Alpha Nero
Creed and I don’t say much as we drive into the heart of the territory, both of us focused on the task at hand.
Leia’s waiting for us outside the main house, her posture rigid, her expression one of barely contained anger. She’s a striking woman, tall and commanding, with the same dark hair and piercing eyes that Bastian had. But there’s a hardness to her that her father never had—a steeliness born of necessity, not choice.
“Nero. Creed,” she greets us, her voice cold, professional. “I assume you’ve got something useful to share.”
“More than you’re going to like,” I reply, stepping out of the car and meeting her gaze head-on. “You know about the curse?”
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