The design was sleek, almost beautiful. Natalie spun the detonator in her hand, her sharp eyes cutting toward Cash. "You built this thing?" Before he could stammer out a reply, she smiled faintly. "You've got skill. Too bad it's wasted." Too bad it's wasted on what? Cash's face turned scarlet. "You thief! You psycho! Give me back my stuff right now!" Natalie sighed and rubbed her ear. "You're giving me a headache." Then she reached into her storage space and yanked out a bomb, tossing it at him like it weighed nothing. "Here. Take it back. I'm no thief." For a split second, Cash just stared—frozen in disbelief. Then the bomb landed in his arms, and panic snapped through him. He screamed, clutching it tight. "What the hell are you doing?!" Natalie's lips curved. "Returning what's yours." She turned the detonator in her hand, studying it like a puzzle. "Now, which button goes with that one, I wonder?" She shrugged. "Guess I'll test it." The rest of the bombs were locked in her storage space, sealed off from any signal. The only live one sat trembling in Cash's shaking hands. His voice cracked into a roar. "You've lost it! You blow that thing, and you're dead too!" Natalie's voice was smooth as ice. "Don't worry about me." She snapped her fingers, and all three pets vanished in a flash. "No one's getting hurt. Except you."Cash's eyes went wide as the animals disappeared before his eyes. Fear crawled up his spine like fire. His pulse hammered. He knew, with a sinking certainty, that this was the end. He tried to move, but his limbs were useless. He could only cry, his voice breaking apart. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! Don't do this!" Natalie tilted her head, her tone mocking. "Told you, I don't speak foreign languages." Then she reached for Cassian's hand and smiled, calm and cold. "Goodbye." A flash of light—and they were gone. Cash's mouth fell open. "Witchcraft! Freaking witchcraft!" His voice echoed through the hollow warehouse. The only reply was the faint ticking of the bomb resting against his chest. Outside, Natalie and Cassian appeared inside his tent. She didn't even hesitate. Her thumb pressed down on the detonator. The world roared. The explosion ripped through the cave. The ground shook like a living beast beneath them, the air bursting outward in a rush that rattled the tent poles. Inside, the white tiger jolted awake, muscles tensed, its gold eyes locking on the two strangers that had just materialized out of nowhere. Then it froze, shivering. What the hell happened? Why is it so cold? But it was a wild creature, built for survival. This cold could not kill it that easily. After a brief tremor, it steadied itself, breathing slow and deep. Natalie's gaze stayed fixed on it. She slipped the detonator away and pulled out her rifle, aiming it straight between the tiger's eyes. Then she released her pets again. The second Lucky appeared, the mighty tiger's confidence crumbled. Its tail drooped, its ears flattened, and its massive body hunched low. In the animal kingdom, strength ruled. And Lucky was no ordinary dog. The tiger remembered that collision—the one that had sent it flying into darkness. And the dog appeared out of nowhere. Now, seeing her again—wrapped in a mink coat and twice as broad—it took a nervous step back. The dog was bigger than it. The memory of that collision made the tiger step back even more. Natalie raised an eyebrow. She had expected a fight. Maybe a wild struggle. But the tiger was folding without even a snarl. Lucky bared her teeth, growling deep in her chest. She stood tall, her chin high like a queen guarding her throne. When the tiger backed away again, she snorted proudly, her tail wagging like a challenge. Good choice, loser. The white tiger slunk back, crouching in the corner of the tent, quiet as stone. A smart man never argues with a mad woman, it thought bitterly. And that dog? She's not a dog. She's a devil in fur. Natalie watched it for a while. It didn't move. It didn't even glance at its master's direction. The tiger showed no signs of avenging its master. Satisfied, she crouched by the bed and lifted the pillow. Her fingers brushed cold metal. "Nice," she murmured, pulling out an AK rifle. She slid it into her storage space, grabbed the ammo nearby, and turned to Cassian. "We're done here." They stepped out together. The two guards who'd been posted outside were gone, probably chased off by the brutal cold, desperate to find something warm. The camp was silent. Every tent was still, too still. It was impossible to tell who was asleep and who had frozen solid. The air had grown sharper, the cold slicing through like glass. But Natalie and Cassian stood untouched. Their insulated suits and fur held strong. The dog, the rabbit, and the rooster followed at their heels.