Cassian had always known this moment would come.
Not this exact shape. Not this name. But the moment where every option carried blood, and the least violent choice was still unforgivable.
It arrived quietly.
As they always did.
The intel came through an encrypted side channel Cassian hadn't used in months—a redundancy meant only for emergencies so severe they couldn't be acknowledged openly.
The sender was Mara.
Cassian froze when he saw the name.
Mara had been with him since before Rafael. Before hierarchy hardened into doctrine. She was sharp, loyal, and deeply principled—one of the few people Cassian trusted without contingency.
Her message was short.
He's testing you. He wants proof.
Cassian stared at the screen.
Then the second message arrived.
If you don't give him something real, he takes something public. Someone visible.
Cassian closed his eyes.
Anabeth.
Hale was narrowing the funnel.
---
They met in the underground operations room—Rafael, Cassian, Anabeth. The air felt heavier here, reinforced concrete pressing in like the weight of consequence.
Cassian laid it out without softening the edges.
"He wants a sacrifice," Cassian said. "Someone internal. Someone whose loss proves I'll choose the system over sentiment."
Rafael's expression darkened. "He's forcing your hand."
"Yes," Cassian replied. "And if I don't play, he escalates publicly."
Anabeth didn't speak immediately. When she did, her voice was steady. "Who?"
Cassian hesitated for the first time.
"Mara."
Rafael's eyes flicked to him sharply. "She's clean."
"She's visible," Cassian said. "And she has access."
Anabeth's brow furrowed. "You're saying Hale thinks she matters to you."
"He knows," Cassian replied. "Because she does."
Silence followed.
Rafael spoke first. "We don't trade our people."
Cassian met his gaze. "Hale already is."
Anabeth looked between them. "What does 'sacrifice' mean?"
Cassian exhaled. "It means letting Hale believe I've cut her loose."
"And what happens to her?" Anabeth asked.
Cassian's jaw tightened. "He'll take her."
Rafael stood abruptly. "Absolutely not."
Cassian didn't raise his voice. "If we don't give him this, he goes after you through her." He looked at Anabeth. "Publicly. Irreversibly."
Anabeth felt the truth of it settle like cold water.
Rafael shook his head. "There has to be another way."
Cassian's voice dropped. "There isn't one that doesn't involve innocent casualties."
Rafael stared at him. "You're asking me to let you destroy someone who trusts you."
Cassian didn't flinch. "I'm telling you what Hale has already decided."
---
Mara arrived an hour later.
She took in the room with a single glance and smiled faintly at Cassian. "You look like hell."
He didn't return the smile.
"Sit," he said.
She did.
Cassian told her everything.
No omissions.
No euphemisms.
He watched her face change—shock, anger, clarity—all in measured succession.
"So," she said when he finished, "I'm the test."
"Yes."
"And if you refuse?"
"He escalates."
She leaned back, considering. "And you think I'll survive him?"
Cassian's throat tightened. "I don't know."
Rafael interjected sharply. "This isn't happening."
Mara looked at him calmly. "It already is."
She turned back to Cassian. "You wouldn't be telling me unless the alternative was worse."
"Yes," Cassian said quietly.
Mara nodded slowly. "Then don't lie to yourself. This isn't sacrifice."
"What is it?" Anabeth asked softly.
Mara met her gaze. "Triage."
She stood.
"I'll go," Mara said.
Cassian's control fractured for just a second. "No. I won't—"
"You will," she interrupted. "Because if you don't, he wins twice."
Rafael's voice was strained. "You don't owe us this."
Mara smiled sadly. "I owe the people who don't know they're about to be hurt."
She turned to Cassian. "You'll make it convincing."
"Yes," Cassian said hoarsely.
"And you'll come for me," she added. Not a question.
Cassian nodded. "If there's any way."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "There always is. You just have to live long enough to see it."
Then she left.
Cassian stood frozen long after the door closed.
---
The fallout was immediate.
Cassian issued the order himself—Mara reassigned, credentials revoked, access terminated. It rippled through the compound like a shockwave.
Whispers ignited.
Doubt spread.
Hale's response came within the hour.
A single message.
Good. You still understand leverage.
Cassian crushed the device in his hand.
Anabeth watched him from across the room. "You're not okay."
"No," Cassian said. "But he bought it."
"And Mara?" she asked.
Cassian looked away. "She's in his hands now."
Rafael slammed his fist into the table. "This is madness."
Cassian met his gaze. "This is war."
---
That night, Cassian stood alone in the courtyard, the city's glow bleeding over the walls.
Anabeth approached quietly.
"You didn't tell me something," she said.
Cassian didn't turn. "What?"
"You're not just sacrificing her," she said. "You're sacrificing yourself."
He closed his eyes. "I crossed a line tonight."
She stepped closer. "You crossed it because you believe in the endgame."
"Yes."
"And if the endgame fails?" she asked.
Cassian opened his eyes. "Then I deserve what comes."
She shook her head. "You're not disposable."
He gave a faint, humorless smile. "Everyone is."
She placed a hand on his arm. "Not to me."
The words grounded him more than she knew.
---
Elsewhere, Hale watched Mara being escorted into a secure location, his expression satisfied.
"Cassian chose correctly," Hale murmured.
An aide hesitated. "And if he comes for her?"
Hale smiled thinly. "Then we'll see if guilt sharpens him—or dulls him."
He turned back to the screen, eyes gleaming.
"Either way," he said, "he's finally bleeding."
---
Back at the compound, Cassian made a private vow.
He would end this.
Not cleanly.
Not nobly.
But completely.
Because the next sacrifice—
Would not be one of his own.