Security will be stronger. No one enters or exits without verification." "Yes, sir!""You will not mingle with outsiders." "Yes, sir!" Then his computer chimed. He scanned the screen, his brow sinking. "All of you, with me." The squad fell into formation and followed. Hawk led them out the door. Theresa kept to the rear. As the group filed through the hall, she slipped to the side and vanished back into the office. One guard turned his head and glanced back, but his eyes passed right over her absence. Their footsteps faded. The silence returned. Theresa's gaze landed on the mountain of files. She moved straight to the dates. Kobe's precision lived in every page. Each report was stamped and ordered by time and progress code. She searched fast, her hands flipping through the papers until she found the day her aunt was taken. But they were only production reports. Each one bore Hawk's clipped handwriting, every note cold and sharp. He kept no personal records. Her eyes slid to the computer. The glow of standby light flickered on the screen. She slipped on gloves, studied the angle of the mouse, and nudged it.The monitor came alive. Emails covered the screen. Each one was sent to the same place—Headquarters. Her chest tightened. Headquarters could only mean the Divine Academy. She scrolled down to the days before her aunt vanished. Then she found it. One message, flagged and hidden among the rest. Her pulse surged as she opened it. "Receive S-Rank hostage. Ensure her safety. Deny all contact. Holding period until November 12. Transfer will follow." Her heart pounded. Until November 12. Today was November 9. Her aunt was still on the island. Three full days remained. Relief flooded through her veins. For the first time in days, a smile curved her lips. Her path was right. She had struck gold. But the question still burned. Where exactly was her aunt being held? Her mind spun with possibilities. The first plan formed clear. Wait for Kobe to return. Force him to tell her.