The Rejected Omega's Redemption のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 461 - チャプター 470

The woods were unnaturally still when Eugene finally reached the new safe house.The moon hung low and pale between tree branches, its light spilling softly across the narrow path Sax had described to him. It was a path so carefully hidden that even trained eyes would miss it unless they already knew where to look. Eugene slowed his steps instinctively, every sense alert despite the exhaustion weighing down his bones.The cabin emerged gradually from the trees. It was built low and wide, its stone base fused seamlessly with the earth, as though it had grown there rather than been constructed. A faint glow spilled from one of the windows, soft and warm against the cold blue of the forest.Guards moved at the perimeter and Eugene spotted them immediately.They were stationed near the treeline, their figures hidden by shadows, weapons held loosely but ready. They were Dorian’s men, good ones who were disciplined enough to blend into the woods rather than stand out as some would usual

Eugene woke to silence.Not the peaceful kind, the kind that settles gently around the bones, but the wrong kind. The kind that made his instincts snap awake before his mind fully caught up.His hand moved first as he reached for the other side of the bed and then he felt it was cold.“Becca?” he murmured, pushing himself upright.The sheets were slightly rumpled, the faint scent of her still lingering, but she wasn’t there. For a brief, terrifying second, his heart lurched. Every horrible possibility rushed in at once when thought about danger, intruders, her wandering off alone until he heard different sounds that suggested otherwise. He registered a soft clatter, metal against wood and a quiet hum coming form downstairs. Eugene exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face. “Of course,” he muttered.She’s cooking.Despite himself, a tired smile tugged at his lips. Only Becca would wake before dawn, after everything they had endured, after a night that had left his body aching an

The room chosen for the meeting sat deep within the resistance hideout, carved from stone and reinforced with thick wooden beams that bore the marks of old battles and newer desperation. Oil lamps burned low along the walls, their flames steady, casting long shadows that stretched and shifted in the light breeze.Eugene stood at the head of the long table, both hands braced against its surface.Dorian leaned against the wall to his right, his arms crossed, his expression sharp and alert. Sax sat opposite Eugene, a rolled map spread before him, his fingers tapping against familiar routes and supply lines. Robin stood near the doorway, watchful, his presence a silent promise that no one would enter uninvited.Max hovered just behind Eugene’s shoulder, his jaw tight, his eyes distant, still carrying the weight of Skye’s warning, Seraphina’s fall, and a pack moving closer to chaos.None of them spoke at first, but they didn’t need to.The air itself felt charged, buzzing with the knowle

At the heart of the mansion, behind thick doors, Desmond had not left his study for long time and the room looked like the aftermath of a storm.Scrolls lay scattered across the massive desk and the floor beside it were maps marked with red ink, troop movements sketched and resketched, weak points circled again and again until the it was worn thin. Desmond stood over the desk, both hands braced against its surface, shoulders rigid, spine straight with the kind of tension that came from refusing to break.He had been staring at the same map for nearly an hour and his thoughts refused to obey him.Every time his focus slipped, his mind betrayed him by pouring out memories he wished he could forget. Desmond’s jaw tightened until it ached.“No,” he muttered, as if the thought itself were an enemy. “Not now.”He slammed his palm against the desk, rattling the ink and sending a quill rolling to the floor.“Focus,” he growled to himself. “Focus.”The resistance would attack soon or he wou

Jack stood in his chambers, sleeves rolled slightly, preparing for what should have been an ordinary evening by Blackwood standards but tonight, the walls felt thinner.Outside his window, too many torches moved. Guards crossed the courtyard in groups instead of pairs, armor gleaming beneath the moonlight.Jack’s jaw tightened.“So it begins,” he murmured.Tomorrow was going to be a bloody day.Jack moved closer to the window, resting his forearm against the stone as he watched the activity of war preparations below.His thoughts immediately went to the forest, to the resistance hideout then to Eugene, with his careful plans and impossible sense of responsibility. His mind also went to Becca and Mira then his fingers curled slowly.“They shouldn’t be anywhere near this tonight,” he muttered.He had no way of knowing where they were, no way to warn them and no way to stop what was already in motion.That was the cruelty of his position of standing in the heart of the beast, unable to