Rebirth: A Second chance at life-Chapter 46: Tit for Tat!!

A wave of panic surged through the crowd. Murmurs turned to frantic shouts. Some tried to switch on their phone flashlights—nothing. The power was completely cut off.

Chaos erupted as people stumbled over each other in their blind attempts to escape. Michael’s breath came in ragged gasps as he fumbled for a weapon, his fingers trembling.

"Who... Who the hell is doing this?!" he snarled, but deep down, he already knew.

Sebastian’s team moved like shadows in the dark, executing their mission with swift precision. Within minutes, they had infiltrated every corner of the auction hall, working methodically to secure the victims.

Children and captives, some too weak to stand, were gently ushered into waiting vans. The ones who had already been auctioned were also retrieved, their so-called buyers left incapacitated or dead where they stood.

Liam, after confirming that every victim had been secured, relayed the signal to Sebastian.

"It’s done. They’re all safe," he said, his voice steady through the earpiece.

Sebastian’s gaze darkened as he stood amidst the chaos. The mission wasn’t over yet. The real predators were still inside, unaware that their reign of terror was about to end.

"Good," Sebastian murmured, rolling his shoulders. His fingers flexed at his sides, his expression unreadable.

Liam knew what was coming next.

Without another word, Sebastian turned, striding toward the auction hall, where the remaining monsters still believed they held power. But tonight, they would learn the true meaning of fear..

Michael’s breath hitched as panic clawed at his chest. He frantically tapped at his phone, but there was still no signal. His men—his last line of defense—were gone. No responses. No reinforcements.

He swallowed hard. If this auction failed, if he lost even a single "asset," those in the shadows who funded him wouldn’t just let him walk away. His life would be forfeit.

But now... it seemed he wouldn’t even live long enough to face their wrath.

A cold dread settled in his bones. He had miscalculated.

Before he could react, a brutal force slammed into his side. Pain exploded through his ribs as he stumbled backward. Another blow struck his gut, knocking the air from his lungs.

A steel grip yanked him forward, and fists rained down on him mercilessly. The darkness shrouded his attackers, but Michael knew—whoever they were, they weren’t here to negotiate.

Terror consumed him as he struggled, but it was futile.

Michael’s body was dragged across the cold marble floor, his boots scraping against the ground as he struggled. A sharp grip locked around his arms, preventing any chance of escape. His breaths came in ragged gasps, fear clawing at his throat.

Who were they?

The only name that echoed in his mind was Hades.

No one else had the power, the audacity, or the sheer ruthlessness to shut down an operation of this scale. No one but her.

But something was wrong. Hades was dead. Wasn’t she?

A cold sweat trickled down his temple. If it wasn’t Hades... then who?

His gut churned as realization settled in—whoever these people were, they were no better than her.

Michael had no idea where he was. The deafening screams from moments ago had vanished, swallowed by an unsettling silence. The weight of the fabric over his face made each breath feel suffocating, his lungs straining against the stale air. His hands were bound, his body immobile, yet his instincts screamed at him—something was terribly wrong.

Then, abruptly, the world around him went still.

Not a single whisper, not a footstep. Just the heavy thudding of his own panicked heartbeat. His fingers twitched against the restraints, the cold bite of fear settling deep in his bones.

Then came the hands—firm, unyielding. A sharp yank, and the mask was ripped from his face.

A low, guttural grumbling echoed around him, followed by strange, wet sounds that sent a chill racing down his spine. His breath hitched, his entire body stiff with terror. Then, with a sudden flicker, the lights snapped on.

What he saw made his stomach drop.

His eyes widened in horror as a wave of nausea crashed over him. The scene before him was beyond comprehension—grotesque, inhuman. The once-distinguished guests of the auction had turned into rabid beasts, clawing and tearing at each other like deranged creatures. Flesh was ripped apart, blood splattered across the walls, and agonized screams filled the air. Limbs twisted unnaturally, hands dug into eye sockets, teeth sank into throats with sickening crunches.

A strangled cry tore from Michael’s lips. His entire body trembled as the acrid stench of blood and death filled his nostrils. Warm liquid seeped down his legs, but he was too paralyzed by fear to care. Tears mixed with snot as he shook his head frantically, his mind unable to process the carnage before him.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

And yet, the nightmare unfolded right before his very eyes.

Michael truly wished he had thrown himself out of the building—at least then, death would have been swift, a single moment of pain before everything faded to nothing. But now, trapped in this living nightmare, there was no escape.

Sebastian had released a special drug into the air—one designed to strip away sanity itself. Within moments, the effects took hold. The once-powerful men and women who had thrived on the misery of the helpless began to convulse, their eyes rolling back as hysteria took over.

Some clawed at their own skin, shrieking at invisible horrors. Others turned on each other with manic aggression, their minds consumed by vivid hallucinations and uncontrollable psychosis. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, fear, and madness.

A fitting punishment. A taste of the torment they had inflicted upon others.

Sebastian watched the scene unfold on his laptop, his expression unreadable. The chaos, the bloodshed—it was a fitting end for those who thrived on the suffering of others. Still, the sheer madness of it all was nauseating. Disgust twisted in his gut, but he made no move to stop it.

Now, it was time to burn it all down.

"Start the fire," Sebastian ordered, his voice cold and unwavering.

Without hesitation, Liam nodded, already moving to execute the command.

On the other side, after working tirelessly for five hours, Aurora finally had the report in her hands. Her fingers tightened around the papers as she scanned the results, her expression unreadable. Though she had expected this outcome, seeing the confirmation before her eyes she felt an unexpected relief.

Lily wasn’t her mother.

If Lily wasn’t her mother, then the woman she had called grandmother all her life wasn’t related to her either.

But the relief was short-lived. A strange tightness gripped her chest, an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Was it hers, or the remnants of the original Aurora?

The original Aurora’s grandmother had loved her immensely—she had seen it in her memories, felt it in her heart. Despite the disdain of her parents from a young age and the cruelty she endured, the time spent with her grandmother was the only moment she had truly known what familial love was.

Lily had always claimed to love her, yet love had come in the form of bruises and harsh words. "I beat you because I love you," Lily would say, but Aurora had never felt warmth in those moments—only pain.

With her grandmother, it had been different. The old lady had cared for her in her own way, offering the only genuine affection Aurora had ever known. She remembered a time when hunger gnawed at her and they had no money. Her grandmother had gone without food for two days, using the little they had to buy what Aurora wanted.

That alone made this revelation bittersweet.

Still, one thing brought her satisfaction—Lily wasn’t biologically related to this body. That wretched woman had no blood ties to her, and that was a relief in itself.

But then... did Lily know?

From her behavior, it was obvious. She knew. And yet, she had kept Aurora by her side, raised her, abused her, tormented her.

Why?

What was Lily hiding?

How was Aurora a threat to her?

Aurora came out of the lab, exhaustion weighing down on her as she slouched onto the couch, the DNA report still clutched in her hand. Her fingers tightened around the paper, the revelations swirling in her mind.

Bishop stood beside her, his expression unreadable, waiting for her orders.

"Dig into everything about Lily," Aurora ordered, her voice calm yet laced with steel. "What was she involved in nineteen years ago? And why did she take me in?"

Her grip tightened around the report in her hands.

There was a storm brewing in her eyes, a fire of determination that refused to be extinguished. Whatever secrets Lily was hiding—she would uncover them all.

Then she took out her phone, her fingers moving swiftly as she logged into an encrypted website. The screen flickered to life, displaying a secure chat window. Without hesitation, she typed a message.

"Find out everything about Helen Smith."