“Ezekiel…”

  Maya clenched her fists as Victoria’s Exceed, Echoveil, projected Clara’s memories directly into her mind.

  The operation room of Luna Nordics was tense, everyone seated around the long table: Beatrice, Maya, and the two teams who completed their mission．

  Echoveil could project memories into visible form, though Victoria had carefully edited the most horrific parts. Even so, the fragments of Clara’s vision left the room in stunned silence.

  “Clara…”

  Emma pressed her hands together, crying as her whole body trembled.

  Ethan said nothing. But the pen in his hand snapped with a sharp crack.

  “From this, we can conclude Lumen Dei has acquired the technology to transform adults into Returners,” Beatrice said, her voice low, steady, deliberately stripped of emotion.

  “The type of Exceed is… Bioform Alteration.”

  Victoria couldn’t help but feel respect.

  (They can stay so calm, even after seeing this… These Luna executives really have been through hell.)

  Elizabeth, arms folded, nodded.

  “No physical contact before paralysis set in. That suggests airborne neurotoxins. Ezekiel might be carrying a toxin-based Exceed.”

  Beatrice inclined her head slightly.

  “Possible. Ethan, can Gray Archives supply an antidote?”

  “I’ll contact the biochem division.”

  Ethan sent a message through his wrist-mounted Listhon.

  Beatrice turned to Victoria and Emma, softening her gaze for a brief moment.

  “You two did well. Thanks to you, we have crucial intel. How’s Clara?”

  Emma answered before Victoria could speak, noticing her exhaustion.

  “She’s asleep now. She looked calmer than before we talked to her.”

  “Good. Thank you. And the Lumen Dei Academy infiltration?” Beatrice asked, taking a sip of coffee.

  Ethan placed a stack of ID cards on the table.

  “Here. Fully rewritten with Cybersprawl. These will get us anywhere inside the academy.”

  “Excellent. And the system hack?”

  Elizabeth sighed, frustration evident.

  “Almost total control—security, power, AI systems, everything. But there are two places we can’t breach: the 12th and 13th floors of the administration building. The headmaster and vice-headmaster’s offices are there. No data leaks in or out.”

  Beatrice’s eyes narrowed.

  “An isolated system. That’s where they’re waiting for us. Also, good work tracking the underground chapel to B3. Thank you, both of you.”

  She paused, set her coffee down, and finally said the words that chilled the room.

  “Lumen Dei—beneath the mask of religion, it’s a hub of human experimentation, organ trafficking, Returners research, and ties to the entertainment industry.

  But I believe its strings are being pulled by Myrkrsvalinn.”

  At that name, everyone except Maya stiffened.

  Maya tilted her head slightly. “Myrkrsvalinn…?”

  Beatrice gave her a brief look.

  “You’ve never heard of them. There are all kinds of Returners, Maya—some in mafia circles, some supremacists, some like the Gray Archives who live quietly among humans. But tell me—what kind of Returners would you call the most dangerous?”

  Maya swallowed, her mind spinning.

  “Um… Returners who hunt other Returners?”

  “Not quite.” Beatrice shook her head. “Violent Returners we can deal with. The real danger is Returners who trade their immortality—sell it to humans, give them power, influence, wealth, control of justice. Those who manipulate entire nations from the shadows.”

  Emma scowled.

  "The vilest kind of traitors."

  Ethan grimaced, leaning back in his chair.

  “Even the mafia sees them as a common enemy.”

  Beatrice’s tone darkened.

  “Myrkrsvalinn is a male-only organization. Misogynistic to the core. And deadly. Years ago, we fought one of them—a Returners who turned women into walking explosives. We had to let civilians die just to take him down.”

  Elizabeth cut in calmly.

  “We’re not saints. We don’t get to play heroes.”

  Beatrice nodded. “Exactly. And this time, I expect Myrkrsvalinn interference.”

  She looked at each of them in turn.

  “If they’re backing Lumen Dei, this won’t be simple.”

  Beatrice’s tone sharpened as she moved to the final briefing.

  “Ezekiel came to Eldrant before, specifically for Maya. He’s waiting for her. Considering his toxin-based Exceed, Maya and Emma will pair up.”

  Maya and Emma exchanged glances. Emma gave a determined nod—her Healing Palm Exceed would be crucial against poison.

  “As for the headmaster—he’s controlling a massive religious following. Likely a psychological manipulation Exceed. Victoria’s sensory abilities and Ethan’s truth-compulsion Exceed make the best counter.”

  Victoria and Ethan locked eyes, silent trust passing between them.

  “And if Myrkrsvalinn interferes—” Beatrice’s voice dropped an octave. “—I’ll handle them. If I fall, forget revenge. Escape immediately. Victoria will take command. If she’s down, Ethan takes over.”

  A heavy silence fell. The logic was sound, but the thought of Beatrice’s death weighed on everyone. Elizabeth alone seemed unshaken.

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  Elizabeth broke the tension with a wry smile.

  “I don’t seem to be on any of these teams.”

  “You’ll stay here, providing remote support. And if I die, you’ll lead Luna Nordics.” Beatrice’s words were flat, matter-of-fact.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Orders are orders. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “What about in a chaotic battle?” Ethan asked.

  “Target priorities remain the same. Adapt as needed.” Beatrice’s gaze swept across the room. “We’re Returners. We can only take revenge if we survive.”

  A cold smile touched her lips.

  "Survive first. Kill later.”

  The meeting ended soon after.

  Emma looked unusually cheerful as she left, whispering to Maya,

  “We’ve still got time. Let’s train hard—and kill Ezekiel together, okay?”

  Maya smiled faintly, watching her leave… until she realized she’d forgotten her scarf in the meeting room.

  Clara’s light sleep was interrupted by the soft glow of her Listhon.

  An incoming call.

  The name flashing on the screen froze her blood. Albina.

  The choir girl Ezekiel had slaughtered.

  (Albina…? She’s dead. Unless… she came back as a Returners…?)

  Heart pounding, Clara accepted the call.

  “…Albina?”

  No answer. Only a faint rustling, like someone feeling their way through a dark cave.

  Then the call cut.

  She tried calling back, but there was no connection.

  Clara sat frozen, face pale, staring at the silent screen.

  Maya retrieved her scarf and started toward her room when she caught it—the damp, unpleasant stench again. Not human.

  Her ears picked up a faint dragging sound.

  (Ether breathing. Focus…)

  She turned slowly.

  And there he was. Ezekiel.

  Just as in Clara’s memories, shirtless, arms transformed into four massive anacondas, tongues flicking in excitement.

  “I love you, Maya. I just couldn’t wait. I came to get you myself.

  Come now—let’s love each other.”

  The serpents twitched eagerly, echoing his twisted smile.

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  Anger surged hot in Maya’s chest as she shifted into stance, drawing a deep Ether-infused breath.

  Then the four anacondas lunged.

  The four serpents struck in unison.

  Maya blocked the first with a clean karate sweep—Beatrice’s training echoing in her mind—but she was too slow for the second.

  A wet crack echoed through her ribs, sharp enough to steal her breath.

  Pain lanced through her chest, stealing the air from her lungs.

  The third serpent slammed into her solar plexus.

  She gagged, coughing blood, vision swimming.

  The fourth smashed into her throat, crushing her breath entirely.

  Her body slammed back-first against the wall with a dull, heavy thud.

  “I can’t kill you yet, Maya. Not if we’re to love each other under God’s love.

  Believe it or not, I’m holding back.”

  Ezekiel’s smile widened as his serpents writhed, eager, tasting her fear.

  Maya pushed herself to her feet, one shaky breath at a time. Her body screamed in pain, but her anger burned hotter than ever.

  Then—her hair lifted, as if caught in an unseen wind. Blue sparks of energy crackled around her, tiny lightning bolts dancing over her skin, sinking into her wounds as if drawn by her fury.

  “You killed Clara. You killed the choir girls. You killed that florist girl, too…”

  The lightning condensed, crawling back into her muscles, feeding her strength.

  “Tricks won’t save you!”

  The serpents lunged again.

  But Maya had already vanished from their sight—closing the distance faster than their reflexes could track.

  Her fists struck like hammers.

  One smashed into Ezekiel’s solar plexus.

  Another drove into his throat.

  A third slammed into his center torso, each blow sharp, brutal, precise.

  “This isn’t over. Every sin, every cause and effect—you’ll pay it all back.”

  Her ice-blue eyes blazed with fury.

  Yet Ezekiel didn’t scream. Didn’t even groan.

  Instead, his body shimmered, breaking apart into flickering mosaic shards.

  A voice—not Ezekiel’s—cut through the hallway.

  “I see now, Maya. Your Exceed only reaches full power when you’re truly angry.

  No wonder it never surfaced during normal training.

  Excellent for real combat… but dangerous.”

  The mosaic faded.

  Standing in his place, arms folded, was Beatrice, watching her with a faintly approving smile.

  “Thank you again, Headmaster, for granting me the Bioform Alteration Exceed—and for the honor of serving as vice-headmaster.”

  Ezekiel bowed deeply, his tone reverent.

  His success was not measured by recruitment numbers. His true achievements lay in the human experimentation, organ trafficking, and child trafficking that fueled Lumen Dei’s darker ambitions.

  The headmaster, cigar between his fingers, smiled warmly—too warmly.

  “You’ve earned it, Ezekiel Balthazar. Thanks to you, our Returners research has advanced beautifully.”

  Ezekiel exhaled smoke, his grin crooked.

  “I grew up in a house where second place meant a beating. I killed my parents before I turned twenty and took the inheritance. Drove my sister to suicide first, of course.

  You see… when I see people living happily, I just… have to destroy it. Happiness always rots eventually. I’m doing them a favor by breaking it early.”

  The headmaster chuckled, eyes glinting.

  “Exactly. My own family was steeped in sexual depravity. It taught me a valuable truth—humans are worse than beasts. They’ll sacrifice anyone for their own pleasure.”

  He gestured casually to a row of books lining his office wall—his own works, all bestsellers among the faithful.

  “Personal happiness is built on someone else’s suffering. That simple rule is why we hold power.

  Oh, and a young believer came to me this morning—she’s entering the entertainment industry but was nervous about… certain things.”

  Ezekiel tilted his head. “And?”

  The headmaster’s smile widened, almost boyish.

  “I altered her personality and senses—so she’ll enjoy being used, body and soul. Our ties to the entertainment world must remain strong.”

  Ezekiel’s grin spread into something almost holy.

  “Wonderful. We truly are the apostles of God’s twisted love—showing these lost souls how to live happily in this world.”

  “Indeed,” the headmaster said, voice honey-sweet. “The Luna Nordics will arrive soon. With Myrkrsvalinn aiding us, let’s welcome them properly.

  We’ll teach them God’s love… our kind of love.”

  Ezekiel’s grin sharpened to something demonic.

  “With Myrkrsvalinn’s full power, the world itself could fall. I can’t wait to show them true love. Real love always hurts.”

  Their laughter filled the room—warm, joyful, completely monstrous.

  Thank you for reading, and see you in Chapter 15!

  check out my Substack article here:

  https://open.substack.com/pub/knishi2050/p/why-i-wrote-hells-returners?r=5wfkgu&utm_medium=ios)

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