<h4>Chapter 126: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY SIX: tlined</h4>


    Kendrick’s POV


    Mason and I were already out of the restaurant before the waiter even realized the table had been sent flying.


    The calmness in my chest felt unreal, like the world had gone mute everywhere except inside my head.


    "Get in," I said sharply as I unlocked the car. Mason didn’t say a word, he just mmed the door and pulled the seatbelt with enough force to almost tear it off.


    The drive to the hospital felt like the longest five minutes of my life.


    Mason was shaking his leg nonstop, his jaw clenched so hard I could hear the faint click of his teeth grinding.


    I didn’t bother calming him and I couldn’t.


    My own calmness wasn’t peace, it was the eye of a damn hurricane waiting to rip everything apart.


    The hospital entrance was already a mess when we arrived, nurses running, a panicked young doctor arguing with a security guard, the emergency elevator open with a stretcher still inside it like someone forgot to push it out.


    A soldier in uniform spotted us and rushed forward.


    "Mr. Kendrick! Captain Mason! This way, please, the general insisted on seeing you two only."


    That didn’t make me feel better.


    If anything, it made my stomach tighten.


    It is definitely something important if a dying man is insisting.


    We were ushered into the ICU, and the cold, sharp smell of disinfectant hit my nostrils. Machines beeped in a chaotic rhythm, nurses whispered to each other, and right in the middle of it ally the general, a man who used tomand entire battalions with just his voice.


    Now, he looked like someone’s frail grandfather about to take his final breath.


    His skin was pale, almost gray. His lips were cracked. There was blood on the corner of his mouth that hadn’t been fully cleaned up.


    And worst of all, his eyes that were once sharp and calcting eyes, now looked clouded and dull.


    The nurses stepped aside when they saw us.


    "Mason..." he whispered, sounding like the air was cutting him from the inside.


    Mason rushed to his side. I stood at the foot of the bed, gripping the cold metal rail to stop myself from losingposure.


    "What happened?" I asked quietly.


    He swallowed painfully. "Michaelson... family..."


    I knew it.


    I fucking knew it.


    He took a shallow breath, his chest barely rising. "Your grandfather... the old head of the Michaelson family... he wants... to eliminate me. Because... because I found it."


    Mason moved closer. "Found what, sir?"


    "The base," he rasped. "His hidden soldiers... experiments... all of it. The location is... is... XX... deep mountains... country N..."


    He started coughing violently.


    A nurse stepped forward but the general raised a trembling hand to stop her, insisting on finishing his sentence.


    "...he poisoned my family... everyone... only Isted long enough... to warn you two..."


    His voice faded.


    For a second, the room felt too quiet.


    Then—


    Beeeeeeeeeeep.


    A tline.


    Just like that... he was gone.


    The nurses scrambled. One of them shouted for the crash cart.


    Mason stood frozen, eyes wide, hands balled into fists so tight his knuckles turned white.


    "NO!" he barked, grabbing the railing. "Bring him back! He wasn’t supposed to— Don’t touch him! DO SOMETHING!"


    A doctor rushed in, but I ced a hand on Mason’s shoulder.


    "He’s gone," I said quietly.


    "NO HE’S NOT!" he snapped, shoving my hand off. His voice cracked — something I’d never heard from him. "He said he would tell us everything! He said— he said—"


    His knees buckled slightly.


    "Mason," I said firmly, grabbing his jacket and pulling him close so he would focus on me. "Look at me."


    His eyes were glossy with rage. Pure, explosive rage.


    "We’re going to destroy them," I whispered. "Every single one of them. But not recklessly."


    He swallowed hard, chest heaving.


    "You want to storm the base right now," I said. "But think. That’s exactly what they want. For us to move blindly. For us to be emotional. For us to rush."


    Mason ran a shaky hand over his face. "He died because of them. His entire family—"


    "I know."


    "And you’re calm?!" he yelled.


    I didn’t reply.


    Because I wasn’t calm.


    I was burning. Quietly. Numbly. Violently.


    A slow poison simmering under my skin.


    Finally, he exhaled sharply. "What do we do now?"


    "We act like we know nothing," I said. "We pretend we arrived toote. We pretend we’re shocked. We pretend we have no leads. If we show even a hint of direction, the Michaelson spies in this hospital will know he talked."


    Mason blinked. Then nodded once.


    "You’re right."


    "Good. Then get the doctors."


    I turned toward the shocked medical team and said, loud enough for anyone watching or listening:


    "Please record that the general had already passed before we entered the ICU."


    The head doctor frowned. "But sir, you... "


    "We arrivedte, he had already tlined," I interrupted him with a cold smile. "Isn’t that right, doctor?"


    His eyes widened in understanding.


    "Yes... yes, sir. That’s... exactly what will be written."


    Good.


    I stepped back, putting on the mask of sorrow.


    Mason mirrored me immediately and damn, he should win an award because the pain in his expression looked so real even I almost believed it.


    "We’ll find who did this," I said loudly, voice trembling just enough. "We won’t let the general die without justice."


    A few nurses bowed their heads sadly.


    Let the spies hear that.


    Let them think we’re clueless.


    The moment we stepped into the hallway, Mason pulled out his phone and dialed one of his men.


    "Start a full investigation into the general’s poisoning. Every meal, every drink, every visitor. I want surveince, DNA tests, everything. And do it loudly, make sure every rat in this hospital hears about it."


    A perfect performance.


    The call wasn’t for finding answers.


    We already knew the culprit.


    This was to flush out the spies trying to monitor our reactions.


    "We’ll catch whoever did this!" Mason said loudly, shaking with fake frustration as two nurses walked past. "I swear on my life, Kendrick — we’ll catch them!"


    I nodded and ced a heavy hand on his shoulder, making sure it looked like I was struggling to keep myself together.


    Then I spoke softly, but with enough rage to sell the act:


    "They killed our mentor. They killed a father to you. We won’t rest. We won’t stop. They’ll pay."


    The nurses exchanged a look.


    Good.


    Let the gossip spread.


    As soon as they were gone, Mason lowered his voice and sighed.


    "This feels wrong," he muttered. "Acting like this."


    "War is dirty," I replied. "And so are we going to be."


    He nodded.


    As we walked down the hallway, I suddenly remembered Christy.


    Her soft voice... worried eyes and warm hand in mine.


    She was upstairs, somewhere in the VIP ward, staying with her sick mother.


    Just the thought of her grounded me a little.


    I needed to see her.


    "I’m going to Christy," I said. "Stay here, finish the calls, make the noise. And make sure the cameras caught your breakdown."


    He smirked despite the tension. "I kicked a table earlier, I think the cameras got enough."


    I huffed a shortugh. "Yeah, you probably traumatized half the restaurant."


    "I’ll try my best," he shrugged.


    But his smile faded quickly as reality sank back in.


    "We’re really going to war, aren’t we?" he asked quietly.


    "Not just war," I said. "We’re going to burn them from the inside. And for that... we stay calm."


    His eyes hardened. "Understood."


    I left him and took the elevator up to the VIP floor.


    My heartbeat changed the moment I stepped out — softer, slower, like my chest finally recognized the ce.


    Christy was here.


    The corridor lights were dim.


    The nurses walked quietly.


    The whole floor felt peaceful, theplete opposite of the chaos downstairs.


    I stopped outside her mother’s room and took a breath before pushing the door open.


    Christy was sitting beside the bed, gently wiping her mother’s arm with warm water.


    Her hair was tied up messily, her eyes a little tired, but she still looked like the most beautiful thing I’d seen today.


    She looked up at me immediately.


    "Kendrick...? What happened? Your face looks—"


    I crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into my arms before she could finish.


    She tensed in surprise but hugged me back instantly, her hands sliding up my back.


    "What happened?" she whispered against my chest.


    Calmness.


    That damn calmness again.


    But when she held me, it actually made sense.


    It didn’t feel forced or dangerous.


    It just felt... grounding.


    "The general died," I murmured, burying my face in her hair. "He was poisoned."


    She gasped softly and held me tighter.


    "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I know he was important to you."


    "He was important to Mason too," I said quietly. "He raised him like a son."


    She pulled back enough to look at me, brushing a thumb along my jaw.


    "What can I do?" she asked gently.


    I cupped her face. "Just stay by my side."


    She nodded.


    I kissed her forehead — slow, lingering, grateful.


    Her mother stirred slightly on the bed, and Christy quickly pulled away to check her.


    I sat on the couch, watching her move around the room with soft, careful hands.


    There was something soothing about Christy during moments like this.


    Something that made the chaos in my mind go silent.


    For the first time since the call came in, I exhaled deeply.


    Christy nced back at me. "Do you want water? You look tired."


    I shook my head and stood, walking toward her slowly.


    "No," I said. "I just want you."


    Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lower lip shyly.


    I pulled her into my chest again, resting my chin on her head.


    This war... this storm...and troubles.


    Everything could wait for a few minutes.


    Because right now, holding her was the only thing keeping me human.