Chapter Text
As Furan walked back into her old cell, Nero lifted his battered face with a defiant expression, despite the numerous, savage wounds that now covered his body, but even he couldn't fully hide his weakness. His breathing was laboured through the pain. Blood dripped from his injuries, the shirt dumped at his feet now covered in splotches of dark red. Raven stood before him, bloodied scalpel in hand. The tools laid out on the roll of black fabric all seemed to have been used somehow, all similarly slippery with blood.
"Hello, Max," Furan said with a smile. "I see that Raven's been having fun with you. She really is very good at this sort of thing."
"She should be," Nero rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming in pain. "You trained her."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Nero." Furan’s smile was cruel. "Raven has only inflicted a tiny fraction of the pain you have caused me and my family."
"You murdered Elena and our child," Nero snapped. "You took everything from me. You may not have taken the shot, but you ordered it."
"That bullet was meant for you!" Furan hissed back. "If you’d just stayed away from her..."
"I loved her. She was the only woman I’ve ever loved, and you took her and my future from me," Nero growled, though the violence behind it was weak. "You set us on this path. You could have just left us in peace."
"Peace! After everything G.L.O.V.E. did to my family?" Furan sneered. "Don’t be so naïve. I warned you. I told you what the consequences would be, and you ignored the risks. That was what cost Elena her life. Your arrogance!"
There was a moment of pregnant silence, before Nero stifled a sound of pain and looked up again, fixing Furan with a glare.
"Just get this over with, Anastasia. You can’t hurt me more than you already have."
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"Raven, kill him."
Then the lights went out.
Nero struggled weakly against his bonds, but it was no good, he couldn’t have broken free with his body as ravaged as it was. A moment later the cell was bathed in stark red emergency lighting.
"Emergency systems online," a recorded voice sounded in the hallway outside. "Switching to secondary reactors in two minutes."
Raven took a step towards Nero, drawing one of her swords. He couldn't quite suppress his flinch at the motion. Poetic, he supposed, that it would be his daughter who killed him after all.
"Wait," Furan said. "Not too quick. I want to enjoy this."
Raven gave a nod and walked over to the table with the various torture tools that she had recently used on Nero, selecting a scalpel and turning back towards him.
"Take his eyelids first," Furan demanded.
Raven got closer to Nero and raised the scalpel towards his eye. But then she stopped, looking confused for a moment, and Nero saw the monstrous zombie who had tortured him disappear, replaced by the eyes he had known for so long. He would have sobbed in relief if he thought he had the energy.
"Anna’s dead," he breathed out, words far more relieved than he had meant them to sound.
"What are you talking about?" Furan demanded. "How do you know?"
"Natalya," Nero said, slowly. "Explain it to her."
Natalya whirled around, drawing the glowing, purple sword from her back and driving it through Furan’s heart in one fluid move. Furan gasped, her eyes wide with sudden shock.
"Die like your brother, you piece of shit," Natalya spat at her, her face just inches from Furan’s, pulling the blade from her chest. Anastasia’s hideously scarred face slackened, and she fell to the floor, dead.
Natalya walked over and took the keys to Nero’s manacles from the table, releasing him with a sharp click. He tried to stand but couldn't, slumping limply against the wall, vision already beginning to blur. Pain lanced through his broken body, breathing strained. Natalya was in front of him in an instant.
“Max!” She cupped his face in her hands before pulling the scant medical supplies he always insisted she keep with her from her suit and trying to patch him up.
"What do you remember?" he asked quietly, voice cracked.
Natalya didn't answer for a moment, too busy trying to press against his wounds as best she could. She didn't look at him when she answered.
“All.. of it. I- everything, Max. Oh, God, I'm so sorry- I'm so, so sorry, Max, I didn't-”
Her voice petered off into muffled apologies as she held back tears. He made a choked sound of agony as he shifted, and, to his surprise, she grabbed his shoulders gently and hugged him tightly. He felt her hands shaking on his back and the tears that wet his shoulder as she pulled back rapidly, still trying to apologise.
He could feel his strength waning, could feel the blood and the energy ebbing from his body, and as black spots danced in his vision and his breathing became laboured, he slowly, carefully raised a hand and pressed his finger against Natalya's mouth, silencing her.
“That wasn't you. It was her. It was always.. her. I.. I could not be prouder of what you have become, Natalya. My… darling daughter."
He smiled at her, a shattered thing, and then his body slumped to the floor as his eyes flickered shut.
“NO!” She cried out, falling to her knees to grab his shoulders again and shake them, though she knew it wouldn't work. “No, no, no, no, no. Please, old man, wake up.”
She sobbed as she realised he was out cold, and a brutal, twisted scream ripped itself from her throat, an unearthly, high sound that seemed to tear through the air itself as she rocked back and forth, clutching him in her arms. It only lasted a moment before years of rigorous training kicked in without her input, and she began to figure out how to get him to safety.
He wasn't heavy, and she knew she could carry him. She had done it before. She braced herself and hefted him over her shoulders, wincing under the weight. She had to get him to the Megalodon, and quickly.
As she began to walk, she said just one thing, a quiet vow spoken only to herself.
“You won't die here, Father. I promise it.”