Emerging from the wreckage, the operative joined his fellow agents, who stood sentinel-like around the rest of the group. The atmosphere outside was chaotic yet controlled, with emergency lights casting flickering shadows across the devastated landscape. Sirens wailed in the distance as rescue teams and medical personnel swarmed the area, tending to the injured and searching for survivors amid the smoldering ruins of what had once been a spectacular venue.

As the operative approached, Zola's eyes widened in alarm, and she broke into a sprint toward them. Her voice cracked with worry as she called out, "Vas! What happened to him? Is he okay?"

The operative remained silent, his expression hidden behind the enigmatic mask. Despite Zola's pleading gaze, he offered no response, holding Vas securely while maintaining a vigilant stance. The other operatives mirrored his demeanor, forming a protective circle around the group as if anticipating further threats.

Frustration and fear flashed across Zola's face, but before she could press further, the distant drone of helicopters signaled the arrival of more rescue units and media crews. The scene quickly became a whirlwind of activity—paramedics rushing to and fro, reporters clamoring for information, and survivors huddled together, some sobbing, others staring blankly into the night, their faces etched with shock and despair.

Amidst the chaos, Hugo, Zola and Kairo's father, emerged from the wreckage, his once immaculate attire now stained with dust and grime. Despite his disheveled appearance, he carried himself with a calm authority, cradling a young model in his arms. The woman's exquisite dress was torn and sullied, her body unnaturally rigid and eyes vacant, as though trapped in a waking nightmare. Whatever horrors she had endured inside had left her in a state of profound shock, her mind and body frozen by trauma or some sinister influence.

Hugo's eyes scanned the crowd frantically until they settled on his children. Relief washed over his features as he hurried toward them, his voice laced with concern. "Zola! Kairo! Thank heavens you're safe. What on earth happened in there?"

Zola met her father's worried gaze, her own eyes reflecting the turmoil of the night's events. "It's a long story, Dad. There was an attack—we had to fight our way out. We'll explain everything later, I promise."

Hugo hesitated, his gaze shifting briefly to the unconscious Vas and the silent operatives surrounding them. The unspoken questions hung heavily in the air, but he chose to trust his daughter's words, nodding slowly. "Alright, but we're getting you both checked out by medics first."

Carmilla, her face pale and streaked with soot, stepped forward, gesturing toward Vas. "What about Vas? He needs medical attention too."

The operatives remained impassive, their silence conveying an unyielding resolve. It was clear they had their own protocols to follow, and outside intervention was neither needed nor welcomed. The tension between the group and the operatives was palpable, an invisible line drawn between concern and duty.

As minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the cacophony of rescue efforts continued around them. The wounded were ferried away on stretchers, and clusters of survivors huddled under thermal blankets, their faces ghostly in the flashing lights. Reporters jostled for statements, their cameras capturing every harrowing moment, while authorities cordoned off sections of the area, their radios crackling with urgent updates.

Amidst this sea of chaos, a fleet of sleek, luxury vehicles glided to a stop nearby, their polished surfaces reflecting the kaleidoscope of emergency lights. The doors opened in unison, and a team of well-dressed individuals stepped out, exuding an air of authority and control that contrasted sharply with the surrounding disorder. Their presence commanded immediate attention, and even the bustling rescue workers seemed to pause, casting curious glances toward the newcomers.

One of the figures, a distinguished-looking man with sharp features and a tailored suit, approached the group. His gaze swept over the scene, taking in Vas's unconscious form and the protective stance of the operatives. With a subtle nod, he signaled to his associates, who moved swiftly and efficiently, creating a perimeter that shielded the group from prying eyes and intrusive cameras.

Zola exchanged a wary glance with Kairo, her voice barely above a whisper as she asked, "Who are these people?"

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Kairo's eyes narrowed, suspicion evident in his voice. "I don't know, but they seem to be connected to Gerald's network."

As if on cue, the distinguished man addressed the operatives with a tone of unquestionable authority. "We'll take it from here. Ensure that all protocols are followed, and discretion is maintained."

The lead operative nodded curtly, gently transferring Vas into the care of the newcomers. Zola stepped forward, concern overriding caution. "Wait, where are you taking him? He needs medical attention—let us come with you."

The man regarded her with a measured gaze, his expression softening slightly. "Rest assured, Miss, he'll receive the best care possible. For now, it's best that you and your friends allow us to handle this matter."

Hugo interjected, his protective instincts flaring. "These are my children, and their friend. I have a right to know what's going on."

The man inclined his head respectfully. "Of course, Mr. Hugo. All necessary information will be provided in due time. Right now, the priority is everyone's safety and well-being. We have arrangements in place to ensure that."

Despite lingering doubts, the exhaustion and stress of the night's events left little room for further argument. As Vas was carefully placed into one of the vehicles, Zola's eyes followed him, a mix of worry and helplessness churning within her. She felt Kairo's reassuring hand on her shoulder, grounding her amidst the uncertainty.

As the fleet of vehicles prepared to depart, the distinguished man turned back once more, his gaze settling on the group. "Take care of yourselves. We'll be in touch soon."

Before the man could leave, his device buzzed with an incoming call. Though the rest of the group couldn't see who was on the other end, the change in his demeanor was immediate. His eyes flicked back to them with renewed focus. "Everyone, get into one of the vehicles. Apparently, the orders weren't fully conveyed—we're taking you all with us." With a swift gesture, he signaled the drivers to open the doors, their mechanical hum cutting through the stillness.

For a moment, everyone stood frozen, processing the abrupt change.

"Please hurry," the man urged, his tone sharpening with impatience. "We don't have time to waste."

His words jolted them into action. Zola, Kairo, Carmilla, and the others quickly moved toward the open vehicles, the reality of the situation settling in. The doors closed with a soft thud once everyone was accounted for, leaving Hugo standing alone, still processing the events with a dazed expression.

"Mr. Hugo," the man called out, his voice firm but polite, "please board one of the vehicles."

Hugo blinked, surprised. "Me too?"

"Of course," the man replied with a hint of urgency. "Please, we can't afford any more delays."

Realizing he had little choice, Hugo complied, climbing into the nearest vehicle. As the convoy began to roll forward, Hugo stared out the window, his thoughts racing. He was well aware of the Hek family's influence, but the ease with which they commanded authority was staggering. As they moved, the chaotic scene outside seemed to part before them—authorities, rescue teams, and news crews alike stepped aside, clearing the way for their passage. How the Hek family wielded such power was beyond his comprehension.

Hugo's curiosity deepened as he noticed the route they were taking. They weren't heading toward any of the familiar clinics or hospitals within the city. Instead, the vehicles navigated toward a secluded area on the outskirts, where the urban landscape gave way to an expansive estate. The convoy came to a stop in front of a building with stunning architecture, its sleek, modern design blending seamlessly with the surrounding greenery.

As the doors opened, the man stepped out first, his posture stiff with purpose. A striking woman, fully dressed in a doctor's gown, awaited them at the entrance. Her presence was commanding, yet there was a calmness to her that immediately set her apart.

"Ms. Lorraine, we've brought everyone," the man announced as he approached her.

"Good," Lorraine replied with a nod, her eyes scanning the group. "Bring them inside. Our teams are ready to conduct thorough examinations."

Her words left no room for doubt. This was no ordinary facility, and the care they were about to receive was far beyond the standard medical treatment. As they were ushered inside, Hugo couldn't shake the feeling that they had just crossed a threshold into a world where the Hek family's influence reigned supreme—a world where secrets were kept, and power was quietly but unmistakably exercised.

"Mr. Hugo," Lorraine greeted with a composed yet welcoming smile, "welcome to the Sync Research Center."

The name hit Hugo with sudden clarity. It was no wonder he hadn't recognized the location. The Sync Research Center had grown into a powerhouse in recent years, especially after its partnership with the Hek family was made public. Their growth had been nothing short of exponential, securing contracts with the government and becoming a major player in cutting-edge research and technology. Hugo, leading a life far removed from such circles, had never imagined he would find himself at the heart of this influential institution.

"Please follow me," Lorraine continued, her tone both professional and reassuring. "We'll conduct a full scan to ensure everything is in order."

As they began walking down the sleek, modern corridors of the center, Lorraine explained further. "We're currently running comprehensive procedures on all of the children. Each of them is receiving a personalized assessment based on their experiences and injuries."