Kai washed the blood off in the freezing Black Sea, and as he did, he couldn't help but wonder.

'Could there be sea beasts? Since beasts are just mutated animals, could fish mutate? But how would they get infected with the Z virus? I'm pretty sure Elara had some sea beasts, but she made those herself...'

It was an interesting trail of thought that kept him distracted from his gnawing bloodlust.

When he stepped out of the water, droplets of crimson swirled away behind him, fading into the waves. He raided the small office near the docks where the gunmen had been stationed, tossing aside papers and empty crates until he found something useful - a set of black combat uniforms.

The shirt hugged his frame tight, the fabric stretched over muscle and scar alike. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but he liked the look.

Amina handed him his sunglasses with a smirk. "You're really going for the mysterious killer aesthetic, huh?"

Kai slid them on, giving her a pose before laughing.

He picked up a pistol and a military knife from one of the mercenaries' belts, testing their weight in his hands. There was something familiar about it - the cold metal, the balance, the danger. Tools of control. Tools of pain.

Sure, he could make weapons out of blood, but sometimes steel just felt right. Quicker, cleaner. And when he needed to unleash his power, though he could draw blood through his pores, it was quicker and easier to cut his own palm and let the blood flow.

The tiny wounds would heal almost instantly anyway. By now, even slicing open his own skin barely felt like a sting - a sad reflection of how used to pain he'd become.

Inside the office, he also found a half-empty box of cigars and decided to try one. It was his first time.

He lit it with a shaky lighter, took a drag, and immediately coughed. "Tastes like shit, just like cigs," he muttered, taking another puff anyway. "Good shit, though."

They lounged around for a while, the tension from the earlier fight slowly fading. The mercenaries still lay sprawled in pools of their own blood, but it seemed as though this was a remote port that nobody went to.

When Ionut finally returned, it was in a rusted pickup that looked one flat tyre away from falling apart. "Get in," he said nervously. "Follow me."

They drove for about an hour through winding coastal roads and sleepy villages until the cracked tarmac opened up into a small airfield. There, waiting under a dull sunrise, was a massive cargo plane - its hull marked by the scuffs of countless illegal trades.

Kai took a slow look around. There were crates filled with luxury cars, exotic animals, and who-knew-what else. "Quite the operation you've got here," he said.

Ionut laughed weakly. "I'm just a humble trader, sir Bloodweaver."

They were then led to a steel container near the back of the hold. Inside was some bottled water, canned food, and a bucket.

Kai raised a brow. "Classy."

Before Ionut sealed them within, Kai stepped close enough that the smuggler couldn't help but gulp and feel a chill run down his spine. "If you're thinking of getting clever - like putting us on a plane that's not meant to land - I'll find you. I'll pull you apart piece by piece so painfully you'll wish that I killed you."

Ionut's smile twitched. "I-I would never have such a thought, Bloodweaver sir."

That was a lie. He had thought about it many times. But after watching Kai slaughter fifteen men and blind one of his own subordinates without breaking a sweat, the idea died quickly.

Meanwhile, Nadya's reputation alone made his stomach turn. He wasn't stupid enough to invite the wrath of the Mutant Outlaws. So, he swallowed his pride, his losses, and his fear, and shut the doors behind them.

The cargo bay rumbled to life, and soon they were in the air - trapped in a dark metal box for thirteen hours straight. The plane pitched and rolled with every gust of wind, tossing them around like dice in a cup.

Kai spent most of the trip sitting cross-legged in the corner, his sunglasses hanging from his collar, wishing for a smoke to pass the time. The craving burned, but with Lenny and Amina crammed beside him and no ventilation, it wasn't worth suffocating them all.

'This is hell,' he thought. 'A slow, rattling, boring hell.'

At some point, exhaustion got the better of him. He hadn't slept properly in days - maybe weeks - and even his healing factor couldn't patch up fatigue. His head dipped, his breathing slowed, and before long, he was asleep.

That's when it started.

His body twitched violently, sweat soaking through his shirt. His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles split. Every breath came out as a growl. His face twisted as if he were trapped in some unspeakable torment.

Amina and Lenny froze. Then they quietly shuffled to the far side of the container, hiding behind Nadya. The air grew cold, heavy. They could feel something dark swirling around him even as he slept.

'This again,' Nadya thought grimly, watching him with furrowed brows. She'd seen and heard about it many times over the past months they'd spent together. Every time Kai slept, the nightmares came for him - violent, relentless, soaked in blood. And when he woke…

His eyes snapped open. Red. Burning. Inhuman.

He sat up, breathing like a beast that had just tasted fresh meat. Everyone else stiffened. Nadya didn't flinch, but she stayed ready, her stance low, hands flexed - just in case he lost control again.

Kai looked around, saw their fear, and slowly slicked back his sweat-damp hair with a trembling hand. Then, he smiled weakly and dipped his head. "Sorry about that. Haven't slept in a while."

His voice was calm, but his eyes told another story - wild and hungry beneath the surface.

He hated sleeping. Hated the nightmares that clawed at his mind. Every time, it felt like he was trapped in some blood-soaked ritual, his body a vessel for something monstrous that wanted to consume him whole. But no matter how strong he was, even he couldn't go forever without rest.

The silence that followed was thick and awkward. None of them knew what to say.

Then, mercifully, the plane began to descend. The container rattled hard as the wheels touched down, and the engines roared in reverse.

When they eventually came to exit the plane, they were surprised to be met by a familiar face waiting for them on the tarmac...

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