Janzo didn't sleep that night.
He sat slouched over his desk, candlelight flickering against his tired eyes, the image of Talon chained in that dark cell playing over and over in his head. Guilt and worry gnawed at him. He knew Garrett wouldn't let her go. He also knew Talon—she would never break, never talk, and that would only make things worse.
"If I don't act now," he whispered, "she'll die down there."
Then something sparked in his mind.
An idea. Risky. Dangerous. But it just might work.
He turned quickly to his shelf, pulling out a small glass vial filled with a clear blue liquid. Next to it, a tiny injector—thin as a pin. And beside that, a sealed jar containing a foggy vapor swirling within like a ghost trapped in glass.
"This... might just do it," he said to himself.
He carefully prepared the serum. A mixture he had spent years perfecting. It was made to slow down the body, slow it so much the heart would almost stop. A person would appear dead—no pulse, no breath. But only for a short while.
"Enough time to get her out," Janzo muttered, sealing the vial and sliding it inside a small, plump grape.
He chose five of the largest grapes and injected each one with the serum. Then he arranged them neatly on a small wooden plate, with a piece of stale bread and a clay cup of water. Just enough to pass as a prison meal.
Janzo grabbed his cloak and rushed out of his lab. He needed someone inside—someone trusted enough to carry food to a prisoner, and foolish enough not to ask too many questions.
He found her in the courtyard—a young prison maid named Marla. She had been serving food in Garrett's base for months.
"Marla," Janzo called out softly, approaching her with calm urgency. "The woman who was brought in—the one with the dark hair. She's suffering from severe abdominal pain. I made something that should help. But it must be taken with food."
Marla blinked. "I didn't hear anything about her being sick."
"It just started. No time to waste," Janzo added firmly. "Here, take this plate. Make sure she eats the grapes. They'll calm her system and help with the pain."
Marla hesitated—but Janzo was known throughout the Outpost as the brilliant healer, the problem solver. She nodded and took the tray. "Alright. I'll get it to her right away."
"Thank you," Janzo said, hiding the tremble in his voice. "And… don't say it came from me."
Minutes passed like hours.
He waited in his lab, pacing. Fingers tapping the glass jars, mind racing. If Talon refused to eat them, the plan would fail. If she ate too many, she could really die. But he knew her. She was clever. She would sense something was up. She'd follow the clue.
An hour later, they came.
Two guards wheeled in a stretcher. On it lay Talon's body—limp, lifeless, eyes closed. Marla stood behind them, looking confused and pale.
"She's dead," one of the guards said. "Collapsed after eating. Garrett says to pass her on to you. Do your autopsy. Find out what happened."
Janzo nodded, trying not to look panicked. "Yes… yes, of course. Leave her with me."
As soon as they left, he locked the doors, shut the blinds, and rushed to Talon's side.
He pressed two fingers to her neck. Nothing.
No heartbeat. No breathing.
But he wasn't afraid.
Not yet.
He rushed to the jar on the counter—the swirling gas he had sealed for months. This was the second part of the plan. A gentle vapor that could trigger the body's systems to restart when the serum had done its job. He pulled the cork, and a puff of cold, silvery smoke escaped into the air.
Janzo leaned close to her and blew it gently over Talon's face.
At first—nothing.
Then—her fingers twitched.
A cough escaped her lips.
Her eyes flew open.
She gasped, eyes wild, looking around in panic before locking onto Janzo.
"You…" she rasped. "What… happened?"
Janzo gave a soft laugh, relief flooding his face. "Shh. You're safe. For now. I told you… I'd come through."
Talon stared at him. She understood.
She wasn't in prison anymore.
Not really.
She had just come back from the dead.