Lilia found Silas in his usual spot—half-buried in blankets, headphones perched atop his head, hands deep in a game on his iPad.

“Silas,” she said, stepping into his workspace.

He grunted in acknowledgment, not looking up from the game he was playing. “You sound serious.”

“I need you to build something for me.”

That got his attention. He pushed his headphones up, tilting his head. “What kind of ‘something’?”

Lilia hesitated, but only for a moment. “A weapon.”

Silas blinked. “You don’t use weapons.”

“This one isn’t for killing,” she clarified. “I need something that can capture someone. Restrain them, make sure they can’t escape.”

Silas rubbed his chin, considering. “Like… a net gun?”

Lilia shook her head. “Too easy to cut through. I need something that sticks. Something that holds.”

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Silas’s fingers drummed against the table. Then, his lips quirked into a grin. “I might have an idea.”

A few days later, Lilia returned to find Silas grinning smugly, a sleek-looking gun sitting on the workbench.

“Behold,” he said dramatically, lifting it with both hands. “A masterpiece.”

Lilia arched a brow. “Explain.”

Silas clicked a switch, ejecting a small, smooth bullet into his palm. “These bad boys? They don’t just hit people. The moment they make contact, they deploy tiny mechanical spiders.”

He tossed the bullet onto the workbench. Immediately, it cracked open, and a handful of metallic creatures skittered out. They unraveled thin, silken wires—webbing that gleamed under the light.

“They latch onto the target,” Silas continued, watching the spiders work. “Spin their web. Within seconds, they’re completely immobilized.”

Lilia watched in fascination as the little machines bound a nearby wrench in seconds, trapping it in a cocoon of reinforced wire.

A slow smile spread across her lips.

“This is perfect.”

That night, Lilia sat with Miniet, Silas, and a few others, a map spread before them. Her finger traced the outline of a desolate expanse—an abandoned stretch of land not far from the old research facility.

“We lure Edian here,” she said, voice calm, controlled. “Away from camp, away from the Elders.”

Miniet nodded, her small features sharp with focus. “And once he’s there?”

Lilia’s grip on the gun tightened. “We trap him.”

Silas leaned back, arms crossed. “And then?”

Lilia exhaled slowly, eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“Then,” she said, “he’ll finally understand what it feels like to be helpless.”